in the wrong

A couple of days ago the detective covering my case of "hit and run" called to follow up with me.  He asked me a few questions about the incident from Saturday night where one of my neighbors went bonkers on me after hitting my bike with her car...

At the end he asked if I wanted to pursue pressing charges against the woman.  I paused momentarily and then answered "no". 

I just couldn't picture myself having to deal with going to court and facing her again - and then her coming to the realization that her front door and my front door are less than 100 yards from each other.

No, no thank you.

I think it was good enough (for me) to hear the detective say that she was completely in the wrong, that was edification enough for me. 

But even so, I have decided to look into self defense classes.  Because you KNOW the person in question is still at large.

fish heads

I took today off of work today.  I just needed to spend a day with the baby and my husband.  I didn't get much accomplished around the house at all, but that's okay.  I got to snuggle Henry ALL DAY - uninterrupted. We also figured out some stuff for Christmas for the kids...AND we went out to dinner - Chinese! 

Last but not least, my husband made me look up a song on You Tube, which is now stuck in my head.

So being the good samaritan that I am, I am passing along the favor...enjoy!

by our love

This song moves me every time I hear it, and sing it in church.  This is the song that was sung at Henry's baptism in June.  Whenever I hear it I feel wrung dry and thirsty for love to fill my barren heart.  When I hear it I realize how empty I am inside, and how much I need God.  I don't know why I always turn away, maybe it is my own self inflicted punishment, when all I need to do is reach out my hand.  I am often too afraid, or bitter.  This song reminds me that I CAN have something more...I just need to believe with all my heart that He is already there.  That I don't have to be empty.  That I don't have to walk the dessert for 40 years.  It's all head knowledge, and I need it to be heart knowledge as well.

17-hour mama

I originally wanted to breast feed my baby until he was a year old.  As time is wearing on, and work interferes, I am realizing that I have needed to adjust that goal a bit. 

 Granted, I have nursed my son longer than I have my last two children.  With my first baby I nursed for about 6 months, until he developed teeth and I decided that breastfeeding wasn’t suppose to be a dangerous experience.

 With Henry though, my work schedule has really interrupted the process.  I only breastfeed him once in the morning (if I am lucky) and a couple of times in the evening before he goes to bed; it is working out okay so far...sort of.  But I really notice the difference in my “production” when the weekend rolls around.

 At first, when I went back to work, I could nurse him exclusively on the weekends.  It was nice; it was “our” time.  But now that the routine of things has started to cement, I am finding that I am not producing enough to sustain him throughout the entire weekend so I have to supplement with formula.

I do have a breast pump, and I use it during the day at work - but I have always found the process painful and now that work is picking up, I don't always find the time to get away from my desk. 

I definitely have mixed emotions about this transition of my breast milk decreasing. I am glad that it doesn't hurt as much during the day, but on the other hand  I feel like I am becoming more and more obsolete as I spend less and less time with the baby due to work and social schedules.  This isn’t the way I had hoped it would turn out.

I suppose in my ideal world I would have had the opportunity to stay home for a year (or two) while my husband went back to a fabulous job that covered our insurance and living expenses.  But that didn’t happen. 

Instead, I went back to work.  I say “good-bye” to my baby every morning.  I spend 2 or 3 hours with him in the evening every day, and spend my weekend running errands, and trying to be everything to everyone in the 48 hours that I am allotted before I start the work cycle all over again.

I just realized that on a good week I spend 35 (waking) hours with my baby.  And that is if I devote every single one of those minutes I have to him.  Which I don’t; I can’t.  I have 3 other children, a husband, 2 stupid cats, church, friends, grocery shopping, and a pile of laundry.  So the time I have with my infant son is probably closer to 17 hours per week – and I think even that is being generous.

I often wonder if I should even bother.  Or worse, would it even matter if I ever came home?  I’m a 17 hour a week mother to that little life, and because of it my milk production is waning...what I am to him is fading away, transforming into a blip on the radar screen of his day.  If people can’t get why I am sad most of the time…there is my answer.

Yes, I know the other side of it is that I should be grateful that I have him.  I AM.  Believe me I am.  With all of my heart I am grateful beyond words.  Is it so wrong to want to be more a part of his day than I am?  I dont' think so.  I think that any woman who calls herself a "mother" wants to be with her children more than she is able.  I'm just trying to reconcile it, that's all.  I'm trying to see the fine print where it says that it is all going to be okay, and a 17-hour mama is better than none at all.

Christmas Shopping - CHECK!

Thanks to Anne - and her awesome tip for Restaurant.com - I am completely done with my Christmas shopping for friends, family, and co-workers.  Wow!  What relief...now I can focus on the kids and my husband.  I think I can shop like this every year! 

Oh, and I definitely got some gift certificates for Caleb and I...I'm looking forward to trying out The Melting Pot...yum fondue!!