The Voodoo That You Do

As well as having this blog as a tool for unleashing my motherly aggressions, I also have my new Paper Voodoo pad. Appropriately labeled, "The Voodoo That You Do". This handy dandy little gem was recently given to me by my fabulous sister-in-law for my very first Mama's Day. Oh if she only knew how truly useful this will be to me.

But with all sinisterisms aside, I had a truly beautiful first Mother's Day. Complete with a BBQ breakfast from the hubby, flowers, and a visit from the rest of the fam. I didn't think it would mean quite as much to me as it did when the day finally came. Just looking at Gavin and knowing that he is the reason I was sitting there that day being celebrated. And truly understanding how much I took my own Mom for granted, now having the chance to live through the joys and heartache of motherhood myself. And that's only the first nine months!

I find myself digging my heals in lately. Wanting time to stand still. My baby is turning into a little boy overnight. I'm afraid when I go to wake him in the morning I'm going to find a teenager sitting in the crib starring back me. Just as I regret taking my Mom for granted I don't want to take my own time as Mom for granted. I just love all the little moments with him. We sat in the cafeteria at IKEA this afternoon and as I fed him he would suck on his peas and spit the skins out at me. This is one of his many new tricks. I try not to laugh because I don't want him to think it's okay to spit his food. But how could I help it?? It's friggin' hilarious! I found myself wishing that moment between me and my son sitting in the IKEA cafeteria would never end. I never thought I'd be saying this but I even enjoy mixing his bottles at night. It's those little things that I know I'll miss when they're gone.

Three more months and I'm back to work. I literally feel like it was just yesterday I was sitting in the hospital holding him in my arms. I don't even want to think about it. I'm having such mixed emotions about the whole thing. Part of me is excited to put my brain back through the paces again. Socialize with the girls. And maybe stock up on some cute little back-to-work numbers for the wardrobe. But then I look at him and those big handsome eyes starring back at me a piece of my heart breaks. All I can think of are all of the "firsts" I'm going to miss. I'm just praying to a higher power that he takes his first steps before August 9th. But then I think of how much fun he'll have with the other kiddos at the home daycare we've enrolled him in. How much joy and independence he will gain. Oh man.

This is a good thing Cheryl. Everything will be okay. Just keep saying the mantra.