Are Toys Really Necessary?

Our house is full of toys.  I told myself that I never wanted our living room to look like a gigantic playroom, but somehow the coffee table moved in front of the fireplace for more play room, and toys line the rug in the middle of floor, all for the joy of our little baby to play! Well, I've started to notice that many of the toys seem to sit collecting dust while many other things in the house are getting played with quite often.  My son enjoys many things that are well, flat out, not toys. 

Here's a few of his favorite "non-toy toys":

1.  Doors.

 

 

Although my son hasn't mastered door opening (I know it's coming soon!) he loves to shut them.  And since he can't open them quite yet on his own, I am right there to open them again for him, then he closes, then I open, then he closes...you get the idea. Maybe monotonous, but he loves it! He especially loves when I scare the poo poo of out him by getting really low to the ground like him and have my face right in the door as I open it.  I usually proceed with a "Boo" or "I'm Gonna Getcha!" in which he jumps, giggles, and shuts the door.  And we start the process all over again. 


2.  Pots and Pans. 

(I didn't have a pic of Carson in the kitchen with pots

and pans, but he loves the decorative pot in our bedroom. 

I tend to find lots of funny, random things inside.)

 

 

We have child safety locks on all our bottom cabinets in the kitchen except for the ones that hold the pots and pans, on purpose!  Carson loves to open the cabinets and pull out everything inside banging the pots and pans and pushing them all over the tile floor.  It's awesome.  He's entertained.  He's safe.  He's in my sight.  And, I can cook dinner!  Probably the best "non-toy toy"!


3.  Clothes - Especially Socks. 

 

 

When I need to fold the laundry, I grab the warm clothes from the dryer and dump them in the middle of the floor of our living room.  Carson thinks it is so fun to jump on all the warm clothes and cuddle with them.  He also likes to throw the clothes all around the room. (It's not as cute once I've folded the clothes, but I've smartened up and now place the folded clothes on top of the couch out of his reach.)  He also likes sock balls.  I didn't always call them "sock balls", but since Carson loves balls and loves to throw balls, folded socks now become "balls" as well.  We've had many sock ball throwing sessions!


4.  The Remote Control. 

 

 

Carson loves to play with the remote, push the buttons and see them light up.  I also think he likes it so much because he sees it in his mommy and daddy's hands as well.  He also knows to point it at the T.V. (I think that's a bit of a hint that we watch too much television).  Anyway, I smartened up here too, because giving my child the remote during my favorite recorded show all for him to turn it to divorce court or "On-Demand" gets a bit frustrating. So, I took an old remote, removed the batteries, and let the little kid go nuts!


5. Toilet Paper. 

 

 

My son is active, very active.  So when I have to use the bathroom, I take him with me.  I don't trust him in the living room or bedroom by himself, so we take bathroom breaks.  He has learned that the toilet paper roll and the extra rolls are quite fun to pull apart.  This "toy" could get quite pricey if you think I would just throw away the mess once he was done.  Nope, I definitely fold it up and place it on the counter to use when I need it.  The things we do...


It's interesting to try to look at life through my one-year-old's eyes.  He wakes up each day ready to explore and learn something new.  He views each "toy" as something to figure out.  The sounds, the feel, unfortunately the taste, too, of many things he shouldn't... But the world is there, waiting for him to enjoy and discover it!  Everything is a "toy".  I truly treasure his innocence and playfulness toward life, and to his toys, and of course to his non-toy toys, too!

"Be Quick to Listen, Slow to Speak, and Slow to Become Angry"

As my husband's and my 3rd wedding anniversary approaches, (tomorrow! - I need to go buy a card!) I can't help but reflect on the past 3 years of our marriage.  So many times I catch myself saying to my husband,

"I am the luckiest woman on earth.  How did I find someone as great as you?"

My relationship with Brett has always come easy.  From our first flirty tennis date in 2007, we were infatuated with each other.  We never had to work or wonder about our relationship. Once, when we were in college and only dating a couple of months, we both had big study nights ahead of us.  We didn't necessarily have time to hang out, but Brett found himself at my sorority house just wanting to see me.  I, too, wanted to see him.  We picked up study snacks; you know, Gatorades, Red Bulls, pretzels, chocolate... the diet of all late-night college students.  We were just two kids without a care in the world.  Being in each other's presence was always enough.  It never mattered what we were doing, as long as we were together. 

Living together also came easy.  I  remember talking to other couples and wasn't able to relate to the annoyance or difficulty that came with living with the opposite sex for the first time.  Our first place together was probably all of 600 sq. feet and we couldn't have been happier.   Even with my "a little bit less than perfect clean house"  and his particularity with things in certain places, everything just fell into place.  Livin' was easy. Our marriage, our jobs... life was good.

Life is still good. But as I look at our relationship this past year, for the first time, Brett and I have had to "work" on our relationship. The stress of his job has increased, finances have been tighter with only one income, and we do not have near enough alone time with a baby in the house. 

We've found ourselves bickering and fighting more than I think we both would like to admit.

Brett and I have always been good about settling our disagreements.  We talk.  We communicate.  We let each other know our feelings -- the good, the bad, and the ugly.  I think lately, we still talk, we still communicate, yet the delivery in which we let each other know our differences has been less than desirable. 

Lately, I have been deeply studying the Book of James.  My lovely Bible Study women and I have picked a study that solely goes through this particular book of the Bible pretty much verse-by-verse.  James has always been my favorite book, with its analogies and life application; it's an English Teacher's dream!  Being someone that has grown up knowing God and studying his Word, I have many times become immune to what the Bible tells me.  This time, I have been craving for God to speak to me.  I didn't want this to be another study that I can just add to my collection. "Please, God, let these words speak to me and change my heart." Well, He heard me.  A verse that I even have memorized jumped out at me and said: 

"Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man's anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires." James 1:19 

So I reflect on my own actions lately with my husband according to this verse:

1. Quick to Listen.  So, this first means shutting up.  Don't have the first word...or the last.  Just listen.  Listen without the preparation of what I am going to say next.  Listen and understand his side, his opinions, his heart.

2. Slow to speak.  When I first read this, I thought, okay, more listening. Got it.  But as I realized the type of writer James, brother of Jesus, is, I knew that he is so intentional with each of his words.   He wouldn't repeat himself in this way.  Take note, Dianna, what is he saying?  For lack of a better analogy, I think of word vomit.  Word vomit is saying things without even thinking about what you want to say before it comes out of your mouth.  Like vomit, it just has its way of spewing out of you probably not in the most lovely of ways.  Instead, James wants me to be wise with my words.  I need to realize that every word I say can have a lasting effect. 

3. Slow to become angry.  This one hit home.  I wouldn't say I am angry, but I'm definitely moody.  Come on, I'm pregnant!  Can't I be exempt from this one?   Life can give someone all sorts of reasons to be nasty to other people, not feeling well, stressed, tired, anxiety, sadness... it is how we deal with these certain emotions that come our way that show our true colors. 

My colors haven't been the prettiest lately toward my husband. Pregnancy is not an excuse.

Regardless of what life throws at us (and I think we've had it pretty good; my family is showered with blessings), we are called to love one another.  James had this figured out.  He didn't say only certain people should do this.  He called EVERYONE to action.  This is a command for ALL people. Even pregnant people. ;)

One of the reasons I love Brett so much is his genuine heart.  He cares to know me and my feelings.  He's not too "manly" to pray or show his feelings as well.  We've even been praying more together.  I notice when it's not just the two of us, but we include God in our relationship, it seems to become easy again. We try to embody what James had to say.

As I pray this week, I pray that my son (and my growing lil' baby in my belly) also finds God's word.  I pray that Brett and I teach them from a young age what it means to go to God for guidance in their lives. 

Happy Anniversary, Babe. I am so thankful and blessed to have you as my husband. 

"I am the luckiest girl in the world". 

I Used IVF for My First Child and Then Got Pregnant Naturally

"You have a 0% chance of conceiving a baby naturally," said my OBGYN to me after my second attempt at a fallopian tubal dye study. 

Punch in stomach.

Can't Breath.

Heartache. 

With my husband by my side we left the small surgery center in complete shock. 

I remember somewhat holding it together until we reached the car.  I opened the passenger door, sat down, put my hands over my face and bawled and bawled and bawled.  We both were not prepared for this news. 

This isn't supposed to happen to me! I'm meant to be a mom.  I have to have my own baby!  Will I ever have children?  Will my husband resent me?  I felt embarrassed.  I know that's a weird feeling to have, but I was.  At that moment, I felt like I was somehow less of a woman.

A couple months earlier I was diagnosed with endometriosis.  So I was informed that infertility was a possibility, but of course everyone always thinks, "not me".  

If you are wondering what endometriosis is, here's the short version:

Every time I have my period I have displaced tissue that should normally be in the uterus break down and bleed in other parts of my body.  Eventually it causes scar tissue throughout the pelvic region.  It can cause severe pain during the menstrual cycle, pain in the lower abdomen, and pain during intercourse.  I will have endometriosis as long as I have a period.

I ended up having laparoscopic surgery to confirm the endometriosis and see how severe it was in my body.  It was mainly in my ovaries, cervix, and fallopian tubes.  During this procedure, the first fallopian tubal dye study was attempted to see if the tubes were blocked with scar tissue. The dye did not successfully move through the tubes. 

 After hearing the devastating news, my OBGYN decided to give me a bit more hope and do the tubal dye study one more time just in case my body didn't accept the fluid because it was under stress with the surgery.  

Since this procedure was minimally invasive, I was able to watch the procedure on a computer screen while it was happening.

I remember the nurse saying, "It's really cool; you will be able to see the dye flow through the tubes like a maze."

Dye went in, and there was no movement.  It just stopped.  Stupid nurse.  Why would she say that?

(picture obtained from asrm.org)

Up to this point I seriously did not think anything would go wrong.  I thought I would complete the tests, see all was good, and keep going on with life.  Well, this was definitely a life-changer.  To hear the news I could not conceive naturally was absolutely devastating. 

So, there my husband and I stood.  Newlyweds.  Children not even on the horizon.  And I was told my only chance for having children would be through in vitro fertilization. 

A little anatomy lesson for you:  The fallopian tubes are mandatory in order to make a baby.  During ovulation, one egg is dropped through one of the fallopian tubes.  From there, it is able to be fertilized. Therefore, IVF would specifically place the fertilized egg inside my uterus bypassing the tubes altogether. 

So, after pitying myself for about a month.  I decided to keep going. I would not let this get the best of me. I had options and I needed to stay positive. 

Although my husband and I weren't quite on board with having a baby yet, we went ahead and made an appointment with the fertility doctor. 

After talking through our options and money, we decided to try naturally for a couple months.  We knew it was a long-shot but we had to at least try the natural course for having a baby. 

(Yes, we started preparing to make a baby even before we were ready.  Is anyone truly ever ready?  I pushed my husband a bit more than he wanted to be pushed, but I couldn't imagine life without a baby. I also knew time was on my side since I am young.  As a couple, we decided we didn't want to look back and say, "We should have tried earlier.")


We had no luck with trying naturally.  But, it did justify us taking the next step... and a big one that was!  We decided to go through with in vitro fertilization.

Since there are many doctor appointments during the IVF process, we decided to start the process while I was on summer break (one benefit of being a teacher). 

Although I have tried to block out the specifics of those two months, let me give you an idea of what I went through:

I was on lots of hormones.  The goal is to release more than the normal one egg during ovulation so there are more eggs to pick from to fertilize.  Hints A LOT of HORMONES to make more eggs!

(My schedule of hormone injections.

 We had to be consistent every day with the timing of injections.)

I really got used to giving blood.  I had to give my vitals and blood work every week.  My husband also had to give me shots about twice a day.  I never watched.  I would just prepare myself, relax my body, close me eyes, and wait for it to be over.  He hated hurting me, but he was awesome.  He was my rock through all of it. 

I remember the first shots I had to do were in my lower abdomen.  The doctor put two big "x marks the spot" X's on each side of my abdomen so my husband knew where to inject the hormones.  I remember, at times, there wasn't any place to insert the needle that didn't hurt since I had bruises from all my previous shots.

Then, came the big guys! I had to take shots in my lower back/upper butt.  You should have seen the size of those needles!  My husband had to inject a thick liquid into my bare ass! Talk about, OUCH!  The liquid was so thick it took forever to inject!

Along with the shots, I had plenty of oral medication to take, too.  The side effects were not fun either.  I was mostly lethargic and depressed.  I was under strict instructions to not work up a sweat. So what's a girl to do in July in Florida?  I sat on my couch and gained 10 pounds!  I was so ready for that part to be over!

So once my eggs were finally ready, I underwent surgery to retrieve the eggs.  That was our first great news. The doctor retrieved so many eggs, they called me the "egg lady" at the fertility clinic.  That was really promising!

My eggs then got a grade.  Literally, they were assigned a grade from A to F-- just like in school.  The doctor said I had about 12 grade-A eggs! We even laughed saying I could have a whole football team if I wanted. 

Then, it was finally my husband's turn.  The sperm.  Of course his one part in all of this was "pleasurable" for him!

We then had a choice to make.  The doctor asked if we wanted to put one or two eggs in my uterus.  He said since my eggs were so good that most likely both would take.  I asked him what are the percentages?  A normal person (how most of us got here on this earth) is about 30% chance that the egg and sperm will take.  Since science is involved here, my percentages went up to about 50%. 

This was tough.  We had already gone through lots of pain, time, energy and money, and we had to choose either one egg or two? Brett and I, still nervous about the baby life and the added stress of a multiple pregnancy on my body, we decided to gamble on just one egg.  We just couldn't fathom twins in our future. 

So, literally all of my eggs (egg) were in one basket (uterus). With $14,000 riding on this one egg, talk about ANXIETY!

(Yeah, I forgot to mention the money.  Even though I had two insurances, one with my job at Duval County Public Schools and one with my husband's insurance through his company, none of it was covered.  It came to around $14,000 out of pocket expenses. Worth. Every. Penny.)

The egg and sperm are fertilized outside of the body and grows for about a week before inserted into the uterus.  I continued to take hormones in order to trick my body it was a week pregnant although there was no fertilized egg in it in order for my body to accept the fertilized egg. 

The day finally came!  It was a quick and pretty much a painless procedure.  I was even able to see the insertion of the egg into the uterus. That was cool.

(The bright dot in middle left is the fertilized egg inserted into the uterus!)



We waited and prayed, and waited and prayed.  It worked!  And of course, the rest is history.  We got pregnant, and now have an amazing beautiful baby boy.  (My heart goes out for all the women who have to go through multiple rounds of IVF.  You are so strong.) 

So now back to the revelation I guess, huh?

I'm PREGNANT! Naturally! AHHHHHHHHHHHH!  How cool is this? No hormones. No needles.  No money.

We got this one for free! ;)

We thought Carson was our miracle baby, but now we feel like this one is!  I guess all babies are miracles. 

So how can this be? Well, for 9 months I didn't have a period along with 9 months of breastfeeding, so my scar tissue started to heal.  Pregnancy was the best thing for my endometriosis! I didn't have a period for a year and a half.  Actually, I've yet to have a period. 

And of course, as it says in the book of James, "All good and perfect gifts are from above."  Thank you, Lord, for all our many blessings.  So many times I fall short of Your glory, yet You provide me with more than I ever deserve. Thank YOU, God, for our first child, and my pregnancy, now.

Of course I didn't really think I was pregnant when I took the pregnancy test.  I had been working out the past month and really trying to eat healthy, and yet, my belly still looked so bloated.  I kept waiting for my period to come.  Finally, I asked my husband to buy me a pregnancy test just to be cautious.  He bought the cheapest one at the store, seriously not wanting to waste the money on a negative result.  But, good thing he bought a two-pack because we both couldn't believe it! I had to double check!

We were in shock, but this time it was pure astonishment and excitement!

So, here I am. 9 weeks pregnant.  Still super early and on some hormones just to play it safe.

 We are praying for another healthy baby come early September! =)

Why Should I Make My Bed?

I have to admit, I have never seen the logic in making my bed. I have fought with my mom countless times on this particular topic and our conversations used to go something like:


"Dianna, go make you bed."

"Whhhhhy?" (with way too much 14-year-old attitude) "All I am going to do is get back in it again tonight."

'It looks nice and it will feel good when you get home."

"But, that's totally pointless! It takes too much time and I could be doing other things." (my rationale)


 I've pretty much had this stance on bed making my whole life.  Just ask my childhood friend (who literally has made her bed everyday of her life) or my college roommates.  It just wasn't me. I only felt the need to make the bed if we were having company over. 

So the day has come where I can eat my words.  I am 28-years-old and have finally come to the realization that a made bed is a TOTAL game changer for the day. Once that bed is made, my day has officially started.  It just doesn't feel right to lay around in my p.j.'s once it's made.  If the bed is made, I'm in business. And since my business is being a mom and house keeper, this is a wonderful thing.

When people ask me how I am enjoying staying at home with my child, I seem to say I am doing great as a mom.  I know my job is to take care of my little honey bunny.  But, doing the whole house wife thing has had some getting used to.  Getting a routine together is tough for me.  Trying to find the time to get the daily chores done, take care of Carson, and find time for myself is not always easy.  I have TOTALLY underestimated how hard it is to keep the house in order while looking after my little one. 

 Of course before my son arrived  I would fantasize about not having a job and I would get all tickled inside thinking how much time I would have to clean and keep the house in order.  Laundry would be constantly done, dinner would be 5-star quality, and of course, I did all of this looking FAB-U-LOUS!  Well, in reality, I am lucky if I get a 10 minute shower, throw on some work out clothes, and straighten up the kitchen and living room. 

Too many days would go by where I would end up taking care of Carson all day and very little would get accomplished around the house.  So, I noticed when I made the bed, it was a total motivator.  A clean bed would inspire me to clean other areas of the house too. 

So, I guess all who have understood the reasons for this small, simple household task are laughing at me saying,

"Seriously? This is a revelation?"

 But yes, I realized I am a better wife and mother when I make my bed.  My day gets started and I am ready to tackle other things.  (It is also really nice to let down the comforter at night and slip into the cool sheets!)

2014 New Year's Resolution:  Make my freakin' bed!   

Your welcome, mom. 

Just 20 Minutes to the New Me!

Lately I have been wanting to lose this dreaded baby weight.  I thought by now I'd be well on my way to my best body ever, but unfortunately, that is not the case.  As the holidays approach, I look down at my tummy and it seems to resemble the contour of Frosty the Snowman or Santa's "bowl full of jelly" more than I'd like to admit. 

Ideally, I would like to have an hour or so at the gym each night, but somehow that never ends up happening.  Life gets in the way.  By the time my husband is home to watch my son, I've already started dinner and prepared Carson for bed.  After dinner I am all too comfortable sitting on the couch watching "Bing Bang Theory" enjoying the peace that comes with a sleeping baby.  So, another day seems to fly by without exercising. 

I know what you're thinking. "Why not just jog with your baby in the stroller during the day?" And, sometimes I do.  But... it's just different.  I don't seem to get the same workout. 

Recently I have been going on a run around the neighborhood for around 20 minutes each evening.  What's 20 minutes to take time for myself?  How could anyone deny me 20 minutes?  I notice it's a lot easier to ask for 20 minutes to take a quick jog than it is to get in the car, go to the gym, and come home. 

20 minutes seems like nothing.  My husband is quickly willing to take Carson or pick up with the dinner routine when I say it's only 20 minutes that I need.  In his mind, it is not even enough time to watch a full episode of "Seinfeld" or enough time to waste all his lives on Candy Crush.  So,  I usually get my 20 minutes without any complaints.

(I should mention my hubby does help more than just 20 minutes a day.  I do get time away while he watches Carson.  But, on a normal night, even when he has Carson, I am still in mommy world watching them play and enjoying our family.)

The initial reason I started this 20 minute jog around the neighborhood  was to stop giving excuses--even if it was just a measly 20 minutes.  But, it has actually turned into so much more:

My 20 minutes begin.  Shutting the door behind me, I leave.  I leave the diaper changes, the feedings, the crying, the laundry, the dirty kitchen floors, the exhaustion, the chaos--I leave it all behind as I lift my head up and let the Florida sun shine on my face.  I walk through my front yard toward the neighborhood sidewalk putting my earbuds in my ears.  I click on the Pandora app on my iphone and choose Rhianna Radio, which, by the way, happens to be the best station for all the kick-butt women songs!  There is an immediate release of endorphins as my blood starts pumping and my feet move faster one in front of the other. All my "mom worries" seem to be lifting off my back.  I feel lighter.  My outlook on the world is no longer a small scope but a panoramic view. 

I love working out to a really good song.  It's amazing what music can do to one's mood.  I start to imagine myself breaking it down on the dance floor of an imaginary club or belting out a song on stage in front of Randy Jackson.  The song recently that has quite possibly even made me fist pump the air mid-stride is Katy Perry's song, "Roar":

"...I got the eye of the tiger, a fighter, dancing through the fire
Cause I am a champion and you’re gonna hear me ROAR
Louder, louder than a lion
Cause I am a champion and you’re gonna hear me ROAR
Oh oh oh oh oh oh
You’re gonna hear me roar..."

I am transformed in an instant.  For just a little bit I am not just "mommy", but so much more.  I am hip and cool (I realize just by saying those words I am quite the opposite, but this is my own dream world!) I am sexy.  I am woman.  I am super-woman. 

Although tired, I seem to pick up the pace a bit as I near the end of my jog.  I imagine I am on "The Biggest Loser" while Jillian Michaels yells in my ear,  "Don't give up.  You can do it!"

I'm back on my door step.  I feel good... really good.  And not just because I worked out, but because I got a moment for myself.  A moment (or more like 20 minutes) to realize that there is so much more to me as a woman than just the role of mother and wife.  I start to aspire more for myself.  Things like working hard to obtain the body I deserve to have, get out in the community and serve, or spend more quality time with my friends.   

I open the door to my house.  It is exactly as I have left it, but the point in which I see it has changed.

I kiss my baby's face all over and then look to my husband and say, "Thank you, I needed that."

I Can Have a Life, and a Baby too!

Being a first time mom and a stay-at-home mom, my life truly does revolve around my child.  My day revolves around Carson, when he wakes, when he eats, when he naps...you get the idea.   I have fallen into role of "mommy" wonderfully in terms of taking care of my child, yet my social life has taken a deep plunge. 

I see some moms who continue on in a way much like their lives before children.  They attend college football games, constantly post pictures of travel and date nights, and somehow already have amazing post baby bodies, too!

A normal daily outing for Carson and me consists of a trip to Publix or a walk around the neighborhood.  A BIG outing consists of a play date with another mommy and baby or, on a rare occasion, out to dinner. 

I know I am in the category of worrier/overprotective mother.  Hey, it's my first time and I just love the Cuddle Monster so much! I cant help but worry.  I WISH I could be more carefree and adventurous with my child.  I mention these other mothers all out of PURE JEALOUSY.  I could easily obtain the lives I envy, but I somehow always have a range of excuses that hold me back.  The excuses go something like...

"We don't have family members that live near us to help out."

"We don't have day care."

"I'm still breastfeeding."

"We don't want to spend money."

"Getting a babysitter (stranger) is scary!"

...and the one I notice myself saying the most...

"I don't know if Carson will handle (insert activity here) well?"

So, the revelation that my baby and I can handle A LOT more than I give us credit for came when our family went to go visit my best friend. Leave it to the best friend to teach ya somethin'... and she doesn't even have kids!

It was going on the side of WAY-TO-LONG since I've seen my college bestie/sorority sister.  We somehow would try to plan a trip to see each other and then the plans would fall through.  Finally, we just decided to pick a date, put it on the calendar, and hold to it. 

So my husband, 7-month-old baby and I packed our Ford Edge far more than we needed to for a weekend get-away, and we were off on our 6-hour trip from Jacksonville to Pensacola to visit my friend, Olivia, and her husband, Bentley. 

One of the many things I cherish about Olivia is her zest for life.  She makes me get out of my comfort zone.  She always has. (That's probably why we have LOTS of great stories to tell from our college adventures!) So, visiting her was nothing short of busy and fun!  I wanted so badly to hang out with my best friend and be the mom that went with the flow.  But each activity that we did, I had terrible anxiety about how it would turn out. Here's a list of the many things we did during the roughly 36 hours we were there...( all with baby in tow!)

Friday:
-arrived in town late and ate Bentley's amazing cedar plank salmon while sipping on wine and laughing about who knows what.... Carson even stayed up till 11:30

Saturday:
- went out to eat for breakfast
- attended a walking tour of historic downtown Pensacola, FL (Carson only had one almost accident involving a hundred-year-old piece of china in one of Florida's oldest homes!)

- went home to regroup and pump breast milk
- walked around the Seafood Festival in downtown Pensacola
- headed to a bar to watch the Florida State football game

(O.K. here is where I have to tell you my mommy anxiety meter was burning bright red. I was pretty impressed by how much we had done throughout the day so far, but a BAR?

This is how the scenario played out in my head when I heard we were taking Carson to a bar to watch the game:

I walk in to the dark smoke-filled packed bar cradling my baby while being pushed from all directions until I find a seat to sit with my child.  Everyone is staring at me thinking how awful of a mother I am to have a child in a bar. "How could she?!" Beer is sloshing everywhere while people are yelling and cheering at the television screens.  Of course, Carson is crying!

Reality:

I walk into the open, clean, sun-filled room where everyone is sitting at tables eating lunch pleasantly watching the game.  It's just like any sports bar on an early Saturday afternoon; all different types are there to watch the game, families included.  It's relatively quiet while Carson, Olivia and I walk over to our husbands waiting on us with chairs for us to sit in. We order some food and drinks.  People come over to Carson to tell us how cute he is in his Seminole jersey. 

So, yes.  My imagination definitely ran away from me! Good thing I had Olivia there to tell me all was going to be O.K. before we walked in.  Carson loved the clapping and cheering and all the commotion to keep him busy! He lasted the whole 4 hours of the game at that bar!  Of course it was a bit tiring for my husband and I to hold him the whole time, but ultimately we all had a great time watching our 'Noles win!

Back to the list...

- headed back to the house to regroup and give Carson a nap
- went back to Seafood Festival to eat dinner and attend an 80's cover band concert

Sunday:
- went for a walk around Olivia's beautiful historic neighborhood
- ate brunch at a restaurant overlooking the gulf

- relaxed on the beach before our trip home

I didn't want to tell Olivia no to any of these things just because I was nervous about how Carson would handle it.  I wanted to show her I could do it all and live it up like we used to.  I only denied her once when she tried to get her neighbor to watch Carson while we went to the concert.  A stranger watch my child? I'm not that carefree.  I know I was a nervous wreck at times worrying about all these "new" adventures with Carson, but ultimately I had a blast. I loved spending time with my best friend and it meant the world to me for her to meet Carson. 

Did we do a lot in a 36-hour time frame? Heck ya.  Was I tired? That's an understatement.

But the real question:

How did Carson do? Just fine.  Wow, I could do more than just take him to the grocery store and back in a day? What a revelation!

I couldn't help but look at Olivia's life and envy it a bit.  Her husband is killing it as a new lawyer in town while she is doing awesome expanding her father's business and teaching dance at night.  They also have tons of friends and seem to be quite the socialites of Pensacola.  I wouldn't expect anything less from this power couple!

It made me reflect on my life and my situation.  Of course we can't do all that they do or have weekends like that all the time, but we can definitely get out a little more!  I need to stop making excuses because I am nervous or anxious about the unknown. 


God bless my friendship with Olivia.  A friend that is good company is great, but a friend that can make you become a better version of yourself is one to be cherished. Since my visit with Olivia, I have started to say yes to so much more! Not only will it benefit Carson to have new experiences, but Mommy and Daddy will start to get some "normalcy" back into their lives again, too!

My Pit Bull is Great with My Baby

My 8-year-old pit bull, Sadie, and my almost 8-month-old baby, Carson, have the sweetest friendship between dog and baby.  Although this is not necessarily a revelation to me, I can see how some people would have their doubts about such a close, sweet friendship.

I used to be in this category of people:  "Pit bulls are scary.  They are bred to kill and protect.  They are unpredictable.  I would never want one for a pet, or nonetheless, around my child." 

This all changed when I met Sadie in 2007.   My husband rescued her in 2005 from an animal shelter in Tallahassee, FL.  She had scabies, heartworm, an ear infection and was guessed to be around 4-months-old. He had no intention of taking home a dog that day, but he couldn't refuse that pitiful puppy face staring at him through the bars.  He made a promise that day that he would never have her live that way again.

Sadie has given us such joy in the time we've had her.  If you are a dog lover like us, you know that there are some dogs that just have that something special about them.  Sadie is nothing short of special.

Sadie has a very sweet demeanor about her.  Many of her qualities seem human-like.  She is sensitive and sweet.  If you were to come to our house today, Sadie would greet you at the door, lick you like crazy, and follow you around the house.  She would sit right next to you hoping for a good scratching behind the ears or patting on the head.  Her eyes are the best; she looks at you like she's looking into your soul. 

Sadie does some things that I have never seen a dog do before:

Sadie will not eat food unless you tell her its for her.  What dog does this? We even have a big OPEN box of treats that sit on the floor of our laundry room which remains untouched. She will only eat them if we give them to her. 

She also has the funniest, "UH-OH" face.  If she does something wrong, like pee on the floor or chew a toy that is not hers, she will curl up her lip showing all of her teeth.  We think its her, "I'm sorry" face. 

She also hates yelling.  My husband and I have some cute memories of being newlyweds where we would start bickering/yelling at each other and then have to start "whisper fighting" since it would make Sadie shake and get scared. It's like she keeps us in check of our emotions. 

Sadie has never, and I truly mean NEVER, hurt a human being.  In the almost 9 years she's been alive, not I, nor my husband, have seen her nip, bite, or growl at a human being. 

But, I shouldn't lie and tell you she is an innocent angel.  She is still a dog.  An instinctual dog.  And all dogs should be monitored as such. 

Here's some interesting/funny/sad things Sadie has done throughout the years:

1. Brought a live opossum into the house as a present - 3 different times.  Standing up on couches, swooshing them with brooms, trapping them in trash bags, all make for great, funny memories. 

2.  Took down a baby deer that was running through my in-law's property in the country. The deer was able to get away. 

3. Dragged squirrels and birds onto the bed for us to stumble upon.

4. Killed a barn cat that kept running onto my in-law's property.

5.  Attacked a rattle snake and ended up with three bites on her nose and lip.  Luckily the anti-venom saved her life in time. 

So, it's safe to say, if there is an animal that she doesn't know, and it is on the run, she will instinctually run after it.  

There is one animal story with Sadie that melts my heart: 

Sadie was acquainted with a baby squirrel that fell out of a tree one Christmas holiday. This squirrel was so young that my mother-in-law had to feed it throughout the night.  It would stay in a towel on her bedside table, until one night, the squirrel fell.  My mother-in-law panicked when she awoke to see an empty towel.  Then, she walked into the bathroom and saw that Sadie had picked up the squirrel, carried it into the bathroom, and nuzzled it into a t-shirt to keep it warm.  There, Sadie remained licking it like her own baby.  I believe Sadie cared for that squirrel because we, humans, cared for the squirrel.  She treated it differently. 

Like I said, She is one-of-a-kind. 

Many people asked me this question when I was pregnant:

 "Are you worried about your dog with your son?"
(The underlying meaning: "Are you worried about your PITBULL with your son"?)

No.  I am not worried in the way that many people think I would be.  Am I worried that my dog will attack or bite my son?  No, never.  I do worry about Sadie around my son just like any animal around any child. I am worried about things like Sadie pawing him for attention or scratching his skin on accident.  I am worried Sadie will want to play and jump on him too roughly.  I believe I am cautious with my dog around my son like any parent should be about pets around their children.  It is smart to be aware and watch their interactions, no matter what bread of dog.  That's just being a safe guardian.   

From the start, Sadie was curious about Carson.  At first she would just sniff him and walk away, unsure about the crying baby taking up our attention.  Now that Carson knows Sadie, looks for Sadie, smiles and laughs when he sees Sadie, Sadie just soaks up all the attention. And these two have become quite lovely friends. 

Wherever Carson and I are playing, on the bed, on the floor, or eating in the kitchen, Sadie is right there ready to play.  Sadie has such a patient way with Carson.  Carson is at the age where he doesn't know that pulling an ear or poking an eye could hurt Sadie.  So he does it relentlessly.  He loves Sadie's wagging tale, her clinking dog tags, and floppy ears. And Sadie, loves his attention.  She just sits there while Carson is constantly crawling on her until she can steal a kiss and get him to laugh.  She will even sit right next to his crib when he is crying until I come and pick him up.

I could just watch them forever.  I love that the dog that has loved on us for so long can now love on our son.

I am not the woman that once had a narrow misunderstood view of a pit bull.  Now I am a mother who couldn't imagine another dog, or breed, that could be a more perfect fit for our family.