32 Days of December

I don't have a thousand Facebook Friends. My Blog is followed by a whopping 6 readers. Unless I go to the grocery store, I only see approximately 10 people a day. The life of a Stay-at-home-Mommy/Work-at-home-Auntie is not exactly what one would call "social". But I do have access to millions of trillions of people via the wonderful World Wide Web! I can post something on my blog or Facebook and ask my very sweet  "friends/followers" to repost, and they can ask their friends to do the same. Then, awareness can be raised that might not have been. And it all starts with one. One person can do one facebook post, or send one email, or click the donate button and give one dollar.

My sister was on her way out this morning after dropping off her youngest to me for the day, when she mentioned reading about an orphan named Cliff right now sitting in a government orphanage in Europe. He has Down Syndrome and there is a fundraiser being done to help whomever might decide to adopt him with the fees that go along with that enormous and selfless decision. After reading about it myself, I immediately posted a Facebook status with the link to Make Christmas Count for Cliff (see: button on my sidebar) so that my loving friends could repost, and raise awareness and maybe send some more donations his way.

And so starts my 32 Days of December Service project. My blog may not be one where you can come to be entertained, or even to be educated. But you can come and read what goes through my mind as I sit and let my fingers drift over the keyboard. And now they're directed at a purpose, to enlighten. I want to spend every single day in December in service. It may come in the form of donating blankets, canned goods or clothes to the local shelters in my area. Or helping a senior citizen load groceries into their car after their shopping trip at the store. But I will admit, most of my service will come in the form of finding worthy causes on the net and spreading the word about them. Raising awareness. Not just raising funds for all these things, though that is a goal as well.

As it is, I stand at my kitchen counter right now typing this up on my laptop as my nephew and son finish up their Chicken Nugget, fruit and milk lunch. My hands are busied most of the day with the loving task of changing diapers, wiping noses, kissing boo boos, reading books (over and over and over...) and putting babies down for naps. I wouldn't trade that for all of the money in the world. But, it does leave little time to do much else (including but not limited to: bathing, brushing my hair and putting on make-up or even matching clothing) I would love to find the hours in the day to create a lasting Memory book for my son - complete with stickers and hand written captions that detail every single action in every single picture; or to even go volunteer at the DFW Pug Rescue to help abandoned and abused Pugs to find loving homes. Maybe someday in the not too distant future, I will find some time to Martha Stewart my way through planting my very own vegetable garden and compost bin. But that day is not today.

This is what I am able to do with the time I have... right now. I'm setting no rules, I feel like that might limit me. I am going to strive to do this every.single.day. for 32 days (starting today). If you have a link to provide or a worthy cause to consider, I'm all ears. I will be either blogging or facebook posting, or both about my findings and actions.

Comments are more than welcome and much appreciated.

Thanks for reading!

Blogging in Bed

All I can say is: I really love WiFi, and my laptop, and our pillowtop mattress. I can veg out in front of cable tv (on mute) while listening to my playlist and enjoy a warming cup of cocoa. This is my idea of self indulgence. My sweet baby boy is snoozing in his room, Big Daddy is in the living watching "his shows" and I'm back here, in the quiet stillness surrounded by fluffy pillows and warm blankets.

Forget the facials and shopping sprees and spa days; I'll take a quiet half hour at home-sweet-home to recharge my batteries, reflect on the day, and be ever so grateful for the things I have in my life. A few moments to Thank the Man in Charge for another blessing filled day.

My nephew asking "Mommy! (sometimes Memmie) Watch!?!" Seeing my sister hug and kiss her son and mine. My Westin giving me random hugs and kisses, and my husband catching me off guard in a sweet confession of just how awed he is at our amazing child. Wishing my ill sister a better day tomorrow, and telling another sister to soak in all the youth of her babies now cause it'll be all too soon that they'll be leaving the nest and her at home willing them to come back and get under her feet and raise a ruckus.

Everyday I'm reminded that my Westin won't stay little for long. He grows and changes so much by the minute! It seems like it was just last month that he learned how to sit up unassisted, and now he's walking and talking, pointing out the "Pane!" (plane) and "Pih-ees" (pretties)...

So I'll rock him and let him twirl my hair until he tires of it. (I had considered cutting my hair in a short bob, but I think I'll leave the length so he can continue to run his fingers through it.) I'll pick him up and tote him on my hip until I just can't carry him anymore. The days are quickly running out, I know this all too well. Then other childish rites will replace the baby milestones...

But until then, I'll tuck in my little Wessie-poo, wish him sweet dreams and whisper 'I love you, booger boo' in his ear and slowly walk out of his bedroom door, smiling at him all the way. Then I'll sit for a few moments and enjoy just sitting; until it gets too quiet and I start wishing for daylight and for my boy to be awake again.

:)

Daydream Believer

Oh, I could hide 'neath the wings
Of the bluebird as she sings.
The six o'clock alarm would never ring.

But it rings and I rise,
Wipe the sleep out of my eyes.
My shavin' razor's cold and it stings.

Cheer up, Sleepy Jean.
Oh, what can it mean?
To a daydream believer
And a homecoming queen.

You once thought of me
As a white knight on a steed.
Now you know how happy I can be.

Oh, and our good times start and end
Without dollar one to spend.
But how much, baby, do we really need.

Cheer up, Sleepy Jean.
Oh, what can it mean.
To a daydream believer
And a homecoming queen.

~

Well, the Monkees had it partly right. I was, and still am, a daydream believer but I was only a Homecoming Court Princess. No Queen here...


Never-the-less, my daydreams go something like this:

Justin and I in a big log country house with vaulted ceilings, rustic and antique furniture invite you to sit down and curl up with a good book. The mix of soft, faded, love worn fabrics in muted colors against the hearty, solid heaviness of the pine. Horses grazing in the pasture on grass as green as the Ireland hills with a breathtaking view of the rugged Texas landscape. The pinks and periwinkles of the setting sun, mixing together with cotton candy clouds in a quickly dimming sky. A warm fire crackling in the stone hearth, a big pot of beans smellin up the house as they bubble on the stove. My babies, all 20 of them nestled in their own little heavens -- some out in the tree house fighting off pirates with sticks for swords, some on the swingset trying to swing so high that they might land on the moon, others snuggled down in their beds, napping. And always, at least one (or two, or three...) in my lap, listening to me read "One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish"

And then I blink, and its all gone. And I'm faced with a reality thats actually *better* than a daydream. My very own son, smiling up at his Mommy that was lost in her own mind for a few moments. He giggles when I blow raspberries on his tummy. He claps and dances when the Wiggles sing a merry tune. He signs "please" "more" and blows kisses when he's trying to sign "thank you"... He reaches up his tiny hands to twirl my hair as I rock him to sleep. And he's R E A L. No amount of daydreaming could ever do justice to just how precious a child that is my baby boy.

The roundabouts & inbetweens

In my car there are animal crackers crunched into the baby's seat and carpet, juice splatters on the vinyl, sticky fingerprints on the windows, bouncing balls and board books cluttering the floor boards, a sturdy stroller in the trunk, a few loose sweater & blankies for the upcoming cold weather, a handful of restuarant napkins in the glove box, Toy Story in the travel DVD player for fussy car rides...

In my living room live about 1800 different kinds of sports balls, 5 different baseball bats, books with various pages torn out (one special, very loved "Bubbles, Bubbles" Sesame Street cardboard book has duct tape holding the binding together) various wheeled scooter toys great for pushing cousins in, lots of floor/throw pillows for pillow fights & cuddle sessions, a CD binder stuffed to the gills of Wiggles, Kidsongs, Sesame Street, Elmo's Greatest Hits, Nanny McPhee, Toy Story (1,2 & 3) Shrek, Little Women...

My "purse" contains one tiny wrist-wallet with my necessary id's and payment methods, a wipes case, 2 spare disposable diapers at all times, a package of crackers, a few errant gum wrappers, chap stick and a hairbrush.

My mind flutters through memories of first smiles, fits, words, feedings, cereal spills, sneezes, staring at my son while he sleeps, rocking chair giggles, bumps, bruises....

And my heart houses the love that beats & grows in size every second that I spend with my miracle child!

Judgements.

I started this on my Facebook status, as a stray thought, and now that I've given it a little time to percolate I've realized I could really elaborate on it...

Please Don't Assume --

... that just because I wear make-up, I feel ugly without it.

... that just because I am at home with children all day, I am incapable of hacking it in the 'professional' world.

... that just because I chose to pay for fertility treatments instead of my college tuition, that I have no sense.

... that just because I don't live in a mansion or drive a brand new car, I am without luxuries.

... that just because I've lived in the same town all of my life, I am ignorant to world events.

... that because I can smile in the face of adversity, I don't cry behind closed doors.

... that every word out of my mouth is aimed directly at you.

... that just because I am opinionated, I am witchy (with a B).

... that just because your day is jammed packed leaving you without personal time, that you can't still reach out & help in someway.

All in the Family...

Love After Love

by Derek Walcott

The time will come

when, with elation

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror

and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here, Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self.

Give wine, Give bread. Give back your heart

to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored for another, who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,

peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit. Feast on your life.

~

My eldest sister just started her blog: Three Small Men and she is so very gifted in her writing, among her many talents. She must have inherited it from my mother, who blogs over at Texas Trifles.

The talent for putting thoughts into witty words, so to paint a picture in the mind must have been diluted by the time it got down to the 4th daughter. Sadly, I am nowhere near the writers that the other two beauties' blogs I listed are. Actually, I'm fairly certain the last sentence I just wrote could use re-wording and better structure... (however the sound of the television drifting into our tiny, messy & cramped "office" - 'professional wrestling' no less - is making it a bit hard to concentrate, but I'm not much for excuses)

I hope that you, whoever is reading this, enjoys my ladies' musings. Their stories are a treat, so sit down, relax and feast on the genius that is their gift.