The Good The Bad And The Ugly

I have been thinking about my earlier post all day and it is now true confession time.

If I'm going to share my life with all of you and eventually Lucas himself, then I have to share the good, the bad and the ugly...

By and large, Sea World is one of those places that is great for busy toddlers; there is tons of open and safe places for them to roam around and explore, provided there aren't swarms of people and you're up for some exercise.

So, yes while we had a very fun day yesterday, Lucas has decided that the stroller is a torture chamber.

Full.

On.

Meltdown.

Every time I tried to get him into the stroller so that we could venture on to the next exhibit.

He wanted only to be on the ground and mobile, not strapped in or confined.

There were tears and sweat and head butts and one skinned knee.

It wasn't pretty.

I have decided that I'm NOT cut out for these tantrums.

They are embarrassing and exhausting and leave me feeling completely helpless and awful. They make me want to package up my child, take him home and never leave the house with him again.

These fits of rage never last very long, but it is as though the devil himself possesses my son for four minutes and for me it is an excruciating 240 seconds. Seriously, it is the worst part of parenting... so far.

I am hoping these outbursts are just a phase. Somebody, please tell me that this is just a phase. Lucas has only been walking for three months, so I know that it is still very new and exciting to him.

So, there you have it. There were oh, four of these episodes yesterday. Luckily they got tamer as the day wore on because his little legs got tired, but nevertheless, they took their toll on both of us.

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The Ujjayi Sound-- A Guided Practice for Beginners

BKS Iyengar pranayama

The breath is the king of the mind.

Staying Simple


Be blessed

in the basic awareness
of knowing
you do not know
the answers,

In this humbleness
is strength
guiding all
toward their own true nature,

Not the weakness
of complicated cleverness
that disguises the ego
as the master,

Be willing
to blend peacefully
into common-place cycles of life
with sensible precaution
of the silent destiny
always at work,
regardless of your particular opinion,

There lies comforting understanding,
within faithful surrender to the unknown,
invisible, inevitable presence,
that a clearer pattern exists,

Containing the joy
of simply being
amidst the unforced process
of the Tao.

Gordon Neumann


"Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around - nobody big, I mean - except me. And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff - I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be."

J.D. Salinger (The Catcher in the Rye)

Another Great Day In San Diego

We are so lucky to live in San Diego; home of the Padres, bountiful beaches, beautiful weather and plenty of amusement parks.

Yesterday, we tackled Sea World with our friends Jenn and Tristan.

It was a great day.

We saw penguins, sharks, sea lions, walrus, beluga whales, Shamu and met Elmo!

While I was mesmerized by the walrus, you couldn't get enough of your favorite Sesame Street characters. It was fun to see you get so tickled over meeting Elmo. I was expecting you to be scared, but you hugged all of them and were all smiles. My brave boy.

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The Best Is Yet To Be

Many people have asked me where my sign off line: 'the best is yet to be' is from, and I actually had to do a little research.

The first place I came across it, was as a child on an anniversary card my mother gave my father. I loved the phrase so much that it stuck with me.

From time to time I would hear it in songs on the radio and see it mass produced on various merchandise, but I never really knew where it came from until now...

Rabbi ben Ezra is a poem by British poet, Robert Browning about Abraham ibn Ezra (1092-1167), one of the great poets, mathematicians and scholars of the 12th century.

The poem begins:

Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be...

The poem in it's entirety is below and definitely worth the read, but I warn you it's very long.

To me, 'the best is yet to be' is the perfect sign off because I truly believe it. I am a hopeful person and love looking forward to events and what will be.

Another phrase I considered was: 'what will be is now becoming' because when I started this blog, I was a brand new mother and I knew from Day 1, it was going to be the most difficult adjustment in my life. A process. A transformation of give and take, push and pull and that day after day, I would be bound and determined to get better at.

Each day, I hope to be a better wife, mother, sister and friend tomorrow than I am today and that I learn from each experience and take them with me as I go.

As a mother, some days are a lot more trying than others and that sometimes means taking two steps back just to make one forward, but I do it, day in and day out, always hoping for the best. Some days are stellar and those are the days I live for, 'the best of' days.

The days that aren't so stellar...well, those are the days I am grateful come to an end and I get to go to bed knowing that tomorrow has to be better!

Having a child really forces you to be in the moment, which has always been a very difficult task for me, but I'm getting better at it because I have to. For Lucas' sake and my own.

Rabbi Ben Ezra
by Robert Browning

Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made:
Our times are in His hand
Who saith, 'A whole I planned,
Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be
afraid!'

Not that, amassing flowers,
Youth sighed, 'Which rose make ours,
Which lily leave and then as best recall?'
Not that, admiring stars,
It yearned, 'Nor Jove, nor Mars;
Mine be some figured flame which blends, transcends
them all!'

Not for such hopes and fears
Annulling youth's brief years,
Do I remonstrate: folly wide the mark!
Rather I prize the doubt
Low kinds exist without,
Finished and finite clods, untroubled by a spark.

Poor vaunt of life indeed,
Were man but formed to feed
On joy, to solely seek and find and feast;
Such feasting ended, then
As sure an end to men;
Irks care the crop-full bird? Frets doubt the
maw-crammed beast?

Rejoice we are allied
To That which doth provide
And not partake, effect and not receive!
A spark disturbs our clod;
Nearer we hold of God
Who gives, than of His tribes that take, I must believe.

Then, welcome each rebuff
That turns earth's smoothness rough,
Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand but go!
Be our joys three-parts pain!
Strive, and hold cheap the strain;
Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge
the throe!

For thence,—a paradox
Which comforts while it mocks,—
Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail:
What I aspired to be,
And was not, comforts me:
A brute I might have been, but would not sink
i' the scale.

What is he but a brute
Whose flesh has soul to suit,
Whose spirit works lest arms and legs want play?
To man, propose this test—
Thy body at its best,
How far can that project thy soul on its lone way?

Yet gifts should prove their use:
I own the Past profuse
Of power each side, perfection every turn:
Eyes, ears took in their dole,
Brain treasured up the whole;
Should not the heart beat once 'How good to
live and learn'?

Not once beat 'Praise be thine!
I see the whole design,
I, who saw power, see now love perfect too:
Perfect I call thy plan:
Thanks that I was a man!
Maker, remake, complete,—I trust what Thou
shalt do!'

For pleasant is this flesh;
Our soul, in its rose-mesh
Pulled ever to the earth, still yearns for rest:
Would we some prize might hold
To match those manifold
Possessions of the brute,—gain most, as we did best!

Let us not always say,
'Spite of this flesh to-day
I strove, made head, gained ground upon the whole!'
As the bird wings and sings,
Let us cry, 'All good things
Are ours, nor soul helps flesh more, now, than
flesh helps soul!'

Therefore I summon age
To grant youth's heritage,
Life's struggle having so far reached its term:
Thence shall I pass, approved
A man, for aye removed
From the developed brute; a god though in the
germ.

And I shall thereupon
Take rest, ere I be gone
Once more on my adventure brave and new:
Fearless and unperplexed,
When I wage battle next,
What weapons to select, what armour to indue.

Youth ended, I shall try
My gain or loss thereby;
Leave the fire ashes, what survives is gold:
And I shall weigh the same,
Give life its praise or blame:
Young, all lay in dispute; I shall know, being old.

For, note when evening shuts,
A certain moment cuts
The deed off, calls the glory from the grey:
A whisper from the west
Shoots—'Add this to the rest,
Take it and try its worth: here dies another day.'

So, still within this life,
Though lifted o'er its strife,
Let me discern, compare, pronounce at last,
'This rage was right i' the main,
That acquiescence vain:
The Future I may face now I have proved the
Past.'

For more is not reserved
To man, with soul just nerved
To act to-morrow what he learns to-day:
Here, work enough to watch
The Master work, and catch
Hints of the proper craft, tricks of the tool's true play.

As it was better, youth
Should strive, through acts uncouth,
Toward making, than repose on aught found made:
So, better, age, exempt
From strife, should know, than tempt
Further. Thou waitedst age: wait death nor be afraid!

Enough now, if the Right
And Good and Infinite
Be named here, as thou callest thy hand thine own,
With knowledge absolute,
Subject to no dispute
From fools that crowded youth, nor let thee feel
alone.

Be there, for once and all,
Severed great minds from small,
Announced to each his station in the Past!
Was I, the world arraigned,
Were they, my soul disdained,
Right? Let age speak the truth and give us peace
at last!

Now, who shall arbitrate?
Ten men love what I hate,
Shun what I follow, slight what I receive;
Ten, who in ears and eyes
Match me: we all surmise,
They, this thing, and I, that: whom shall my
soul believe?

Not on the vulgar mass
Called 'work', must sentence pass,
Things done, that took the eye and had the price;
O'er which, from level stand,
The low world laid its hand,
Found straightway to its mind, could value in a trice:

But all, the world's coarse thumb
And finger failed to plumb,
So passed in making up the main account;
All instinct immature,
All purposes unsure,
That weighed not as his work, yet swelled
the man's amount:

Thoughts hardly to be packed
Into a narrow act,
Fancies that broke through language and escaped;
All I could never be,
All, men ignored in me,
This, I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher
shaped.

Ay, note that Potter's wheel,
That metaphor! and feel
Why time spins fast, why passive lies our clay,—
Thou, to whom fools propound,
When the wine makes its round,
'Since life fleets, all is change; the Past gone, seize
to-day!'

Fool! All that is, at all,
Lasts ever, past recall;
Earth changes, but thy soul and God stand sure:
What entered into thee,
That was, is, and shall be:
Time's wheel runs back or stops: Potter and clay
endure.

He fixed thee mid this dance
Of plastic circumstance,
This Present, thou, forsooth, wouldst fain arrest:
Machinery just meant
To give thy souls its bent,
Try thee and turn thee forth, sufficiently impressed.

What though the earlier grooves
Which ran the laughing loves
Around thy base, no longer pause and press?
What though about thy rim,
Skull-things in order grim
Grow out, in graver mood, obey the sterner stress?

Look not thou down but up!
To uses of a cup,
The festal board, lamp's flash, and trumpet's peal,
The new wine's foaming flow,
The Master's lips a-glow!
Thou, heaven's consummate cup, what need'st
thou with earth's wheel?

But I need, now as then,
Thee, God, who mouldest men;
And since, not even while the whirl was worst,
Did I—to the wheel of life
With shapes and colours rife,
Bound dizzily,—mistake my end, to slake Thy thirst:

So, take and use Thy work,
Amend what flaws may lurk,
What strain o' the stuff, what warpings past the
aim!
My times be in Thy hand!
Perfect the cup as planned!
Let age approve of youth, and death complete
the same!

I told you it was long!!

The best is yet to be.

Letters For Lucas

I can't believe I have been at this for one year today! Over 300 posts.

Letters For Lucas has gone from what I thought would be a passing phase to an absolute necessity and something that I think about all.the.time. I enjoy writing more than ever and I am grateful for all of my readers and especially the comments that they leave.

This is my outlet and documentation of my son's childhood and my life as his mother.

I am proud to be apart of the mommy blogging community, look forward to the next year and beyond and I'm thrilled to have Lucas' dad guest posting here today for the first time.

************************************************
Lucas,

I know that I rarely call you by your name, but since this will be printed and is somewhat permanent, I’ll refrain from calling you Babu, Bubba, Crazy Larry or P. Your mom started this blog as a creative and social outlet in the hopes of helping her understand and enjoy a new role in life, motherhood. In her early posts, she wrote to you. Things progressed to her writing about you. Shortly thereafter, she began to very bravely write about herself. While you will appreciate the first two formats, it’s in the third where you will get to know her best. I, on the other hand, am a private and emotional person who will always share with his thoughts and feelings, but I plan to do it discretely. I’m a reluctant guest here, but I love your mom deeply, so I’ll share with you, 110 confirmed followers and god knows how many unregistered lurkers, some things I know about being your dad.

I wasn’t worried when we brought you home from the hospital. With nearly twenty hours of classroom style preparation, immaculate transportation, fully outfitted nursery and a college fund in place, I thought my next job was to continue looking cool and hand out cigars. Somewhere between five miles from the hospital and five days of being home, I realized that I had studied for the wrong test, you didn’t like riding in the car, you didn’t want to sleep anywhere but in a swing at the foot of our bed, college was a long way away, nobody looks cool without sleep and none of my friends or family smoke.

Watching every single recorded minute of the three-week-long 2009 Tour de France with your newborn son is heaven on earth. From Saturday, July 4 to Sunday, July 26 we watched the top cyclists in the world ride over 3500 kilometers. With a coffee in one hand and my month old son (you) in the other, getting up at 4:30 has never been so great. During the four-hour broadcast I got to watch you wiggle, yawn, sleep and hang out while your mom got a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. In case the 2009 TdF ever comes up in conversation, please remember that we (you and I) decided very early in the race that it was naïve of Johan Bruyneel and Lance Armstrong to expect a talent like Alberto Contador to serve as domestique to the aged seven-time champion. Contador danced on the pedals like a full-figured kid chasing an ice cream truck and earned his rightful spot on the podium.

I will never, ever forget how I felt the first time you were injured and to make matters worse, it was my fault. You were about seven months old and were really starting to enjoy rough play with me. I would roll you around on the bed while you laughed and laughed. I would stand you on my chest and say “Lucas you’re crushing me” while you stared in awe. Then one day you were laying on my chest and I rolled you off onto the couch unexpectedly. You landed on your little hand and I heard a few cracks (worse than cracking knuckles, but not quite bone breaking) and then you screamed. I felt awful. Within an instant I thought of every parent on every talk show explaining that they would rather have 10x the pain than watch their child struggle through what they had been through. Thank you for forgiving me faster than you could catch your breath. You’re a big man little buddy.

I assumed more risk than I should have while participating in the Targa Tasmania and living to tell about it will make me a better father. My friend Nick asked me to be his co-driver in the 2010 Targa Tasmania. This legendary five-day rally in Tasmania consists of thirty-nine individually timed stages on public roads that have been closed temporarily for racing. You were ten months old when your mom and I took you to Syndey where we spent a few days as tourists. From there, you and mom went to New Caledonia to see her friends while I met Nick in Melbourne where we picked up the Porsche 911 that we had entered in the race. Nick and I had discussed ad nauseam how we were there for fun and how our overall time didn’t matter. That’s an easy conversation to have over a Subway sandwich, but when strapped into a racecar and staring at a time clock on the start line, that argument enters your mind about as often as gas mileage. We were fast, consistent and getting better everyday until our enthusiasm exceeded our skill. Late on a wet and rainy day four, we took a corner way too fast, ran out of road and hit at tree, head on. Trees don’t move. They don’t absorb impact like when you hit another car or guardrail. We walked away from that impact with our egos and wallets bruised, but our bodies intact. We were lucky. All I could do from that moment on was think about seeing you and mom again at the Sydney airport. With tears in my eyes, I waited for you to pick me up at the airport. Your mom didn’t quite understand the look on my face, but when I hugged you both the way I did, she realized the incident was worse than I had explained on the phone. I was lucky enough to learn that lesson without being injured. Not everyone gets that chance.

Lucas, I promise not to do really dangerous things anymore. I will eat well, exercise, have moles inspected and go to the doctor at the first sign of a problem. I will do my best to be around for as long as possible. You and your mother mean the world to me and I cherish the responsibility that is on my shoulders.

growing

themama32 weeksthe mama. 32 weeks + growing/glowing.

i just figured it out. why i’ve put the baby prep on hold for so long. why babe-to-be only has a small drawer full of treasures. why some days i even sort of forget i’m growing boy inside this tired body.
++++
because gavin west is still my baby.
++++
i sat down here to write him a little letter but i think i’ll keep my mama words between the two of us and write them on a sheet of paper instead.
++++
he took a late nap today. which meant that tonight (after a super-classic day of grouchy-gavin antics) he was wide awake at 10:30pm. we found a comfy spot on the couch and he crawled up on top of the big-o belly and twirled my hair.
this is rare.
he wanted nothing more than a moment with me. a quiet moment of just-us. he slurped his paci and i could see his one dimple peeking out from behind it.
he was happy.
gavin is mini.
he is still my babe.

Under Construction

Letters For Lucas is getting a brand new look!!

Please pardon the dust and be sure to let me know if you see anything that you think looks funky, have suggestions for additional changes or ideas for elements I should add.

I'd also love to hear what you think of the new design and if you are a faithful reader and have a blog of your own, I now have my very own badge. :)

A special thank you to Alissa at Simple Sweet Design for all of her patience and creativity.

The best is yet to be.


Lost In Translation

Lucas, you know so many words, but trying to communicate with one another is still very difficult and frustrating for both of us. You and I had our first of what is sure to be MANY major communication breakdowns this morning.

You woke up in a delightful mood; happy and all smiles, but once we got downstairs and I started trying to make your breakfast, that all went to hell.

You spotted something on the cluttered kitchen counter top that you wanted and wanted BAD. You whined and and cried for it and kept saying "mama mama", which I took as "help me", but help from me was the LAST thing you wanted.


When I picked you up, you arched your back and pushed me away, so I put you back down on the ground, which only escalated your anger.

There was a pile of mail, a pair of your shoes, all the breakfast ingredients; a banana, milk carton, box of cereal, container of apple sauce, a cutting board, knife, bowl, spoon, and my wallet spilling out of my purse. As I meticulously picked up each and every item, showed you and asked, "is this it?", your frustration grew and grew.

You were so mad and started the ugly cry, complete with big crocodile tears, a huge pouty lip and a look in your eyes that pleaded, "why don't you understand me?!".

I was just about at my wits end with your repetitive "no's" and sad face that I almost broke down myself.
Why was I having such a hard time figuring out what you wanted and why was this all happening before 8 o'clock in the morning?

All of a sudden, it hit me.

You call Daddy's phone "mama" because his wallpaper is a picture of you and me. You also call my wallet "mama" because of the picture on my driver's license that you see as soon as you open it. The minute I handed my wallet to you, all was right in the world again. Thank God.


The best is yet to be.

Here.. We... GO!

Tomorrow is a big day. Tomorrow is the first meeting in preparation for Lucas's transition from Part C (early intervention) to Part B (school-age) of the federal government's IDEA law (Iindividuals with Disabilities Education Act), enacted in 2004.

The purpose of this meeting is to discuss the transition process, discuss a transition outcome, and develop a transition plan, which includes a Multi-Factored Evaluation (MFE) and an IEP meeting before Lucas turns three in December.

I am prepared with my (full) 3-inch binder, containing all of Lucas's reports and relevant information, and statements about our hopes/dreams, concerns, current supports, upcoming appointments, and plans for him when he turns 3, as requested, as per the agenda we were sent.

I'm a bit nervous, but I'm bringing a special someone along to be an extra set of ears. She's the best of the best. (Thanks, you-know-who)!!!

Here's what the front of my binder looks like.

I made the word splat using a web 2.0 application called Wordle. It's very user-friendly, so check it out, if you're interested!

I'm still working on my binders for everyone at the actual IEP meeting, which is still a few months away. I have lots of great ideas, thanks to JTC, Drew, and Nolan. That binder will be unveiled later this fall.

For now, wish me luck!

Are you ever a tourist in your own town?






I used to make a point of it at least 3X's per week. I'd just force my self to leave the house (and my to do list) for a few hours, and I'd be out there strolling, camera in hand. Sometimes I'd just get on my bike or hop on a bus, the sea bus, aqua bus, skytrain...what ever!

It's one of those things you sometimes have to force yourself to do because (of course we all have a million other things we "think" we "should" be doing). But lets face it...whats the worst thing thats going to happen if we take a little "me time" once in a while? Umm...well, for me my mood is gong to be better, my immune system is going to be stronger, my mind is going to be clearer, I am going to way more fun to be around.

It is very important to take a break. Regularly. Even if you absolutely love what you do.What are you investing in with that little bit of time devoted to yourself? Your whole entire life. Every aspect. and area. Your health, peace of mind. It's much like a yoga practice. It is too easy sometimes to listen to our mind telling us that there is no time.

I have been letting the chaos if life and business get the better of me this past while so I am making a pact with myself to get back out there.

Whatever is on my to do list simply can wait!

Getting out, much like getting on your mat, really clears the cobwebs out. I have always found that after a nice walk/ride/ personal adventure I am so much clearer and able to tackle those tasks I resist and avoid doing (with all my might)!

Make time for you. Make time for your own self care.If you don't do it, who is?

Make time to get outside. Don't wait for the visitors to come and force to you to be a tourist! This city is breathtaking and FILLED with prana! It's all there for the taking. If you are like me getting out can be difficult sometimes but you can do it. Force yourself!

You'll be so glad you did ♥


The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity and an understanding of life that fills them with compassions, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.

a little yoga humour..







Ultimas atividades da São Lucas

É isso ai gente...   as atividades estão a mil em nossa congregação....   não param....

Grupos de estudo Bíblico continuam acontendo terças e quintas a noite...


 

Crianças e Jovens, homenageando seus Pais, e na sequencia, tivemos um Delicioso Sopão servido pelo Departamento de servas da CEL São Lucas.



Tivemos Profissão de Fé, e recebemos três novos membros em nossa Congregação: Rogéria, Francisco e Daiane...



Culto Jovem - com a Banda "The Fuchs"






Encontro Esportivo-Futsal de Jovens DIGRA/JELB



One Conscious Breath

Breath is the bridge between the body and the mind. Regulate breath, and the body and mind will follow.
That is (as far as I am concerned) one of the few guarantees in life. And it's free! Yippie!

The Brain Tumour Foundation is hosting an Education Day here in Vancouver on September 18!

Have you been affected by a brain tumour or know someone who has?
Brain cancer is something that most people don't like to think about but its very real.

Did you know that In Canada, there are an estimated 55,000 people living with a brain tumour, and each year an additional 10,000 are diagnosed? It is really frightening but there IS help out there and support.

Brain cancer is one of those orphan cancers that doesn't receive very much attention/funding etc. but I can tell you... it is a devastating diagnosis.
But there is hope! There's always hope and lot's of it!

Thousands of people find emotional support and comfort and resources through The Brain Tumour Foundation of Canada's programs and services, all the while gaining a better understanding and knowledge of their disease.

Next month The Brain Tumour Foundation is hosting an "Education Day" and you are invited! It's a morning of hope and support and information for all!

It is a Pediatric Brain Tumour Seminar Saturday September 18th from 9:00am-12:00pm and is at BC Children's Hospital, Main Auditorium. 4480 Oak St, Vancouver.

I'll certainly be there!

The topics are:

-Late Effects of Brain Tumor treatment
-Transitioning panel discussion

For more information or to register click this link www.educationdays.ca
A link to the Brain Tumour Foundation of Canada is www.braintumour.ca

Whenever You Call You Friend

I never miss Natalie's blog, Mommy of a Monster and I am so proud of her presence in the mommy blogging community. If you aren't reading her blog, you are truly missing out.

Natalie is the mother of three; a three-year-old son and one year-old twin daughters. Her writing is witty and heartfelt. She has over 400 followers and claims that I helped her get started, but at this point, we are inspiring each other. After all that's what friends are for....

Thank you, Natalie for guest posting here today and I wish you continued success and hope that I get to see your beautiful face soon, my friend.

The best is yet to be.

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Having a "friend" can mean so many different things. Sometimes it is someone you have lunch with everyday at work. Sometimes it is someone you talk to each day either on the phone or by e-mail. Sometimes it is a person whom you've known forever, but don't talk to except a few times a year.


Some friends start out as enemies, or end up as enemies. Friends make us laugh, cry, mad, and happy. They support us, encourage us, and hold us when we cry. Some friends are our "fun" friends, some our counselors and some are like family.

We have different friends for different seasons of our lives. Friends can change when jobs do, or when life does. For instance, when you have a serious boyfriend or get married, you might not hang out with your single friends as much. Or when you are going through a difficult time in your life, you might lean on your friends that have also been through similar situations.

I have known Tonya for about 8 years. I consider her a very good friend of mine. I know what's going on in her life everyday through reading her blog and tweeting with her on Twitter. I know she loves reading, wine, and Dave Matthews Band...music in general for that matter. I know she doesn't cook very often. I know that she's lived and traveled all over the world. I know she lost her parents in a tragic accident. I feel like I know her sister, even though I've never met her. I know Tonya has an amazing group of friends that she's been friends with for years, and they regularly all get together. I know she married an amazing man, had the cutest son you've ever seen and is happy.

But I don't know her favorite color. Or favorite food. Or who gave her her first kiss. I've never met her husband or Lucas. We didn't attend each other's weddings, don't know each other's birthdays, and haven't physically seen each other in years, even though we live less than two hours away from each other. And yet, I still consider her a good friend!

During the years I've known her, there were probably four years that we fell out of touch with each other. We first met while working together at a marketing agency. We worked in different departments and rarely talked shop - when we talked it was always on a more personal level. Oddly enough, we never went to lunch together or saw each other outside of work, and yet we still developed a friendship.

We got back in touch (thank you, Facebook!) shortly before I found out she was pregnant with Lucas. We started chatting about pregnancy and all things mom. I found out a few months later I was pregnant with the twins and so we got to experience our pregnancies together.

And when Lucas was born, she joined the new and exciting world of motherhood. The joy, excitement, fear, frustration, worrying, and all other emotions that go with it. Like the rest of us, she realized quickly she didn't know what she was doing, but kept doing it anyways. And she's doing it well!

For me and I'm sure many others, when you become a mom for the first time your friendships change. Before I had my son, who is three now, I remember listening to moms praise or complain about their kids and remember thinking "Don't you have anything else to talk about?!". I remember moms saying how hard it was to deal with their toddlers and I would think "How hard could it be? He's a lot littler than you and you're in charge!" Ha! Little did I know that being a mom does not necessarily mean you're in charge!

After having my son, I realized that I was stepping into a new chapter of my life, and everything was changing. My friends that had children already suddenly became people that I needed; I had so many questions, needed so many tips, wanted recommendations on everything. I suddenly understood that I knew nothing about being a mom, and each of my friends stepped up to help me.

And those things that I was afraid to admit to myself and certainly terrified to say out loud? Things like "I don't like my kid today" and "This is not what I had in mind when I wanted to become a mom" or "I'm not sure I can do this", I finally told a close friend, who was an experienced mom, how I was feeling. And she told me it was completely normal! I'm not a bad mom...I'm just a mom!

I think after having children, our friendships become more open; more honest. We aren't afraid to say the wrong thing because we (finally) realize there are no wrong feelings when you are learning something new. And let's face it, motherhood is a constant, ever changing, never ending adventure.

Tonya, I'm glad to be going down the winding, bumpy road with you. We're in for a fun ride!

Happy one year blogoversary, my friend. I look forward to reading Letters for Lucas everyday. It has and will always be one of my favorite blogs. Keep on writing your beautiful words and sharing your experiences, thoughts, and feelings with all of us. And without your encouragement and support I would have never started my blog. So more than mere words can ever say, thank you for the inspiration!

Kidsville

Today, Lucas and I spent the afternoon at Kidsville, a wonderful little city made just for children.
My Mommy & Me friend, Jenn told me about Kidsville and I was really excited to check it out, but I had no idea how much fun we were in for.
The place is huge and it is a child's heaven. There's a play kitchen, grocery store, school house, fire station, pet shop, castle, hospital, tons of toys, slides and tyke-size vehicles.
What a great way to keep cool, tire out the my little monkey and keep him safe while he explores, plays and makes new friends.
There is a $10 fee for a one day admission or $65 for a three month pass. Talk about a great deal!

File this under 'I wish I had thought of that'.

The best is yet to be.

Guest Post

This Friday marks my one year blogoversary and to celebrate, I have asked my three favorite readers to guest post this week.

The first is your aunt Leah, who shows up here once a month or so and shares her wit and wisdom.

Leah has her own blog, LA 'n' LA.

Dear Lucas,

I believe there is one thing that your mom may love more than your daddy, me and even you and that is her beloved blog, Letters for Lucas.

Yes, she sure does love her blog and has surprisingly found the time to post just about every single day. Not to mention, she now has over 100 followers! That’s a lot of people checking up on her (and you) daily. So, where does she find the time to blog? Well, fortunately you occasionally will take a mid-morning nap and of course go to bed delightfully early - around 7:30. This leaves her just enough time to clean up after YOU, catch up on some TV or watch a movie with your dad and then sit down with a glass of wine and blog.

She always has things to say. Sure, it’s not always all about you and what new and fun things you are doing, sometimes, it’s just about her and what she is currently interested in. I really think/hope you are going to absolutely adore reading her blog when you are older. I hope you know how lucky you are to have a mom who is keeping track of your life this way. I wish that your Grandma Adams had done something like this for us when we were growing up but then again, we didn’t have blogs or even the Internet back then. I know, it was a crazy and different world! Ha ha! : )

Your mom has certainly inspired me and my blog. I definitely would not have even started my own if it hadn’t been for her. She is always encouraging me to write. When our parents died, one of the first things we did was go to a bookstore and buy journals. At the time I wasn’t sure how writing would help me deal with my grief, but I took that purple journal and began writing that night. Immediately, it felt so good to put on paper how sad and alone I felt. Then, a couple nights before their memorial service, I read out loud to her what I wrote and that felt even better. I think this is why we both enjoy blogging so much. We get to explain how we feel and share our worlds with strangers, who are now friends, read it. Often times, we learn that we are not alone. I suppose it's human nature to want to be understood by others.

Your mom is a great writer and really makes you feel connected and interested in her subject matter. She may think that this is a crazy idea but she should really consider being a professional writer. I love how her writing style is just like the way she talks. Seriously, it’s like she is sitting right there next to you having a conversation with you. How many people can really do that?

Congratulations to your mom on her 1 year blogoversary! May she continue her blog with the same excitement and enjoyment that she does today. And in her now famous last words, “the best is yet to be”.

I love you, LMW.

Your Aunt Leah

Thanks, Leah. I do love my blog and I'm glad you are enjoying having one too. Writing is like therapy.

The best is yet to be.

a matter of semantics


I did not take this one, for the record...

In the past when people have asked me what's on Lucas's ear, I usually would tell them that it's a cochlear implant and that it helps him to hear. I also typically use the word help with children, because it makes the most sense to them.

I've been thinking about it lately, and I don't believe that the word help does the cochlear implant nor profound hearing loss much justice. The cochlear implant doesn't just help Lucas to hear, it allows him to hear. Without it, he hears nothing. Period. There's no helping involved. Helping is like being half-way done and someone lending you a hand. Hearing with a cochlear implant is like going from zero to 95 with the attachment of a magnet. It's pure allowance.


So, today when the cashier at the coffee shop told Lucas she liked the flashy thing on his ear, then proceeded to ask me what it is, I told her it's a cochlear implant, which allows him to hear. She then asked me if he can hear without it. Nope. Then she asked me if he was deaf from birth, and commented on how amazing technology is these days (INDEED). She thanked me for sharing (which was nice). Conversation over and mission accomplished.


I guess it was a matter of semantics.