Versus

The two women exchanged the kind of glance women use when no knife is handy.

Ellery Queen

Last Wednesday, I watched a Dr. Phil episode that really rubbed me the wrong way. Now, I know that this show is for entertainment purposes only: let's watch the drama unfold and then listen to everyone applause as Dr. Phil states the obvious. [ For instance- and I quote- "Life Law #1: You either get it or you don't. Strategy: Become one of those who gets it." Uh... Wow. Thank you, Dr. Phil. I don't know what I would have done without you.]

However, everything about this particular episode had my skin crawling. First of all, the title was ridiculous; on the website, it is titled "Guilty Moms" but, on the actual show, what flashed on the screen after every commercial break was "Stay-At-Home Moms vs. Working Moms." (They officially labeled the show otherwise because there has already been a show with this title and repetition would just be shameful.)

Verses? Really? Do we honestly need something else to pit women against each other? The operative word here should be MOMS and motherhood should be something that brings women together, not tears them apart.

Furthermore, any woman who had a balanced, sensible approach to the subject was given very little face time. Instead the show was dedicated to listening to unreasonable woman state unreasonable opinions and put down anyone who disagreed with them. The entire concept puts women in a bad light- Oh, here they go again: being petty and caddy and bitching at each other. We all know how woman are.

So, in general I found the show to be distasteful.. and on a personal level, it bothered me that the entire discussion seemed to be slanted in favor of working moms.

There was an audience debate in which the chosen stay-at-home mothers kept making polarizing comments that made them seem ignorant and stubborn and, in my opinion, did not accurately reflect the feelings of most stay-at-home moms. I think most women realize that motherhood is one of the most challenging things a woman can be faced with and, regardless of their various parenting philosophies, they want to be supportive of each other. Listening to these women criticize each other was painful. The stay-at-home moms also kept saying things like, "I am an educated woman," "Our lives aren't glamorous but we do it anyway," and, "I made this decision because I felt it was best for my family even though I COULD have gotten a job." These comments are basically conceding that this is somehow an inferior state of being for a woman. That by staying at home, you are sacrificing some part of yourself to do what is best for your kids. But if that is the case, I am not sure that mom would be doing her children a favor... because she would not be happy. And kids feel that kind of thing.

I am just going to take a moment to come out of the closet here: I... am domestic. In every way. Nothing makes me happier than cooking and cleaning and taking care of my family. I do not think I will ever find a job that fulfills me in this way. Sometimes, I watch old movies and I know I was born in the wrong era. It is just who I am. I will never feel like I am making a sacrifice. I will never feel like I have to defend my decision. It is my bliss.

I sometimes think some women that feel this way are afraid to say these sorts of things. So many women had to fight so hard for our rights. By admitting that you would be perfectly happy with a Hoover and a string of pearls- it can make you feel like a traitor. I took a Feminist Theory class a couple of semesters ago and I admitted these things to my professor in an attempt to make a point. She was an amazing teacher and I really enjoyed the class but her response was disturbing. She looked at me with pity, shook her head sadly, and told me I had been brainwashed by male society. There was no way I could just... want these things.

So these women on the show set themselves up to be martyrs. Which, in turn, forced them to label working moms as selfish. It was all very hurtful and unnecessary.

The next two segments were dedicated to talking to successful working mothers and helping a soon-to-be working mother get over her guilt of having to leave her child in someone else's care. Statistics about the superior cognitive development of kids in daycare were thrown about and stories of how working mothers have influenced their children in positive ways that stay-at-home moms can never hope to accomplish littered the rest of the show. However, this is silly because I don't think a woman is going to base her decision about whether or not to go back to work on any statistic [Oh, well, I was going to stay at home with little Timmy but.. studies show he would have better language skills, so off he goes.] Women make these decisions based on their desires, what they feel is best for their family, and on what they need to do to provide a stable, loving home for their children. The only purpose these studies have is to make a mother feel better about a decision she has already made, but at what cost? Making another women feel insecure?

Now...just to make things clear: I have absolutely NO problem with working moms. I was raised by an amazing one who showed me you can have everything you want out of life as long as you are willing to work for it and who balanced family and career in the most admirable way. In fact, she still looks at me in utter disbelief when I talk about not wanting to work outside the home. It is just such a foreign concept to her. When my propensity toward the domestic showed up (at a very early age), her immediate response was to figure out what sort of career that made me a good match for. Because of this, it took me until my third year of college to come to terms with the fact that I do not want a career at all. However, this is just who I am; I want to stay home with my family. Ryan and I are poor- but we are used to being poor and we live within our means. This will allow me to work part-time and since I am a nanny, I will be able to bring Liam with me to work. I feel so blessed to be able to do what I want to do with my life at this point. It is as much for me as for Liam... so maybe I am the selfish one!

I do not believe children are harmed in any way by not having a stay-at-home mom. I am a firm believer, as I have said NUMEROUS times, that as long as you are making decision based out of love for your child, you can do little harm. If your career is fulfilling and makes you happy, I believe that it should be pursued by all means... because you count too! And if you need to work to provide for your family then you should feel proud that you are able to give your child a stable home. As long as you are doing what you feel is best for you and what is best for your family, then you are doing the right thing. We have no business making judgements about other people's lives.

There are pros and cons to every decision we make. There is always a trade-off and you really cannot have it all. I just do not see why this has to be such a heated issue. Do we really need something else to get people at each other's throats? We are all just people.. doing the best that we can. How are we going to teach our children tolerance and acceptance of others when we are not being tolerate or accepting ourselves?

*Ahem* Getting off my soapbox now.

I would love to hear what you all have to say- in a tolerant, accepting manner, of course.

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Over It

Perseverance is the hard work you do after you get tired of doing the hard work you already did.
Newt Gingrich

So, I have to say.. I am feeling completely over being pregnant right now. But at the same time, I am not even remotely ready for a baby.

I sort of just want to hang my pregnancy up in the coat closet for a little while and walk away. Maybe I will have some dinner (consisting of massive quantities of sushi and salad with loads of feta), a nice glass of wine (or two.... or three), a good book, and a soak in an ultra-super hot jacuzzi... and then a romp in bed with my hubby wearing the lingerie I did not get nearly enough use out of (with the lights on).

The only problem is... it would be so hard to step back into my current body willingly.

It is really quite pathetic when you consider the fact that I have had a nearly symptom-free pregnancy up until.... I don't know.. LAST WEEK! Wow. I am a baby. One week of really bad heartburn and muscle pain and swollen feet and exhaustion and I am ready to throw in the towel. I seriously admire women who make it through nine months of a difficult pregnancy- especially those that do it all with a smile on their face. I need to meet you.. and be humbled... and take notes.

My stomach has been on strike the last couple of days. On Thursday night I had a dinner of about 72 chocolate cookies (I know, I know! But my mom made them- homemade and right out of the oven. I was weak!) and Hot Tamales (I have no excuses for this) and then on Friday, we had Arby's for lunch and pizza for dinner. I am generally a pretty wholesome eater so my body does not tolerate junk food very well if it is not balanced with the good stuff. So I've been on my best behavior ever since but it seems I really messed up and it is not going to forgive me so easily. Gah. I do not need to be adding to my own discomfort.

Whenever I mention that I am sort of tired of pregnancy, I am told reassuringly that it "won't be too much longer now." However, I have to admit that this is not really that comforting. Giving birth is not a walk in the park, and the discomfort does not end the minute the baby pops out... of your vagina... which is where his massive head will be squeezing through. Get the picture? There is a lot of healing you have to go through and, as all pregnant women are CONSTANTLY reminded of, your body will 'Never. Be. The. Same.'

Yeah, thanks for that upper.

On top of this, you then have a little, tiny, helpless being that is entirely your responsibility. And they just hand it to you and you have to take it home and keep it alive. I mean... shouldn't there be some sort of screening for this?! We went through a more rigorious process to aquire our DOG.

And then there is all the hormone fluctuations and the crying and the cracked nipples and the sleepless nights (either because the baby is getting up to eat.. or, if you are like me, you will be staring at him to make sure he is breathing).

The end of pregnancy is really just the beginning of something else, you know. It is almost as if people forget that.

I haven't.

Ah, well... I suppose I am just having a grumpy moment because I am currently BREATHING FIRE. And that lovely pain in my abdomen will not go away without Tylenol- which I know is safe but would prefer to avoid if possible. But it is either that or no sleep and I think the latter is more dangerous, especially considering how often I find myself driving long distances and my tendency to doze off at the wheel.

Good things really did happen this weekend and I have nothing to whine about. Last night, my lovely McKenzie drove up to visit me with her husband and brother. She is my sunshine. It was a lovely evening.


After they left, my baby brother drove up and spent the night. We went to church and then he treated me and Ryan to lunch at The Blue Plate because he is smooth like that. Then we treated him to coffee and dessert at Rembrandt's.


[As a side note- as I'm sure you can tell.. most of my pictures are not exactly current. The reason for this is that the computer on which our photo downloading software is located is not currently set up in the new house so.. once we get that done.. or get a new camera I will be including many more current photos of the happenings of our daily lifes. Hopefully it will be very, very, very soon. I miss it!]

After Ethan left and Ryan headed to the haunt, I made some fruit salad and shared a bit with our rats (yes, we have rats:: and yes, it's on purpose:: and yes, they make amazing pets:: and yes, we WILL be keeping them after the baby is born. Don't judge!).


I then cuddled up in bed (no, not with the rats) and watched the first disc of the second season of House, which Ryan had gotten for me on Netflix to keep me company while he is away.

It was really a pretty good weekend.
So... you know.. I shouldn't be moaning. Ignore me.
The end.

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The Godfather [Part I]

Let me think about it. We'll see.
Michael (from The Godfather)

I never had godparents growing up. My mother was raised Catholic and, after leaving the church, did not want anything to do with it again- including that harmless tradition. Ryan did not have godparents either; however, we decided that we would like to give someone that place in Liam's life.

There are many, many, many people in our lives that we would love to honor by giving them that title. Because there are so many we decided to narrow it down by creating some guidelines.

We want Liam's godparents to be close enough to be involved in his life on a regular and consistent basis and we would also like them to be in a situation that allows them to be someone special for him. In other words, we don't want it to just be a label given to someone too busy or too far away or too disinterested to really enjoy it.

We actually had not given much thought to the issue beyond, "Yes.. we would like Liam to have godparents," until a friend of ours brought it up and asked if he could be the godfather. We considered it for a few minutes and realized that he would be great for the job!

I have known Caleb for 8 years. He was 14 and I was 15 and he showed up at my house one day with another friend of mine and basically never left. He quickly developed a crush on me (in those days he fell for any girl that looked him in the eye) but I did not reciprocate. When he shared those feelings (over INSTANT MESSAGING, mind you) he did not appreciate my response: "but you are practically my brother!!" ... however, now I know he is glad that nothing ever came of it because our friendship has become one of the most important things in both of our lives.. and we would have lasted 3.5 seconds as a couple.

January::2004
New Year's Kiss!

January :: 2007
We Laugh.

January:: 2009
(The first person after Ryan and my Daddy to dance with me.)
Heh, heh- I look like a chicken!

When I first mentioned the cute boy I had been spending time with (who would later become my husband), Caleb was suspicious. In a twist of fate, he had moved to Chattanooga about a year before I had.. and so he felt very responsible for me as the the only person I really had nearby. As I breathlessly described my twitterpated state of mind over this boy who had swept me off my feet, Caleb crossed his arms in front of him and gruffly replied, "I don't like him." However, after meeting... they very quickly became close friends. The three of us could hang out for hours and it never felt like a couple and a third wheel or anything like that. We always have a great time together...and now Caleb and Ryan will even go on regular man-dates without me!

Caleb will be a great godfather. He is nearby. He is not married. He is someone we both trust and adore. He will have the time and energy to be involved consistently. We are perfectly comfortable with him in every way. And we know that he will love Liam.

We still are not sure about a godmother. Most women we know are married, have children of their own, and/or live very far away. We may end up not asking anyone.. but I do not think we have ruled it out just yet. To be perfectly honest, it really does not matter that much-there are going to be so many people in this kid's life to love on him [and probably spoil him dang rotten]. Between his Aunt Leslie and Uncle Ethan, his grandparents, his great-grandparents, numerous other extended family members, plus all of his adopted aunts and uncles--whew. But it was still nice to be able to bestow the title of The Godfather to Caleb- it pretty much made his life.

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Update

So... I just thought I would let you all know: I flunked my midterm- I flunked it hard. I do not think I have failed at anything as horribly as I failed at that test.

But you know what? I am feeling okay with that.

The minute it hit my desk I realized I had spent all my time focusing on the completely the wrong things and my worst fear- having absolutely no idea what I was doing- was about to come true. And so... I just filled in the very (very, very) few answers I knew, walked up to the teacher and said in my little mouse voice of shame, "Hi. Um.... so... I completely bombed this." And after looking at my pathetic attempt and asking where the second page was (there was no second page because I did not even get that far) he looked at me with compassion and said, "Okay. Take this home and work it out with your notes for some extra credit."

It was honestly, really, very, very embarrassing to hand him that paper- I don't fail tests. I get A's.... with a few B's scattered about just to balance me out a little bit. I am not necessarily used to working very hard for good grades but I am still used to getting them. I listen, take notes, do the homework and the learning just... sort of... happens. School has always been relatively easy for me. I am used to being in control of my grades and my time and my life and this entire situation is hard for me. Maybe I should see it as a learning experience.

I briefly considered just walking out the door and not looking back... but I didn't. I faced it- owned up to my failure and humiliation- and guess what? I am still breathing. And my teacher seems to be willing to work with me.

Maybe, just maybe, I will make it after all.

Oh.. and I do not think that I failed my other Latin midterm quite as hard- I am not sure how I did on the discussion question but I aced the translation and I am grateful for that.

It is over now. Regardless of the outcome... it is over. That is a relief.
Latin midterms: check.

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Days Like This

Sometimes you're the windshield and sometimes you're the bug.
Mark Knopfler

The last couple of days have been nothing short of miserable.
On Tuesday, I came millimeters away from dropping out of school and, in fact, have yet to make a decision about whether or not I will stick with it. However, after 5+ years toward a degree, dropping out 2 months before the end seems absolutely crazy...

I have two midterms in Latin today. Because of all the craziness surrounding the move I got very behind in my Latin studies. Though I have been working hard ever since that time, language is so cumulative- you can't really make up for time lost. Failing a midterm is basically sealing your fate. I learned this my sophomore year after misreading the time of a final and showing up 30 second AFTER it was over. My professor turned a deaf ears to my pleas for mercy and, although I had a B in the course up until that point, that one F caused me to flunk the entire class. It is the only F I have ever gotten in my entire life on anything besides a 6th grade math test. And it sucked.

I can't remember a time any longer when my life was not hectic. It has been at least a year and a half. Things have settled down for a brief period.. but they are really only going to get worse from here. We start our Prepared Childbirth Classes next month and we have less than three to get ready for Liam. His nursery is a complete mess and we have very little of anything we actually need for him. The house is also still not in working order; things - BIG THINGS- have to be done before the baby gets here because, otherwise, they just will not get done at all. Or they will be done poorly. I have a 20 page senior seminar paper that will be due near the end of the semester in which I basically have to prove I am ready to graduate and which I cannot settle on a topic for. I also have to create an online portfolio of my entire college career- a nearly impossible task considering the scattering of my education. I will also have 3 finals- plus any normal assignment that comes up. On top of this the commute alone takes 8 hours (and two entire days when I stay with my parents) out of my week.

The problem is.. this is not an "if at first you don't succeed" situation. I pretty much have one shot to get it right or my academic transcripts are marred forever. If I were to withdraw and return later- I would have a much better chance of succeeding and I would not have to worry about making up for failing grades. But I just can't bring myself to give up either.

On top of this, the stress is considerably overwhelming. I have been in similar situations before and, besides a fair amount of whining, I handled it with no problem. I have worked full-time while going to school full-time and trying to plan a wedding. I have been making the trek back and forth between Kennesaw and Chattanooga for two years. But being pregnant makes everything more difficult. Waking up, getting out of bed, focusing on school, just moving my large body from place to place is a challenge... even the drive is uncomfortable.

I got about 4 hours of sleep Tuesday night; between worrying about what to do and this strange pain that has made its way into my abdominal muscles, I was tossing and turning. I spent the ENTIRE DAY cramming for these tests and I figured last night, I would pass out with no problem. I was nodding off against the cart at Wal-mart, waiting for Ryan to pick out the type of hot dogs he wanted (although to my credit, it took the man 7 full minutes to decide- I mean.. seriously?!). But that was not to be- after crawling into bed at 11 p.m., I woke up clutching my stomach in pain. I am guessing that my abdominal muscles are seperating... it is the only thing that makes sense. I went to look at the clock, praying that it would be almost time for me to get up anyway because I knew I was not getting back to sleep and when I saw that is was only 1 a.m.- I pretty much broke down. Then I found myself boiling water in an attempt to get a bath warm enough to tolerate (our water pressure at the house is horrible and lukewarm at best). When that did not help, I tried a warm washcloth and finally at 2:30 a.m. made my way to the drugstore for some Tylenol and heatwraps. They seemed to work somewhat and I finally nodded off around 4 a.m.- waking two or threee more times to pee before the alarm clock started blaring at 7 a.m.

When I get to work this morning- I find out that my boss had told me the days of their vacation wrong and I could have had the day off (which would have been wonderful because I really need more time to study for my tests) but "since I was here anyway"... I get to hang out with all four kids while they run errands and stuff, which would be nice except it hurts to move and I am exhausted and I really, really, really need to study.

I am feeling very squished at the moment- definitely the bug running headfirst into the windshield. I am not entirely sure how to handle it all. Ryan is worried about the baby- he has been the one encouraging me to stay in school (along with my parents) and all of the sudden he is whistling a different tune after looking up what stress can do during development. Considering Liam is already small, I have to admit I am a little concerned as well.

My mother went crazy for a minute Tuesday night and told me she thought I should quit too.. but then sent me a text the next morning begging me not to.

It is a lot to figure out and I do not have a lot of time to do it in.
And... I am being beckoned to go play monkey in the middle.

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Retrospection

Remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.
Epicuris

While this has absolutely nothing to do with the rest of this post... I have to mention that my little bug turned one yesterday! One!

It seems impossible: impossible that he has been on the planet for an entire year and just as impossible that he has only been here for a single year. He has been both a holy terror and the greatest joy and he has taught me oh, so very much.

He is currently sitting next to me in his high chair having a very deep and meaningful conversation with his Cheerios. He picks each up one at a time, inspects them thoroughly, and gives them an individual pep talk that is something along the lines of, "AH! Daaaaaaaaaa! Bo-bo. Ba. Da. Ah. Ba. Ohhhhhs!" before consuming them with gusto. Every time I look at him (which is just about every three seconds because he is so dang cute) he gives me his adorable cheeky grin and giggles. He is pretty much pure trouble and I am completely convinced he is an evil genius who is harboring horrible plans for world domination in that chubby little head and is busy turning us all into his minions.... but I will gladly be his minion if he keeps smiling at me like that and giving me cuddles. (Though he is more than welcome to stop scaring the crap out of me by learning things like HOW TO CRAWL UP THE STAIRS!)

Like I said, that is not at all what this post is about....but it must be mentioned: Happy Birthday, my little man!

Moving On. [This is long- but it is more for me than you.. so get over it. ;)]

I think I may have mentioned once or twice that this pregnancy was unplanned. I mean completely... and totally... %100 unplanned. In fact, I think the term "unplanned" is not actually very accurate because we were planning.... on not having kids for a good two or three years. And we thought that we were doing the things people do when they are planning on not having kids.

Ryan and I were married in January of this year- yeah, this one... right here. 2009. He proposed in June (in the most wonderful way that you will just have to ask me about sometime because I love to tell that story) and we had a pretty short engagement due to circumstances beyond our control. We weren't even living in the same state and we were both leading crazy lives: I was working 40 hours a week and going to school full-time in Georgia and he was working two jobs in Tennessee. We saw each on weekends.. if we were lucky. Our wedding was mostly planned by my mother and I learned a good lesson in just letting things go. While it was basically the opposite of anything I would ever plan for myself, it turned out nicely and I believe people had a good time. That was all Ryan and I really wanted: a big party with all of our friends to celebrate this great thing.

Most people probably don't start their baby story with their wedding story but considering Liam was conceived less than three months after our wedding day- it seemed appropriate.

After being on birth control for about six months, (three before we were married and three after) I just could not do it anymore. Ryan and I decided we would go with something that did not screw with my hormones quite so much. So after I finished my last pack, I did not get the prescription refilled.

And here is where it gets fun, folks: [Ahem] I took my last birth control pill on April 1st and Liam was conceived on April 4th.
Yeah. Really. Of course, we did not know that.

[Now the next bit of this post may be a bit TMI but you have that fool-proof little X in the upper right hand corner of your screen... so use liberally if you are uncomfortable.]

For the month of April our preferred method of birth control was condoms. On April 17th, I got my period and all was well (or so we thought). However, in addition to having sensitive hormones, I am also blessed with a sensitive vagina- it not only disapproved of latex condoms but also of any alternatives (we are now the proud owners of an entire drawer of completely useless contraceptive of various brands). So in May I asked Ryan if he would be comfortable with charting instead. He agreed with only mild hesitation. We figured that, coupled with pulling out, it probably was not that risky.

In early June I began to become increasingly aware of pregnant women and babies- they were EVERYWHERE. They were stalking me. Facebook was sending me ads asking me if I was pregnant. Wal-mart wanted to know if I needed coupons on diapers. I was having dreams about babies and it was all very weird.

One weekend morning, Ryan and I went to brunch. I waited 20 minutes for them to bring out a fresh pot of my favorite Hazelnut coffee. I glanced at the coffee bar every three minutes, knees shaking in anticipation. When it came...I got my cup, fixed it up, smiled contentedly, took one sip... and my stomach turned. There was nothing wrong with the coffee. I just could not stomach it. I poured the rest out sadly and Ryan joked, "You need to take a pregnancy test." I happened to have one at home so, when we got there, I laughed about feeling like the world was impregnating me and went to pee on the stick just to settle my mind.

You know how it says to wait three minutes to read your results on those things? Yeah. Try three seconds! It immediately turned positive and I screamed at the top of my lungs for Ryan. He choked out a response... knowing I would not be yelling for him under normal circumstances. I walked to the top of the steps. We stared at each other: I was as white as death and he was as red as a tomato. I laughed. Then I swallowed. Then I stumbled down the stairs. Then I stared. Then I started sobbing. I showed Ryan the test. He hugged me. I snotted all over his shirt. He smiled. I kept apologizing for ruining our lives. He kept telling me I had nothing to apologize for. This cycle repeated itself for a good two hours.

When I finally calmed down I realized... there was NO WAY this test was correct. I needed to take at least two more before I freaked out. Over the course of a week, I ended up taking six: every single one was positive. Positive. Positive. Positive. Yet, because I had no symptoms- beyond that one little, tiny coffee incident- I somehow convinced myself that there was something else going on. I thought maybe I had been pregnant but miscarried very early and the hormones were still working their way out of my system... or maybe the bladder infection I was also suffering from somehow screwed with the results of the test. ANYTHING besides an actual human being growing inside of me. So I went to AAA Women's Services- their medical level pregnancy test.... was positive. The nurse on staff laughed at my denial and made me promise to go to the doctor. So, we made the appointment.

I will spare you the details of that first office visit- what with the paperwork and the "when was the date of your last menstrual cycle?" (to which I answered April 17th with a fair amount of confidence) and the peeing in the cup and whatnot. But it ended with a wand shoved up my vagina and a picture on the screen that looked like this:

Except.. you know.. moving and alive... and MOST DEFINITELY A BABY!

And the doctor says, "Well, you are a little bit farther along than you think you are." Because that period I had in April was apparently no such thing.. so we somehow got pregnant while using condoms and all the anxiety over whether or not we were charting right was for nothing. And the first thing I think is, "Oh, shit." Which is not a really pretty thing to think when you are looking at your very first child for the very first time.. but I thought it anyway because Ryan and I went to Atlanta for a weekend once and I drank... and finals were in May and I lived in coffee shops and sometimes had upwards of 5 cups of coffee a day and I freaking LOVED the heck out of some sushi! And all these things are running through my head at high speed until the doctor says, "And everything looks great!"

Then I could breathe.. but only for a second and then it hit me: THAT IS AN ACTUAL BABY!

And Ryan had to lead me out of the doctor's office because I was pretty much a zombie... except when I would catch Ryan's eye and we would giggle... or i would look down at the picture in my hand and giggle.. or just giggle into space for no apparent reason. We kept the news to ourselves for almost a month and that was a very interesting and special time. We knew that once the news was out it would not be our secret any longer so we just enjoyed it.

Since then, I think we have gone back and forth about how we actually feel. There are days when it feels totally okay and days of hyperventilation. Sometimes fear just grips my heart because I know that I am not at all ready to be responsible for another human being and I know that if anything happens to him ever I will never be the same again and how can I handle that right now? Or ever, for that matter?!

However, I know that not only is this baby going to add something to our lives that we did not even know was missing.. but he is really going to make it better in so many ways. There have been numerous occasions when we realized that if we were not going to be having Liam Eliot right now, we would be missing out on something pretty amazing. Not just Liam himself... but other things in our lives that have been a direct result of his existence.

It is definitely going to be hard. And we are definitely still having our OH MY GOD! ARE YOU F*CKING SERIOUS?! moments. And I don't know that we will ever not have those moments. Even when Liam is 38 years old.

We were not even remotely prepared... but, you know, Ryan and I tend to need gentle nudging (or forceful shoving) to get us moving in any one direction most of the time. Just because it was not our timing.. doesn't mean it was not the right timing. And maybe there is never a right time- maybe this is just how life goes. You get thrown into the middle of something and it's sink or swim.

Better start paddling!

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Facio What?!

This is what I am doing:


And this is how I feel about it:



The end.

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