Benjamin David has turned 1.  I am both thrilled and saddened by this rite of passage.  There is the accomplished mommy in me who feels a strong sense of pride at having helped her little “punkin” grow to the walking, running, playing, “munchkin” status.  And then the mourning mommy who is befuddled over the quickness that overtook the growth process of this long anticipated little being.  My mother accused me of suffering delayed postpartum … she may have a point, but thankfully I am recovering quickly.

Having realized how quickly the first year flies, I am fearful of the next years also flying.  There are people who feel implored to share statements like, “Just wait, he’ll be graduating high school in no time.”  Really?! Is it absolutely necessary to burst the bubble of a woman who still considers herself a new mom?!  Must you rain on the parade of a woman who still refers to books to find the best daytime routines and meal plans?!  To force someone like me to consider which college would be best for my one year old is just downright heinous!  I have no internal desire to envision my barely speaking toddler escorting some floozy to the prom … I’m still ecstatic that he signed ‘please’ this morning.

Having fully expressed my distaste for such bubble-bursters, I would again like to impress my great appreciation for the short times when my “munchkin” stops, lays down, and cuddles with me … letting me know that the rest of the day may fly by, but he too appreciates the slow comfortable gift that is relaxation. 

There is too much loss of life.  Needless loss of life.  And the predominant loss is children.  As the last day of school arrived three families are being forced to bury their children because of a car accident.  There are forty chlidren (and counting) in Mexico who were killed in a day care fire . . . one parent actually drove through a wall of the building in attempt to save some of the children.  And there was a infant who God decided would be better off in heaven after the child had been maliciously taken from his dead mother (who had been killed).

I can’t wrap my head around these atrocities.  Ever since Ben was born I have been haunted with images of him being injured.  When I first was married I had similar thoughts about David, but they lessened (they continue, but not as often).  Ben has been here for six months and my fears only get worse.  After hearing about the accident with the high school students this weekend I immediately thought of my own parents when I was in high school.  They insisted we weren’t allowed to ride in other student’s vehicles.  At the time I thought they were being so unreasonable . . . of course I now know differently.

My only choice at this point is my faith.  I have faith that David and I will do our best to teach Ben how to live safely.  I have faith that all of the children who left this world this weekend are with Jesus right now.  And I pray that all of the parents are given the strength to cope with their loss.  My heart goes out to all of them.

Case in point: my husband and I opted for a family outing to the beach over the weekend, a quick trip to introduce Ben to the ocean. We arrived and immediately set up the stroller and threw some towels in the bottom basket, put Ben’s sunglasses on, grabbed the camera, and we were off. Did anyone notice our error? We crossed the street and headed over the dunes on a man-made walkway – one that included straight paths and many stairs. Neither one of us had the “light bulb” realization while we carried the stroller over all of the stairs . . . it wasn’t until we reached the sand that I realized our stupidity. Why had we brought the stroller?! It wasn’t going anywhere in the sand and we immediately took Ben out to play in the water anyway.

Then there’s the conversation I was having with my sister regarding the weight of our little ones. I don’t particularly enjoy having to wait until the doctor’s appointment to find out Ben’s weight and it isn’t convenient to place him on our bathroom scale. Then my sister mentions that she weighs herself at the grocery store and then picks up her son to figure out his weight. Duh! Why couldn’t I have thought of that?! If you’re wondering why my sister has retained her common sense and I haven’t . . . she hasn’t, but I won’t take this time to air her dirty laundry!

Ben is almost five months old and I just recently realized that the best place to park at the grocery store, while Ben is in tote, is near the cart return space. Prior to this realization I had been standing near my car with the cart hoping some cart-needy shopper would walk by and give me an assist or I would contemplate simply leaving the cart in the middle of the parking lot (which happens to be a pet-peeve of mine). So now, after five months, I park near the cart return.

While I was pregnant lack of logic events such as this were commonly referred to as pregnancy brain and now I refer to this new phenomenon as mommy mush brain, a term coined by a friend of mine. I had previously thought of myself as a pretty intelligent person, but unfortunately I am now questioning my ability to handle even the simplest of tasks. The only thing I am sure of . . . I am so impressed with my mom for managing five of us without any of us noticing if she had these difficulties!

By the way . . . Happy Birthday Mom! I love you!