Take my hand

20 months old and drooling

My baby is a boy. He holds my hand now to pull me where he wants me, and I'm so happy to have the interaction that I go wherever he takes me, even if he pulls on me when I'm lying sick on the couch.

He may not say much ("momom," "dadada," and "up"), but he knows what bedtime means, up, down, happy feet, twirling, milk, water, more, toothbrush, outside, chair, shoes, kitty, upstairs, downstairs, home. He'll do what you ask, if he wants to. Any kind of limit is something worth screaming over.

I love spending time with him, though I never seem to have the energy and muscle to do all that he wants I want -- to keep up and encourage and jump around and pretend. It still aches in my chest each time I leave for work, even as it did when he was five weeks old, but it isn't as painful because he knows his routine as well as I do. He knows when it's time to sleep, time to get up, time to eat, time for mama to leave, time for mama to return.

Time is all I ask out of this life... just more time before I blink and he's a man who no longer wants to take his mother by the hand and lead her off the couch.


Two months of photos are coming soon. For now, this:

6DPO and hoping again

When trying to conceive, everything moves in slow motion. I can only be grateful that it continues to move. One day, and then another, toward possibility.

Today I had the smallest bit of spotting, which I think can only be implantation. Hope, which I'd kept in a back room, is front and center whether I want it there or not. In one week, I'll take a test. One day, and another, and another, toward possibility.

The Sharpest Lives

This is the way to wake up on a Tuesday morning.

Give me a shot to remember
And you can take all the pain away from me
A kiss and I will surrender
The sharpest lives are the deadliest to lead
A light to burn all the empires
So bright the sun is ashamed to rise and be
In love with all of these vampires
So you can leave like the sane abandoned me

My Chemical Romance