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Sam and I went to Walmart Thursday to look at bicycles (can you believe he'll be eight years old next week?!?!). Anyway...we walked past the baby section and noticed some adorable baby summer clothes.
You know what I was thinking.
Sam said, "Those would look so cute on Baby Liberty (his cousin)."
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Elizabeth McCracken had a great line in her book. "Closure is bullshit." I literally cheered when I read that.
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I commented on Kate's blog that it would be ok...some day. But really...what do I know? Nothing!
I really need to not be such a moron.
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At first, I had a desperate need to have the baby's urn at home. I wanted it on my bedside table...but when we brought it home, I set it on the fireplace in the living room (where it remains).
The other day, I walked past and felt oddly puzzled at the fact that my dead baby's cremains are sitting on my fireplace. It was a living being in my belly not too long ago. Now it's a marble collectible on the mantle next to my son's handmade "World's Greatest Mom" trophy.
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There are these moments that hit me when I literally can not breathe for the weight of everything on me. These moments usually come on as a result of some sensory memory. The feel of the flannel pregnancy pillow set one off. The sound of the shower set another off. Maybe they are mini panic attacks...who knows. I'm sure there is some not-so-deep psychological reason for them that could be treated with the proper talk therapy and pharmaceutical interventions. Whatever. I'm really not interested in being "cured" just yet.
Today's little attack was EASY to see coming.
See, I follow lots of photography blogs. Photographers work A LOT with wedding, maternity, baby and family photos. I'm ok with them. Never had a problem. But today...this post.
That was the nursery decor I wanted. I had (foolishly) put it on our baby registry. I KNOW! With my history, WHY would I make up a baby registry? I KNOW! But I did.
Now I know for sure...
our baby would have been so adorable with Dr. Seuss.
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I stopped at the APL for dog food to feed my herd. Even there, I run into new moms with new babies. I just want to scream sometimes...REALLY?!?!
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I have almost run through my first month supply of wine and ambien.
The sleeping is not going well.
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This should be printed and handed out to friends and family when a baby dies. No nonsense...straightforward...really perfect.
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Who else is tired of hearing me talk deadbaby? I know I am.
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Did I mention my first baby will be EIGHT in a week? I just look at him sometimes (often eliciting a, "What?") and I think how amazing he is. I never imagined I would have this amazing kid. He reminds me of who we used to be...and who we have become...as a family. He is kind and funny and oh-so-smart. We are so lucky to have him in our lives.
He wants a big kid bike for his birthday but I'm not sure I'm ready for the training wheels to come off yet.
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I was just asked, "Can we smell the fart?"
Yeah...it ain't all Hallmark moments around here.
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I really hate the smell of cheerios.
But I guess it's better than farts.
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Did I tell you that I told Sam he would have to participate in a summer reading program and he cried as though I'd just killed a puppy? Yeah. As someone who LOVES to read, I'm having a hard time dealing with this.
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Sometimes I think life would be a whole lot easier if we didn't have all our pets. And then they do something to make me smile...and I still think life would be a whole lot easier if we didn't have all our pets...but it would also be way less fun.
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I worry about my brother even though I know he's an adult and should be able to handle his life without my advice.
I'm also a little sad that we don't have the kind of relationship where he would ask for my advice.
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I need to find a dentist. Then make an appointment. Then have work done on a probable cavity. Then explain why I haven't been to the dentist in 20 years or so. Should be fun.
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The goal of bill collectors is to irritate you until you beg, borrow, or steal the money to get them off your case. It is a form of harassment and should be illegal. Even though I find it endlessly amusing to play with their heads, I don't appreciate the phone calls first thing at 8am and last thing at 8pm.
Student loans. I dare them to repossess my brain...because...they can have it.
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I have been collecting little things here and there to send to a friend. I don't know where I've stored them in the house. I have a gift I intended to send to another friend over a year ago. It's still sitting on a shelf in my closet. I have thank you cards all addressed and stamped and sitting in a bag I usually carry to work (but haven't needed in the last couple of weeks). I'm not so good at this friendship thing...at least as it involves the postal service.
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Last night at checkout...coffee creamer, marshmallows and wine.
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3 comments:
I think cheerios smell like pee.
If I see one more newborn photograph I will scream.
Pictures of babies on shelves or in boxes freak me out. I know too many families who really have to keep their babies there. Although most of the shots are adorable.
Cheerio smell makes me gag, and I think Kathy just explained to me why.
Are you really as tough about the bill collectors as you appear? I so admire that. I got an unjustified letter from one last week and wowzers, I imagined I would never get to own a home, buy a car, send Baby Man to college. I have intense financial phobias left from when I was once home alone at age 12 and the electric company came and shut off our power.
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