You be the daddy and I'll be the mommy.

While talking with my husband the other day, I came to a very interesting discovery.  We were discussing the boys and how our lives had both been so different before they came along.  Not very earth shattering, I know, but I was still curious.

My husband had been living life in the fast lane, and wasn't stopping for nobody.  That is, until boy number one showed up.  He said that at that moment, he knew he had to get his s#%t together.  You know, go back to school, get a better job, start bringing in the cash flow (too bad he went into teaching!). Basically, baby was born and he was going back to work.

When bundle number two was born, I wanted just the opposite.  I wanted to quit my job, stay at home, bake cookies and go to Mommy and Me yoga classes.  I wanted to put my career way back on the back burner and start using cloth diapers!  Instead of going out into the world to provide like my husband, I wanted nothing more than to stay in and provide.

Neither of us had thought of ourselves as subscribers to stereotypical gender roles.  But, there we were, both subscribing!  People always say that having a baby will change your life.  I found it fascinating that my husband and I would want to change, but in exact opposite ways.

In a perfect world, I would get to stay home and watch baby bundle sleep like an angel, while I effortlessly whipped up dinner and got the laundry done. But soon, I will have to go back out into the work world to provide.  Hopefully, I will still have time to learn new lullabies.

Maternal Love is Fierce. I get that now.

So the disaster in Japan has hit me in a way that no other natural disaster has.  Because now, there is a baby involved.  I have spent the last week planning escape routes, filling up our emergency backpacks and generally making myself crazy.  I have had thoughts of strapping the little bundle in the ergo carrier and climbing to the top of the roof to avoid a tsunami.  Not that this would necessarily work, but...it might!

I guess what I am realizing is that this is the fierceness with which a mother loves her child.  I have been glued to the news, the radio and the internet.  I have been monitoring the radiation levels in California on two different websites.  I have been asking questions and talking to anyone who will listen.  I am not satisfied with the mainstream news, or the platitudes coming from our government.  I want the real information.  I want to know when and if I should book a flight to Vermont.

I want only to protect my child.  My baby.  My lifeline.  The thought of something hurting Clayton makes me sick inside. 

At the end of the day, I am blessed because I have the luxury of thinking about what I would do if disaster occurred.  The poor people in Japan did not have this luxury.  I am so thankful for the health of my child, as my heart breaks for mothers across the globe.

Poop. Lots of it.

Little bundle is now going through a phase of major blowouts.  You know, poop up his back, on all his clothes, etc.  I have heard of this happening occasionally.  Something they tell every new parent to be ready for.  I must admit, when I was still pregnant, these "blowouts" seemed absolutely horrifying.  But when I say little bundle is going through a phase of major blowouts, I mean to say that EVERY TIME HE POOPS IT IS A BLOWOUT.  This has been happening for about a week now.  And it is a little horrifying.

I am actually feeling kinda trapped by it.  I really don't want to leave the house in the morning until after IT happens.  Trying to go to yoga -- did the baby poop yet?  How about some grocery shopping -- did the baby poop yet? A little walk on the beach... you get the picture.

But last night had to be the best incident by far.  Baby and Daddy were enjoying some super cute and cuddly bonding time on one couch.  I was on the other couch, face down in the pillows, relaxing for a few well deserved minutes.  Baby was so content, laughing, cooing, playing with his hands and feet.  Dad was super relaxed, enjoying the fact that baby wasn't screaming in protest of sleep, as he was just a few minutes earlier.  I remember thinking, "This is so sweet!  Everyone is so happy!".  After a while, I went to pick up the little bundle and felt a very large, very wet spot, all the way up his back.  He had been sitting in the crook of my husband's arm, and I realized, right away, that if baby had a huge, wet, poopy back, then daddy had a huge, wet, poopy arm.  My husband and I exchanged a quick, knowing look.  Without missing a beat, I placed the baby exactly where I had scooped him up.  Back into my husband's arms.

I went to get Big Brother out of the tub, and lucky Daddy, got to get down and dirty with super baby and his super blowout!

More smiles. Because they are so awesome.

Baby smiles are just delicious.  I can't get enough.  I like them even more than I like ice cream.  And that's really saying something.

My favorite smile right now is the one I get when I am taking a shower.  I have found that Clayton is happiest in his vibrating chair, minus the vibration.  I leave the shower door open just a little bit to be safe (and to totally drench the floor every time!).  Every 45 seconds or so, I peak my head out to make sure the bundle of joy is still having a good time.

Oh man, the smiles I get from this guy! Eyes light up! Arms shake! Feet bounce!  And instead of showing me his pearly whites, he shows me his gummy gums!  And once again, I am totally in love.  And not even craving ice cream!

The Smile of All Smiles

Sometime last year, before I was pregnant, I was feeling down in the dumps.  I was feeling seriously unloved.

My job teaching at risk teenagers was getting me down.  They didn't love me.

My stepson was seriously obsessed with his dad.  He didn't love me.

My cat, who I picked out special when she was a kitten, sat on my husband's lap and gave him sweet kisses, but wouldn't even look at me.  She didn't love me.

Let me tell you, I was in a low, low place.  So much love to give, and not a drop to receive in return!  (Okay, so I might be over exaggerating just a bit here, but you get the picture!).  As I was complaining again to my dear husband about my mass amounts of unrequited love, he told me to "just wait until you have a baby".  He said that baby would love me more than I could possibly imagine.  Yeah right, I thought.  That will never happen - not to me, anyway.  I am destined for sadness!

But oh man, how right he was.  This little baby loves him some mama!  I think it is the most perfect thing to see him smile at me when we wake up in the morning.  Or when I'm changing his diaper.  Or dancing like a maniac in the kitchen.  His smile for me is the thing that dreams are made of!

Oh, and my cat came and sat by my feet yesterday.  Life is good people.  Life is good.