frog pillow

Okay so I am trying to teach myself how to sew. My mom sent me some of her scrap fabric and an old pattern for animal pillows. It took me ALL DAY to sew this frog but I did it and to my amazement it turned out right! I didn't have any pillow stuffing around so I just stuffed it with newspaper being that it was just a practice thing anyway. Taison loves his new frog and I feel like I am one step closer to sewing my own garments! YAY!

And this is me SOOOOOOOO happy that my frog turned out LOL

Have a great night!

A good day!

Today was a good day. Woke up at 8am and went to my annual gyno appt. I love my doc and we had a great talk about breastfeeding. He said I am in perfect health and that I am O.K. to get pregnant again whenever I am ready. WOOHOO! Then came home and took a nap with my little man. We got up and I worked out to the 1st vid on Jillian Michaels 30 day shred(I almost died...it was awesome!). Then we packed up and went swimming with hubby at the HUGE indoor pool here for the 1st time. Taison loved it and threw a MAJOR tantrum when it was time to leave. Now we are home, showered, warm, and hanging out until bedtime.

Thursday, January 22, 2009 naptime experience

Calm, quiet, listening to the heated air blow through the vents in the hall, sun splashed onto my walls in the wild geometric shapes of the blinds or reflections of CDs strewn about. I can see runners outside leisurely jogging down the road toward the trails, snuggled up in their PT-gear sweatsuits or decked out in expensive winter jogging attire, soaking in what is left of the afternoon sun. Kids playing across the street on the old wooden playground equipment. Swinging on swings that I know from experience creak, their mothers huddled together discussing when and where the next big sale will be. Eating homemade meatball soup that is so hot it almost burns the tongue with chunks of toasted, crusty, oatmeal bread dipped into the perimeter of my bowl that soaks up the tomato and beef broth. What seems like millions of tiny fingerprints and smudges line the lower 2/3rd's of the screen door. Autographed by a toddler. Silence except for the tap-tapping of the keys and space bar on the keyboard as Taison...is taking a nap.

From the book Mothers Need Time-outs Too

What gives you goosebumps? Certain musical moments give me goosebumps e.g., songs that evoke a memory, certain voices, and certain riffs.

What could you chatter about incessantly? At the moment--Great Danes. I want one so bad!

What do you want to learn more about? Myself

What or who do you want to feel more connected to? Myself

What do you do that simply feels right? Breastfeed and co-sleep, eat right and exercise, and always try to learn something new everyday.

Guilty feelings rant(bad grammer, misspellings and all)

My feelings of guilt have been growing steadily for the past few months. As Taison get older I am finding myself wanting to get out and do things more often. He is not an infant anymore and I am pretty comfortable leaving him with Daddy for a few hours. At times I feel great...inspired to go out and conquer the world lol. All I really want to do is go kayaking for the first time, go hiking, mountain bike, or buy rollerskates and skate outside. I have been on a road to self-discovery and have never felt this close to being happy but there is something that is keeping me from letting go completely. GUILT! Guilt from what I think my parents and family think about my decisions, Guilt from what I think society thinks I should be doing. Guilt from what I think my husband or his family thinks I should be doing. Guilt from me about what I have internalized about what I SHOULD be doing at this point--which is this--going back to work! Of course another income would help out but we are not hurting. It would put that dream of home ownership a lot closer at this point and I would not have to feel so guiltiy about spending money on things like my hair or makeup. But I would totally sacrifice my happiness. It is a choice between finally living the life I want, being "outdoorsy", cooking, spending time with my family, watching my son grow, being active, having plenty of time to really soak up and learn from my classes, with plenty of time for reflection and healing my broken pieces OR working a full time job and trying to fit the rest of that in there somewhere. I worked from 14-23 and never had time for a quater of that stuff. Every day was centered around what time I had to go to work and what time I got off. Then I would throw in eating, sleeping, and socializing and that was about it. I was SOOOOO depressed and seriously would sit at my desk most days trying to figure out how to escape the viscious cycle of the day to day. It was maddening! I do think that I would like to work again at some point after I finish college and can do what I would like to do--or at least be on that path--but for now I feel like this COULD be MY time. These have the potential to be some of the best years of my life I think. But what about my husband. Shouldn't he be able to do the same thing?! I'm sure he would love to galavant around doing whatever he wanted and having loads of fun and "me" time too. But by me not working the financial burden falls on him. Who is to say that I should not go to work and let him stay home? It makes me feel so guilty! Plus, these things take money;kayaking, buying roller skates, hiking gear, shoes, sportsbras, books. None of these things are necessities that apply to my "job" of raising our little guy and "keeping house". I feel so guilty even thinking of purchasing them. It feels so wasteful. On the other side, its ME. I am not a waste so why should I feel guilty about buying something that would aid in my heppiness. If I need a new sportsbra so that my boobs aren't flopping around while running then I deserve it dammit. UGH!

I know what the correct answer is in order to live MY life with no regrets. The problem is that the correct answer for me just does not seem to match society's answer. It is sad!

words of the day with random picture

To sum up the day: happy, productive, accomplished.

I am so reluctant to use the word happy...Hmmm...

My Franklin Soft-Spike

Around the time that I was 13 or 14 I received a very important gift. This gift would be with me for the next 12 years. I do not remember who gave me this gift but I am forever grateful. I was given a Franklin Soft Spike volleyball;neon green and pink so that it could easily be seen at dusk, Franklin Soft-Spike branded in thick black letters across the front, Made in China across the back in small print. It felt soft in my hands; some sort of synthetic durable cloth outer layer and it had more give to it then other volleyballs so it was easier on the forearms. However, this also seemed to give it less force when hit which never ceased to annoy me. I presume that because of the cloth outer layer and it's pliability it would make a sound like a dull thud when hit. The sounds of the ball making contact with anything seemed muffled.
The ball that sits in front of me now is dirty, worn, used, aged. The cloth has shifted and is no longer even close to being lined up with the air needle hole. The fabric is almost like worn suede now to the touch but is completely intact--well made. When I hold it up to my nose it smells of old clothes, not a bad smell, just an old smell. When I look at this ball I am reminded of several times in the last 12 years.
My first memory was around the age of 14 or 15. My mom had bought me a volleyball net(as I was an avid player at school) and we had set it up near the edge of our property. We lived on seven acres in the country so this was pretty far from the house. My mother and I did not get along at all and by that time in my childhood/adolescence I was already severely depressed, abusing OTC meds, contemplating suicide, cutting, binge eating and crying myself to sleep most nights. My home felt like my prison and no one knew that I was doing or feeling any of the above. Almost every weekend that I remember I would take my Franklin Soft-Spike volleyball out to that net and serve and serve and serve. I would be out there for hours--sometimes it would get dark on me. I would hit that ball as hard as I possibly could over and over and over, crying, audibly cursing my mother, my life, God, everything. I remember doing this until I got my first job at Wendy's where I had to work weekends.
My next memory comes from Terre Haute, Indiana at my Dad's house. I have a little half-sister that is eight years younger than I am and she looked up to me. She knew I played volleyball so she told me that she wanted to play too. I think that I was about 16 or 17 by this time. So every time I would drive over to visit my Dad from then on I would bring my Franklin Soft-Spike volleyball and I would work with my sister on basic skills outside;bumping, setting, rolls. Those were good memories. I don't know if I had anything to do with it but she is currently 17 and still plays volleyball for her high school and other leagues year round.
My memories with my volleyball are hit and miss after that. Every time I would move to a new place I would pack up my ball and think about how it had helped me so much in the beginning and the great times I had with my sister.
Now that I have a son my Franklin Soft-Spike volleyball resides in his toy box. He has no idea how old it is or how much it means to me. To him it is just another ball. A few weeks ago my husband, son and I were outside playing with my volleyball, laughing and having a great time. I realized just how far I have come since receiving that gift.