Joshua and His Daddy

When Joshua was first born everyone told me that because he was a boy, my time was limited with him. That one day, he would end up worshiping the ground his daddy walked on, and I would be but a distant memory. Not that I wouldn't hold a special place in his heart, but I wouldn't have a little shadow anymore. I am starting to see that now.

When Joshua was an infant, he wanted me in the daytime and daddy in the evening. It was like the moment Jamey came in the door from work, Joshua actually was all about his daddy. I don't know if it was because I still hadn't come into my own as a mom really (that didn't happen in full force until Joshua started walking at 10 1/2 months - another blog story for another day) or if it was just he was sick of me by then or what. I was actually afraid he would never bond with me at all. But then it was almost as if a switch was turned. And it was all about mom. . .

We even went through a time where Joshua didn't want his daddy to put him to bed, brush his teeth, kiss his boo boos etc etc etc. It was hard for Jamey to go through this time and even now we still have nights where Joshua wants mommy to take him an extra night. And although part of me didn't like to see Joshua always wanting me, there was another part of me that loved it. I mean, what mom wouldn't?

But now as Joshua is getting older, I see hints of it changing. Joshua loves to play with his daddy. He almost always wants to be where Jamey is when he is doing projects, etc. He can't wait for him to get home at night. He likes drinking Gatorade like his daddy, and eating his Cliff bars, and biking with no training wheels etc, just like Daddy. And there are nights where it's my turn to put Joshua to bed, and he asks for Daddy instead.

The most recent project was Jamey building Joshua's treefort. When Joshua saw it, I just kept hearing him say over and over again, "Oh thank you Daddy for my tree fort." He was in awe of his daddy and it was so adorable it almost left me breathless. Joshua helped him finish that project for 3 days. His play tools haven't made it back in yet for all the "building" he helped do. And when I would peek out, I would see the two of them out there, building, snacking, and sharing all kinds of secrets. It is one of the best memories I have to date of Joshua and his daddy.

As he gets older, I assume I will see him do more with Jamey. He will ask for Jamey more than he will for me. And not that I won't be special, but it is a natural part of a boy growing up into a (gulp) man. The thought is amazing and terrifying all at the same time. I often ponder how I will feel, when that transformation is complete. Will I be hurt? Or will I feel a little thrill of freedom? My guess is maybe I will feel a bit of both of these. And that is ok. I have to let my boy grow up to be a man.

My New Haircut

Oh blog I have missed you so!!!!!! And to my grand following of two - my sincere apologies. We were out of town over the weekend, and then I had a catch up day yesterday. It's funny, I really did miss writing the past three days. I thought I might find time yesterday and was really itching to come on and blog, but the opportunity just never materialized. Oh well. On to other things now. . .

I got my hair cut on Saturday right before we left for Leesburg. I still can't decide if I like it or not. However, it doesn't really matter right now because this is one of those "transition" cuts. I am growing my hair out. It's supposed to be an updated shag cut. I think I look a little like Dorothy Hamill. I think her hair was cut in a wedge, so I supposed the updated shag is actually an old wedge cut.

I am never happy with my hair. Well that's not true. It's not that I am not happy with it, but I just get bored. I grow it out. Then I cut it short. Then I grow it out. Then I cut it short. Then what do I do? You guessed. Boy are you all smart. I generally bond really well with all my haircuts and I'll keep them for a year or two, but then I get bored again and pore through haircut magazines all the while itching to go in and tell her to cut it all off (or cancel all my appointments for the next year - whichever the case may be). I generally end up with no picture and me trying to tell her I just want something different.

I had one of those "Posh Spice" bobs for quite a while. But then I realized that whenever I grow my hair out long, I always end up with a bob. So I look like I never changed my hair from when I was in high school. And that annoys me greatly so I go on a quest to find a long hair cut that I like. And I still end up with a bob. This time I am trying a longer shag. So I will wait as long as possible (like 12 weeks) to get my hair cut again.

I also always go back and forth on whether or not to color my hair. (OK. I bet I am boring all of you now, but I've come to far on this blog to stop writing, so I will try to think of a better topic next time - promise). My mom and my grandmother both greyed beautifully. And I am greying the same way. However, I have a four year old boy. I don't want people to mistake me for his grandmother. But I also don't want to be in the horrible pattern of having to continually color my hair. I have opted for color at the next hair appointment. And then we'll see. . .

I am the annoying person who wants a beautiful hair cut, but I don't want there to be any maintenance on it (i.e. no regular trims for me please), nor do I want to have to "do" a lot to it to make it look nice. Do you know how limiting that is? I also always want to have "the latest and greatest" in hair, but I never seem to really know what the latest and greatest is. So I end up with a bob.

The one thing that is annoying about my own head of hair is that I have a lovely cowlick. Right at my front hairline. So guess what that means? No bangs. May I just say - BUMMER. Really. There's a girl in my neighborhood now who has gorgeous hair and it was long and then she cut really cute thick bangs in, and I was so jealous. I am still a little jealous when I see her. I might have to tell her so. It's just not fair.

So I think what I might start doing on here is, after every new hair cut, I will take a picture and post it on here. We will count how many times I really do change my hair style. It will either astound us all, or it will completely negate this entry in my blog. What do you think?

Mom & Dad's House

Joshua and I are at my mom and dad's house today. It has now become better known as MiMi and PaPa's house. But we are here because Joshua wanted to tell MiMi he would miss her when we head to Leesburg tomorrow to visit friends. And really, I will use just about any excuse to come and visit my parents.

Even though this is not the house I grew up in, I always feel right at home. Not that I am not relaxed and happy in my own home, but I guess because I have always had a close relationship with my parents, there is just something about coming "home" to my mom and dad that feels right and good. I recognize that not everybody gets to experience that feeling, so I count myself very lucky.

Joshua and I usually try to find an excuse to come once a week. I am a little sad because when preschool starts again in September, we won't be able to do that anymore. Joshua will be going to school five days a week and I will hopefully be substituting there as often as I can. We came almost every Thursday this past year while he was in preschool three days a week. So I will miss that weekly visit with my mom and dad starting in the fall.

I think I partially find it a bit relaxing because Joshua finds PaPa to be one of his best playmates ever. I am amazed at how good a sport my dad is with Joshua. He gets down on the floor with him and plays "car lot" for hours and hours with Joshua. It gives me and my mom time to run out and run a few errands here and there, and even when we return Joshua wants nothing to do with either of us. It's all about PaPa these days. We will try to go into the room where they are playing and Joshua will let us in there for a minute or two and then he'll say, "OK you can leave now." And we leave laughing (and I feel a smidgen of hurt too) ;o) But I am so glad that Joshua loves playing with his PaPa and I hope he remembers it forever.

Jamey occasionally will have a "Daddy weekend" and I get to come here to my mom and dad's home for "Mommy weekend". I think we all like these weekends (Well Jamey, Joshua and I do anyway!). Jamey gets to be Joshua's whole world for an entire weekend. And I get to come home and be two things - 1. a kid again. And 2. I get to be Carolyn.

It's a similar feeling to when I am writing on this blog. I get to think about stuff other than what to have for dinner, and did I brush Joshua's teeth this morning, and is he sniffling today, and I think I forgot to get his favorite yogurt at the grocery store, and what am I going to do to entertain him today??? I get to get up when I want. I get to drink coffee while it is still hot (or before the ice melts in the summer). I get to run if I want. My mom will either make me a nice homemade meal, or since she has gotten so good at eating out, will take me out for a nice meal. I get to think about nothing else but me for a little while. All moms need that I think. I think my mom could make a killing doing that as a business. A little getaway time for moms. . .

But I really do love coming here. I realize now as I've gotten older that my tactic of not keeping track of how old my parents are is not working like it used to (I have thought they were both 40 for the last 20 years - total denial) and that just as I am getting older, so are they. And that really stinks. But it's also life. So I will come here as many times as they will let me because I love them very much and I want to soak up every little bit of them that I can while they are here.

I Had a Really Good Post and Now I Can't Remember

I hate my memory. It never serves me well. I can't remember names. I can't remember places. I can't remember how to get to the places that I can't remember. I can't remember so many things I am supposed to do.

Jamey got me a crackberry (I mean blackberry) in order to help me stay organized and to keep track of appointments and all that kind of stuff. Except I forget lots of times to put them in the crackberry. So then I still forget. Our friend Richard once said that blackberries are really only good tools for people who are already organized. I believe it and wholly concur.

When I do remember to actually add something to my calendar, it is at least helpful to have the crackberry because it will remind me. Twice. I have to be reminded the day before and an hour before or I still might forget. That is how bad my memory is.

And so I'm really serious when I sit here and say I had something really cool I was going to write about today and now I can't even remember what it was. How sad is that? Instead because I can't think of anything else (I blame the continuing vertigo on my inability to concentrate properly), I have to write about my poor memory.

What was even worse was when I got pregnant with Joshua, my memory really went haywire. And it has permanently stayed that way. I think having a child is a bit to blame (not that I would change anything), because now, not only do I have to remember a bunch of stuff for myself, I have to remember a bunch of stuff for Joshua too. My brain can only hold so much. So a bunch of it falls to the wayside.

I will say it is hardly ever something for Joshua that I forget. I put all his stuff in front of my stuff all the time. For instance, he had a dentist appointment this morning. I made sure that he was there - early even. But did I remember my dentist appointment last week? Nooooo. And if Joshua asks me where a toy is, or where one of his stuffed animals is, or did I remember to get him yogurt at the grocery store, I can almost always remember. But can I find my keys? Or my cell phone? Or my favorite shirt? Noooooo.

My brain picks the craziest things to remember. When I pull out Christmas decorations each year, I can tell you where we got it or who gave it to us, and probably even when it was given to us if it was a gift. I can still remember what things in our home were wedding gifts and who gave them to us. I can tell you where all of Joshua's toys came from and how old he was when he got them. But I can't remember that I have a haircut on Saturday even though I have a crackberry with the appointment on it. (I really do have one and I can't wait. I am sick of my hair. The reason I know it is on Saturday is because I thought I'd look at the above mentioned crackberry since I started writing about my poor memory. Plus they called with a reminder this morning).

So maybe one day, once this vertigo finally clears up, maybe I will try to find a way to work on my memory. Or maybe I won't. Cos I'll probably forget!

My Upcoming Triathlon

Why did I sign up for a triathlon? In AUGUST? What was I thinking? Why didn't I go preview the course before I decided to sign up for this race? Don't I know how hot it is going to be in August? I just KNOW my bike is trying to kill me. . .

These are just a few of the thoughts that continuously run through my head as I trudge to the gym every (other) day to work out and try to prepare as best I can for this race. Half the time I find myself driving over with the excuse that I might run errands after I work out, but really it's just because it is so stinkin' hot that I can hardly stand it. I want to stay cool as long as possible.

One of the reasons I signed up was because it is only open to female competitors. I don't know why I thought that was so cool. If I am competing against all women, the top competitors - whether they are male or female - will kick my behind. And let's be honest. The top competitors will be willing to mow me down in the pool, on the bike, or during the run with no hesitation. They will leave me in a crumpled heap on the side of the road (if my bike doesn't first). Don't get me wrong though - I didn't sign up thinking if it were an all female race I'd have a chance of winning. But just because it's all women participants doesn't mean they all will be really nice and polite. It is still a race. And there are some mighty competitive women out there.

I also signed up because I thought it was really cool that all the volunteers are male volunteers. And how fun is that to have men at your beck and call, right? Except they won't really be at your beck and call. All they are there for is to hand out race packets, be course marshalls, hand out some water, and if you are lucky, call your name out to congratulate you as you cross the finish line. It's not like they are going to disentangle me from my bike when it tries to murder me as I ride the bike course (btw - Do you all sense a slight sense of fear about my bike? More on that in a minute). It's not like they are going to stop me and give me a manicure/pedicure/massage treatment because they see I am a little tired during the run (and give me a nice glass of wine and some chocolate with that). Plus, it's all "male volunteers". Nowhere does it say they have gotten all "Chippendales dancers" for their volunteers.

Now the lovely bike issue. I have maintained for many years that my bicycle is trying to kill me. If you have ever seen the Calvin & Hobbes cartoons where the relationship between Calvin and his bike is depicted, then you know exactly what I am talking about. If you haven't, you must find any and all of that series and you will understand. It is hysterical (to everyone except Calvin and me). Part of the problem has been alleviated in that I am not doing the whole "clipless pedals" thing for this triathlon. But I still have a definite love/hate relationship with the bike (mostly hate). About the only really cool thing about my bike is that it is a very pretty color scheme with some pink in it. Very girly and cute. And I have a matching helmet. But if all you can say good about your bike is that it is cute, that's not too much.

I used to be able to work out all day long in the heat. This year apparently has been the turning point for me. If I walk outside to work out and it is hot (and when hasn't it been this past summer?), I just about melt into a pool of sweat before I leave my driveway. I have had more days where I've bonked and had to quit this summer than I care to mention. And that was when I was just running. So this does not bode well for me in AUGUST.

All this said, am I going to give it my best shot? Yes. Am I going to finish even if I have to walk the whole run course (and maybe part of the bike course?) Yes. Why? Because I signed up. I paid my money. And I will finish it even if it takes me 3 hours. I don't really care in the end because at least I am getting out there and trying. Do I have goals? Uh huh. But it won't really matter in the end whether I reach those goals or not. I can always make brand new goals up while I am on the course. (I will swim like a dolphin for fun on this length since I am so tired. I will set my bike on fire when I get home for throwing me off like that. I will run to that mail box that is three feet in front of me and then start walking again. I think I will sit on the curb here in the slight shade of this nice crepe myrtle for 5 minutes and start again). But the ultimate goal to finish will always be there. And it will happen too!

Ugh. . .

So last night, as you know, we went to the Richmond Braves game. I am happy to report that, in fact, there are flying squirrels in the State of Virginia. I am unhappy to report that we lost the game. I think it was 5-0. Bummer.

I didn't notice though because I was too busy chatting and complaining that they didn't have chipwiches. I mean, what ball field does not provide chipwhiches? Instead they have ice cream in little plastic ball hats. Don't they get that's too messy? I saw bunches of people with ice cream melting all over the little hats. Chipwiches are much neater as the ice cream is sandwiched between two chocolate chip cookies. And they are so tasty that you eat them very fast and then you don't have time to get messy. Plus you eat more. They could probably keep the team afloat with no sponsors/advertisers at all if they sold chipwiches. I'm just sayin'.

Plus I had a deal with Jamey that I wouldn't talk about Cal Ripkin and his perfect attendance award (i.e. I wouldn't talk about baseball like I knew what I was talking about, when in fact, I don't. Otherwise I would've known it was "Most Games Played". Big deal.) and I wouldn't scream at the players to "kick 'em in the jimmy" (i.e. We were not at a hockey game and plus it wouldn't look good in front of the clients that Jamey and his partner, Hal, were trying to entertain.) If I wouldn't have done these two things, I was supposed to get a chipwich.

I looked Jamey right in the face and told him all deals were off when I found out they didn't have chipwiches. Then Jamey has to ruin my fun and point out that we were sitting in the lower level at third base and that there was no glass separating us from the players like there is in hockey. So I sat and sulked for a while. But when other people booed bad calls, I promptly stopped chatting and started booing with everybody else. Loudly.

Jamey tried to make it up to me. I told him at one point to go get me something good. He came back with - funnel cake. Not really what I had in mind. So I booed even louder at the next bad call.

And I just want to complain about something else this morning. So here we are sitting on the lower level at third base when Jamey announces that if there are left handed hitters we may have baseballs coming our way. Now Jamey knows I can't catch worth a hoot. One time he even warned me he was going to throw a raw egg to me to catch (in my mom's kitchen even) and I told him I wasn't going to catch it. I mean I told him and everything. And I didn't. I didn't even try because I know how bad a catcher I am. And so it splatted all over the floor. (My mom still blames Jamey for that - HA!) Anyway, so the first left handed batter comes up (there were a lot if them) and I hold up my program and some magazine they handed out to shield me from harm, and one of Jamey's clients looks at me and says, "That's not gonna do anything."

So I have to wonder why Jamey would pick those seats. There was a spot behind where they were batting with a net and everything. We could have sat there and then I would have been protected from foul balls and I could've yelled "kick 'em in the jimmy" cos the net would have protected me from the angry players I was yelling at. Sheesh.

And so the whole reason for my ugh comment is because then we came home and watched the Tour de France stage cos it was a good one. I kept trying to sneak peeks because one of the boxes had it on their tv. But I had to stop because I was getting a crick in my neck from trying to look. Plus I needed to at least look like I was watching the ball game since we were with clients. So I waited and we came home and watched the Tour and ate ice cream (finally!). And went to bed at 12:30. The stage yesterday was very frustrating. I think Alberto Contador is a royal jerk for riding away from Andy Schlek when he popped his chain. Yes, I am complaining because I am grouchy 1. Had to dodge multiple hits from left handed batters. 2. Couldn't yell kick 'em in the jimmy. 3. Crick in the neck from trying to slyly watch the Tour. 4. NO CHIPWICHES. 5. Alberto the jerk. 6. 12:30am. So ugh it is today.

Libraries

Today as part of the bazillion things we are going to do today, Joshua and I are going to make a trip to the library. Jamey has a book on hold there that I have to pick up. I am also excited because Jamey and I get a date night tonight. Something that doesn't happen nearly enough. It's really a client function - dinner at a pizza joint and then on to watch the Richmond Braves (Sorry, I refuse to say the Squirrels. Does Richmond even have flying squirrels???), but still we get to go out. Oops, I digress - back to the library. . .

I loved going to the library when I was a kid. The first library I can remember going to was actually not a library, but a book mobile. It was a little van that would park in the parking lot at Meadowbrook Plaza, which was down the street from where we used to live. I loved going into this miniature library and pick out several books to take home to read. I wish they still had one of these!

I don't know why, but I waited quite a while to introduce Joshua to the library. I don't know if it was fear that he wouldn't behave or what, but I just really started taking him maybe last summer. That said, I think he loves the library as much as I do, and I wish I hadn't waited so long. I love picking out books for him - stuff that I used to read like Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel, Bread and Jam for Frances, The Story About Ping, Babar, and all other kinds of classic children's books. I also let Joshua choose some books and we have a few new favorites now too - the best one so far is called Simply Delicious. We look for it every time we go to the library.

I am sad to see that they have begun closing the branches on Thursday and that they stopped the children's reading time, but I do understand why they had to do it. I just hope when the economy turns around and things are better they will consider reversing that.

So now instead Joshua and I have our own reading time. He wants to learn to read so that he can read like mommy does. I hope he is a real bookworm as he grows up. It would be a nice "tradition" to pass along to him the way my mom did with me, and her dad did with her, etc etc. I also hope that he will remember the trips to the library when he grows up and looks at them as fond memories like I do.

Cookouts, cooking, and baking - oh my!

Yes, yes we are. I love cookouts. We are having several other couples over tonight. We all met in college, and I haven't seen some of these people in quite a while. Most of us have had kids and some of those kiddies I'll be meeting for the first time. So it should be a fun and slightly chaotic time.

We invited them to our house, and we are all sharing in the cooking duties. So everybody is bringing something (thanks!). My friend, Beverley, is bringing brownies, and thank goodness for that because her daughter has an egg allergy and I wouldn't know how to make brownies without eggs! But we were at lunch, and Joshua looks at me and pipes up, "Mommy - will you make one of your famous cakes?" Now what was I supposed to do with that? How could I not make a cake for him? So guess what is in the oven right now? Yep - homemade yellow cake (that I can't help but notice really looks white each time I've made it).

I love cooking. But I really love baking. Sometimes I wish Joshua liked my cooking more. I think I make a pretty mean mac n'cheese (something we are having tonight, in fact). But he won't eat it! He does certainly eat any cake, cookie, or other dessert though, so I guess it's something. At least he likes the stuff I like to make best. It doesn't help that I like to make all those scrumptious desserts though. Those yummy things are not nice to my waistline - at all. Oh well.

I think I like cooking so much because I always felt like my mom was a really great cook (now she's really good at going out to eat, and that actually really pleases me - why should she have to cook anymore???). You could just feel the love oozing out of her recipes. I have, of course, gotten several of my favorites and make them now for my family. I also asked my mom last Christmas sometime if she would make copies of a bunch of recipes - well actually I asked her to hand write them for me. Because when I make them in the future, I think it would be really cool. I would still feel the love ooze from the paper, I guess. And she started doing that little project. I know it will take a lot of time, but it means so much.

Oh and by the way, I had no idea that my cakes were famous. I guess as long as he thinks they are famous is all that counts. Maybe one day he'll ask me for hand-written recipes. Then I'll hand him MiMi's cookbook. And one from his mommy too. Double the love. Maybe even triple.

So as I sit here and look at this page where I type all the stuff out before it goes to be published, I have to laugh at myself. And give you a small warning or two.

First of all, if you think I am going to blog every single day, you are probably going to be sorely disappointed. I know I am posting a blog for the second whole day in a row, but that's because it's all shiny and new and lovely. Besides, I don't think I could come up with something to say every day. However, I reserve the right to change my mind on that. Just like I did with having children. Jamey and I told everyone from even before we were married that we weren't having children, but we reserved the right to change our minds. (I am so glad we did, by the way!) So I also reserve the right to write something on here every day if I feel like it.

Second, if you think I am going to post all kinds of philosophical, deep stuff (ok most of you who know me can stop laughing, this is for the one or two of you who think I actually could do that stuff), you are also probably going to be disappointed. I really just want to use this to exercise my brain and talk about junk I want to talk about. Most of it will probably be really silly stuff and maybe I'll get no followers at all, but that's not really why I am doing this anyway. It's really for me. (and Joshua if he ever wants to read the silly stuff his mom thinks about.)

And finally, if you are thinking that perfect spelling, punctuation, grammar, etc is going to happen here - well it's not. And if it is going to bug you, then you have two options. 1. You can become my personal editor, or 2. you can just find another blog to read. (the latter would probably be the better option. Just sayin')

I will say that I feel my brain kind of waking up as a result of doing this. Writing in here helps me to not be not all about mommy, wife stuff. I have all kinds of things I want to write on here, which is really surprising. I find myself trying to think of ways to organize it, or how to phrase something. Lots of times I find that I have an idea, but that's all it is. Just one or two sentences like, "my parents are the best" or, "I can't believe my dog likes sliding down the sliding board and boy is that going to be an expensive surgery when he hurts himself". Stuff like that. And then I'll think about how I would turn it into a whole post. It almost makes me feel like I could even write a book. Because it is so easy to sit down and just write. Except for the fact that I have no idea what I'd write about, and it probably wouldn't make sense because it would just be the kind of freeflow writing and so there'd be about a thousand plots, characters etc. But it's really fun to think about it.

So again, I like that it is waking up part of my brain - kind of the creative side - that I haven't used in so long. I get a little glimpse of me that has started waking up over the past year or so as my son has gotten older and less dependent on me. It's nice to see a little bit of me. Hello me.

I'm Not Sure Why I'm Doing This!

I have no idea what has really inspired me to start a blog. I guess maybe a little from my big sister (note I don't say "older" cos that's just not nice!), and maybe a bit because of that little movie "Julie and Julia". Or is it "Julia and Julie"? Well whatever. . . One other little thing that kind of kicked me into "blog mode" was something that was said on the ever-popular Facebook to another one of my friends about how he should start a blog. I had already been thinking about it, and when I saw that I thought, well, maybe now is the time.

I just have found it interesting to think about doing this for two reasons.
1. I think I will use a part of my brain that I don't really get to use when I am being a wife, mommy, maid, nurse, etc etc. and 2. I think if I keep at this semi-regularly and can remember to print out the blog from time to time (though right now I have no idea if it is even possible to do that) then my little boy will have something kind of cool that his mom wrote. Almost like a diary. But different.

And so now, I think I should tell you at least a little about myself. My name is Carolyn Davidson. I am (gulp!) 40 years old. I am married to an awesome guy named Jamey and we have been together for almost 14 years. We have a lovely little boy named Joshua who I swear is the result of a secret cloning experiment the Federal Government has done to our family. They just haven't told us yet. But I know it's true. You know it's true when the moment you have pushed him out of your body, your mom takes one look at him and says, "Oh my God, it's Jamey!!! (And just so you know my mom was a Labor and Delivery nurse, so it was a natural to have her in the delivery room - I mean DUH.)


My best friend is Yvette and she lives in Texas which really stinks for two reasons. 1. I hardly ever get to see her, and 2. I really hate flying. However, I was just there and that is where I watched the J&J movie. She might start a blog too. And of course, it will be my favorite other blog because she is my best buddy!

We live in Midlothian, Virginia, and we love our neighborhood. We are such a cookie cutter family, even down to the 4 month old yellow lab we have (his name is Quincy). I don't care that we are cookie cutter. I love our life!

So that's me in a nutshell. I hope to be back and write again soon. Bye!