My Baby is One

Baby A is one year old. A huge milestone in her life, but also a day I consider a milestone in mine, that deserves celebration for both of us. ONE. In itself, it seems so small, but when I stop to think about the amount of life in that one year, I am amazed.

A one year old daughter- a year of motherhood. That one year is so much more complex than it sounds-- one of those things you have to live to understand. Getting through the tears (both her's and mine) to the moments of giggles and awe. Although the 26 hours of labor seemed to have shrunk in my memory, I remember very vividly the moment that A was actually born. I can still hear the words whispered by her daddy and can feel the emotions when I held her for the first time. I remember thinking that the first few weeks of her life were long and tough. The moments of holding a sleeping Baby A in my arms as I rocked her in her nursery are embedded in my memory, something I want to hold on to forever, to easily recall as A continues to grow up. I hope I never forget the newborn smell she carried and the bliss I felt upon hearing her first coo. She is now making her transition into a toddler-- crawling, standing, and beginning to walk. Listening to her bang on the back door and yell "dada" through the window as her dad takes care of the pool and does yardwork is heartwarming. Hearing her say "mama" instantly puts a smile on my face and has the magical ability to make any of my problems disappear. I look forward to opening the car door to get her out of her carseat, as she smiles and says "hi." These little moments fill my life now, and, although its a very different life than I had a year ago, I wouldn't change it for anything.

In the last year, I have learned patience. I have learned that there is more than one "right" way to do something (although my way is usually better ;]). I have cared for pink eye, ring worm, ear infections, and colds...so many colds. I have felt a deeper love for my husband than I did before. I have felt joy so real that it hurts and understood a new definition of responsibility, as well as anxiety. I've grown to love my "lived in" looking house and my postpartum body. I've tried to live more purposefully, focusing on the behaviors, attitudes, and values that I want A to "inherit" from me. I also feel that A has given me a small piece of her wonder- helping me see the world with a little more awe and excitement, as I watch the learning and the enchantment on her face and in her eyes. In the last year, I've been exhausted and felt exhilirated. At times, I've trusted my gut and other times, I've questioned myself. I've nursed and nurtured. I've watched and listened, savored and recorded. I've sought reassurance and encouragement. I've been amazed and overwhelmed, grateful and relieved. I've cried tears of pure happiness and tears of frustration. I've learned sacrifice and found a new level of strength. I've become more of who I'm meant to be. I've given birth. I've become a mother.

So, as we celebrate A on her first birthday,  I also cheers to my first year of parenthood. A year of survival, of growth, of love- here's to the tears, the joy, the learning, the journey. And here's to many more!

What I've Gained After Losing My Father

For the past 5 years, Father's Day has been difficult. Every day of the year I think about and remember my father, but father's day reminds me he is gone.

I'm a lot like my dad, in more ways than I wish to be. I'm certainly stubborn and always know  (think) I'm right. I'm a little bit bossy and a lot type A. I need plans for structure and prefer to lead than follow. I'm a stickler for grammar and believe hard work will take you places.

However, along with remembering my dad, it's also a good day to remember the things he taught me and instilled in me - both when he was with us and after he is gone. Alomg with stubbornness comes perseverance. Because I need to be right, I'm eager to learn and thrive on knowledge. Plans mean I'm prepared, and hardwork equals hardwork.

After he died, I learned the importance of family, and those who are like your family. I know it's not only about achieving and accomplishing goals, but cherishing, living, and being in those moments in between. That's where life happens. And I gained that lesson just in time to be in each and every moment and milestone, big or small, as my daughter grows up.

Each and every day I wish my dad was here. The grief may live on, but resilience triumphs.

A Letter to my Daughter on my First Mother's Day

Dear A,

The past 9 months have been the happiest, most exhilarating of my life. The moment we met, we were both crying—you because you had bravely leapt into a bright, strange world, and me because, after hours of waiting and pushing, it only took one instant for all of my hopes, dreams, and wishes to become tangible, all in the form of you. The only words I remember are “She’s beautiful,” whispered by your father, as I finally got to hold you close. I stared and smiled and cried. This is the moment I became a mother, and I will never forget it.

Everyone says that you will grow up too quickly, and it’s a sentiment I didn’t understand until I was living it. Already you are no longer the little newborn who would sleep in my arms all day. You make me wish I had the ability to overcome the concept of time itself, so that I could rewind and relive all your sweet milestones, or fast forward so I don't have to wait one more minute to see who you become. Or pause, I really want to pause. Each new stage you enter is my new favorite, although I am sure I will say that about each and every one.

Sometimes I sit and stare at you as you sleep, watching your chest rise and fall. Sometimes when you smile and laugh, I almost want to cry, so overcome with emotions of how you are so completely perfect, and how I am simply lucky. As comforting as I know I am to you, you are the same to me. A rough day is made better the second I see your face and hold you in my arms.

I often think about how motherhood has changed me, and how I continue to want to change, in order to be the best mom I can be for you. You have taught me to be patient and that planning isn’t everything. You have taught me that making mistakes isn’t weak, it is how to learn. You have shown me that responsibility has a stronger definition than I ever imagined. You have shown me all the happiness my heart can hold in a single smile or laugh. I want to become stronger, kinder, and wiser for you.

Life before you was simple, easy. The house was clean, and I was always on time (read: early). I never had spit up on my clothes, never had worry about childproofing the kitchen or the stairs. I’d never find a pacifier with my purse while at work, or carry small toys and Puffs with me everywhere.

But now I can’t imagine my life any other way.

I wish I could hold your hand for all the scary parts of life and protect you from any insults and disappointments that you may face. I wish I could make it so you would never fail and never have your heartbroken. But I know that as you experience these uncomfortable situations and continue to grow, you will have resiliency and strength.

On Mother's Day, I wanted to reflect on the joy you bring to my life and the gift you are to me. This time last year, your dad and I would sit, wondering what you would be like and who you would look like. That time seems so far away. We sat wondering about you, but never stopped to think about how we would change because of you. You, my dear, are perfect, and I feel lucky to be your mom.

Being your mother is the most important line on my resume. It is the title I hold most close to my heart and the one I think of most often. As you grow older, know that I will always love you, no matter what. Even on the days you don’t really like me, know that I am always trying my best, working my hardest for you. You mean everything to me and that will never change.

Love, Mom

Reflection on Father's Day

My sister sent this blog post: They don't make Father's Day cards for kids whose dads are gone

I felt like the blog post said things I had only thought, things I wasn't sure if I was allowed to say out loud. I don't write blog posts often because I can't always get the words out that I want to say...but having that blog post bring uncomfortable feelings to the surface made me feel that writing my own words would be soothing.

"I mean, is it okay for me to still grieve like this? Hallmark didn’t make cards from complicated daughters like me for difficult fathers like you, so this pang in my heart is always such a source of conflict for me. I wonder if the person I miss even existed. Eight years is a long time. There’s a lot of room to fill there. I get scared that the person I remember is made up, that maybe all your nuances and quirks were things I blew out of proportion so I could have something to hold onto....When I try to pull you back into the focus of my mind’s eye, I wonder about so many things, you know? Dumb shit, like if you would have an iPhone or a Blackberry...And what you might have worn to my wedding, and if you would have insisted on a father daughter dance. And if yes, I wonder what we might have danced to."

The above excerpt from the blog post made me feel like the author had looked inside my mind and taken out some of my thoughts. My dad and I didn't have the perfect relationship, so to be honest, sometimes I wonder if the memories I cherish are complete. Did I change them in mind at all in order to remember the father I want to? Do I make a bigger deal about the things I believe my dad passed on to me-- the importance of education, for example.

"You have no idea how often I wish you were around to talk to, Dad. Or maybe you do somehow. Maybe you’re up there watching me live, or maybe you’re nothing but scattered ashes....I don’t know how to think about any of it anymore, not like I used to. I’ve figured out that Death is so much more complex than heaven or hell or nothingness. After all this, I’m scared to be like you and I’m scared that if I’m not, I’ll lose you, and I’m scared to still love you and miss you in spite of everything that happened and today it feels really, really hard to breathe."

Death is definitely complex. I want to believe that my dad is watching over me, seeing me as I grow into the woman, wife, and mother that I know he knew he'd become. However, I also feel silly when I say he is watching over me. But it easier than thinking my dad is gone forever.

This was my fourth Father's Day since my dad passed away. I felt like each one gets a little easier to get through, as I get a little stronger. However, this Father's Day was different. On this Father's Day I was less than four weeks to the due date of my first child....

I thought I would be fine, I thought it would be like the others-- I would miss him, I would hope that my friends posting Facebook statuses about their dads would realize how lucky they are to still have their dads in their lives. It was more than that, more than I was expecting...

My husband and I started the day by watching the Today show. They did a special, where the weekend hosts spoke about their fathers. One of the hosts had a dad who past away, and she began speaking of her father who died 6 weeks after her son was born and how glad she was her dad got to meet and hold her son. Immediately, several tears slid down my cheeks. I turned off the television. My husband simply said, "Is it the Father's day thing?" I only said, "yes," and he held me a little tighter.

I didn't want to hear about other people's fathers meeting their children. That won't happen for me.

It's something I hadn't really thought about....probably because I didn't want to. I've been happy about the fact that my dad met my husband. Maybe he didn't know that he would become my husband, but he knew him. And my husband knew my dad.

My dad might not have known that I would become a school counselor, but he knew I was about to graduate with two bachelor degrees and head to graduate school. He may not have known I would move to a new state and start my career, but he knew I was intelligent enough to be successful in life. I've accepted all these things, and learned to be okay with them.

But he won't know my children.

I've obviously known this, and accepted this as a fact in my life. And one day, I'll get to the point where I'm okay with it. People used to tell me that time would make it easier. After four and a half years, I still don't agree with that statement. I think time just makes it more real, more of a truth as my life keeps moving and changing.

Dad, I will share stories of you with my children. They will know of the man who raised me, and I will instill in them the things I am proud you taught me. And I will continue thinking you are watching over us. Drinking a beer to celebrate our life events and accomplishments, and drinking a beer when we are going through a rough time. In December, I will drink a beer to toast you and your life, and cherish the short time I got to spend with you. And on that day, I will hug my daughter a little tighter and hope she can feel you, and feel the love she would have received from her granddad.

Thankfulness

Since big things have been happening in my life the past few months, I've constantly reflected on how grateful I am, how happy I am. Since it's that time of year, I decided to write a post about the things I'm thankful for...since I missed starting the days of being thankful on Facebook...

1. I am thankful for my husband. Beside me I have someone who supports me and wants the same things out of life that I do. I am happy that the things we have been working for are finally becoming a reality-- and between those big events are moments filled with love and laughter.

2. I am grateful for my family, who is supportive, understanding, and fun. Growing up I never understood the benefits of a small family, and although it was a hard thing to learn, we know never to leave words unspoken and to cherish every moment together.

3. I am grateful for my education. It is value that was stressed throughout my childhood and instilled in me a love of learning that I still carry with me. Specifically, grateful for the learning that took place while obtaining my Master's degree since it helped me find a job that makes me happy and also taught me to look at life with empathy and without judgment. I'm also grateful for the opportunity to use my education everyday to touch and affect the lives of students.

4. I'm thankful to have moved to a place with real seasons and cooler weather. Fall has always been my favorite season-- college football, pumpkin flavors, and the start of the holiday season. It seems to be perfect with the addition of sweaters and colorful leaves.

5. I'm thankful for cozy socks, sweatshirts, and pj pants. In order words, thankful for comfort.

6. I'm thankful for  coffee. I don't necessary need to drink coffee to feel more awake, but I do start every morning with a delicious cup and think its an added benefit to have the delightful aroma filling the kitchen.

7. I am thankful for my sister. I say it all the time, but Sarah inspires me. She was my sidekick growing up, making it so I never felt alone. It's something that, looking bad, I am tremendously grateful for. In our adult lives, Sarah has taught me that dreams can come true and that higher education isn't the only way to open a door for opportunities. She has determination, strength, and passion I admire.

Snow

I'm slowly starting to get used to the snow.

The first time it snowed this winter was Christmas Eve. I was so excited to see the snow, since I don't really remember ever seeing it, even though I lived in Connecticut until I was 5. I took pictures. I stood in it. I played with the dogs in it. My body didn't even feel the cold.

As the excitement died down, the cold overwhelmed me. While I think Florida is too hot, I wasn't quite prepared to go from 80 and 90 degree weather to 30 degree weather in a period of only a couple weeks. Brian would laugh at me as I put on two jackets, a hat, a scarf, and gloves to take the dogs for a walk, but it was better than feeling frozen.

However, nothing prepared me for driving in the snow.

Since the trucks drop off the salt stuff to keep the roads clear, the roads don't scare me-- maybe a little wet, but I've driven in bad rainstorms before, so that wasn't an issue. (I'm a very cautious driver in completely sunny weather, so I'm definitely a cautious driver in rain and snow.)

However, the sensation of feeling like you are going to run into these white balls that are headed straight for your car is something I had never experienced before. Although the logical part of my brain tells me that it's just a snowflake that will fall onto my car, the irrational part tells me that I can't possibly drive into something like that. I guess knowing the irrational thoughts is the first part of getting over it, right?

There were a few days where I was checking the weather and planning my trips to the grocery store, etc. when it wasn't supposed to snow. But slowly, I am coming to terms with the fact I know live in a state where it will snow in the winter and I will still need to run errands. I do think the snow is very pretty. Our dining room table is next to two doors with large windows overlooking our deck. Its very calming to look up from my computer and see the snow falling.

Jalapeno Popper Stuffed Chicken

Pinterest is my favorite place to look for recipes.
I adapted a recipe found here: http://jujugoodnews.com/jalapeno-popper-chicken/
My husband and I both really enjoyed it.

Ingredients:
1/2 cup Italian breadcrumbs
2 tsp. vegetable oil
1.5 – 2 tsp. taco seasoning
1 egg
2 oz. cream cheese (we used reduced fat)
1/4 cup shredded cheese (we used 2% cheddar jack)
2-3 jalapeño peppers, seeds and ribs removed, minced (we used 3-- we like spicy, and some of the spice diminishes in the oven)
2 chicken breasts

Directions:
1. Preheat the oven to 375. Spray baking dish with nonstick spray.
2. In a small skillet over medium heat, combine the breadcrumbs and the vegetable oil. Cook, stirring often, until the panko is golden and crispy. Place in a shallow bowl or dish. Add the taco seasoning and stir to combine.
3. In another shallow bowl or dish, lightly beat an egg.
4. In a small bowl, combine the cream cheese, cheddar cheese, and jalapeños.
5. Cut a pocket into the side of each chicken breast, or horizontally slice the chicken through the center, until it is almost butterflied. Season the chicken lightly with salt and pepper, and then divide the cream cheese mixture evenly between each chicken breast’s pocket. Use toothpicks to secure, if necessary.
5. Dip the chicken pieces one at a time first into the egg, and then into the breadcrumb mixture, making sure to coat the chicken completely. (I added a little more taco seasoning and a few red pepper flakes to the top of the chicken before baking-- again, we like spicy!) Place the chicken on the prepared baking rack and cook for about 25-30 minutes, or until chicken is cooked through.