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I know this is slightly sick, but I always thought my offspring would be introverted, nerdy, musical, and fat.  Like me.  Definitely like Mr. A (except for the fat part...although he's about to surpass me in weight right now.  Don't tell him I told you, other woman.)

The fat thing went out the window-to my great relief-the moment lil pill was born at a healthy 8 lbs 15 oz.  The nurse (eyeing my just-ripped open mildly bloated fat even for a pregnant person body) said she'd never seen a baby so overdue that still weighed 8 pounds.   By 8 wks, lil pill was firmly in the bottom 5% of growth charts, where he's comfortably stayed ever since.  Cross fat off my  hopes and dreams list.

I was sure I was right about the musical part, because everytime I sang to him, lil pill would put his hand lovingly on my lips.  I would smile, and soak up the wonderful breastfeeding bonding hormones, and keep singing. In this picture he's about 7 months old and clearly trying to smother me and/or find help to do so.

 I continued singing until one day when he was-oh-about 18 months, and he told me to "shush".  I made him repeat it several times, because I just couldn't imagine that lil pill wouldn't want to hear my dulcet tones.  I sing all the time, write music as a hobby, majored in piano and vocal performance.   Um, no.  Lil pill has a thing for classic rock.  If you aren't singing ACDC or Aerosmith, he has no interest in listening.  He can carry a tune, thank Jesus, but somehow it loses a bit of the nostalgic appeal I imagined long ago, when we gather around the piano to "Dude looks like a lady".

Now it turns out the kid isn't even an introvert---something I held on to for a very, very long time, but which was probably just stunted social development from staying at home with me for three years.  After 6 months of preschool, pill will walk up to anyone and say anything.  Sometimes really embarrassing anythings, but that's just a learning opportunity, right?  The fun really starts when he walks into his class, and the kids flock to my kid, cocky in his light up spiderman shoes and power ranger sunglasses (worn no matter the weather).

Today I put 13 invitations to his 4th birthday in the respective cubbies.  By 5, I'd gotten 10 RSVP's.  And not just any normal RSVP's.  "Oh, Taylor is so excited! He just loves little pill!"  "You know, Jeremy only goes 2 days a week, but little pill is one of the kids he really knows well and he cannot wait!"  It started so innocently, but suddenly I'm flashing to birthdays in which I have to be Martha Stewart meets Steven Tyler in order to give my cool kid a cool birthday.  As of this morning I was going to relax after this weekend.  Tonight, I'm---I mean HE'S invited to three parties and an afternoon tea for ladies and gentlemen, whatever the holy crap that is.

I don't think I'll worry about whatever I was worried about with pill and his emotional health.  Pretty sure he'll find a way to prove me wrong about everything and then go on to be wildly successful at something I can't even imagine.

Don't that beat all?

I read about a zillion blogs, most of which I don't link to, in part because I can't be bothered to constantly update the blogroll, but more likely because they feel very private--as if those blogs say something about who I am that is too much to put out in the great wide world. It's a silly notion, since I talk openly about pretty much everything, but there you have it. Gotta keep some secrets, after all.

I don't talk much about my faith here, not because it isn't real to me, but because I'm still sorting out the feelings from getting smacked in the nose about my latest transgression. I've long tried to separate faith from people, because people fail every time and are only human, after all. Still, it is hard to hear that God is waiting to zap you one if you don't go back to your husband, but for the most part I'm able to put my feelings about people and my feelings about faith in separate corners.

That being said, there are two amazing, read-worthy blogs that I want to mention today in lieu of actually posting something myself. I've got a deadline, y'all.
The first is Molly's Adventures in Mercy. She escaped a legalistic fundamentalist mindset, and her detailed workings through topics and scripture is really eye-opening and helpful to me. It can be tough reading unless you enjoy theology and intellectual ramblings, because it requires both introspection and a grasp of the church. For the most part, there are no pictures of horses or iced cakes or beautifully sewn aprons. She's talking about real stuff, as a scholar and theorist might. After reading it last night, I just had to urge you to read this post.

The other blog I'm linking you to (I do have this one in the sidebar) is CFHusband. If you haven't followed this story, spend a while getting caught up. It's just your typical boy-meets-girl (who has cystic fibrosis, will die without a double lung transplant, and gets pregnant right before moving to the hospital, oh! and who has a preemie born at 26 wks that she's never been able to touch without gloves and a mask) story. In his latest few posts, Nate says that Tricia may be getting new lungs--the transplant team is determining if she has a match--and then says that the lung match is "no good". Tricia has been in the hospital for 3 months now, and I believe she has to have new lungs before she goes home.  I'm riveted, and I hope you will be as well.

Happy Monday everyone!

Snuggling in with your two best guys, even when one of them licks your face. A lot.

Thanking God for another week, and asking Him for another one to come.

Remembering that your baby is going to be four when next Sunday rolls around.

Cleaning house as long as you can stand it.

Curling up on the couch and reading trashy romance novels.

Having the time, supplies, and energy to make a dessert to last you through the whole most of next week.

Realizing that if you can do all of the above you're pretty darn lucky.

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This sucks.

I was all set to whine about maybe possibly going to work this weekend, and then I remembered.

She's found my blog, if the anon commenter can be trusted. And she's calling and emailing Mr. A.  I feel invaded.  Of course he's putting on the sanctimonious claptrap, but he had to have pointed her way here.  Now he's angry; geez, wonder how I feel much?

I try to be as personal and honest as possible without actually giving out my address, but this is ridiculous.  I've never had a stalker before.  Not sure I'm prepared.  Did I mention the "no data" phone calls to my unlisted number, always at the same time at night?  To say nothing of checking up on Mr. A every 5 minutes when he has lil pill; I'd like to think Mr. A has learned his lesson about using his kid to pick up women, but I'm not holding my breath.  I'm keeping close tabs on him for now.

Speaking of pill, he managed an hour and a half in daddy's company tonight before asking to come home.  He has also told me that he doesn't want to spend the night with Daddy anymore. I really believe Mr. A is on his best behavior, but lil pill has never been able to deal on a long-term basis.  Someday lil pill will grow up and go off to the Peace Corps, but for now it's kind of nice to be so necessary to emotional health.

Y'all have a good weekend.  I may or may not be working, and may or may not be outside the large part of the weekend.  Also, I may or may not be moving to Alaska. I think it's too cold for a stalker up there.