Jump

It makes you feel good.


Jumping from Wendy Antrosiglio on Vimeo.

Guilt

I've been at this mom thing a while now, seven months actually, yesterday was the first time I let the "mom guilt" get to me. It's not like I wasn't thinking about his first halloween, his inability to actually walk the neighborhood in search of sugary goodness, or even consume it. One tooth isn't going to get him very far into that reese cup and his orthodontist with thank me later. 

Last week the pumpkin bib at the dollar spot seemed just the right bit of festive for your first Halloween. This was all before I walked the Halloween Stroll, the very walk my mother often took my sister and I on each year to get our sugar highs off to a great start. The place was crawling with tots dressed as dragons and fairies and other creatures of the sort. The ones that waddle when they walk and suck the tails of their costumes as their adults shuffle them through the line collecting all the loot they can get their hands on... They are all so cute, even the ugly ones. There really are ugly children. 

That's when it hit me. How could I let my little boy have his first sugar filled holiday pass him up without a costume. It was like I was starving him, oh the neglect. I called my mom and cried... What in the hell has motherhood done to me. I'm getting soft and worse yet it's starting to show. 

And then, after a deep breath I came to my senses and well, got over it. 

1/2

Thursday was Joey's Half Birthday. It was a mama day which made it all the better. We spent the day running the roads, visiting Shay and Nora and Nana T. shopping for things we probably don't need and a trip to Bunny's for one last cone. He's so big. I want to spend every moment I can with him. John taught him to stick out his tongue he's pretty good at it. He licks my face. Wet sloppy kisses, sometimes his nose is cold. I can't get enough. He's napping more. I'm excited and disappointed. I have to leave him while he's sleeping. I hope he knows I'm coming back, I'll always come back. I can't help but daydream about who he will be in the next six months, as a ten-year-old boy, as he graduates college, marries and starts a family of his own. I hope he will always come back.