Big Boy

A warning to those of you who are new to our blog. At our old site, I would write about whatever was on my mind & for the most part, did not take into consideration who might read it. I figured if you were reading it, you wanted to know what I was thinking about, so I wasn't going to hold back. I'm ready to start writing again, so beware........

Max had his 4 month well-check today. He is now 14.6 lbs and 25 1/2" long. He has also started to laugh, which is just music to my ears.

I sometimes wonder what he will remember as he gets older. I try to think back to the things I remember from being a young kid and don't really have that many memories that I truly know happened (as opposed to stories I've heard told that I have associated with & maintained as my memories). I remember Dr. Block digging wax out of my ears and either telling me, or me thinking it was bugs he was pulling out of my ears. I remember sneaking out of my bedroom at night in KY and sitting behind the love-seat so I could watch a little more t.v. Then there are the permanent memories - like Mom's smell - a mixture of yelllow Dial soap, Oil of Olay and Shalamar. What will I smell like to Max? What will he remember? It's like the memories are in the walls and corners of this house, just waiting for the instance to happen to make them come alive.

We've had a rough couple of weeks - granted, it's nothing compared with the hell that many new parents are faced with, but it's been difficult for us. Just as we started to get a little used to a new balance in our lives, we all caught a stomach bug (in some form or another) and that served to really throw us off kilter. After a weekend of having to do everything for Max AND keep him occupied, I really had a new appreciation for single parents. In everything we do, I ask myself if I could do it alone if I had to. Not that I would want to, but could I if I absolutely had to. This weekend, I told myself "yes", but I also found myself getting burned out. By Monday I was glad to go to work. I was tired of being sick, tired of being tired, ready to take a vacation from myself and everyone else. It's hard to admit when you feel like that because there is this sense that you have to be superwoman. And admitting that you just don't want to do it for a little while makes you feel guilty because you are admitting that you don't want to put anyone else first other than yourself - and what kind of mother feels that way? A human one for sure.