Geez, people.  CAN’T OUR MOM BRAINS GET JUST ONE WEEK OFF?!  First the hot chick on TIME breastfeeding her kid, now this.  I feel like I’m about 2.5 seconds away from imploding from the sheer exhaustion of swirling around the media’s porcelian bowl.  On the other hand, this topic totally sparks my interest because we’re in that stage right now where we’re molding our little family, deciding what works for us.

I love Doug & Harrison in unique ways to what they bring to my life.  I love them for the different people that they are.  I love Doug for the strong partner he is & that’s not something Harrison can provide.  But I love Harrison for softness he gives my life & that’s not something Doug can do for me.  If there was a burning fire & I could only save one of them, I’d stand & sob that I couldn’t choose until Doug told me that he wants me to save Harry.

I’d do that because I know that’s what Doug would want, what I would want if it was Doug having to choose, but I wouldn’t be okay with it.

On the other hand, I put Doug first in our family & I hope that Harrison understands & respects that.

When Doug walks in the door, my goal is to greet him.  When Doug needs to talk, I give Harrison an independent activity.  If I’m serving up dinner, I serve Doug’s plate first.  (Doug does the same for me.)  I don’t always do it perfectly & I get distracted & sometimes Harrison is sick & demands my full attention.  Little spurts of life happen, but I try to focus on the bigger picture of our relationships.

I remember as a little girl watching my parents do the same & it never filled me with resentment, but rather a peace knowing that no matter what happened, my parents would be there together.  Their solid marriage was a comfort & coming home was a comfort.

For me, putting our marriage before children says “Hey babe, I know this is rough but I’m on your side.”  Parenting is work. Marriage is work, hard work.  So in the hustle & bustle of coming years, from more babies to new houses & soccer practices, I remind myself that it will all fade soon.  My babies will grow & take on their own life adventures & their own families; once again, it will just be me & Doug.

I don’t want to wonder in 20 years who I’m married to & whether he only liked me because I was the mother of his children.  I don’t want to wish back these years of babies & cling to the past.

I want to look at him & say, “Holy cow.  Look at this life we built together.”

I wonder if it will be his first memory.

I wonder if his first memory has already happened & I pray it’s something wonderful.

Like mine, a Christmas morning when I’m 2 1/2 & in my grandmother’s house with the wood paneling on the living room walls.  When I close my eyes, I still see everything at eye level even though I’ve been in that house since with it’s new owners & painted walls.

Hope you had a wonderful weekend.

xoxo.

]]> http://theheirtoblair.com/2012/05/20/listening-to-music-writing-on-a-sunday-evening/feed/ 5 http://theheirtoblair.com/2012/05/08/a-conservative-christian-against-amendment-one-otherwise-titled-oh-look-its-a-unicorn/ http://theheirtoblair.com/2012/05/08/a-conservative-christian-against-amendment-one-otherwise-titled-oh-look-its-a-unicorn/#comments Tue, 08 May 2012 17:22:17 +0000 heirtoblair http://theheirtoblair.com/?p=9423 I don’t know how many of you live in North Carolina.  Maybe you live in California.

I don’t know if you’re liberal or conservative or Christian or agnostic.  I don’t know whether you put signs in your front yard or prefer to keep quiet about political opinions.

I don’t usually talk about politics or religious theories because I never feel like I know enough .  If you’ve been reading here for awhile, it should not come as a shock to you that I am a registered Republican.  You know that I am a Christian, a Jesus-lover that also adores wine & a properly placed curse word.  I’m still growing up in my faith & political beliefs, know that they are firming & changing as I experience more of life.  But I do believe in love & equality & fairness of citizenship.

Today, North Carolina citizens will vote for or against an amendment to our consitution which will state that one man & one woman form the only legally recognized union in North Carolina.

When I see signs in yards that state “Another family FOR Amendment One!” I wonder if they feel this way because of a religious belief?  If it is solely based upon religious belief, how would they feel if the tables were reversed & the government forced an Islamic or Jewish or Hindu belief upon citizens?  Do they recognize it as prejudice & hate against a group of people?  What is so terrifying about gay marriage when there are children dying of starvation & young men being murdered for race & Britney Spears marries in a Vegas chapel for a few hours?

I believe in Jesus.
I do not believe the government should be ruled by religious agendas.
I believe that the greatest commandment Jesus gave was to love.
I do not believe that the people voting for this amendment in the name of Jesus are exemplifying the love & grace He asks His followers to show.

 I will be voting AGAINST Amendment One.

For more information:
yes for amendment one  |  no for amendment one

Sounds like a bad drug trip, right?

I’ve been waiting almost a year for this bad boy to come out, the sequal to Divergent.  Basically, it’s another distopian society novel that is set in Chicago & everyone is divided into “factions” based on personality.  To me, Tris makes Katniss looks like a pipsqueak (well, book 2 & book 3 Katniss).  I’ve been sitting in the cafeteria/sunshine/office nomming on my lunch while reading it on my Kindle app for the past 3 days.

Next up is the fabulous Scary Mommy, who wrote her first book.  I cannot wait to dig into this one as I have always admired Jill’s incredible way of making motherhood hilarious.  p.s. I am so stoked by all the bloggers coming out with books these days – Kelle Hamptom, The Bloggess, Nie Nie, Jill…

My sister-in-law recommended this author to me at the beach in August 2011.  I ordered this book a few months ago & have yet to pick it up.  Has anyone else read her novels?

Of course the absolutely darling Ree Drummond & her second cookbook.  I’ve poured over the pages & we’ve already made the cauliflower, which was DELICIOUS.

Last up is the peace for my soul, soaking in words of Madeline L’Engle.  She is fast becoming one of my favorites although I wasn’t wild about her books as a child.  While her poetry is like a balm, this book delves into Christians as creatives & artists.  I’m not too far into yet.

What are you reading these days?

This kid, he bear-hug loves his momma.

& his momma loves him back.

I came alive as Harrison’s mother over the past few months.  The doubts & lack of confidence & inability to focus simply shed away & I’m not sure whether it was from the sunshine in the backyard or being the boss of my own day or his incredible tiny grin.   But I came alive in the happiest & most fulfilling way possible, all the way down to my toes until motherhood felt like a calling to my soul.  Driving through town with the windows down & groceries in the backseat, I’d flick my eyes to the rearview mirror & catch Harry’s smile & I would think to myself YES.

Yes, motherhood.

Yes, incredible joy & worthwhile sacrifice & overwhelming love.

Yes, I’ve finally got it.

I’ve always been a little off-beat but I think the oddest thing is that the longer I’m with Harrison, the more I mother, the less tired & overwhelmed I feel.  Two hours can bring me to my knees but three months home can be a balm to the soul where we’ve figured our quirks & my patience surprises me with its ability to simply roll with the tide, even when there’s a gallon of milk on my floor.  To where he’s the beat of my heart & being without him feels like I might as well leave my right arm with him, too.  Here, take my kidney too.

Only three months & already I feel lost without his little arms wrapped around my legs but the penchant is still there to count everything & it’s a private joke that only I know when I lift the second half of my sandwich & think “two” & I smile.  My new boss must think I’m strange & maybe I am, but I’m a momma above all, even with my fingers flying above a keyboard.

That ain’t happening.  My sanity can’t take it & my Twitter stream cannot handle any more LOOK HOW LONG IT TOOK ME TO GET HOME! that they had this past winter.

So to cut back the time by roughly an hour each way, Harrison & I will be living out of suitcases on work nights & then trudging back to our home for the weekends.  Doug will be doing a 50/50 dance of checking on the house & staying with us.  I’m not looking forward to being without my husband so much, but we know it’s temporary.

This is the room I’ll be staying in – one of the guest rooms that has zero of the personality it used to have with college banners & football trophies from when my brother lived in here.  I’ll be moving in my desk & computer & I switched out one of the nightstands for a bookcase (I love having my books close).  The Momma is clearing out space in the closet as I type.  But I’m at a loss as to what to do…I’ll be here 5 nights out of the week without my husband for who knows how long & I am wondering if I should try to bring a little of “us” to this room.  Bring pictures of our little family, use a bedspread from home.

I’ll need to remember to bring over Harry’s favorite bedtime books & toys for the evenings.  I’ll need to leave a post-it note reminding Doug to water the garden every night.  It’s going to be crazy-weird living under my parent’s roof again, except now I’m an adult & it’s so temporary.  Hopefully our house will sell this spring so that we can put all this nasty commuting mess behind us for good.

But for now, I guess I’m moving back to the homestead.

Y’all.

He is risen.

He is risen indeed.

There was no dinner in the oven, the child was shoeless & filthy, toddler bedding was strewn across the living room floor, & my hair was in a top knot with a bandana holding back my bangs.  In short?  We were a hot, hot mess.  If Doug had asked me what I did all day (you know, if he wanted to have his balls for dinner), then I would have simply said that I kept his kid alive for one more day.

Oh, sure.  I had plenty of aspirations including homemade chicken pot pie for dinner & dessert in the oven for the basketball championship game.  When I woke up that morning, I imagined booking an extra hour while the boys did their nightly game of chase in the backyard.  Then reality took over – Harrison slept in a little bit, I took him out for breakfast before we went grocery shopping & he was perfectly behaved the entire morning.  Then he dumped tomato soup on his head & needed a mid-day bath, my laptop battery died, & I found two molars blistering through his gums all before naptime.  We spent the rest of the day “camping” in a Thomas the Train tent & coloring (only making it into the coloring book 50% of the time, RIP Melissa & Doug puzzle).

Nothing that mothers don’t deal with on a regular basis.  Nothing that I didn’t face in the office with other work.  Nothing to complain about or make a fuss over, but just the little things that take away from the moments in the day & I look up & oh my, how is it 5:30pm already?!  I haven’t worked or made dinner or cleaned the house or done anything that leaves a tangible response.

I called my mother the next morning & she reassured me that in her many years at home, she had days like that where the clock flew faster than the to-do list.  & that there were many times where “Honey! The children are still alive!” was worth celebrating.

It was a gorgeous spring night where the flowers bloomed.  I slipped into a little black dress long-forgotten in my closet & curled my hair.  Doug pulled a polo shirt over his head for the first time since…well, I can’t remember.

He tells me I look pretty & I smile.

Sometimes I forget how handsome he is.

Sometimes it takes breaking away from our house to remember how much he does for us & that load of dishes he took care of & how pretty our lawn looks thanks to his hard work.

I like watching him try new beers with dinner & he always teases me until I take a taste, too.  It makes me feel 21 again at Corner Bar – that time when I told him that I could never marry a man that wouldn’t say prayers with my children & now he kneels beside Harry’s bed every night.

I forget how he drives with one hand on the steering wheel & one hand holding mine & I wonder if we’ll be like this in 20 years, 30 years, 50 years.

I forget that we’re more than Momma & Daddy, more than another load of laundry & a “for sale” sign in the front yard.  That the day-to-day can wear us down but our marriage makes that routine feel magical.

But only if I let it.

If I remember the small things that I fell in love with, like the way he gets wrinkles beside his eyes when he smiles or how his idea of a perfect dessert is to swing through Krispy Kreme after an expensive dinner.  If I roll down the windows & pretend for a moment that nothing in this world exists outside of us; we’re still the same ten years later but with a few more pounds & responsibilites.