My Photographic Tendencies...

Connor, age 2

Some people look at a canvas and can create an amazing image on it...  Some people look at clay or stone or some other moldable material, and can create stunning figures...  So many people in this world can create something from nothing.  Beautifully.  Me?  That's not how my artistic self flows.  I don't ever feel like I can create something from nothing.  Kids, maybe.  But not art.  Give me a cartoon, and I can recreate it.  Give me a pattern - cross stitch, crochet, drawing - and I can make it.  But don't ask me to actually make the cartoon or the pattern.  I go completely blank.

Connor, age 5

But send me outside, or in a group setting, or anywhere, and I can just see things framed in a photograph. A pretty good photograph.  Or at least, I like to think so.  I'm getting closer to the point where I'm ready to take a gigantic ego risk - I feel like my shots come from a piece of my heart sometimes - and call myself, in word and deed, a professional photographer.  Maybe.  So, here are some of what I consider my highlights - you may be able to figure out my favorite subjects...  :)

At my husband's
Baptismal Mass

Casey, age 4 months

Casey grabbing my finger,
age 3 weeks

Casey, age 7 months

Casey, age 3 weeks

Connor and Tim in Miami, 2008

A friend's gorgeous son

Connor playing T-ball,
age 6

Connor in the snow, age 6

I've Been Re-Named

I waited a long time to hear my son call me "Mommy". I kept chanting "Ma-ma-ma-ma-ma" at him when he was a baby, hoping he would say it, on purpose, to me. Didn't matter - his first word was, of all things, "ball". Go figure. But he did eventually start calling me "Mommy". Incessantly. You know, like that now famous clip of Stewie from Family Guy. And I loved it. I was MOMMY!

As many of you may know, Connor turned 7 in September. He started 2nd Grade this year. And he started calling me "Mom". Not all the time, but there it is. I am loosing the all-powerful, omniscient persona of "Mommy", and becoming the more flawed "Mom" (and, let's face it, ladies... "Mom" is just plain stupider than "Mommy" ever was). And my firstborn, my baby boy, is growing up. /sigh

I Remember...

The alarm went off - it was set to the radio. A man was talking about something weird. Some plane hitting the World Trade Center... must be one of those War of the Worlds things. I hit the snooze button and rolled over. 9 minutes later, the same man was still talking about the "tragic accident". It sinks in. I get up, shake Tim awake while I'm turning on the TV. "Honey, something's wrong in New York City... a plane crashed or something, get up." I'm not a news watcher - I don't like hearing about all the tragedy that happens in the world every day. But I just knew this was... bigger. I knew something was wrong. I didn't have to channel surf. It was on all of them. We were watching for less than 3 minutes when the 2nd plane hit the South Tower. That's when it dawned on the general public what had been known for less than 20 minutes by the FAA and the Air Force. These were not accidents. They were attacks. And they were only half the story.

Tim had recently moved to Maryland. He was interviewing around the DC area for a job. I had an inkling of the repercussions this attack would have. After I had regained my speech, blinked away the first tears and dropped my hands from my mouth to my lap, I took his hand and told him he was going to take the first job offered him. When I couldn't wrap my mind around the unthinkable, self preservation took over. But not for long. Another plane hits the Pentagon. It was like a bad movie unfolding in real time. The South Tower collapses... the heroic souls aboard flight 93 sacrifice their lives to prevent the possible deaths of hundreds more... the North Tower collapses... In one hour and 37 minutes, our lives are forever changed. All of our lives. Some more than others. But irrevocably changed.

My father's machine shop was located off Route 4 in New Jersey, 20 minutes outside of NYC. They could see the smoke from the parking lot. Route 4 turned into a parking lot. Emergency vehicles raced into the city, waiting for... nothing. No one above the impact of the planes survived. When I asked my brother, later, what the city looked like, he said, "It looks like NYC got her two front teeth knocked out."

I have a student that was compelled to travel to NYC that morning to help in any way he could. He made it pretty far up the NJ Turnpike before he had to park his car and walk. Over 30 miles, as I recall. He worked for days in the city, looking. For anyone. He said he is forever changed - altered - by what he saw there. I will spare you the details. Part of me wishes I could forget them, myself.

Why am I going through the details of that day? Why do I feel it necessary to remember, as vividly as I can, every year? Because our memories are short. Time moves on - I've gotten married and had two wonderful children in the past ten years - and the normality of our lives reasserts itself. We try to push horrific memories to the back of our minds. It is our nature as human beings to try to forget. But this event... we cannot.

My heart breaks for the 2,998 people that were killed that day. For the families that lost integral parts that day. Mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, husbands, wives, sisters and brothers... Gone. We must never forget them.

There are crazy people in this world. People who are jealous of the freedom we, as Americans, enjoy. Revel in. And take for granted. People who think we are arrogant. Too full of pride. And they want to take it away from us. They failed. If we remember... they will never succeed.

As I sit here looking at the beautiful and precious life that is my 8 month old daughter, and listen to my 7 year old son playing cheerfully outside, I send a prayer to all the families effected by 9/11. I pray for the ones that are safe in God's hands, and for the ones that were left behind. I pray for and thank God every day for the men and women who put themselves in harms way for me and mine, so that I can continue to revel in the privilege and honor of being American. Fire fighters, police officers, paramedics, soldiers... you all have my eternal gratitude. THANK YOU for keeping my babies safe. I will always remember...

"A great people has been moved to defend a great nation. Terrorist attacks can shake the foundations of our biggest buildings, but they cannot touch the foundation of America. These acts shattered steel, but they cannot dent the steel of American resolve. America was targeted for attack because we're the brightest beacon for freedom and opportunity in the world. And no one will keep that light from shining. Today, our nation saw evil, the very worst of human nature. And we responded with the best of America — with the daring of our rescue workers, with the caring for strangers and neighbors who came to give blood and help in any way they could." ~President George W. Bush, September 11, 2001

Life Marches On...

The biggest news in my life at the moment is that we are finally expecting baby #2! It's been a long time coming, for many different reasons. But the new addition should be here by Christmas Eve. And feeling this little life squirming inside my belly makes me remember being preggo with Connor, and how much I both loved and hated it.

We'll start with the "loved" part. The thing I love the most about being pregnant is feeling the life growing inside of you. This time around, I was majorly impatient to finally feel movement - which I did, around 16 weeks or so, because this time I knew what I was feeling. I loved dreaming of my baby, and what he would look like... what he would sound like... I couldn't wait to meet him. I loved the extra bond that my husband and I suddenly shared. And I loved that I was finally going to be part of the "club."

The rest? I hated it. I had Connor in September, so I was hot, swollen, tired and perpetually uncomfortable. I'm a stomach sleeper, so once I couldn't do that, anymore, sleeping became almost impossible. Even if I didn't have to get up every 5 minutes to pee. Needless to say, I was not a very good pregnant person.

I vowed that would be different this time. Silly me, I always forget that God has a sense of humor! Although I had a very boring pregnancy with Connor - no morning sickness, no constipation, no excess gas, no heartburn to speak of, etc. - I am having quite an exciting one with this Peanut. I have had all of the above at varying degrees. Yes, God is testing my resolve to be a good pregnant person. But I'm still trying! I'm pretty darn sure this is our last hurrah (my husband is 150% sure), so I want to enjoy it. I try not to be impatient, irritated, moody... but it's all in the hormones, I think. But I am enjoying the whole pregnancy experience more, I think.

We get to find out the sex in 2 weeks, something I didn't want to do the first time until my husband convinced me. I'm glad we did, and I'm excited about doing it this time. More decorating and buying! =D There's so much to look forward to, and in all the determinedness not to rush, it's starting to seem like it's flying by. December will be here before I know it, and so will our new bundle of joy. So, stay tuned.... it's bound to be an exciting ride...

Silliness

In the world today, out in public, what are the two most controversial subjects you can touch upon? The ones that normally incite all sorts of rage and horrible behavior? You got it - politics and religion. Now, I am a raging conservative and practicing Catholic - not that those two necessarily go hand-in-hand - and proud of it. I believe in God, country and family, and that you should take care of your own. I believe we live in the greatest country in the world, and if you have issues with it, you should work for change, move or shut up. I believe that actually working for a living is not optional, and that stay-at-homes Mom's (a HUGE job, by the way) are a gift from God. Although I believe that women are equal in every way to men, I would never call myself a "feminist". I believe that Dr. Laura has it right when she calls N.O.W. the National Organization of I-don't-know-what-kind-of-Women. I have such an immense respect for my military men and women that their dedication and sacrifices for my freedom and yours brings a tear to my eye. I believe that God is my guide in this world He created. I believe he has a hand in all that happens to us. I believe He can be anyone's savior - if He is allowed. I could go on forever. Yes, I am a raging conservative.

I just as strongly believe in one of the founding beliefs of our country - freedom of speech. Do I think some people should refrain from speaking so as not to showcase their lack of IQ for the world to see? Of course! Don't we all? Isn't that the beauty of this country, though? That we can speak what we believe, no matter our race, creed, color or gender? I do not begrudge anyone their ideas and beliefs, regardless of whether or not I agree. I have had many wonderful, insightful and stimulating conversations with people on the opposite side of my fence. But I never get angry. Because there is no point to it. Anger should be reserved true injustices, not for people who simply think differently.

What is not okay is this silliness that goes on in our government, news and even everyday life. Mudslinging at any level is classless and tasteless. It makes the person slinging look bad, not the opposition. Getting in someones face and yelling solves nothing. Looking like a raving lunatic solves nothing. And if you look around... there is no party, organization or religion that is guiltless of those types of actions. And it's asinine.

Passion for what you believe in is a wonderful thing. But be careful you don't cross the line into the silliness that is so prevalent these days. If your argument truly has meat, you wouldn't have to resort to Kindergarten tactics. My Kindergartner crosses his arms, stomps his feet, pouts and yells when he doesn't get his way. At which point, by the way, my conservative self tells him to take his attitude to his room, because it's not acceptable in public. And, guess what? It doesn't happen very often. So, if you're going to act like a Kindergartner, maybe you should be treated like one. I think that many of our leaders would do well with some time in their rooms, or perhaps a spanking or two. Actually, scratch that last idea... some of them might like it too much.

The point? I really don't care what you believe. I care whether or not you're a decent human being, and whether or not you treat the people around you - ALL OF THEM, kids, adults, elderly, from trash collectors to CEO's - with dignity and respect. If you discover that my beliefs differ from yours, you are more than welcome to have an intelligent, grown-up conversation with me about them. I will not call your beliefs and ideas stupid, and I expect the same respect in return. The minute those guidelines are deviated from... our conversation would be over. And I strongly encourage everyone to adopt the same attitude. It's much more effective than the alternatives.

It Starts...

So, I blogged a while ago about my struggles with my weight, and my internal efforts to fix ma-self. Along with some external things to help. Well, here's an update.

The short of it? I've lost 17 pounds in the past 2 months! Woot! I have pants that aren't fitting anymore (even though I wear them anyway, 'cause it makes me grin when I have to pull them up. So what if I have droopy drawers for a while?). And, more importantly, I have pants that are fitting again! I've lost an overall 5+ inches. I just wish that more of the 5 had been in my boobs, but oh, well... I guess that will follow. Or, at least, I hope it will. As a typical example of "the grass is always greener", I wish my boobs were smaller. My husband does not share my opinion, shockingly enough.

Anyway... all this is because of an amazing woman I met in December, at a random direct marketing event. You know the type - a home party thingy, but this one had 5 or 6 distributors. (My favorite was the chocolate lady!) So, this lady is a nutritionist and personal trainer, and she came up with an amazing program that doesn't just focus on one or 2 aspects of health, but ALL of them. I'd tell you more, but the program is in it's pilot state, and I promised I wouldn't let the cat out of the bag. What I will tell you is that this is like nothing I have ever done. I have an understanding of myself and my body and it's needs that I've never had before. For the first time in my recent memory... I know to the core of my being that this is no longer a big deal, and I can do this.

So, by this summer, I should be able to go to the pool with my kiddo without feeling so self-conscious! Yay! Stay tuned... I might even give you my weight one of these days. Well, ok... maybe not. :) But I will eventually give you pictures, and you can feel free to guess at it. ;)

My Kid's Having Surgery... AGAIN

In March of this year, Connor had to have his ears tubed because he had enough fluid built up in them that he was not hearing well. We tried a few times with medication to get the fluid to drain, but, alas, it didn't work. So, surgery it was. And it will be surgery, again, next week, but let me give you a little background and a little advice, if you have a kiddo that needs minor surgery (God forbid).

~ He got his first ear infection when he was 4 months old.
~ He's had 2-4 ear infections (usually in both ears) every winter since birth.
~ He is ALWAYS congested in the winter time.
~ This junk has also caused a couple of sinus infections. Joy.
~ He got a "borderline" score on his hearing at his 4-year-old check up. Which, by the way, the pediatrician didn't tell me about because his hearing was "still within normal limits". I was a wee bit peeved when I discovered that.
~ He failed the hearing test at his Preschool in the fall of '08. Well, failed one ear, another borderline score on the other.
~ He got the surgery (after some attempts at ear drops and medication) in March of '09.
~ Sometime between then and now, he had a growth spurt, and forced the tubes out of position, thus allowing fluid to come back into his ears, get backed up, stuff him up, and cause yet another double ear infection. Yay.
~ This time, surgery will involve not only replacing the tubes, but also removing his adenoids. Oh, and it has to be done before he gets on a plane for Miami on the 23rd. Planes are bad for fluid filled ears. :::sigh:::

As far as surgery goes, it was definitely harder on me than on Connor. I was a wreck. Ask my Mom, she'll tell you! But, in the end, it was truly not a big deal. We have a fabulous ENT, the surgery center was nice, and the anesthesiologist was a rock star. Connor loved him, and so did I. I hope he's the one to do the next surgery!

The day was pretty easy... show up at 6:30am (ugh!), surgery at 7:30. Connor got some Tylenol with Codeine to start the day (ain't that great on an empty stomach!), and that's when we met the anesthesiologist. He had us all giggling, and Connor at ease. Told my kiddo he was going to get to go into a room like a spaceship, with all sorts of cool machines, and that he was even going to get to wear a "space mask". That would be the gas mask. :) Connor was actually cheering and excited to go into the OR. Like I said... the man was a rock star.

Despite the fact that I had about a dozen people tell me not to be the one to go into the OR with Connor and hold him while he was gassed (something I really wish I could do at home, sometimes!), I always prefer to know what's going on. Remember, I am the chick that insisted on witnessing her own knee surgery. So, I feel better seeing it, and I stand by that, still. If Tim will let me, I'll be the one to go in, again. So, turns out he didn't really like the "space mask". It "smell[ed] yucky, Mommy!" He struggled, but the resident rock star said that was actually better - they breathe more heavily when they struggle, therefor inhale more of the gas faster and get knocked right out. As was the case with Connor. And, as I was holding him, I did catch a whiff of the gas, and he was totally right. The stuff was really stinky.

The surgery took maybe 20 minutes. And another 20 minutes or so after that, we got to go in to see him wake up and have a popsicle. Boy, he loved having that for breakfast! He was a little punchy for an hour or so, but by lunchtime, it was like nothing had even happened. Now, the Doc tells me that this time, with taking out his adenoids, the recovery time will be longer - 24 hours or so. But still, not too bad. And at least this time I know what I'm dealing with.

So, anyway, a week from Friday, we will be going round the roller coaster once again. For any of you that might have a kid and you're wondering what the signs are of this joyous problem, I assure you - your kid, like mine, may not exhibit the "typical" signs of ear issues. Here's a list of what didn't occur with my son:

~ Complaining of ear pain. Not even once. Not a peep, even when the doc said he should be screaming.
~ Tugging at his ears. Again, no. Your ears get irritated when they're infected, thus the tugging. It's almost like trying to scratch an itch. But, not a single tug that I ever caught from my kiddo.
~ Poking into his ears. Again, like trying to scratch an itch. And, nope. No poking, here.
~ Fever. Only a couple of times out of about 15-20 thus far. He must take after my grandfather. The man would walk around with strep and zero throat pain. Anomalies, the both of them.
~ A change in behavior/attitude. Nope. Almost always his usual, chipper self. The exceptions? The couple of times he did actually spike a fever.

What did occur? Major congestion, hearing loss (from the fluid), and a cough. Sounds like a head cold, doesn't it? That's what I thought for the first year of his life. Then, I got into the habit of bringing him in to the doc if he was stuffed up for more than a few days, because I just knew it would turn into an infection.

So, I hope modern technology will come to the rescue on the second attempt, and rid my kid of these nasty problems. Keep your fingers crossed, and I'll update you as soon as it's over and we're safely in Miami. Which, I'm sure, will give me yet another story to tell. :)

Merry Christmas!