The Fam

Hey, Charlie.

This is the first blog-letter I’ve written to you, and I’m sorry that I haven’t done it before. Lots of other mom-bloggers write letters to their kids, but I haven’t felt the urge to do it until now. Maybe it’s because you’ve finally gotten to the point where I feel like I can have a small conversation with you, and maybe it’s because I’m starting to get glimpses into your little personality . . . glimpses of the kind of person you’re going to grow to be.

Now that you’re expressing your opinions on things, and telling me what you want or how you feel, I’ve come to the realization that you and I only have a few short months of “just-you-and-me-time.” It’s like I’ve gained this new little friend right at the end of the school year, and we’ve only got the summer until it’s time to add new duties and responsibilities to our lives.

Don’t get me wrong; your new brother or sister is going to be a wonderful change . . . but it will definitely make our world a different place. I want to make sure I give the best of myself to you these next few months, or at least make sure you know how heart-squeezingly important you are to me.

You’re just a little guy, but I can see already that your personality is going to be enormous. When you’re in the mood, you can be the biggest ham. You make your goldfish crackers dance to the music we’re listening to, make me imitate your funny faces, and can do a spot-on imitation of your Grandma and Grandpa Blessing’s dogs. All of these things are made more magical by the other side of your coin; that quiet, hard-thinking, problem-solving boy . . . the boy who will search fiercely for that one, missing piece of puzzle, or will fiddle with a new toy until he knows how to work it perfectly.

My favorite part, though, is how sensitive, honest, and kind you are. When that boy at the park hurt himself, you shuffled up to him and petted his arm with a concerned little “Okay?” You two weren’t even playing with each other; you simply wanted to make sure he was alright. You love helping. One of the things that most brings a grin to your face is being able to help me or your dad. “Help you, Daddy?” “Need help, Mommy?” I’ll admit that your helping doesn’t really speed any projects along, but it sure makes them more worthwhile.

I love watching you play with your daddy. It’s like he’s got a little cartoon version of himself to help him build towers and draw pictures. You can both be so serious, and at the same time so goofy. I’m just thrilled to see you turning out like your dad . . . he is one of my favorite people ever, you know.

I love seeing all of these things in you, because I know that you’re going to grow to be a really cool guy. When I watch your Grandma Bonk talk to your dad, I think, “Wow, he used to be a little toddler, too.” That means that she loved him just as much as I love you, and someday, you and I are going to be hanging out together as adults, talking about things other than circles and race cars. I don’t know about you, but that kind of blows my mind a little bit.

Even though I’m excited to watch you grow up and develop preferences and passions, I’m pretty happy to just spend my days with you . . . talking about colors and shapes. Nobody says “PINK!” quite like you do.

So, yeah, things are going to get pretty different around here in a couple of months, but I’m not nearly as worried about it now as I was. I’ve been watching you grow and mature so quickly, and I know that you’re going to be an awesome big brother. You handled all of our chaos this summer like a trouper, and I think you’ll do just the same when we add this new baby to our little team.

Your dad and I love you, Mr. Charlie Warlie, and don’t you forget it.

Well, not sitting in frying pans. That actually doesn’t happen as much as you think it would. I just wanted a cute lead-in picture.

I was going through pictures the other day, and discovered a recurring gesture from Charlie. Is he . . . conducting an imaginary orchestra? Chortling with grand sophistication at someone’s snappy wit? Either way, it’s cute.

Ohmygoshguysitfinally
happenedWEGOTAHOUSE!

Finally. Finally. The light at the end of the tunnel is not a mirage, and it’s not a lit cigarette butt. I can see the world outside and it looks miraculously like a 3 bedroom house with a fenced in backyard and a washer and dryer.

Sure, we’re just renting, but I’ve got a feeling that this is going to be Home. Perhaps, maybe, a home that we will live in for more than . . . gasp . . . a whole year!? Now that would be pretty awesome. We still probably won’t be back in the big city for another couple of weeks, but that’s not a big deal. It’s happening, it’s official, and I am so incredibly happy.

I’ve got plans, guys. Oh, I’ve got plans. These plans involve the reinstatement of a beloved weekly outing with a friend, cooking an enormous dinner for my aunt and uncle, many playdates for Charlie (and me), and the most EPIC KARAOKE REUNION EVER.

The other plans won’t be nearly as fun, but they will definitely be rewarding. Having a house means that we will have room. We won’t need to stuff our closets so full of crap that we don’t know where anything is anymore. With a good amount of work, we’ll be able to have a very effective, functional home. That sounds super boring, but for someone as disorganized as me, I am really looking forward to not being a crazily scattered lunatic. (We’ll see how that goes.) A house is going to be a lot of responsibility in terms of keeping it clean and organized, and I don’t know if you know this about me, but I am not the Queen of Motivation when it comes to housework.

All of this sounds ridiculous to be thinking about, but Paul and I have only ever lived in apartments. We’re going to have a lot more space, and I want to use it well. If any of you are super-organizers, I’d love to hear any spectacular tips you’ve got stored up in yo’ brains.

I’ve also got a new plan of attack forming in my brain for decorating. If you’ve been reading for awhile, you know that I am decoratively deficient. For some reason, I always buy a group of stuff all at once, try to make it look the way it does in my head, get disappointed, and give up. This usually results in 23 spray-painted picture frames sitting in various “I-swear-I’m-going-to-finish-it” places around the house. This time, I’m going to be a collector. Going for a general theme doesn’t seem to work, so I think it’s time to just find stuff I like as I go along and see where it will look good.

Thoughts? Is that a terrible idea? Or . . . is it brilliant?

Do you guys have any moving-in tips for us? Anything to help keep us organized and sane would be ideal. 🙂

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be jumping up and down repeatedly while spinning in circlesand singing something peppy from the 80’s. Let’s all hope I don’t puke.

Who am I kidding? I’m so happy right now, I’d probably just grab a mop and make up a catchy jingle about cleaning up puke.

I have literally written 3 different versions of this blog post and none of them have felt right.

The first one was pretty funny, but entirely too negative and snarky.

The second one, in an attempt to make up for the previous negativity, was way too shiny and glossy. It just wasn’t real. The third one was okay. It wasn’t bad, but it still didn’t feel right. I’m hoping this one will make the mark.

The Bonks are pregnant.

(!!!!!)

Since almost every one of my readers gets here through Facebook, this is old news . . . but I simply have to write an announcement post, don’t I? I think I do.

So why’s it been so hard? Aren’t we excited? Why would the very first post I write about it be the most negative? What is wrong with me?

It’s just been a long summer. Really, that’s my best explanation. That, and hormones . . . and that’s nothing to sneeze at. Those of you who know me well know that I will cry at something as silly as the opening credits of a Harry Potter movie ( . . . come on though, the theme song and the clouds and the anticipation . . . it’s emotional.) and that’s completely sober and un-pregnant. Now, imagine that same person DRUNK on pregnancy hormones. You can imagine that it would be very teary-eyed and super-snappy and sometimes just plain terrifying.

Now, add the whole “no home, living with parents, lots of driving, blehhhhh” situation, and you’ll just get a giant ball of mess.

It can be kind of hard to let yourself get really excited about something really big when everything else is just not working out.

Today is different, though. This last weekend I had to go to Urgent Care because of an unpleasant pregnancy-related symptom and got something that made the whole trip totally worth it. The spectacular woman who was my nurse/doctor for the entirety of my childhood and high school career was working, and gladly did a quick Doppler check to hear a heartbeat. Since I had to push my 18 week appointment back to the same day as another appointment (because of the whole having to drive 900 hours for a 20 minute checkup), I’ve been quietly getting worried. That month in between heartbeats can start to get nerve-wracking, and adding another 2 weeks onto it really didn’t make me happy.

But none of that matters anymore, because I got to hear that our baby is chillin’ like a villain. What that also means is that all of the other stuff that is worrying me just isn’t all that bad. Because we’ve got a healthy little heirloom tomato (that’s how big he/she’s supposed to be right now) growing and moving and generally being awesome.

That’s definitely something to jump around about.

(And then sit down because jumping is hard right now.)

I wrote this 2 nights ago and finally got it up, in case you were wondering why I keep saying “tonight” when it’s probably noon or something…

I’ve come to the decision that anyone who has a bad day should go find a sleeping toddler.

And by that I mean they should find some friends who have a toddler, get their permission, and snuggle up next to the sleeping tiny person. Or, better yet, they should offer to babysit so the parents can go on a late-night date, and thensnuggle the sleeping tiny person. (Again with the snuggling permission.)

What I’m trying to say is that I just spent about 30 minutes snuggled up next to my little toddler, and after a fairly crappy, crappy night, I was able to just calm myself the frick down and realize that everything is okay. . . or at least it will be.

It’s pretty obvious that I haven’t written a blog post in a while, and that’s because this summer has been pretty hellacious. I’m sure I’ll blog about it eventually, but these past few months have left me in a generally bad mood, despite the fact that we’ve got some really exciting things to be happy about.

Nobody wants to read post after post of someone’s perpetual bad mood.

But tonight I’ve been snuggling my toddler and smelling his hair, and listening to his breathing change while he falls asleep. I’m pretty lucky.

Arguments can be fixed. Situations are not going to suck forever. Eventually we will have all the things we need and want.

But for right now, we have this curious little ball of fire who gives sweet, tiny kisses, and has just started saying “I love you.”

Sure, the kisses may come after you get a flailing elbow to the throat, but they’re some of the best kisses ever, and it’s high time I start appreciating them more.

It’s been a frazzly couple of weeks around here. I wrote a post a couple of days ago that was a huge downer, and talked about how I couldn’t get motivated to do anything productive.

Luckily, I couldn’t even motivate myself to actually get that one posted. It really was a bummer.

Yep. The last couple weeks of school around here have been stressful, the house has been a mess, and tempers have been short. There’s not much that can be done about it other than trying to stay positive. SO, I thought it would be a better idea to share an activity that kept Charlie occupied for almost an hour and a half. I got all the dishes washed, and both the kitchen and living room cleaned. It was awesome.

I used a pair of scissors to punch out some holes in the bottom of an egg carton. And then I gave Charlie some marbles.

He totally dug it. He’d set all of the marbles on each hole, and then punch them through. Then he would get them out and do it all over again. And over and over and over. This is what we in the Mom business call a pretty huge success.

Then a couple marbles got loose. This is how we both discovered that our kitchen floor is uneven. Charlie loved watching the marbles roll to the end of the table. I decided to try to add another 15 or 20 minutes on to this and built a little retaining wall.

Once I could tell he was starting to get bored again, I went and grabbed his little race track thing. This added another 25 minutes onto this glorious, glorious playtime.

I’ve learned that playtime is more successful when elements are gradually entered into the equation. If I would have given him all of that stuff at once, he would have had fun for about 15 minutes and then started throwing marbles into the ceiling fan.

And with my luck the marble would have gotten knocked my direction and lodged next to my eardrum.

Also, quickly, I learned that finger painting only looks horrible and stressful. Charlie had a great time and the clean-up was surprisingly quick and easy. I just picked him up by the armpits and put him in the tub. Overall, I’d say it was quite the success.

How’s your week going? Stressful? Awesome? Do you have other awesome toddler ideas to share? Do you know of any toddler activities that come automatically with a chocolate bar and a foot rub?