How Do You Like Them Apples?

This morning, while on the way home from my parents, I had the unfortunate luck of listening to Jeff and Jeremy in the Morning on KZOZ. I was barely paying attention to the immature male bantering until I heard Jeremy make a comment about Kate Winslet doing nude scenes in her movies. He begged and pleaded with her to never do a nude scene again because her boobs were "horrible" and "disgusting". I, too, became disgusted; but not with the beautiful Kate Winslet but with the despicable Jeremy (aka Mr. FuckFace). As soon as walked in my front door, I walked straight to my computer and shot Mr. FuckFace an email:

Hi guys! This morning, while listening to your show, I heard Jeremy make a comment about Kate Winslet doing nude scenes, or the fact that he wishes she never did a single one again because those "things" are "horrible". HELLO! That woman has had two children, in which she probably breast fed both of them. I'm sure her boobs don't look like that of a 22 year old chick who has never had a baby. But that is what is so refreshing about seeing her in the roles where she does go nude....she is real. She is relateable to her audience. She hasn't fallen victim to the plastic surgery addiction that most Hollywood women have divulged in. She is happy and comfortable with her body, which should be applauded by both woman and men, NOT ridiculed. I don't get offended easily, but I have to say this comment struck a cord for 2 reasons. 1. I am a 26 year old mother. Although I have lost all my baby weight, my body does not look the same. Yes, my boobs hang a little lower and they are uneven as well. 2. I don't appreciate you insinuating that if there is a slight imperfection in your body, even after having TWO CHILDREN, you should "do something about it". Imperfections make us human, unique and beautiful. And especially for a woman who has done the most amazing thing a woman can do, have children, twice - she did not deserve your insult. I think you owe her and every woman out there an apology.

Emily Macri

I will let you know if we ever get that apology we so radically deserve....

Um....ya....

So I guess that whole sleeping through the night sleep thing was a fluke! Vincent was up twice during the night last night and he woke up for good at 5:00am this morning. As you can imagine, I am a bit tired and I wish so badly I could just go crawl into my bed, snuggle my cold little feet into the end of the sheets, and peacefully sleep for another hour or two.

A girl can dream, right??

The Baby Book

Every mother diligently fills out her child's baby book (well, at least for the first kid...). I have spent countless hours updating and maintaining Vincent's baby book so that he will have something to look back on and feel guilty over when he is a teenager and he decides he hates me. There are two pages in the back of the baby book: Letter From Mommy & Letter From Daddy. As soon as my pen hit the page the words just started flowing. I mean, if anyone is going to bring out my most loving, nurturing emotions, it will be my child, right? I filled up the whole page within minutes and I wrote as small as possible so that I would not run out of room. See, to me, this letter from mommy thing was a piece of cake. The other page, Letter From Daddy, has remained stark white for the last 11 months. This has brought about more than one argument between my husband and I. "Why can't you write a letter to your first born son? What is wrong with you?" I actually gave him a deadline - you must write your letter in three weeks or else....

Three weeks came and went and still there was nothing but the lonely lines on an empty page. Last night, I was fed up. I didn't yell. I didn't scream. I didn't make him feel like the shittest father in the world. I calmly explained why it was so important to me. You see, Anthony's father was tragically murdered when Anthony was a mere 2 years old. Needless to say, he never knew his father and I don't think he has one single memory of him alive. He has nothing but old, torn pictures to look back on. "Anthony, what if, God forbid, you were to die tomorrow? Wouldn't you want Vincent to know, in your own words, how much he meant to you? How much he changed your life for the better? How you could never describe in a million words how much you love him?" I think I finally struck a cord.

Anthony's lack of expressing his emotions with the written word in no way is to say he is not a loving person. I know that my husband would die a thousand times over for me and for Vincent. He does, however, suffer from the inability to wear his feelings/emotions on his sleeve. But the thought of him not leaving behind anything for his son to read, to feel, left him feeling rather guilty.

Late in the evening I found him at the kitchen table, with a pen in hand and the baby book wide open. I saw his thoughts reeling in his head. I didn't dare speak a word. I didn't want to disrupt his emotional breakthrough. He only wrote a little, and he said he needed to think about it more. And that's all I could have asked of him, at that very moment, when I marveled at how much he has changed over the years....how far he has come...

GOOD MORNING!

QUICK NOTE:

VINCENT SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT LAST NIGHT FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER!! I got my first full nights sleep in um....if you consider waking up every hour to pee during pregnancy...1 1/2 years!!

Ah....

Blow The House Down

Today marked Vincent's 11th month of existence. I am constantly shocked and flabbergasted by how quickly this time has gone by. In so many ways, it seems like I was just in the hospital, pushing for 2 1/2 hours to no avail, and finally finally finally getting to see that little face I had so desperately been longing for all those months. Everyone always used to say to me, while I was pregnant, "the first year will go just like that" (finger snap...you get the picture). SO TRUE! Well, maybe not those agonizing months when the devil possessed by small baby and sent my emotions through the meat grinder, leaving nothing but uncontrollable sobs and swollen, puffy eyes. Ok, so it was colic, but I think the other version better describes my life for three months. Ya, those months probably didn't go by "just like that" (finger snap).

I officially booked Vincent's birthday party location and ordered the invites. I am a master of procrastination so I'm actually quite pleased that I am ordering my invitations and booking the lo-cal a whole month before the party! Normally one of the more responsible women of my family, such as my ultra-prepared, uber-organized sister or my just plain neurotic mother would have had zero faith in my ability to plan anything effectively and would have taken over by now. I'm not offended by their lack of faith; I'm actually relieved they know me well enough to know I just won't do some things and are always there to pick up the pieces.

My mother-in-law took Vincent for about 2 hours today, as she does everyday Tuesday. Anthony always manages to say something stupid like "oh, that'll be nice for you". "Yes, honey, it will be nice. I can now have 2 hours to pick up your dirty socks, wash your stanky boxers and prepare you a home cooked meal without the squealing interruptions of your son." He so does not get it. It's not like I take 2 hours to sit on my ass and read a book, like I've been craving to do. I'm doing shit around the house. The clothes and dishes don't wash themselves. Shocking, right?

The weather SUCKED today. I don't know how fast the wind was blowing, but it was blowing hard enough to rip my fence out of its cement retaining wall and hard enough for me to worry that when I stepped out of the shower I may be looking out the window to find that my house was swirling around the sky trying to determine where to land. Then, of course, I'd come across some faux-tan-gone-WAY-wrong little people and they would sing and dance for me....and...ya....you see where I'm going with this analogy. Point is, the wind was blowing so fucking hard that my electricity went out for hours and I was climbing the walls with a severe case of cabin fever. My technology withdrawals were like nothing I had experienced before. I couldn't believe how consumed my life had become with these things that people used to completely live without. I was deeply ashamed when the power finally came back on and I was about as happy as a kid on Christmas morning. I literally ran through the house with my hands up in the air, yelling "HALLELUJAH!! PRAISE JESUS!! MARY MOTHER OF JOSEPH!!"

I can't bag on my husband too much tonight. See, with the weather being so crazy and the wind howling so loudly that I'm even a little scared, the cats are starting to act, well, petrified. If it were up to me they'd just cuddle up in bed right next to me tonight, but Anthony does not want the cats in the house at night. So, the hardass he is, grabbed them both and put them in the garage for the night. He seemed to have been gone for a long time so I peaked out there to find him gently settling them into fluffy pillows and blankets and giving them each equal amounts of pets and affection. I smiled and walked away before he could see me. That's the man I fell in love with. The closet softy.

Oh P.S...Have you happened to try the Double Stuf Peanut Butter oreos??!! Let me say again...HOLY MARY MOTHER OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND PURE....WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN MY ENTIRE LIFE??

Photo of the Day

My mom, being the avid garage sale enthusiast she is, picked up a toy recently for both the babies. At first glance it looked like a great toy! All shiny and attention-grabbing - the kids would LOVE it!! Then, as we looked closer and thought more clearly, we began to question it....

As far as I can tell, all this puzzle is doing is teaching the kids how to....um...open a window and jump out, unlock the front door for strangers, and open the gate to roam free. Why in God's given name would you want your child to learn how to unlock every latch & lock??

My only conclusion is that Melissa and Doug have never had children...

Lush

It is nearing 8:00pm and I am already holed up in my bedroom, comfortably nuzzled in between my sheets. It has been one hell of a weekend, full of excitement, full of family, and of course as usual, full of super good food. Every time my sister and her husband visit I can very well guarantee to put on at least a couple of pounds. They are two of the most amazing cooks I know and every meal they prepare is prepared with diligence and an abundance of love. You can taste the sincerity in their meals and it makes your tummy warm before you even take a bite.

The babies had their first official Easter egg hunt and just as I had originally presumed, we simply threw eggs about the lawn and then willingly stumbled around to grab them. It was completely simple and yet incredibly enjoyable to witness and be a part of. Those two little babies have grown tremendously in such a short amount of time - I can't hardly stand it! Lucy is beginning to walk more steady and with much more confidence. Her face just lights up with accomplishment when she steps her tiny little feet across the living room only to fall happily into your welcoming lap.

Vincent's impending first birthday has me thinking about boobs - mine that is. I always assumed I would breastfeed Vincent for the first year, as recommended, and then POOF we'd just stop. Now that 12 months of breastfeeding is right around the corner, I see no "poofing" happening anytime soon. Vincent is a boob man. Always has been. When he was 6 weeks old he defiantly pushed away any one's attempt at bottle feeding him and would cry out in agony until he got his fill from the real deal. I have yet to keep an accurate record, but if I were to have to guess how often Vincent breastfeeds I would estimate about 6-7 "nursies" (as we call them) a day and probably one or two at night. Nowhere near a slight wean is what I am getting at. How do I stop him from his strong suckling desire. I know for a fact that most of his nursies are for comfort and comfort only, not for food. He is a good eater when it comes to solids and can actually shovel in more than I could probably consume in one feeding. So although I know breastmilk is still good for them nutritionally, I don't believe Vincent needs to be breastfeeding as much as he does. I vow to begin my weening process at 12 months. I know I will need to work on this slowly, but I also know it will be HELL in this house during our weening process. I'm sure you will hear all about it when the time comes.

Seeing as it is Easter, I want to keep this post both positive and inspirational. So, as I leave you tonight to snuggle up with my husband, eat my Good & Plenty's and watch E! I wish you all a Happy Easter & a wonderful week ahead.

There is still much I'd like to bitch about, like the nagging cough I have that is keeping me up at night and the cough syrup my mother-in-law gave me this evening that apparently contained codeine and has me feeling high and lushed out, and the fact that my husband is pouring money into a motorcycle we never get to ride, and that I have $2000.00 in dental bills sitting on my table that I can't pay. But, like I said, positive and inspirational, positive and inspirational, positive and inspirational....

Dear Vincent

Dear Vincent,

You have been the most incredible, life changing thing that has ever happened to me. Your wild, strong-willed personality just lights up my life. From the first moment I saw you, I knew I would do anything for you. To have a baby is to learn that you would die for someone else. It's a hard concept to grasp, to be a mother, until the day you see your child's face and finally discovering the meaning of unconditional love. It's something you cannot explain to anyone who is without. Your untameble spirit keeps me on my toes, to say the least. Being a new mother is not the easiest thing for me. It did not come to me in this miraculous way they make it seem like in the movies. There are days when I feel so overwhelmed and that I don't know what the hell I am doing! But at the end of the day, you and I are in this together. I believe we are both learning from and growing with each other everyday. You have taught me more in just 11 short months that anyone has ever been able to. You have made me appreciate life in a way I just never could before. When I look into those big eyes and kiss those big, pouty lips, I see so much of myself and so much of your father. It makes me unbelievable proud, like heart-about-to-explode proud! My only hope is that I can provide you with the same level of love and happiness that you have bestowed upon me.

I remember the day I found out I was going to have a son. It was what I always wanted and I couldn't believe how blessed I was. I got home and wrote to you:

Be a gentle man

Be a man of your word

Always shake hands with a firm grip

Look in the world straight in the eye

Hold your head up high

Be brave & be strong

Be simplistic & kind

Be rough around the edges

Keep them guessing...

Be honest and hardworking, in anything you choose to do

Love your mother

Respect your father

Be an individual

Do not get caught up in following others

Never bully

Appreciate the little things,

the loud thunder of a wide open motor,

or the causality in the strum of a guitar

Respect and love women

appreciate what they are capable of

Be recreational.

Enjoy the sunshine on the back of your neck

Be proud of the grit under your fingernails

Do not cheat. Do not lie.

A lying, cheating heart is an unforgiving burden

Don't waste your potential

Don't waste your energy on undeserving individuals

Take Risks.

Question what they say...even me

Admit when you are wrong.

Apologize from the bottom of your heart

Mean it...Show it...

Be rowdy and boisterous

Make a scene!

Stand out!

Give in

Be patient and calm

Do not envy

Accept love for all it stands for

Do not take people for granted

Say "I love you often"

Mean it...Show it...

If this sounds like a lot to ask of you, don't be intimidated. You are my sunshine, the completeness to me once emptiness. You could never let me down. You could never make me turn my back on you. It's you and me, Bud. Forever and ever, Amen.

Love,

Mama

Don't Call Me, I'll Call You....

Let me start off by reiterating that I have Vincent on a fairly strict nap schedule. This took ample amount of time to accomplish, and I must say I am quite proud of it. Vincent naps at 9:00am and 1:00pm. Now, every once in a while we forsake this path for whatever reason, but for the most part we can count on a nap at those two particular times. At 8:55am this morning I sat down on my rocker with my little man in tow with the mission to nurse him to sleep. (Yes, I am trying to get Vincent to learn to fall asleep without a boob, but I can't always be a hardass). Right as Vincent's droopy eyelids started getting heavy, my cell phone rang. It was my husband. Luckily, I had the phone right there next to me so I simply pressed the ignore button so the phone would stop ringing. Then, without fail, the house phone starts ringing. I jump up to answer it because my husband as the annoying habit of letting the phone ring about 50 times before he gives up. This is how the phone call went:

Me: HELLO (annoyed)

Anthony: Hi.

Me: I ignore your phone call for a reason...I'm trying to get Vincent down!

Anthony: Oh, sorry.

Me: Click (hang up)

After I finally got Vincent to sleep, despite the numerous interruptions, I called my poor husband. I felt bad for hanging up on him, even though he should have known not to call at 9:00am!! He seemed rather unrattled by my bitchy behavior. I am still undecided on whether this is a good thing or a bad thing. Ha Ha.

Well, my sister is in town now and I'm super excited. As soon as Vincent wakes up we are going to head over to my parents house where they are staying. The weather is starting to somewhat improve. The sun is starting to shine through, but there is still a bit of a chill in the air. This creates quite a dilemma for me because it's a little too warm for my Uggs, but a little too cold for my flip flops. If you know me at all you know I only wear one or the other, so I'm still trying to decide which shoe to put on. If this is my biggest problem of the day, I think I'll be in pretty good shape.

xoxox

Murphy's Law

Why is it that every time Vincent is screaming bloody murder in his car seat I get stuck behind someone leisurely driving at a glacier's pace?? It is much like the law of gravity; what goes up must come down; Vincent cries we cruise like snails. Other than Vincent's heinous hysteria on our way home from Morro Bay this afternoon, things are going pretty well. The weather is gloomy and opaque which hasn't managed to damper my mood quite yet. Although I do wish it would rain. We are in desperate need of a good rain, and hell, if it's going to be dark and dreary outside, I'd like to take advantage of the distinct smell that only rain can bring about.

My sister, her husband and her precious baby Lucy will be in town tonight. I am looking forward to spending a long weekend with my family, watching Lucy clumsily attempt walking (although I hear she is getting more and more balance as the days go by), and put together a "faux" easter egg hunt for the babies. I imagine we will just be sprawling eggs on the lawn for the babies to crawl around and grab. I don't foresee Vincent searching high and low, in bushes and trees for the sought after eggs! Lucy on the other hand...

I am begining to hear the faint whimpers of Vincent, letting me know he has awoke from his nap. So I will sign off for now.

xoxox