Deuces

Today is Sayler's Day out With Daddy. Mommy is so happy. Yes, she will miss her baby girl, but she is too busy eating tortilla chips smothered in cream cheese and salsa to be too sad. She is busy watching trashy reality T.V. shows and reading past magazine articles on celebrities who are divorcing, having babies, and in love triangles (most of which aren't true, but mommy doesn't care.) Make no mistake that mommy adores her lil' Saylee, but mommy is also adoring this full day to herself. It's the first. In the past 18 weeks mommy has been by lil' SaySay's side every moment possible.  And the moments away are strictly for work and pumping breast-milk in awkward corners and bathroom stalls. Today, However.... I am doing absolutely nothing. More or less... I think I might do some laundry, but even that seems like a vacation. Ohhhhhhh, my lil' wriggler, How I revel in all your smiles, but let's be honest, you like to get h

A teething baby will make you sleepy, very, very very (*yawn) sleepy.... A teething baby will give herself a headache with her weeping... A teething baby with use any and every opportunity to gnaw on something.  If she can reach it... it will be in her mouth. A teething baby will make you sad that you can't make the discomfort go away. A teething baby will have you reading all about Benzocaine. A teething baby will have you looking in the mirror at a zombie staring back.

Dear dad- I am thinking of you... right now... as I listen to my baby girl coo in her swing beside me. Sometimes when I feel my mind wander and a thought of you crosses my mind, I quickly try to make it go away for fear my eyes will show the disappointment of you no longer being here. I fear losing my breath, and fear having others notice that I am not paying attention to a word they are saying. But in this moment, I remember. 11 years ago today I sat in a hospital. I waited for you to come out of a coma. I was certain it would happen at any time. I had no fear. I did not let the sadness of others around me get in the way of me knowing you would be alright. Better than alright. The way you had always been. I knew you would laugh at everyone for worrying, and then you would tell us how the doctors had it all wrong and wanted you to stay another night, But "No", you would tell them.  "I'm leaving today."  And they wouldn't argue