Christmas. CHRISTmas. Christmas.
I think about the last 27 times I've gotten to celebrate it. That's a lot to me. Maybe not to someone who's 75 years old...but really. As I think about today, I'm reminded of why this day is so special. It could be the food. It could be the neat gifts. It could be the tradition of Santa Claus and how each morning, as a child, I would haul it to the living room to see what toys were under the tree. It could be the cool air, the music, the smiles on everyone's faces. But it's not. Its the fact that no matter what's going on in your life, you stop and make time for those that you love. Even wal-mart closes. Come on people.
My dad was a jeweler when I was growing up. Christmas time meant he was scarce around our house and we would always wait on Christmas eve (the night that we would celebrate with his side of the family) until my dad would arrive. Sometimes it was 10 pm before he got there. But he always did get there. And he always arrived with something so special. When I was 10 years old, it was $100. Now, $100 to a 10 year old is a lot. I mean, I thought I could buy a house. When I was 17 years old, it was a cell phone, and that took the cake. And now that he's no longer here, I am reminded what this day is all about. Not too long ago I was also reminded. When I was faced with the reality of not having my mom here too. It was like a light switch, but for whatever reason after so much trauma to her heart, God felt like she was still meant to stay here. And I got her back. And I'm reminded again, of what today is about.
My grandma Marcia (my mom's mom) made us all Felt Christmas Stockings to hang during Christmas time. We always had fireworks stuffed in them. And now that we're older, those stockings hang at my moms. My grandma Marcia still makes them, they're great as ever. I thought that this year, I'd make one for BK3, and start the tradition in my home. I ordered his on December 1st. Now, how hard could it be? It's a kit. I'm sure it's got pieces and such, but surely, can't be too hard. I 'm crafty. Well, needless to say the ziploc bag arrived with about 8 pages of colored felt, 6 colors of beads and sequins, and a giant wad of thread. Not to mention the 6 pages of LEGAL size instructions on how to thread a needle, embroider, applique, chord....wait chord?...and make a pom pom. Yeah, this may not be easy. and surely it wasn't. No glue involved. Just hand sewing, every sequin, every bead, every edge to every felt piece (that needed to be cut out, by the way). I got to work and every night once I got home from work, I worked on it. Sometimes until 1 a.m. Tuesday of last week, I came home from the grocery to see that Roxie had found the stocking project and made it her latest chew toy. I was mortified, and it took everything I had not to take her out back and get revenge. I held back tears, beat the dog, and got back to work on piecing it back together. I didn't finish this stocking until 3:00 a.m. Christmas Morning. I was determined to finish it because this is my little Boy. Although he has no clue what this stocking is or means, it's his. I'm mom. And this is our first Christmas together. It's my first chance to be me, his mom, and do everything to make his day special. That stocking was part of it.
While I was working on it some nights, it reminded me of how hard my parents must have worked for me and my brother. We didn't have much to brag about. Roller Skates or a chalk board were my most memorable Santa Gifts. But we still couldn't wait to see what it was each year. And I know my parents cared so much. My dad would walk in just before midnight, on 48 hours of no sleep, with a smile on his face. One year, he walked in dressed as Santa. Really...I complain about a 7 hour teaching day. Here he was, with not much to spend, and not an ounce of rest. But going that extra mile for me and my brother. My mom and dad both did. It makes me want to work my tail off for this li'l pumpkin. To be the best I can be for him. These holidays make it tough without my dad, and without Daddy Brannan's Dad. Because that part I keep being reminded about? It's the family that you cherish and the God that you serve. The songs that you sing together and the stories that you tell when you all are at the dinner table....even though it's the SAME EXACT story you guys told the year before. It's just as funny. And nobody cares. Because the moment you all share is what's most important. The dinner table. On Christmas. Where it's hard not to have a smile. Unless you're remembering someone you miss. And it's impossible not to miss - because again. The part we love so much about this time of year is the memories we make. The love we share. The stockings we hang. The traditions we create and remember for forever. The stories we tell. The family that we'll never forget.
I guess that's the best thing about having an angel to watch over you. My dad will never be late to another Christmas Eve. He's the guest of honor, and always on time. As sad as it could become, he's the center of each story told and I know that's God's way of showing me that he's still here. To remind me to work hard. To never give up. To love my little boy the most in life. To appreciate. And to thank God for every moment I have with His gracious love and the people who make my life complete.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
a weekend away.
I took a job in St Louis doing some choreography for a school out there. I've been doing work for them for a few years, and was looking forward to this trip, since I hadn't gone last year due to the pregnancy. They're great people - always fun to be around. Flew out Friday. Set to return Monday. I was pretty excited. Gave Daddy B my good luck wishes, since he was in charge of li'l B all weekend, and I was off on a plane. And BAM. Not even 2 hours into the flight and I missed my pumpkin. Brannan and I had been away from the li'l man several times these past few months. We even went away to Biloxi 2 months after having him. I've always been fine. I kept thinking....ok, you just don't like flying, so you're getting emotional. Thought it would get better but no. All I wanted was to hold my li'l man. Thankfully, I got several picture texts...but that barely broke the surface of the sad face. Saturday morning comes, Alex and I are eating breakfast at our Hotel and in walks a mom (an Auburn fan, but this is ok), with her husband and 2 kids. Boys. The oldest is 3, the youngest, only about 1 month old. The li'l man starts to whimper and mama pulls him out. My heart sank. You could tell she was exhausted. Still in the 'No sleep' phase and just wanted to eat her hot continental breakfast. I felt my body actually getting up out of my seat to offer to take the kid from her....Get ahold of yourself Carrie...you're a stranger. She will probably grab her food, kids, husband and RUN if you reach for her child. Knowing good and well I didn't care about her chance to eat, but wanted my Pumpkin fix, since I was missing mine so much. Luckily, about that time, Alex finished her breakfast, and we had to go. I know the lady thinks I was a stalker. I stared for at LEAST 10 minutes. My mouth was probably awkwardly hanging open too....
I made it through the next two days, despite one more minor breakdown learning that BK3 had cut a tooth....without me there; I absolutely could not wait to get onto the flights this morning. I got to Deb's right in time for my li'l man to wake up for his lunchtime bottle. It took him just about 5 minutes to realize who I was...I was ok though. I was there. He was too. And that's all I needed. I'll have to say though, what made things so much better was my house. Daddy B, despite being in charge of EVERYTHING this past weekend (I guess you could say we swapped roles), he had the house clean, laundry done, a new piece of furniture in, dishes washed, and Christmas Presents for me, ALL wrapped, stacked up in a straight stack with a piece of paper taped onto them...reading - ALL YOURS with an arrow pointing down the stack. I laughed. Especially since all I asked for this year was clothes, so this oughta be a very fun christmas morning, seeing what he picked out.
I was up at before dawn, exhausted from a super long weekend of work, and home by 12:00. Taught from 3:30 to 9:00 and came home to Pizza and the two men I love. I'm pooped, but the best things in life are with me now. And I'm so thankful God gave me these things. Also....for Daddy B's plea on the phone Saturday night... "Babe....I'm exhausted....I've been non-stop since you left." ;)
I made it through the next two days, despite one more minor breakdown learning that BK3 had cut a tooth....without me there; I absolutely could not wait to get onto the flights this morning. I got to Deb's right in time for my li'l man to wake up for his lunchtime bottle. It took him just about 5 minutes to realize who I was...I was ok though. I was there. He was too. And that's all I needed. I'll have to say though, what made things so much better was my house. Daddy B, despite being in charge of EVERYTHING this past weekend (I guess you could say we swapped roles), he had the house clean, laundry done, a new piece of furniture in, dishes washed, and Christmas Presents for me, ALL wrapped, stacked up in a straight stack with a piece of paper taped onto them...reading - ALL YOURS with an arrow pointing down the stack. I laughed. Especially since all I asked for this year was clothes, so this oughta be a very fun christmas morning, seeing what he picked out.
I was up at before dawn, exhausted from a super long weekend of work, and home by 12:00. Taught from 3:30 to 9:00 and came home to Pizza and the two men I love. I'm pooped, but the best things in life are with me now. And I'm so thankful God gave me these things. Also....for Daddy B's plea on the phone Saturday night... "Babe....I'm exhausted....I've been non-stop since you left." ;)
Thursday, December 1, 2011
The Training Phase...
He's training me...not me training him.
Many of you know about BK3's "bump" on his back. It's a Cavernous Hemangioma. Basically, it looks like a reddish/blue mass of spongy tissue just under his neck, between his two shoulder blades. His pediatrician says it's completely harmless, as long as it's not connected to his spine. It appeared just after 1 month of life. About the size of a penny, and a tiny bit raised. Now, it's the size of a plum, and it protrudes about 3/4 inch from his body. They say it will just grow, and grow, then once it's finished, will begin to slowly shrink until it's not noticeable. I made the mistake of looking online at pictures, and saw them as big as cantaloupes. The one thing I continue to tell myself is at least it's on his back...and not so "in the way". Plus, things could always be worse. His MRI was scheduled for this week to take a look. 1 - to see if it was attached to the spine and 2 - to see if he had anymore in there that we didn't know about. I wasn't worried, until they told me he had to be put to sleep for the procedure. OK...so my baby gets anesthesia. Whoa. Suit up mama, this one's gonna be a toughy. So Wednesday morning was the big day. We arrived at the General at 6:00 a.m. (side note-me and the baby Teen don't wake up til 8 a.m. most days) but it's not like I slept anyways. I was petrified. Punkin was a trouper, he sat in pre-op for 2 hours and watched cartoons, despite being just about starved not having a bottle since the night before. I really thought anesthesia would get things moving sooner, but again - let's not be a pushy mama. They got to the part where they come in, wheel us all to the floor with the MRI imaging, then they look at me and Daddy B and say "OK this is where we take him, and you sit". me: OK Carrie, smile, and walk away. This is the part where things have to take place as they do. Life happens. Don't be one of those basket-case mamas. ..... and boy did it work! I was able to sit, for an hour, and I didn't sweat too badly, or bite my nails. Just prayed. A LOT. BK3 was a champ, he woke up before they got him to recovery, as I heard him screaming while I sat outside the MRI room. He didn't sound happy. The techs were "nice" enough to wheel him out, screaming, say "Hey mom and dad we're through, follow us" then move so fast we couldn't really get to BK3 to comfort him...and THEN dump us in the waiting area while he went to recovery alone. still screaming. Still can't figure that process out. We sat in the waiting for 5 minutes, until they called us to come back to be with him....he was still screaming. Pissed. Hungry. Confused. Poor Punkin. As I got him to gulp down a bottle and calm down with a wubby, I gave in a promised him 3 more christmas presents. I mean, he had earned it right?
He woke up from Anesthesia a little congested, but the nurse told us it was quite normal. He'd lose that throughout the day. Cool. I was ready to go. Not long after, we were discharged, went home and that takes us to part 2 of a 3 part "mommy training" session.
Jump to Boss. Our 92 pound hugely scary, yet capable of no harm what-so-ever Doberman Pincher. A little over 6 months ago, we went through the long discussion of whether or not to get Boss fixed. I recall the week very vividly. I was a VERY pregnant on-the-warpath wife who was nervous about Boss's excited behavior around the newborn. Daddy B was also thinking about it. And there were a few other reasons we thought we may want to have ole' Boss fixed. One was the risk of Cancer in the male parts. Another was the fact that Boss has ONE dominant trait in that sweet body of his: He tends to find the weakest male dog at the dog park...and own him. I'll leave it at that. And no, I don't mean fight him. Brannan told me it was up to me to take Boss to Dr. Welch and have a lengthy discussion with him about Boss's fate. Despite having Boss's surgery scheduled that day, my orders as Boss's "Mom" was to insist on speaking with the Vet before sending Boss to his manhood doom. I did as I was told. And had a lengthy talk with Dr Welch about everything Boss-related. At the end of the convo, I was under the impression that Boss was a sweet dog. His one dominant trait wouldn't be fixed by "Fixing" since it was already in his demeanor. And the cancer risk...well it's so low that putting him under would be another just-as-scary risk. SO....mama decided to let Boss keep his boys. And this very prego lady walked Boss out the office, put him back in my car, which he had already painted the inside with his dog-hair and told him "You're Welcome". Daddy B was relieved and here we are. We notice blood is sprinkling in places near the Dog's room. Can't figure out who's bleeding. Finally, I'm holding the baby and keeping Roxie by my side and tell Brannan to play with Boss....hoping the blood would show up. It did, but we still couldn't figure out where from. Brannan grabbed a paper towel and let's just say we figured it out...it was coming from his man-part. Whoa.
Wednesday afternoon, following BK3's MRI, Brannan took Boss to the vet. OK. Let's just say after $450 and a gazillion amount of tests run, Boss has an enlarged Man-organ and the suggestion from the vet you ask? "If you get him fixed, this problem will go away". Hmm. Gee. Really? Let's add that $180. Merry Christmas Boss. Hope you like GIVING your boys away for the Holiday.
I went to work Wednesday night and came home to a "sore" Boss, still congested BK3 and a Daddy B who was ready to not be Daddy for the night. I rocked my tiny tot to bed and put him down for around 10:00 p.m. I was exhausted, but oh was the fun about to begin. 11:45 p.m. BK3 wakes up with the haunting wheeze that I had heard just a month before. I thought I was dreaming. PLEASE no more hospitals. I tried everything to get him breathing better. Finally called the nurse, who heard him wheezing from the phone. She said to bring him in. Off I go. This time alone - I told BK2 not to come....I was getting this shit done now. So I'm driving 80, praying the whole way. Get BK3 to the General, for the second time that day. Triage nurse sees he's wheezing. And quickly assures me that I'm not crazy. But guess what, by the time the Dr gets into the patient room....BK3 decides, he can breathe now. No more wheezing. YOU'RE KIDDING ME. The nurse vouched for us but the Dr said it could've just been phlegm from anesthesia, and hitting the cold air helped him clear it up. So 2:00 a.m., and we head home. Only for him to start wheezing again....and me to sit up the rest of the entire night and just stare, making sure he's alive ya know? It's at that moment that I go...wow. I didn't dive into this mommy hood. I freaking did a cannonball from the top diving board. I have a 92 pound Dobie bleeding out his pee pee, a 6 month old who likes midnight field trips to the ER, and I'm quickly learning that sleep means absolutely nada. I'm ok though. Again...God doesn't give you anything you cannot handle, or laugh about. I'm still banking on the fact that Boss and BK3 instigated this whole deal together...to see how far they could push me. And I'm sure it won't be the first time. It's only the beginning, so buckle up tighter mama. This toughy ain't nothin'. The fun has only begun!
 |
| BK3 watching Cartoons Pre-Op |
He woke up from Anesthesia a little congested, but the nurse told us it was quite normal. He'd lose that throughout the day. Cool. I was ready to go. Not long after, we were discharged, went home and that takes us to part 2 of a 3 part "mommy training" session.
 |
| Boss & BK3 |
Wednesday afternoon, following BK3's MRI, Brannan took Boss to the vet. OK. Let's just say after $450 and a gazillion amount of tests run, Boss has an enlarged Man-organ and the suggestion from the vet you ask? "If you get him fixed, this problem will go away". Hmm. Gee. Really? Let's add that $180. Merry Christmas Boss. Hope you like GIVING your boys away for the Holiday.
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| I'm tired. He's having fun. |
Sunday, November 27, 2011
A week just being Mom.
About a week since my last post, and boy are things getting exciting.
BK3 had his 6 month pictures, attended his first LSU Basketball game, his first LSU Football game, and enjoyed his first Thanksgiving. I was blessed to have the entire week off, and boy was it great. I never would have thought that being a "house-wife" would be something that I'd like to be...but this week showed how much I'd love to not work, and just be a mom. Did I really just say that? Too bad the bills need to be paid, and it helps that I love my job. A few more years of unruly dance moms, and I just might re-think it though...Above all, I love being a wife and mother. It truly is the best thing in the world.
6 month pics - I was in hopes that BK3 would be trying his best at redemption after the newborn session, which lasted 6 hours filled with non-stop crying, peeing, crapping (all without a diaper on) and pacing (on mama's part). It all started out fine, with a good set of family pics, then we started on BK3 alone. After the 2nd pose, BK3 took a li'l tumble onto the concrete and bumped his head. AND CUT. End of photos for BK3. He was fine, and I was patting myself on the back for not being too worried. I have a boy. I should train myself to know he's going to get hurt. Right? Luckily, Katy is going to come back in a few weeks and get more of BK3, and the family shots came out great! check her out : www.katymarshallphotography.com
1st Basketball game - Tigers played the U of S. Alabama, and even though we're not huge basketball fans, we were excited about it....hello, it's LSU. We're game. BK3 loved it. Stayed awake, alert and happy the entire time. He even got on the "small fry cam". We lost in overtime, but all I could think was "please this can't be an omen for Friday's game against Arkansas, or else we won't bring the kid".
Thanksgiving - I loved waking up on Thanksgiving day and going into B's room to tell him it was his first Thanksgiving. Sure, he had no clue what the hell I was saying. But it was special to me. I scolded myself for not having some sort of cute Thanksgiving pajamas for him. But I quickly got over it. There's always Christmas... We did the normal "Webb-run" on a Holiday and hit up 3 places before 4:00 p.m., 3 dinners and we all felt like weeble wobbles, including BK3. In fact, he wouldn't even sit up and play. The second I'd sit him up, he'd start coughing as if he couldn't breathe, then lay back. So I did what we all do - unbuttoned his top button on his pants, and let him lounge. Cured.
LSU v. Arkansas - Boy was it a day. BK3 was bundled up and ready. And what a day it was. Thanks to Mr. Timmy Fontenot, my son got to get eye to eye with a real life (or dead and cooked) hog stretched across our tailgate table. He grabbed it. Gross, and thankfully I had hand sanitizer waiting...He loved the game. Thankfully #2, we had noise-canceling head phones in li'l tike size. It was LOUD. But BK3 just got to enjoy the view. Geaux Tigers!
The weekend ended with Christmas Decorations and house cleaning. Oh what fun. You'll see a video below, hopefully it's clear. BK2 plays with BK3 while Boss tries to get in on the action. Notice the sound you hear a few seconds in...that's Boss getting body slammed into the wall, so that Daddy can effectively play with BK3. And he just comes back for more...all outta love.
It was an incredible week. It makes me look even more forward to the Christmas break, which I know will be full of many more amazing moments with my hubby and our li'l man. I see how quickly time passes before your eyes, and of course I'd like to put it on pause. But it's life. And life goes; you blink and it's all gone. If it were on pause, there'd be no journey. So I'm excited to buckle up, and see the many amazing things God has in store for us. Have a great week back to work/school/whatever it is that you do!
BK3 had his 6 month pictures, attended his first LSU Basketball game, his first LSU Football game, and enjoyed his first Thanksgiving. I was blessed to have the entire week off, and boy was it great. I never would have thought that being a "house-wife" would be something that I'd like to be...but this week showed how much I'd love to not work, and just be a mom. Did I really just say that? Too bad the bills need to be paid, and it helps that I love my job. A few more years of unruly dance moms, and I just might re-think it though...Above all, I love being a wife and mother. It truly is the best thing in the world.
6 month pics - I was in hopes that BK3 would be trying his best at redemption after the newborn session, which lasted 6 hours filled with non-stop crying, peeing, crapping (all without a diaper on) and pacing (on mama's part). It all started out fine, with a good set of family pics, then we started on BK3 alone. After the 2nd pose, BK3 took a li'l tumble onto the concrete and bumped his head. AND CUT. End of photos for BK3. He was fine, and I was patting myself on the back for not being too worried. I have a boy. I should train myself to know he's going to get hurt. Right? Luckily, Katy is going to come back in a few weeks and get more of BK3, and the family shots came out great! check her out : www.katymarshallphotography.com
1st Basketball game - Tigers played the U of S. Alabama, and even though we're not huge basketball fans, we were excited about it....hello, it's LSU. We're game. BK3 loved it. Stayed awake, alert and happy the entire time. He even got on the "small fry cam". We lost in overtime, but all I could think was "please this can't be an omen for Friday's game against Arkansas, or else we won't bring the kid".Thanksgiving - I loved waking up on Thanksgiving day and going into B's room to tell him it was his first Thanksgiving. Sure, he had no clue what the hell I was saying. But it was special to me. I scolded myself for not having some sort of cute Thanksgiving pajamas for him. But I quickly got over it. There's always Christmas... We did the normal "Webb-run" on a Holiday and hit up 3 places before 4:00 p.m., 3 dinners and we all felt like weeble wobbles, including BK3. In fact, he wouldn't even sit up and play. The second I'd sit him up, he'd start coughing as if he couldn't breathe, then lay back. So I did what we all do - unbuttoned his top button on his pants, and let him lounge. Cured.
LSU v. Arkansas - Boy was it a day. BK3 was bundled up and ready. And what a day it was. Thanks to Mr. Timmy Fontenot, my son got to get eye to eye with a real life (or dead and cooked) hog stretched across our tailgate table. He grabbed it. Gross, and thankfully I had hand sanitizer waiting...He loved the game. Thankfully #2, we had noise-canceling head phones in li'l tike size. It was LOUD. But BK3 just got to enjoy the view. Geaux Tigers!The weekend ended with Christmas Decorations and house cleaning. Oh what fun. You'll see a video below, hopefully it's clear. BK2 plays with BK3 while Boss tries to get in on the action. Notice the sound you hear a few seconds in...that's Boss getting body slammed into the wall, so that Daddy can effectively play with BK3. And he just comes back for more...all outta love.
It was an incredible week. It makes me look even more forward to the Christmas break, which I know will be full of many more amazing moments with my hubby and our li'l man. I see how quickly time passes before your eyes, and of course I'd like to put it on pause. But it's life. And life goes; you blink and it's all gone. If it were on pause, there'd be no journey. So I'm excited to buckle up, and see the many amazing things God has in store for us. Have a great week back to work/school/whatever it is that you do!
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Hot Bubble Baths cure the world's problems.
Ever since I can remember, I've always been a fan of hot bubble baths...now more than ever. It can be 97 degrees outside in the humid Louisiana August, and I'll still crave the hot bubble bath at the end of the day to just RELAX. Can I get a HELL YEA? Today, it was needed. Let's see. BK3 turned 6 months old on Thursday. It's already been 6 months....just seems like yesterday I was balancing smoothie cups on my belly in between dance classes... Each day that goes by proves to me that women are unbelievable creatures - moms especially. I saw a handkerchief in the DS Antique Village today that said this "Three Wise Women", The 3 wise women would have...asked for directions, arrived on time, helped deliver the baby, cleaned the stable, made a casserole, brought practical gifts, and there would be peace on Earth.
How fitting? Saturday morning, this idea was proven completely true. I had to work 1 hour on Saturday morning. I woke up early, fed the baby his bottle, made sure Daddy was up, then kissed them both and headed out. "I'll only be gone an hour and a half!". That was at 9:10 a.m., and as I was driving back around 10:45 a.m., I called Daddy B and asked him what was up. He had just laid the baby down to nap. All within 3 seconds, I made a realization. Carrie - you didn't leave Daddy B with instructions....Here is our dialog-
Me: Babe, did Brannan eat breakfast? (He's eating 3 solid meals a day now, like humans do)
BK2: Um....wasn't that his bottle that you gave him?
Me: No...babe, he has to EAT.
BK2: Well, I didn't know he was hungry. And you didn't leave me a schedule.
Me: Ok. -____-
I'm sure whatever Mamas that are reading this are saying "Been there, done that, and it doesn't get any better!" lol. But it proves the handkerchief truth.
This weekend was busy. Full of exciting "non-work" related events, which is awesome. I didn't get any extra sleep, which is not awesome, but it leads me to my awesome hot bubble bath. I've been looking forward to it all day. Just a chance to relax and not have to think about anyone's schedule, who needs to eat, burp, nap, poop (has he pooped yet today?), teethe, take the garbage out (cause it runs tomorrow), clean out the pantry, clean the bottles, sweep up the dog hair....ok I'm getting carried away. But you get the picture? It's beautiful how just a chance to "not think" can put you in a better mood...not to mention the bubbles, and super hot water. NICE.
And to finish off the awesome experience, I exit the bathroom to hear Daddy B saying "Good Catch DUDE!" to BK3. I'm wondering...what the hell? The kid can barely grab a toy, much less catch something....Peek around the corner to see BK3 perched in Daddy's recliner. Daddy B standing 6 feet away with BK3's plush football, tossing it to him. I would've let them enjoy their Father - Son time, except Boss kept trying to ruin it by grabbing the football before BK3 could figure out to grab it. I mean, I also didn't want Boss's saliva all over it too, but oh well. So I say "Hey Hey, Boss...no" when I immediately get cut off by Daddy B, who pleas "BABE!, Let him play....Boss is the defense..."
Good Night!
How fitting? Saturday morning, this idea was proven completely true. I had to work 1 hour on Saturday morning. I woke up early, fed the baby his bottle, made sure Daddy was up, then kissed them both and headed out. "I'll only be gone an hour and a half!". That was at 9:10 a.m., and as I was driving back around 10:45 a.m., I called Daddy B and asked him what was up. He had just laid the baby down to nap. All within 3 seconds, I made a realization. Carrie - you didn't leave Daddy B with instructions....Here is our dialog-
Me: Babe, did Brannan eat breakfast? (He's eating 3 solid meals a day now, like humans do)
BK2: Um....wasn't that his bottle that you gave him?
Me: No...babe, he has to EAT.
BK2: Well, I didn't know he was hungry. And you didn't leave me a schedule.
Me: Ok. -____-
I'm sure whatever Mamas that are reading this are saying "Been there, done that, and it doesn't get any better!" lol. But it proves the handkerchief truth.
This weekend was busy. Full of exciting "non-work" related events, which is awesome. I didn't get any extra sleep, which is not awesome, but it leads me to my awesome hot bubble bath. I've been looking forward to it all day. Just a chance to relax and not have to think about anyone's schedule, who needs to eat, burp, nap, poop (has he pooped yet today?), teethe, take the garbage out (cause it runs tomorrow), clean out the pantry, clean the bottles, sweep up the dog hair....ok I'm getting carried away. But you get the picture? It's beautiful how just a chance to "not think" can put you in a better mood...not to mention the bubbles, and super hot water. NICE.
And to finish off the awesome experience, I exit the bathroom to hear Daddy B saying "Good Catch DUDE!" to BK3. I'm wondering...what the hell? The kid can barely grab a toy, much less catch something....Peek around the corner to see BK3 perched in Daddy's recliner. Daddy B standing 6 feet away with BK3's plush football, tossing it to him. I would've let them enjoy their Father - Son time, except Boss kept trying to ruin it by grabbing the football before BK3 could figure out to grab it. I mean, I also didn't want Boss's saliva all over it too, but oh well. So I say "Hey Hey, Boss...no" when I immediately get cut off by Daddy B, who pleas "BABE!, Let him play....Boss is the defense..."
Good Night!
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Word to the wise.
I was driving home from Revolution tonight and I was meditating on a few things that had crossed my mind. All of the situations gave me negative feelings, but I kept on thinking about them. Until I saw a giant flash of lightening that covered the sky for a split second. "Knock knock Carrie...God here. Stop allowing the negative in. Focus your thoughts in the right place, and things will change..." That lightening was beautiful. Scary, but beautiful. And it's amazing how God's creation slapped me in the face like that.
So it reminds me. I am a dance teacher. I own a dance company. The show "Dance Moms" makes me cringe for several reasons:
1. It portrays the dance community in a way that isn't very likable to parents who may want to think about dance for their young children. Soccer is looking better and better...
2. It shows other parents of dancers that people actually act this way. You'd think it would turn them off right away because the behavior is just down right ridiculous...but no....it gets people thinking.
...thanks Abby Lee.
I deal every day with the joys and the craziness. Like everyone, there are things that I LOVE about my job, and things that I hate. Mostly...the things that I hate all have to deal with the first paragraph of this blog: the negativity that people cannot get away from; the same negativity that will change an attitude, bring out the worst in someone, and ultimately ruin the opportunities for your child - all because people just love some good gossip, or a little sweet revenge.
And really - is that what we're in the business for? Cause I sure am not. My job is to teach a kid to dance. Because I love it. And can't live without it. And I love that it's my job. I don't sit at a desk. I get to move, stay fit, listen to music, and create. Be an artist...and teach others how to. Too bad the amazing part of the job also has to come with the crap. And honestly, there is no crap specifically right now (because I'm sure anyone reading this will be like "WHOA WHATS GOING ON" and then no telling what will spread like wild-fire, again refer to first paragraph).
I love that so many people want to spread the good news of dance. All dance teachers are unique in their own way. The one thing we all share is that we love this art so much, that we're willing to devote our lives to it. And boy does so much come with that. Coffee talk with dance teachers is like a freaking soap opera / jerry springer / monday night pokeno . The most amazing, shocking, and crazy stories you'll ever hear. Down-right entertaining. So I guess I speak for all dance teachers when I say this....
We're like Santa Claus. We hear everything. We see everything. We know when you lie to get your way...and we can smell a "dance mom" coming from a mile away. That rhymed. And truly, if you're good, we give you great things. If you're nice too...it's even better. Kids love dance, and our dancers love this world of competition, conventions and solos (can't forget solos). So, really. Be nice to everyone. Don't hold grudges. Be positive. And don't worry. When negativity gets in the way, remember that it promotes nothing but negative. Negative sucks....and so does a sickled foot.
...refer to first paragraph.
So it reminds me. I am a dance teacher. I own a dance company. The show "Dance Moms" makes me cringe for several reasons:
1. It portrays the dance community in a way that isn't very likable to parents who may want to think about dance for their young children. Soccer is looking better and better...
2. It shows other parents of dancers that people actually act this way. You'd think it would turn them off right away because the behavior is just down right ridiculous...but no....it gets people thinking.
...thanks Abby Lee.
I deal every day with the joys and the craziness. Like everyone, there are things that I LOVE about my job, and things that I hate. Mostly...the things that I hate all have to deal with the first paragraph of this blog: the negativity that people cannot get away from; the same negativity that will change an attitude, bring out the worst in someone, and ultimately ruin the opportunities for your child - all because people just love some good gossip, or a little sweet revenge.
And really - is that what we're in the business for? Cause I sure am not. My job is to teach a kid to dance. Because I love it. And can't live without it. And I love that it's my job. I don't sit at a desk. I get to move, stay fit, listen to music, and create. Be an artist...and teach others how to. Too bad the amazing part of the job also has to come with the crap. And honestly, there is no crap specifically right now (because I'm sure anyone reading this will be like "WHOA WHATS GOING ON" and then no telling what will spread like wild-fire, again refer to first paragraph).
I love that so many people want to spread the good news of dance. All dance teachers are unique in their own way. The one thing we all share is that we love this art so much, that we're willing to devote our lives to it. And boy does so much come with that. Coffee talk with dance teachers is like a freaking soap opera / jerry springer / monday night pokeno . The most amazing, shocking, and crazy stories you'll ever hear. Down-right entertaining. So I guess I speak for all dance teachers when I say this....
We're like Santa Claus. We hear everything. We see everything. We know when you lie to get your way...and we can smell a "dance mom" coming from a mile away. That rhymed. And truly, if you're good, we give you great things. If you're nice too...it's even better. Kids love dance, and our dancers love this world of competition, conventions and solos (can't forget solos). So, really. Be nice to everyone. Don't hold grudges. Be positive. And don't worry. When negativity gets in the way, remember that it promotes nothing but negative. Negative sucks....and so does a sickled foot.
...refer to first paragraph.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Toting the Tot....
The past two weekends have been super busy for us - last weekend was the first solo & duet/trio competition for my dancers. It was held in Lafayette. This weekend was our first group competition, held in Biloxi. Since August, we've been choreographing and rehearsing these pieces. Needless to say the two weekends were two much anticipated events, preceded by endless hours of rehearsal, and lots lots lots and lots of stress. BUT they came, and are done. I'm a happy dance teacher, they're accomplished dancers, and the first two competitions are out of the way for the new season. Onto January!
Baby Brannan came with me last weekend, as Daddy Brannan was cheering on the Tigers at the University of Alabama. I didn't even for once stop to think if I would be capable of bringing BK3 by myself to a dance convention / competition. I just did it. Yep, I'm a mom. It's that mentality of "I'll make it happen" that kicks into gear when faced with a challenge. Needless to say, packing with a 6 month old takes a bit longer than ever before (minus the tot). Once I got to Lafayette, things were 90 to nothing, but I had amazing help (Thanks Dance Moms). I love that BK3 cures their "Baby Fix" and allows me some time to take a deep breath. Saturday, the game of the century: LSU played Alabama and I wasn't missing this for the world. We had all talked about checking out a local family sports bar/restaurant down the road from the hotel. I was ready. We were ready. Until BK3 decided he'd rather an evening of constipation and "I don't want to eat my veggies yet I'm still going to scream because I'm hungry" attitude. It was 6:30 p.m. (the game was starting in 30 minutes) and I had a choice to make. No sports bar for us. Burgers and a cocktail turned into Prune Juice and Papa Johns for me and the munchkin. Oh well...at least he finally pooped (yay for that!) and I was able to relax...do we see a theme here?
This weekend, we were fortunate enough to leave BK3 behind. Brannan and myself, off to Biloxi for an entire weekend. HALLELUJAH. Thought I'd feel bad leaving him behind...but nope. This was needed. Although it was a weekend of no sleep (but not because of a baby), work, and dancing, I was ready and excited for it. A nice dinner at the Beau Rivage and a few hours in the casino was our Friday night. Saturday and today filled with Dancing and GOOD dancing might I add. My dancers received top honors at a competition filled with incredible talent, and I left a happy teacher. Side Note: a SORE and IN PAIN teacher I was...due to my quest to take classes for the first time in a year, and since having a child. WOW that reality check was a quick one...Of course I missed my cutie-pie and was so excited to see him by 6:30 p.m. His li'l face lit up when he saw us....made my heart melt. Yep....life has changed.
Hope everyone has a great week :)
Baby Brannan came with me last weekend, as Daddy Brannan was cheering on the Tigers at the University of Alabama. I didn't even for once stop to think if I would be capable of bringing BK3 by myself to a dance convention / competition. I just did it. Yep, I'm a mom. It's that mentality of "I'll make it happen" that kicks into gear when faced with a challenge. Needless to say, packing with a 6 month old takes a bit longer than ever before (minus the tot). Once I got to Lafayette, things were 90 to nothing, but I had amazing help (Thanks Dance Moms). I love that BK3 cures their "Baby Fix" and allows me some time to take a deep breath. Saturday, the game of the century: LSU played Alabama and I wasn't missing this for the world. We had all talked about checking out a local family sports bar/restaurant down the road from the hotel. I was ready. We were ready. Until BK3 decided he'd rather an evening of constipation and "I don't want to eat my veggies yet I'm still going to scream because I'm hungry" attitude. It was 6:30 p.m. (the game was starting in 30 minutes) and I had a choice to make. No sports bar for us. Burgers and a cocktail turned into Prune Juice and Papa Johns for me and the munchkin. Oh well...at least he finally pooped (yay for that!) and I was able to relax...do we see a theme here?
This weekend, we were fortunate enough to leave BK3 behind. Brannan and myself, off to Biloxi for an entire weekend. HALLELUJAH. Thought I'd feel bad leaving him behind...but nope. This was needed. Although it was a weekend of no sleep (but not because of a baby), work, and dancing, I was ready and excited for it. A nice dinner at the Beau Rivage and a few hours in the casino was our Friday night. Saturday and today filled with Dancing and GOOD dancing might I add. My dancers received top honors at a competition filled with incredible talent, and I left a happy teacher. Side Note: a SORE and IN PAIN teacher I was...due to my quest to take classes for the first time in a year, and since having a child. WOW that reality check was a quick one...Of course I missed my cutie-pie and was so excited to see him by 6:30 p.m. His li'l face lit up when he saw us....made my heart melt. Yep....life has changed.
Hope everyone has a great week :)
Thursday, November 3, 2011
GEAUX to sleep..
It's November 3rd. In 2 days, LSU will travel to Tuscaloosa to face the Crimson Tide in what seems to be the game of the century. I've been nervous all week. My knees get weak at the thought of LSU possibly going in there and messin' up, giving Nick Saban the chance to capitalize on our mishaps. My boy has sported purple and gold all week - even down to the wubby of choice, being his Mike the Tiger wubby (we have 2), and only when they were getting washed did he settle for something else. Is it a coincidence that the Elephant immediately succumbed to a giant glob of spit up? I don't think so. It's meant to be. We will win on Saturday. And if we don't, well, I'll blog about it that day.
Meanwhile, we have our first competition of the season this weekend. I leave tomorrow morning for Lafayette, with Baby B in tow, since Daddy is going to the GAME. Just me and pumpkin. I come home late from dance to a house that needs quite a bit of attention, a baby who just finished eating his nightly bottle (arms stretched out saying TAKE ME MAMA) and a husband who was saying TAKE HIM MAMA. I did. Like I always do, but have a ton of things. So after Brannan says "babe, I'm starving. I need to eat something. " and poof is gone with the snap of the fingers, I look over to my bundle of joy who's been wedged between the Boppy and propped on top of 5 plush toys to keep him from falling from the newly not yet mastered Sittin Up position. He tries his damn-est to grab everything he possibly can, at the same time, and shove it in his mouth. You'll see the photo below. My judges goody baskets could wait. The laundry could wait and so could the house work, bottle cleaning, packing, and cd-finishing. It's 10:00 p.m. and my son isn't asleep. Brannan says "Babe, just put him in his Jump er roo. Then you can get your work done" Don't those husbands' know best? MmHmm. Brannan III jumped to his heart's content, despite being a loaded gun (on both ends). Brannan was able to eat, and I was able to finish #1 on the list of 243 to do. I was in BK3's room beginning to pack when I hear Daddy B bringing BK3 down the hall. In my mind "Why has he picked him up out of his happy place? That's weird". Brannan says "Babe, does he have a dirty diaper?" as he's shoving his rear end into my face. At this point, pause. I should've known better. CARRIE DO NOT SMELL HIS BUTT. But no. I'm stupid now. My baby ate my brain. What did I do? Shoved my nose right into it. BAM. The traumatizing smell of Formula + Squash, digested. And Daddy definitely did that on purpose. After a few minutes of trying to convince Brannan that it was his turn....truly, it will ALWAYS be his turn in my book....I laid him down on the changing pad to realize that the shit didn't stay in his diaper where it belonged. OH NO. It was down his entire left leg. Covered his foot. In between his toes. Seeped into his onesie. And so damn close to his fingers it was scary. Let's just say Daddy HIGH TAILED it as soon as I screamed. Men have a funny sense of knowing when to run. Brannan's excuse? "Babe, you've already smelled it. It's go time for you". We won't go into the top o' the line Gas Mask that sits in the right drawer below the changing station. It's there for a reason. Don't believe me come check. Hmm. OK. So it's 10:30, and now we need to take a bath. All the while, BK3 thinks this is absolutely hilarious. I couldn't be mad. It was funny.
We bathed. Daddy's job was to spray off the onesie. Miniscule compared to the task I was undertaking...but he still suffered, so it was ok. Fast forward to the next hour that Brannan tried getting Baby B to sleep. Nah, didn't feel like sleeping. So we put him in his bed to talk with the Li'l Einstein light up sea thingy. 1/2 an hour goes by. Still awake. Another 1/2 an hour. Still laughing mysteriously as if we were the dumbest parents on the planet and he was getting a kick out of keeping us awake. I didn't mind. I still had 123 things left to do. I'm onto Laundry. Putting it all away, at midnight and I notice NO SOUNDS. Looked at the monitor. The joker is asleep. Couldn't last could ya li'l man!
So I figured I'd blog about my very interesting evening coming home to my two boys. Still have a slew of things to accomplish before 8:30 a.m. tomorrow morning, but I guess I'll hit the hay. It'll motivate me to actually get up early. Brannan gets to go cheer on the Tigers, and me and BK3 get to have a mommy / son weekend in Lafayette. Praying for a few things: Tigers Win, Mommy doesn't get kicked out of the hotel Saturday night yelling at the TV, and Daddy learns to take the reigns on poopy diapers, oh and Tigers Win.
Meanwhile, we have our first competition of the season this weekend. I leave tomorrow morning for Lafayette, with Baby B in tow, since Daddy is going to the GAME. Just me and pumpkin. I come home late from dance to a house that needs quite a bit of attention, a baby who just finished eating his nightly bottle (arms stretched out saying TAKE ME MAMA) and a husband who was saying TAKE HIM MAMA. I did. Like I always do, but have a ton of things. So after Brannan says "babe, I'm starving. I need to eat something. " and poof is gone with the snap of the fingers, I look over to my bundle of joy who's been wedged between the Boppy and propped on top of 5 plush toys to keep him from falling from the newly not yet mastered Sittin Up position. He tries his damn-est to grab everything he possibly can, at the same time, and shove it in his mouth. You'll see the photo below. My judges goody baskets could wait. The laundry could wait and so could the house work, bottle cleaning, packing, and cd-finishing. It's 10:00 p.m. and my son isn't asleep. Brannan says "Babe, just put him in his Jump er roo. Then you can get your work done" Don't those husbands' know best? MmHmm. Brannan III jumped to his heart's content, despite being a loaded gun (on both ends). Brannan was able to eat, and I was able to finish #1 on the list of 243 to do. I was in BK3's room beginning to pack when I hear Daddy B bringing BK3 down the hall. In my mind "Why has he picked him up out of his happy place? That's weird". Brannan says "Babe, does he have a dirty diaper?" as he's shoving his rear end into my face. At this point, pause. I should've known better. CARRIE DO NOT SMELL HIS BUTT. But no. I'm stupid now. My baby ate my brain. What did I do? Shoved my nose right into it. BAM. The traumatizing smell of Formula + Squash, digested. And Daddy definitely did that on purpose. After a few minutes of trying to convince Brannan that it was his turn....truly, it will ALWAYS be his turn in my book....I laid him down on the changing pad to realize that the shit didn't stay in his diaper where it belonged. OH NO. It was down his entire left leg. Covered his foot. In between his toes. Seeped into his onesie. And so damn close to his fingers it was scary. Let's just say Daddy HIGH TAILED it as soon as I screamed. Men have a funny sense of knowing when to run. Brannan's excuse? "Babe, you've already smelled it. It's go time for you". We won't go into the top o' the line Gas Mask that sits in the right drawer below the changing station. It's there for a reason. Don't believe me come check. Hmm. OK. So it's 10:30, and now we need to take a bath. All the while, BK3 thinks this is absolutely hilarious. I couldn't be mad. It was funny.
We bathed. Daddy's job was to spray off the onesie. Miniscule compared to the task I was undertaking...but he still suffered, so it was ok. Fast forward to the next hour that Brannan tried getting Baby B to sleep. Nah, didn't feel like sleeping. So we put him in his bed to talk with the Li'l Einstein light up sea thingy. 1/2 an hour goes by. Still awake. Another 1/2 an hour. Still laughing mysteriously as if we were the dumbest parents on the planet and he was getting a kick out of keeping us awake. I didn't mind. I still had 123 things left to do. I'm onto Laundry. Putting it all away, at midnight and I notice NO SOUNDS. Looked at the monitor. The joker is asleep. Couldn't last could ya li'l man!
 |
| Daddy's attempt at propping him up.... |
Sunday, October 30, 2011
More errrr. ER
It's been a week. Let's see.
Sunday night 10/23, we were all good. I had put B down for a little nap before his last bottle of the day. Brannan and I were watching a movie. The monitor all of a sudden erupted with the most horrific sound ever from B's room. I ran, scooped him up, and started compressions on his back. He had the Croup. It didn't take a few attempts at breathing for me to figure that out. I freaked. So back to the ER we went, but this time to the General on Bluebonnet. Indeed it was the croup. 1 hour passed, including a breathing treatment, a few new friends in the ER, and a 3-day Steroid for li'l man. We were out in no time. Nice job General. We picked you on a good night. He got a little better after the Steroid Rx, and we went to see Dr. Farrell on Thursday; only to find out that he no longer had the Croup. It had turned into something else, more like Bronchitis. :( Womp Womp Wommpp. Now the breathing machine sits in my living room. We get to use it every day. B was pretty much quarantined this weekend and we have to go back to Farrell in the morning. Hoping Halloween isn't ruined for him! Meanwhile, I haven't kicked this crap either. I was sick long before B, and went through an entire set of antibiotics, a cough syrup, a steroid pack and a nose spray. I woke up this morning with a sore throat....it's going on week 3 here. Not ok. I guess I need sleep? Or vitamins more like it...I know, bad Mom. I'll go take 'em right now. Happy Halloween everyone!
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| BK3 in the ER @ the General |
Saturday, October 22, 2011
BK3 Geauxs Tailgatin'
There are 2 things one can expect about little boys and the South:
1. How to get dirty, and stay dirty.
2. First words often result in Geaux Tigers, of some sort.
Today, BK3 got to experience a day on LSU's campus for tailgating at the LSU vs Auburn game. Not sure who had more fun...BK3 or Daddy.
Knowing that this would be a momentous occasion, I planned ahead - or as ahead as I thought I could - for LSU attire that would make it a great first tailgate for baby B. I searched and searched, finally finding the obnoxious striped purple / gold over alls for the munchkin. Ordered. RUSH ordered that was. They'd arrive Thursday, Oct 20th. So I emailed Daddy Brannan and told him about my cool "find" which he loved. Fastforward to Friday afternoon. I got home late from teaching dance, and Brannan's holding a pinkish mail slip...the kind you get at your door when you've missed your package delivery. He asks me if I've received anything (2 packages to be specific). I said "NO". Of course, I hadn't been home but 15 minutes all day. No packages here. I grabbed the slip and saw that the packages would be able for pick up Saturday morning at the Woodlawn Post Office. It opened at 9:00 a.m. I saw the look of desperation on Brannan's face and I dared to ask "What did you buy?". His face said it all. He bought a pair of over alls for himself. To match the Baby. Of course. What Daddy wouldn't? "I guess that means we'll be at the post office for when it opens in the morning...", he says. "Absolutely babe", I say, knowing how much he must want to wear these over-alls, if he's willing to wait until after 9:00 a.m. to head to LSU's campus for a 2:30 game. Against Auburn.
We did just as expected. Woke at 7:00 a.m., fed the baby, packed the bag for the day, got dressed, and drove into the parking lot of the post office just in time for it to open. Grabbed the package and headed out to campus. This was going to be a great day. You can betcha Brannan changed into his obnoxious pair between 2 car doors in the parking lot of Kirby Smith...a true fan. We pulled out the jeep stroller, got the baby inside, and started strolling. I offered to push, but Daddy insisted. "I look weird in this outfit, don't I" he says over and over. To which I finally said, "Babe, you don't look funny in the outfit. You look funny in the outfit, pushing a stroller." Not to mention he kept taking it "off road". Because that's what the jeep stroller is meant for. Needless to say, he did NOT look funny. He looked awesome. He was a dad who was proud of his matching outfit with his son. Like I said, It was going to be a good day.
Baby Brannan loved the experience. So much that he skipped his morning nap. Geaux Tigers! 2 Auburn fans stopped and asked my 2 boys for a picture even. At one point, I looked around and couldn't find neither of the two. Come to find out, Daddy B had taken Baby B for a stroll. I was sure that there would be a photo op going on somewhere...why didn't I jump in on that! I'm not sure how many beers got offered to BK3...Of course everyone knows whiskey helps the teething...not beer.
We (BK3 and myself) didn't go into the game...being that our tickets were seats on the first row of LSU fans directly behind the Auburn fans section...I figured it would be best to let Daddy Brannan bring a friend and watch this one from home. The last 3 times Brannan and I sat there usually ended up with me in tears and an almost hungover Brannan risking getting thrown out of the game. Actually, the last time we sat there was 2 years ago, LSU vs. Auburn, and a very "happy" Brannan was going back and forth with the Auburn couple in front of us. Auburn woman (about college age) held a signature pom pom that repeatedly and coincidentally kept smashing Brannan's face....After she and Brannan had words, Brannan thought it'd be smart to tell the Auburn boyfriend to "Keep his B**** on a leash"...yeah that didn't go over too well. Especially since the ENTIRE LSU section behind us was egging B on...So I'm in tears, and finally after it all settles, the girl turns to me and says "I'm really sorry....I'm never like this at football games but I figured I had to here! Someone even told me I had an STD!" Classy LSU. Very Classy. LOL So needless to say, when we get the offer of those tickets, I gladly choose to let Brannan enjoy them with a friend. We'll survive better that way.
Daddy B had a lot of fun. I did too. And I'm sure Baby B will be able to see the pics when he's a little older. Mostly, I learned today that there are some things that little boys will always cherish: days like this with their Daddy's. Where they get to be JUST like their Daddy. I know today, Baby Brannan had the biggest smile on his face all day long. He knew how cool this day was :)
1. How to get dirty, and stay dirty.
2. First words often result in Geaux Tigers, of some sort.
Today, BK3 got to experience a day on LSU's campus for tailgating at the LSU vs Auburn game. Not sure who had more fun...BK3 or Daddy.
Knowing that this would be a momentous occasion, I planned ahead - or as ahead as I thought I could - for LSU attire that would make it a great first tailgate for baby B. I searched and searched, finally finding the obnoxious striped purple / gold over alls for the munchkin. Ordered. RUSH ordered that was. They'd arrive Thursday, Oct 20th. So I emailed Daddy Brannan and told him about my cool "find" which he loved. Fastforward to Friday afternoon. I got home late from teaching dance, and Brannan's holding a pinkish mail slip...the kind you get at your door when you've missed your package delivery. He asks me if I've received anything (2 packages to be specific). I said "NO". Of course, I hadn't been home but 15 minutes all day. No packages here. I grabbed the slip and saw that the packages would be able for pick up Saturday morning at the Woodlawn Post Office. It opened at 9:00 a.m. I saw the look of desperation on Brannan's face and I dared to ask "What did you buy?". His face said it all. He bought a pair of over alls for himself. To match the Baby. Of course. What Daddy wouldn't? "I guess that means we'll be at the post office for when it opens in the morning...", he says. "Absolutely babe", I say, knowing how much he must want to wear these over-alls, if he's willing to wait until after 9:00 a.m. to head to LSU's campus for a 2:30 game. Against Auburn.
We did just as expected. Woke at 7:00 a.m., fed the baby, packed the bag for the day, got dressed, and drove into the parking lot of the post office just in time for it to open. Grabbed the package and headed out to campus. This was going to be a great day. You can betcha Brannan changed into his obnoxious pair between 2 car doors in the parking lot of Kirby Smith...a true fan. We pulled out the jeep stroller, got the baby inside, and started strolling. I offered to push, but Daddy insisted. "I look weird in this outfit, don't I" he says over and over. To which I finally said, "Babe, you don't look funny in the outfit. You look funny in the outfit, pushing a stroller." Not to mention he kept taking it "off road". Because that's what the jeep stroller is meant for. Needless to say, he did NOT look funny. He looked awesome. He was a dad who was proud of his matching outfit with his son. Like I said, It was going to be a good day.
Baby Brannan loved the experience. So much that he skipped his morning nap. Geaux Tigers! 2 Auburn fans stopped and asked my 2 boys for a picture even. At one point, I looked around and couldn't find neither of the two. Come to find out, Daddy B had taken Baby B for a stroll. I was sure that there would be a photo op going on somewhere...why didn't I jump in on that! I'm not sure how many beers got offered to BK3...Of course everyone knows whiskey helps the teething...not beer.
We (BK3 and myself) didn't go into the game...being that our tickets were seats on the first row of LSU fans directly behind the Auburn fans section...I figured it would be best to let Daddy Brannan bring a friend and watch this one from home. The last 3 times Brannan and I sat there usually ended up with me in tears and an almost hungover Brannan risking getting thrown out of the game. Actually, the last time we sat there was 2 years ago, LSU vs. Auburn, and a very "happy" Brannan was going back and forth with the Auburn couple in front of us. Auburn woman (about college age) held a signature pom pom that repeatedly and coincidentally kept smashing Brannan's face....After she and Brannan had words, Brannan thought it'd be smart to tell the Auburn boyfriend to "Keep his B**** on a leash"...yeah that didn't go over too well. Especially since the ENTIRE LSU section behind us was egging B on...So I'm in tears, and finally after it all settles, the girl turns to me and says "I'm really sorry....I'm never like this at football games but I figured I had to here! Someone even told me I had an STD!" Classy LSU. Very Classy. LOL So needless to say, when we get the offer of those tickets, I gladly choose to let Brannan enjoy them with a friend. We'll survive better that way.
Daddy B had a lot of fun. I did too. And I'm sure Baby B will be able to see the pics when he's a little older. Mostly, I learned today that there are some things that little boys will always cherish: days like this with their Daddy's. Where they get to be JUST like their Daddy. I know today, Baby Brannan had the biggest smile on his face all day long. He knew how cool this day was :)
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| "Off roading" |
 |
| My handsome BK3 |
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| The best moment of the day |
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
a Webb-venture in the E.R.
It's been a hectic few days at the Webb's. My Bronchitis/Sinus Infection decided it needed to stick around for a good 10 days...I'm just now getting to feel back to normal. On Friday, BK3 started to act a little fussy throughout the day - red flag #1 that told me he may be coming down with something. He stayed at my mom's Friday night, while Brannan and I had MiMi's wake and funeral to attend, and BK3 didn't do so well that night. For the first time in 2 months, he didn't sleep through the night GASP! And it was at my moms....lol. He was coming down with a cold. Poor Punkin.
Saturday, we celebrated MiMi's life with family and friends. It was a good day. We got BK3 back mid-afternoon, and sadly, it was downhill from there. Saturday night, li'l man ran 102 fever, up to 103 through midnight, and needless to say, Mama and Baby didn't sleep a lick. He was congested. I was a nervous wreck. I quickly got a flashback of his first few days at home after delivery. I'm lucky I didn't have an anxiety attack. LOL. All day Sunday, same news. I thought the Tylenol would help, but li'l man was more and more stopped up and feverish. Miserable. For all parties involved. When I got home from work, I noticed he was having trouble. He was panting, retracting a little and still had the fever. The triage nurse on call told us we might want to take him into the ER. What? Hold up. ER? My li'l dude didn't need to go to the ER. This was crazy. But when his condition didn't improve, we decided it was time to take him in. I was exhausted from 2 nights of no sleep; Worried so much that I couldn't keep anything inside me (and no I wasn't vomiting); And now we were packing up for the ER....on a Sunday night. DING DING Let the fun begin. We didn't even make it into the car outside, without some bum on the street asking for a cigarette....seriously I thought I was in a dream. Baby Brannan not breathing well, loading up for the ER and then about to get jumped. LOVELY.
I sat in the back seat of Brannan's car and tried to keep BK3 calm, but that didn't work. I was a nervous wreck myself. I quickly understood why mom's worry so much about their kids. I hated my li'l dude being sick. And I was sick for him...literally. Needless to say the OLOL ER was a circus. I'm surprised we didn't take a number. Between the numerous "sick" kids running around playing with the toys (isn't it their bedtime?), loud Disney channel blaring on the one TV (hello, there's a football game on people; it's Sunday night) and my baby crying...I didn't know who was going to lose it first...me? maybe. Thankfully mom insisted on coming. So there we were, Brannan (trying not to touch anything), Me (trying not to mess myself), Baby B (miserable), and Mom (seasoned ER attendee)....I looked like a teen mom. Every time I held BK3, he'd cry...so mom took him most of the time. We got him triag-ed so they say....and the nurse said she couldn't hear anything in his chest....oh well. We waited to see the dr. Hour after hour after hour. We saw some mighty exciting things.
Prospect #1: A 3 year old little girl who looked like she had blood drawn from 4 different places. Running playfully. Loud. Slapping her older sister. The usual.
Propect #2: Another 2 or 3 yr old little girl. Looked pretty sick. Following prospect 1, who clearly they didn't know one another. Hello mom, this is the ER...I don't think I'd let my toddler follow another obviously sick child around.
Prospect #3: Family of 6. Went to get Subway while they waited. Not one of them seemed ill on any account. But they were hungry...so they got their Subway...then about 30 minutes later I heard one say "K Y'all, let's go". And they were gone. Cool Field trip to the ER.
In walks Prospect #4, who walked in with Prospect #5 who was wheeled in on a stretcher. Looked about 13 (girl). They parked her stretcher. She got up. Went to the desk. Then chilled in a chair. Cool. Prospect #4 clearly wearing pj pants with a shirt slogan'ed "Chick Magnet" Sureeeeeeee.
(All prospects ended up leaving, after enjoying a meal of course....)
...Brannan's still trying hard not to touch anything.
4 hours gone by. No name called. BK3 had fallen asleep. I looked at mom and say "Hey, I'm done. Let's go....this is crazy" Mom asks me if I'm sure I don't want to wait....But I had a feeling we weren't going to get seen til the next day...I was ok with staying up night #3 and just going with it. So we left. That was a fun adventure. No sleep. Exhausted. Contaminated by crazies in the ER. Yet leaving entertained nonetheless.
Sunday night was as expected, awful. BK3 was miserable and so was Mommy. At 8:01 I called the Pediatrician, who got me an appt for 9:00. 8:30 rolls around and I'm heading out the door with Bk3. I realize....My keys are in Brannan's back seat from the night before. It took everything I had not to break down and cry right there. To this day. I still do not know how or why I didn't. Daddy sped home, got me the keys, I sped to the Dr and still made it but 5 minutes late. HOLLA. BK3 gets tested for everything but of course it's just a nasty Virus. Great. So I get to keep suctioning his nose til his brains come out...Not sure if he likes being congested more, or the process of suctioning. I think he'd rather stay congested.
In the grand scheme of things I learned 2 things:
I'd rather be sick any day, if BK3 didn't have to be.
Don't Worry. Be Happy.
Oh & #3.....don't touch anything in the E.R.
Saturday, we celebrated MiMi's life with family and friends. It was a good day. We got BK3 back mid-afternoon, and sadly, it was downhill from there. Saturday night, li'l man ran 102 fever, up to 103 through midnight, and needless to say, Mama and Baby didn't sleep a lick. He was congested. I was a nervous wreck. I quickly got a flashback of his first few days at home after delivery. I'm lucky I didn't have an anxiety attack. LOL. All day Sunday, same news. I thought the Tylenol would help, but li'l man was more and more stopped up and feverish. Miserable. For all parties involved. When I got home from work, I noticed he was having trouble. He was panting, retracting a little and still had the fever. The triage nurse on call told us we might want to take him into the ER. What? Hold up. ER? My li'l dude didn't need to go to the ER. This was crazy. But when his condition didn't improve, we decided it was time to take him in. I was exhausted from 2 nights of no sleep; Worried so much that I couldn't keep anything inside me (and no I wasn't vomiting); And now we were packing up for the ER....on a Sunday night. DING DING Let the fun begin. We didn't even make it into the car outside, without some bum on the street asking for a cigarette....seriously I thought I was in a dream. Baby Brannan not breathing well, loading up for the ER and then about to get jumped. LOVELY.
I sat in the back seat of Brannan's car and tried to keep BK3 calm, but that didn't work. I was a nervous wreck myself. I quickly understood why mom's worry so much about their kids. I hated my li'l dude being sick. And I was sick for him...literally. Needless to say the OLOL ER was a circus. I'm surprised we didn't take a number. Between the numerous "sick" kids running around playing with the toys (isn't it their bedtime?), loud Disney channel blaring on the one TV (hello, there's a football game on people; it's Sunday night) and my baby crying...I didn't know who was going to lose it first...me? maybe. Thankfully mom insisted on coming. So there we were, Brannan (trying not to touch anything), Me (trying not to mess myself), Baby B (miserable), and Mom (seasoned ER attendee)....I looked like a teen mom. Every time I held BK3, he'd cry...so mom took him most of the time. We got him triag-ed so they say....and the nurse said she couldn't hear anything in his chest....oh well. We waited to see the dr. Hour after hour after hour. We saw some mighty exciting things.
Prospect #1: A 3 year old little girl who looked like she had blood drawn from 4 different places. Running playfully. Loud. Slapping her older sister. The usual.
Propect #2: Another 2 or 3 yr old little girl. Looked pretty sick. Following prospect 1, who clearly they didn't know one another. Hello mom, this is the ER...I don't think I'd let my toddler follow another obviously sick child around.
Prospect #3: Family of 6. Went to get Subway while they waited. Not one of them seemed ill on any account. But they were hungry...so they got their Subway...then about 30 minutes later I heard one say "K Y'all, let's go". And they were gone. Cool Field trip to the ER.
In walks Prospect #4, who walked in with Prospect #5 who was wheeled in on a stretcher. Looked about 13 (girl). They parked her stretcher. She got up. Went to the desk. Then chilled in a chair. Cool. Prospect #4 clearly wearing pj pants with a shirt slogan'ed "Chick Magnet" Sureeeeeeee.
(All prospects ended up leaving, after enjoying a meal of course....)
...Brannan's still trying hard not to touch anything.
4 hours gone by. No name called. BK3 had fallen asleep. I looked at mom and say "Hey, I'm done. Let's go....this is crazy" Mom asks me if I'm sure I don't want to wait....But I had a feeling we weren't going to get seen til the next day...I was ok with staying up night #3 and just going with it. So we left. That was a fun adventure. No sleep. Exhausted. Contaminated by crazies in the ER. Yet leaving entertained nonetheless.
Sunday night was as expected, awful. BK3 was miserable and so was Mommy. At 8:01 I called the Pediatrician, who got me an appt for 9:00. 8:30 rolls around and I'm heading out the door with Bk3. I realize....My keys are in Brannan's back seat from the night before. It took everything I had not to break down and cry right there. To this day. I still do not know how or why I didn't. Daddy sped home, got me the keys, I sped to the Dr and still made it but 5 minutes late. HOLLA. BK3 gets tested for everything but of course it's just a nasty Virus. Great. So I get to keep suctioning his nose til his brains come out...Not sure if he likes being congested more, or the process of suctioning. I think he'd rather stay congested.
In the grand scheme of things I learned 2 things:
I'd rather be sick any day, if BK3 didn't have to be.
Don't Worry. Be Happy.
Oh & #3.....don't touch anything in the E.R.
 |
| BK3 in the Dr's office...still smilin' |
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Amazon Mom...come on y'all
Have you found this yet? Baby Brannan decided a few weeks back that he wanted the most expensive Brand of Formula on the market - Nutramigen. Never goes on sale...but I found this Amazon Mom thing that automatically drafts your credit card when you sign up, choose the "subscribe and save" button...and choose the items you want. Here goes...
I Chose 276 count pampers diapers. Through subscribe and save, they're priced at $37.75
Wal mart prices them for $47.19 and Babies R Us has them for $45.99
Amazon.com is shipping these to me for FREE once a month and just debits my card. AMAZING. So no going out to get 'em even. Seriously, I'm going to save at least $7 per box of diapers. Ok. Sold.
Next I looked up the Nutramigen. The biggest can at Babies R Us or Wal mart is 19.8 oz ($34.99/33.99)
Amazon Mom has a case of 6 - 12.6 oz cans for $111.19
So If I were to buy at Wal Mart, it'd be $1.76 per oz.
Amazon Mom has me spending $1.50 per oz. So of course I did the math. I'm saving about $.25 cents per oz....the case has 75.6 total oz (THAT'S $13.95 in savings!) Again, they ship this free to my doorstep however often I ask (once a month, every 2 months, etc). Whenever I want, I can go online and change the amounts, change the item, etc. It's awesome. And they have so many things to choose from for Subscribe and Save.
I may just be sleep-deprived, but I feel like I did my research and it's a deal. If you know I'm just crazy, then please help a girl out and let me know so I don't go losing money on this yo...
Peace.
I Chose 276 count pampers diapers. Through subscribe and save, they're priced at $37.75
Wal mart prices them for $47.19 and Babies R Us has them for $45.99
Amazon.com is shipping these to me for FREE once a month and just debits my card. AMAZING. So no going out to get 'em even. Seriously, I'm going to save at least $7 per box of diapers. Ok. Sold.
Next I looked up the Nutramigen. The biggest can at Babies R Us or Wal mart is 19.8 oz ($34.99/33.99)
Amazon Mom has a case of 6 - 12.6 oz cans for $111.19
So If I were to buy at Wal Mart, it'd be $1.76 per oz.
Amazon Mom has me spending $1.50 per oz. So of course I did the math. I'm saving about $.25 cents per oz....the case has 75.6 total oz (THAT'S $13.95 in savings!) Again, they ship this free to my doorstep however often I ask (once a month, every 2 months, etc). Whenever I want, I can go online and change the amounts, change the item, etc. It's awesome. And they have so many things to choose from for Subscribe and Save.
I may just be sleep-deprived, but I feel like I did my research and it's a deal. If you know I'm just crazy, then please help a girl out and let me know so I don't go losing money on this yo...
Peace.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
What's in a day?
I'm starting to like this little bit of my day that I sit behind the computer and type a li'l bit. It's relaxing. I got home from the studio around 10:30 p.m., said hello to my two loves, heated up some dinner, read a book and rocked B to sleep...and now I sit to type about my day. Didn't really know what to talk about, except all day, I've been contemplating over one simple subject: what's in a day? and why is ours the way it is?
I've always wondered why I have my days. Why my days aren't made up just like that of someone else? Or how would I feel if I had a day like that person had? Not complaining. Just wondering. What's in a day?
My busiest time of year with my job is right now. Usually runs from August 1st to about November 1st. Those 3 months are hectic. Full of choreography, the start of the new dance season, ordering costumes, clean-up rehearsals, competition registrations, etc. I usually don't have one day off in that time-span; I even work on Sundays. Not cool. But has to get done. I'm blessed in the fact that I have a "teachers" schedule. I get off each holiday. I plan my own summers. It's nice. But each year I find myself miserable from time to time around now. Wondering why I chose this job. This year has been particularly worse because I have this beautiful baby Boy that I'd love to sit and hold every single day, all day long. And I can't. But again, I remind myself: This is only temporary.
I often-times get tired around this time...not to mention as we speak, I've got a horrible sinus infection on top of Bronchitis. On so many meds it's not even funny. My body is pooped - worn out - done. And it's letting me know. So as I trek to the studio each day- stressed, overwhelmed, fussy- the question is asked multiple times: What's in this day for me? Today, I think I got a little closer to figuring it out.
Kinda goes with yesterday's talk about Mimi (spelled the name wrong...fixed now). Living each day to the fullest. But not just that. I figured out that I'm here to learn. EVERYTHING has the power to impact my life; to teach me; to help me see a new light or a new circumstance. How boring our lives would be if we knew it all? No surprises, no "ah ha!" moments. So when I dread a short instance of my day, I'll now remember that I'm supposed to be here. This is showing me something; so figure it out Carrie. God is always molding us. He's helping us to find our moment and capture who He would like for us to be. To carry out the job that He has so carefully given to each of us. And when He feels like we've done it; when He feels like we've finished our jobs, then it will be OUR turn to walk through those Heavenly Gates. It will be OUR turn to walk where everyone longs to be. A place of perfection. Of Smiles. Of endless happiness. So I'll keep walking here. I'll keep learning. Most importantly, I'll quit asking why this? And figure out it's for me. Placed so gently in my life, to show me something about myself. To help me grow. Even if most of the time it just means to show more love, compassion, or even harder - patience. Whether with myself or someone else. That's in my day. What's in yours?
I've always wondered why I have my days. Why my days aren't made up just like that of someone else? Or how would I feel if I had a day like that person had? Not complaining. Just wondering. What's in a day?
My busiest time of year with my job is right now. Usually runs from August 1st to about November 1st. Those 3 months are hectic. Full of choreography, the start of the new dance season, ordering costumes, clean-up rehearsals, competition registrations, etc. I usually don't have one day off in that time-span; I even work on Sundays. Not cool. But has to get done. I'm blessed in the fact that I have a "teachers" schedule. I get off each holiday. I plan my own summers. It's nice. But each year I find myself miserable from time to time around now. Wondering why I chose this job. This year has been particularly worse because I have this beautiful baby Boy that I'd love to sit and hold every single day, all day long. And I can't. But again, I remind myself: This is only temporary.
I often-times get tired around this time...not to mention as we speak, I've got a horrible sinus infection on top of Bronchitis. On so many meds it's not even funny. My body is pooped - worn out - done. And it's letting me know. So as I trek to the studio each day- stressed, overwhelmed, fussy- the question is asked multiple times: What's in this day for me? Today, I think I got a little closer to figuring it out.
Kinda goes with yesterday's talk about Mimi (spelled the name wrong...fixed now). Living each day to the fullest. But not just that. I figured out that I'm here to learn. EVERYTHING has the power to impact my life; to teach me; to help me see a new light or a new circumstance. How boring our lives would be if we knew it all? No surprises, no "ah ha!" moments. So when I dread a short instance of my day, I'll now remember that I'm supposed to be here. This is showing me something; so figure it out Carrie. God is always molding us. He's helping us to find our moment and capture who He would like for us to be. To carry out the job that He has so carefully given to each of us. And when He feels like we've done it; when He feels like we've finished our jobs, then it will be OUR turn to walk through those Heavenly Gates. It will be OUR turn to walk where everyone longs to be. A place of perfection. Of Smiles. Of endless happiness. So I'll keep walking here. I'll keep learning. Most importantly, I'll quit asking why this? And figure out it's for me. Placed so gently in my life, to show me something about myself. To help me grow. Even if most of the time it just means to show more love, compassion, or even harder - patience. Whether with myself or someone else. That's in my day. What's in yours?
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Heavy Hearts...and a Smile
It's a sad day in the Webb household. Brannan lost his MeMe today. I had met her a few times before our wedding and every time we'd go see her in the assisted living apartment, she'd tell all of her friends that I was "Brannan's Fiance'"...even when we weren't engaged just yet. I'll never forget the first time I met her. She found out that I teach dance for a living, and she talked for an hour about her love for dance. How "the adagio" was her favorite type of dance, and how she loved it's slow and controlled movement. This was a lady suffering from Dementia, and having a hard time remembering every day basics. But the thought of Dance put a spark in her, and our conversation was beautiful. Something I'll never forget...
Even though I didn't have the privilege of knowing MeMe for a long time, I seem to have learned a lot about her. She's a strong woman, who raised 7 beautiful and compassionate children (4 boys, 3 girls). All of which had several children of their own. And when you look around at Christmas, you can tell who's a "true Plaisance" and who, like me, is married into the family. Just take a look at each person's grin. It's the same in all of their smiles. Beautiful. I learned from Brannan's mom that MeMe told her children to "always smile." About 2 weeks ago, Brannan and I took baby B to MeMe's place to see her. She was dressed to the nines and had the most beautiful smile on her face. As I sat there and watched Brannan hold Baby B in front of MeMe, I learned a lot. MeMe wanted her children and grand children - and Great Grands too, to put their best foot forward. To be their best. And at the top of their best, stands a Smile. It's the easiest way to brighten our own day, as well as someone else's. To make the best of any situation. Carpe Diem.
When Brannan and I were to be married in the Catholic Church, we chose Father Gerry Martin to be our priest for the ceremony. We did this, because once I moved back home from LA, we had started attending St. Patrick's church. Brannan thought to go there, since he knew Fr Martin from childhood at St Thomas More. Fr Martin was now at St. Patricks. I loved his homily right away. We chose him as our priest as well and of course we had to attend a good many meetings in the office of Fr Martin. Just me, Brannan and Father. He knew all of Brannan's Plaisance relatives by name. He could pick them out in a picture. And on the final meeting, we talked about parenting and our plans for children. At the close of our meeting, Fr Martin looked at me and said "Now Carrie, I sure hope you like the Plaisance genes, because they are thick, and that Plaisance Grin will continue to live on." Father, I hope you're right. I can already see the "Plaisance Grin" every time my son gives me that beautiful smile. Baby Brannan's brand new Guardian Angel wouldn't have it any other way ;)
Rest In Peace. Ella Plaisance "MeMe"
Even though I didn't have the privilege of knowing MeMe for a long time, I seem to have learned a lot about her. She's a strong woman, who raised 7 beautiful and compassionate children (4 boys, 3 girls). All of which had several children of their own. And when you look around at Christmas, you can tell who's a "true Plaisance" and who, like me, is married into the family. Just take a look at each person's grin. It's the same in all of their smiles. Beautiful. I learned from Brannan's mom that MeMe told her children to "always smile." About 2 weeks ago, Brannan and I took baby B to MeMe's place to see her. She was dressed to the nines and had the most beautiful smile on her face. As I sat there and watched Brannan hold Baby B in front of MeMe, I learned a lot. MeMe wanted her children and grand children - and Great Grands too, to put their best foot forward. To be their best. And at the top of their best, stands a Smile. It's the easiest way to brighten our own day, as well as someone else's. To make the best of any situation. Carpe Diem.
When Brannan and I were to be married in the Catholic Church, we chose Father Gerry Martin to be our priest for the ceremony. We did this, because once I moved back home from LA, we had started attending St. Patrick's church. Brannan thought to go there, since he knew Fr Martin from childhood at St Thomas More. Fr Martin was now at St. Patricks. I loved his homily right away. We chose him as our priest as well and of course we had to attend a good many meetings in the office of Fr Martin. Just me, Brannan and Father. He knew all of Brannan's Plaisance relatives by name. He could pick them out in a picture. And on the final meeting, we talked about parenting and our plans for children. At the close of our meeting, Fr Martin looked at me and said "Now Carrie, I sure hope you like the Plaisance genes, because they are thick, and that Plaisance Grin will continue to live on." Father, I hope you're right. I can already see the "Plaisance Grin" every time my son gives me that beautiful smile. Baby Brannan's brand new Guardian Angel wouldn't have it any other way ;)
Rest In Peace. Ella Plaisance "MeMe"
 |
| Meme holding B3 on Sept 23rd |
Monday, October 10, 2011
Man's Best Manicurist....
There are a few things I take from today...
1. I'm definitely not that mom who cries harder for the child when the child gets hurt, gets shots, gets dumped, etc...
2. No matter how hard you slave over your husband's favorite dinner, the whole eating process may be upstaged by a miraculous moment performed by the 4 month old.
3. Dogs are man's best friend, t.v. buddy, traveler, park goer, and - manicurist.
4. A wubby makes everything better.
I'll start with 2. Daddy B loves Salisbury steak...ever since he tried making it for me one day and royally failed, I've always tried to surprise him with it from time to time. Today was one of those days. Since I'm trying to get back into the routine of cooking dinner (by 10:30 a.m., since I work 2:30 p.m. until 9:30 or 10 most nights) I promised myself today to do it...Salisbury Steaks and home made mashed potatoes... SO - taught Zumba, went to the grocery, stocked up on the items we'd need; came home, put the baby down, and got to cooking. I was proud of the hoops I jumped through to plan it perfectly with a baby feeding in between the patty making, sauce stirring, etc. And by 1:30, it was complete. I was so proud.
We've been trying to make sure Li'l B gets the tummy time he needs, because he's insisting on not rolling over until he's 30. You see, his body is in the 10th percentile, while his head size is in the 90th. He looks like a lollipop...with hair and dimples. When he gets on his belly, the arms and legs go out, and his head weighs him down, to where he's surfing - on his chest. As I'm walking in the door tonight, Big B yells to me that Li'l B has done it. He rolled over. By himself. Twice. We're so excited at the milestone, and dinner is forgotten. Oh well, it'll heat up well tomorrow. Pat on the back for doing it.
#1 and #3/#4 go together...
Baby B's finger nails are mean pinchers when he gets fussy, or attacks the bottle as if we've never fed him in his short life. I swear they're like little needles going at the backs of my arms sometimes. So it's my job to cut the fingernails. To this day, I've been so good. Careful as can be. Asked several people the best advice on doing it. Even bought the expensive motorized baby nail file that vibrates at the push of a button. Someone got major rich off of that. But after a few tries, what works best for me is just grabbing a small pair of clippers and holding his hand still. Good hand eye coordination on my part, and the deal is done usually in 3 minutes. I always knew I could accidentally nick his little skin...and today, I did :( Now pause.
Jumping to a funny story; Brannan and I dated for 4 years before the wedding in June 2010. The first year of our relationship was long distance, while I lived in Los Angeles, and he lived here in Baton Rouge. We talked a LOT. I can't remember if it was a time when I was visiting home or I had already moved back here, but Brannan had talked me into clipping his toe nails because he said he couldn't do it well (slick eh.) I took one look at his big toe nail and saw the jagged corners - rough edges. Seriously looked like he had grabbed a dull pair of scissors to do the job up until now. I cleaned em up good. Didn't think anymore of it...but assured him I probably wouldn't be the normal nail clipper. Fast forward to several months later when we were watching a movie, laying down. Meet Boss, our 92 Ib Doberman Pinscher, who is the scariest looking, weenie of a dog I know. If he's not by Brannan's side, he cries. Yep, cries like a puppy. Boss was standing at Brannan's side the entire movie. Then I hear crunching. Not sure what it is at first, but then look down at Boss. His face is near Brannan's feet. It didn't take me but 2.4 seconds to put two and two together and realize what was taking place. It didn't take Brannan long to figure out my realization either. He smiled. I was grossed out. For Lord knows how many years, my boyfriend (at the time) had a manicurist by the name of Boss, the Doberman. Explains the jagged edges. Boss loved his job.
Un-Pause from above. Baby Brannan's thumb was nicked. Took him a few seconds of not breathing before he waled for 15 minutes. The damn thing wouldn't stop bleeding. I felt bad, but it happens. I walked around the house with him, wet rag around the finger with pressure to get the bleeding to stop, and praying he'd stop crying. Not one moment did I feel really bad. Shoot me. I figured "Hey I made a mistake, and he needed his finger nails clipped". Again, I felt bad, but it happens. Poor pumpkin. It wasn't long before I grabbed one of the 15 "wubbies" and rocked him to sleep, all with is brand new neosporin covered band-aid on his tiny thumb. Brannan's first Bo bo. And according to Daddy "it was all Mama's fault".
So my 2 hour kitchen kick ass was totally upstaged by the tot's rolling over. Which I cannot be upset about one bit. I didn't cry with li'l B over my mistake of clipping his little thumb...made me wonder what I'd do in the future when the mean li'l girl breaks his heart (still not ruling out retaliation-mode-mama). The wubby makes everything better. And what is Daddy's take on it all?...
...."Babe, next time, let Boss do it; he's gentle"
1. I'm definitely not that mom who cries harder for the child when the child gets hurt, gets shots, gets dumped, etc...
2. No matter how hard you slave over your husband's favorite dinner, the whole eating process may be upstaged by a miraculous moment performed by the 4 month old.
3. Dogs are man's best friend, t.v. buddy, traveler, park goer, and - manicurist.
4. A wubby makes everything better.
I'll start with 2. Daddy B loves Salisbury steak...ever since he tried making it for me one day and royally failed, I've always tried to surprise him with it from time to time. Today was one of those days. Since I'm trying to get back into the routine of cooking dinner (by 10:30 a.m., since I work 2:30 p.m. until 9:30 or 10 most nights) I promised myself today to do it...Salisbury Steaks and home made mashed potatoes... SO - taught Zumba, went to the grocery, stocked up on the items we'd need; came home, put the baby down, and got to cooking. I was proud of the hoops I jumped through to plan it perfectly with a baby feeding in between the patty making, sauce stirring, etc. And by 1:30, it was complete. I was so proud.
We've been trying to make sure Li'l B gets the tummy time he needs, because he's insisting on not rolling over until he's 30. You see, his body is in the 10th percentile, while his head size is in the 90th. He looks like a lollipop...with hair and dimples. When he gets on his belly, the arms and legs go out, and his head weighs him down, to where he's surfing - on his chest. As I'm walking in the door tonight, Big B yells to me that Li'l B has done it. He rolled over. By himself. Twice. We're so excited at the milestone, and dinner is forgotten. Oh well, it'll heat up well tomorrow. Pat on the back for doing it.
#1 and #3/#4 go together...
Baby B's finger nails are mean pinchers when he gets fussy, or attacks the bottle as if we've never fed him in his short life. I swear they're like little needles going at the backs of my arms sometimes. So it's my job to cut the fingernails. To this day, I've been so good. Careful as can be. Asked several people the best advice on doing it. Even bought the expensive motorized baby nail file that vibrates at the push of a button. Someone got major rich off of that. But after a few tries, what works best for me is just grabbing a small pair of clippers and holding his hand still. Good hand eye coordination on my part, and the deal is done usually in 3 minutes. I always knew I could accidentally nick his little skin...and today, I did :( Now pause.
Jumping to a funny story; Brannan and I dated for 4 years before the wedding in June 2010. The first year of our relationship was long distance, while I lived in Los Angeles, and he lived here in Baton Rouge. We talked a LOT. I can't remember if it was a time when I was visiting home or I had already moved back here, but Brannan had talked me into clipping his toe nails because he said he couldn't do it well (slick eh.) I took one look at his big toe nail and saw the jagged corners - rough edges. Seriously looked like he had grabbed a dull pair of scissors to do the job up until now. I cleaned em up good. Didn't think anymore of it...but assured him I probably wouldn't be the normal nail clipper. Fast forward to several months later when we were watching a movie, laying down. Meet Boss, our 92 Ib Doberman Pinscher, who is the scariest looking, weenie of a dog I know. If he's not by Brannan's side, he cries. Yep, cries like a puppy. Boss was standing at Brannan's side the entire movie. Then I hear crunching. Not sure what it is at first, but then look down at Boss. His face is near Brannan's feet. It didn't take me but 2.4 seconds to put two and two together and realize what was taking place. It didn't take Brannan long to figure out my realization either. He smiled. I was grossed out. For Lord knows how many years, my boyfriend (at the time) had a manicurist by the name of Boss, the Doberman. Explains the jagged edges. Boss loved his job.
Un-Pause from above. Baby Brannan's thumb was nicked. Took him a few seconds of not breathing before he waled for 15 minutes. The damn thing wouldn't stop bleeding. I felt bad, but it happens. I walked around the house with him, wet rag around the finger with pressure to get the bleeding to stop, and praying he'd stop crying. Not one moment did I feel really bad. Shoot me. I figured "Hey I made a mistake, and he needed his finger nails clipped". Again, I felt bad, but it happens. Poor pumpkin. It wasn't long before I grabbed one of the 15 "wubbies" and rocked him to sleep, all with is brand new neosporin covered band-aid on his tiny thumb. Brannan's first Bo bo. And according to Daddy "it was all Mama's fault".
So my 2 hour kitchen kick ass was totally upstaged by the tot's rolling over. Which I cannot be upset about one bit. I didn't cry with li'l B over my mistake of clipping his little thumb...made me wonder what I'd do in the future when the mean li'l girl breaks his heart (still not ruling out retaliation-mode-mama). The wubby makes everything better. And what is Daddy's take on it all?...
...."Babe, next time, let Boss do it; he's gentle"
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| B with his "wubby", notice the thumb. |
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Welcome to WEBBisodes
I've always wanted to create a blog...loved to write, since I can't remember, so I'm glad I have finally decided to sit down and start this. Never been a good "scrap - booker", so hoping this fulfills the necessity for future walks down Memory Lane.
I'm Carrie. Married to the man of my dreams, Brannan Jr. Four and a half months ago, I gave birth to our first child, Brannan III. It's funny to think that 5 years ago, I was living the life in Los Angeles, trying to make it big in the dance industry. And now, owner of a dance school with 100+ dancers, married, and most importantly - a mom. I love God with all my heart. Without faith, I wouldn't be standing. It's that simple.
I feel like my life is interesting; and while I'm promising myself that I will NOT fill this blog with the many joys, aggravations, minute psycho-moments of my profession, I hope that I can create the wonderful story-line that makes up my days. In these short 28 years of my life, I feel like I've learned a lot - not forgetting for one moment that I've got so much more learning ahead. Hell, I feel like the world has turned upside down, been swallowed, spit back up, and washed off the burp rag - JUST in these past 4 1/2 months. I love this new amazing role of "mom", and I do realize that life has just begun. So, join me as I gear up, buckle up, saddle up (in LP) or just spit up (like Li'l B). I'm a Webb, and these are the Webb-isodes :)
I'm Carrie. Married to the man of my dreams, Brannan Jr. Four and a half months ago, I gave birth to our first child, Brannan III. It's funny to think that 5 years ago, I was living the life in Los Angeles, trying to make it big in the dance industry. And now, owner of a dance school with 100+ dancers, married, and most importantly - a mom. I love God with all my heart. Without faith, I wouldn't be standing. It's that simple.
I feel like my life is interesting; and while I'm promising myself that I will NOT fill this blog with the many joys, aggravations, minute psycho-moments of my profession, I hope that I can create the wonderful story-line that makes up my days. In these short 28 years of my life, I feel like I've learned a lot - not forgetting for one moment that I've got so much more learning ahead. Hell, I feel like the world has turned upside down, been swallowed, spit back up, and washed off the burp rag - JUST in these past 4 1/2 months. I love this new amazing role of "mom", and I do realize that life has just begun. So, join me as I gear up, buckle up, saddle up (in LP) or just spit up (like Li'l B). I'm a Webb, and these are the Webb-isodes :)
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