Perspective

My life has been a constant pity party lately, but something has happened that stopped me in my tracks. A fellow nestie had triplets in June after suffering from infertility. I follow her blog religiously, so much so that it feels like I know these tiny babies and their parents. Every day it seemed like they were growing bigger and stronger. Yesterday, one of the babies passed away. I can't imagine anything more heartbreaking. The news shook me to the core. It hit me like a ton of bricks that I have everything I need to survive right now: my husband and son. Sweet little Annaleigh has caused me to take step back and realize I'm lucky in the most important ways. Kyle will get a job some day but Brooke and Joe will never hold their precious little girl again. So for now I'm holding on to my precious little boy and thanking God for what I DO have as opposed to what I don't.

Well It Didn't Happen

Schools have started, my husband is unemployed, and I'm still sounding like a bitter and depressed broken record. I keep searching for some kind of lesson in this but so far all I am finding is myself going more crazy by the day. Kyle applied for 15 lab jobs the other night. Hopefully one of those will work out. We'll take pretty much anything at this point.

Sometimes I Forget . . .

. . . the bottom could fall out in a few short weeks. I consider myself a happy person. I've got a sweet, helpful, attentive husband; a little boy that brings me more joy than I ever thought possible, wonderful parents, amazing friends. I enjoy my job, my cats, driving my new car. And then all the sudden--bam!--it hits me. As of right now Kyle doesn't have a job. He gets 2 more paychecks and that's it we're done. I've known this was coming since March. I guess I just kept thinking he'd find something. I started this journey very hopeful. Well, it's August. Schools are starting in a few shorts days. He hasn't found squat.

My heart breaks for him because teaching is his passion and he's darn good at it. My heart breaks for me because the stress of worried about going from 2 incomes to 1 really wears me down sometimes. I'm going to have to pick up the health insurance, at least for the time being and it's infinitely more expensive at my work than what we've had with Kyle's job. I'll have to go back to working full-time which bums me out more than I can say. Sometimes these thoughts creep in my head when I'm trying to sleep and I lay awake for hours.

My optimistic side tells me something will work out because in the past everything has always worked itself out. We've done every "right" ie, got ourselved educated, waited to finish college before getting married, waited to buy a house, waited until we had a house to have a kid. My rational side tells me this isn't necessarily true. There are plenty of people who've lost their job and/or their house that didn't deserve it. I've got people surrounding me telling me "everything happens for a reason" (one of my least favorites phrases). Really?? Tell that to someone who has lost a child or gotten cancer.

So, that's where we're at. Even though the odds are dwindling by the day I am still hoping for a miracle.

Good Vibrations

. . is the best running song EVER. It gets me through my long run every time. 5K here I come!

Tag Team Parenting

From the minute Logan was born Kyle and I have been a parenting team. Actually before he was born. When we took the baby basics class at the hospital we diapered, bathed, and swaddled the doll together. That's pretty much how things have gone for the past 14 months. When I was in the hospital my cousin joked with me she never knew nursing was a team sport when she found Kyle positioning Logan on the boob. I am used to Kyle always being there. Today I went to my BFF's kid's birthday party sans the husband. Oh how I missed him. 2 of my other peeps were there with their kids and hubbies in tow. Oh how I envied them. I am not used to trying to feed myself and Logan without a high chair without that extra pair of hands. And nothing prepared me for the bath of red icing Logan gave not only himself, but me (note to self: NEVER have an Elmo themed birthday party!). Before I had even left BFF's house I was on the phone with my mother. Multiple times I have heard my mother and others say that Kyle is the best dad they've ever seen. I used to kind of get offended (especially when my mother was saying this the day I went through 14 hours of labor--what am I, chopped liver?), but now I just consider myself lucky. Especially since I've already told him his calendar should be cleared for the 2 parties we've got next week.

The Childrens Place

. . .Old Navy, Macy's, Carter's. The list goes on. These are just a few of the places I've gotten clothes for Logan since I bought that Carson Palmer jersey way back in December 2007. I just packed up the rest of his 9m clothes and most of his 12m clothes. He needs about 5 little brothers to wear all this stuff. Despite never paying full price for any of it (I've gotten some really good deals) I can't help but feel like between his closet and the 5 (yes 5) bins full of stuff he's outgrown we've got a nice down payment on a Ford Focus. Oh well. At least he looks good. ;-)

The Curse of the Odd Number

A friend of mine once told me that she only likes even numbers. I think there's something to that. For as long as I can remember as a rule even numbered years were mostly "good" years and odd years were "bad." 2009 is living up to its number. Here's a recap of just a few things that have happened this year:

• January--my car died

• February--our baby-sitter tells us she's knocked up and due at the end of the month, giving us little time to scramble and find a temporary replacement

• March--my husband lost his job

You get the idea. Yet, as down as I've been about these and other situations I can't bring myself to put 2009 in the "Worst Years Ever" category. The reason is simple--my kid. Even if he's in teething hell, tantrum hell, or just being plain onery my little boy makes me smile every single day. No year with Logan can be THAT bad. He brings me a constant joy I've never felt before. So as I'm continuing to muddle through this shit heap that is 2009 and all I want to do is crawl in a hole and cry, I think I'll go have a snuggle with my boy and read "Hop on Pop" for the millionth time.