Just pics

Since last post was picture-less, here are some recent phone pics of my most favorite subject.

Within arms reach.

Today was our march. It was cold. It was raining. I decided a few weeks ago I wasn't going to walk the whole walk. I knew my body couldn't take it at 36 weeks. And I was right. Aside from the weather I would have been miserable. So I came before the walking started to thank my team for coming and braving the elements all for my Henry. I wore his bracelet around my ring finger and snapped some photos of the event.

Where we were standing it was hard to hear the speakers during the opening ceremony. As I walked through the crowd to get closer and take some photos, I heard them recognizing the top family teams from last year. As I heard them say Team HPB was the top family team, I didn't cheer or shout as other teams had. With my camera to my eye I pretended to take photos as the tears came. I stood in the crowd of strangers trying not to be a complete mess and so proud. Proud that my sweet boy who never breathed a breath of life was the reason over $8,000 was raised last year and almost $6,000 this year. Proud that since he came into our lives, he has pushed us to raise almost $20,000 for the March of Dimes. Maybe it was partly due to pregnancy hormones. Maybe it was tears of exhaustion which come frequently these days. Maybe.

But maybe it was the fact that it caught me off guard. Maybe that I was standing alone. I tend to prefer it that way. Dealing with life while standing alone, knowing my support only a few steps away if I needed it. Stubbornly resisting the urge to ask for help and pushing myself to be strong. Stronger. Strongest. I know that might be incredibly frustrating to my friends and family. But that's me.

As Sam has settled into the new house, he has slowly gone back to his normal independent ways. It took a few weeks, but he will now go to the playroom by himself. He will bring Daisy upstairs with him and color me a picture while I'm downstairs doing something else. He will bring the picture to the upstairs area that opens to the landing hold it up with a big smile while I tell him how great if is and how we will hang it up for Dada to see when he gets home from work. The independence upstairs lasts a few minutes then he is ready to come downstairs to me again. He prefers me at arms reach most of the time so his moments of bravery are bittersweet for me. I'm proud of him and his growth. And I'll hold a little tighter when I can knowing he is becoming my sweet and determined little boy. Who happens to be very good with his drawings. Or is it "markerings" when you use those fat markets that only color on the special paper? Oh well, you get it.

As I was thinking about the day tonight, I moved our Moses basket and rocking stand into our bedroom. Booger will be here in (likely) less than 4 weeks. And while Sam is venturing slowly further from my reach, I know Booger is going to need me close. And, surprisingly, I find myself needing him close already. Needing to be his support. Needing to be able to calm his cries or fill his tummy or wrap him tightly in a snuggle. Although I still have a sense of terror when I think about life with 2 boys, that feeling of being needed provides me comfort and soothes the fears just a little bit.

The day where I hold him for the first time is also within arms reach. And knowing that provides me a tiny bit more healing. The Henry wound on my heart patched a bit more by Booger just as it was by Sam over two years ago.

So maybe that's why the unexpected tears came today as I heard our recognition. Knowing I am still healing. Knowing I still remember. Knowing everything that makes my heart as whole as it will ever be is right at my finger tips. And knowing I need to reach out and hug it all very tightly. And not let go.

Quietly Home

Over two weeks ago we officially bought our house. They gave us keys and the garage door opener (a HUGE deal since I've had off street parking for the last 8 years!!) and we signed a few papers and it was ours. A few other things had to happen, but thats the simplified version. :) That night, I got to spend a few hours in the house by myself. We didn't move everything in until the next day, so it was just an empty unfamiliar house that had a big yard full of grass begging to be mowed. I sat on the front porch for a while just listening. I couldn't hear horns honking. I couldn't hear heels clicking. I couldn't hear the 4pm rush of people walk past as they made their way to the homeless mission down the street. There were no sirens, no buses, no cell phone conversations I couldn't help but over hear. No clouds of cigarette smoke lulling past. It was quiet. It was peaceful. It was perfect. The only sound I could hear was the wind. I had forgotten that the wind even made noise. My head has been clogged with all those other noises for so long I didn't even realize I missed the sound of the empty branches brushing each other as the wind danced through them. Soft sounds took over the very hard sounds I was so used to. And I felt home.

I had a LOT of fun living in the city. I moved there for the same reason any other new college graduate - the bars. I might have told my parents it was because it was closer to work - and in fact it was - but really it was for the fun and life of it all. The same reasons which made me so ready to leave the city were exactly what drew me there to begin with. I was once the loud mouth with clacking heels and cigarettes on my way to and from the bar 3-4 nights a week. I was at every event, every happy hour, so many concerts and festivals. For a while there was a part of me that thought I would miss that. But it's been so long since  doing those things felt right I don't think I will.

Within minutes of listening to those branches in the wind, I knew. This was my home. The home I've been waiting for. I've had apartments, dorm rooms, couches to crash on, other peoples houses to live in. But I haven't had a home since mine burned down in front of my on March 12, 1998. The void has been filled. I think I knew it before that moment on the front porch. When we saw the house, I immediately began planning where things would go. I envisioned Sam and Booger playing in the yard. I began to tell Sam bedtime stories about a boy named Sam and his dog named Daisy and their adventures in the woods. I knew it then. The wind just made it official. Well, that and the keys.

To say Sam loves it here would be an incredible understatement. He just runs from room to room with a slobbery smile. He comes and takes my finger (or if I'm lucky sometimes Phil's finger) and drags me outside for what could be hours of endless fun with bubbles, balls, and all those things he has been missing. My favorite moment so far has been going outside after dinner with Sam, Phil and Daisy. Daisy tends to run around like a maniac but the freedom of being off leash brings her joy you can see in her smile (which is almost as slobbery as Sam's). Sam and Phil blow bubbles. Sam cracks up when one pops on his nose or if it happens to land on Dadda's, well that's even funnier. I said to Phil, "It doesn't get much better than this does it?" His smile was big and answered my question without a word needed. We finally have what we have been missing. The closeness of family, both his side and my side (although I hate to say "side" since we really are all one). To have my uncle and Dad come by with truck loads of trees and shrubs unexpectedly simply because they wanted to help and know that our yard is in need of some landscaping. To have my aunts drop by and put away the kitchen or bring lunch or flowers. To have my sisters offering in anyway to help. My parents watching Sam while we get things organized. To know Sam will be closer to his grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins. It all makes my heart happy. Grandpa is pretty much his favorite person on earth and I'm so excited that Sam will have the closeness to him that I had with my own grandfathers - who were just as important to me.

Sam quickly settled in. The first outing we took, he waved as we turned out of the driveway and said "Bye home." (Well actually he said "die, home" but thats just how his bye's come out.)

So here are a few (a lot) of photos from the last few weeks. Some are from our last days in the city, and the rest are our first days in the new house. A mix of film and digital shots.

Sam's learning how to use the light meter on himself.  

had to get some final "on the stoop" pics before we went from Hons to Hicks.  

Daisy is psyched to have a bed by a low window again. She stalks "our" groundhog. 

Sam's adapted to country life, with a little help from John Deere.

It takes a few hours to do, but Phil's already mastered the art of mowing the lawn.

When Grandpa's truck pulls in, the squealing and jumping up and down begins.

The early morning view out our bedroom window . . .  

our BIG front yard...