Rough & TUMBLE

B did a face plant yesterday at daycare. Literally, he fell on his face on the hard top of the playground. He's got a brutal raspberry all the way down his nose, plus an egg on his forehead, and he had a bloody nose when it happened, too. But my little ruffian is really pretty unfazed by the whole thing. Occasionally, he'll hit the skin of his nose with his hand or something and remember it's sore and look at me kind of like, "Oh, ow." But on the whole, he clearly doesn't mind the falling down.

And of course, I know this is just the first (and probably mildest) of many, many injuries he's likely to endure. By B's age, my youngest brother had already had stitches once. And Be reminds me of him, as a toddler - same sturdy build, same blonde hair, same contagious smile, and same need for speed. It didn't really freak me out the way I thought it would, seeing his little face all scraped up. Maybe it's because I have three brothers and spent two years teaching a bunch of hellion boys, so I guess I kind of knew what I was getting into. But really, so far, it's more a feeling of awe that I have, that he's growing up so fast. (Talk to me after his next injury - I'm sure my facade of coolness and calm will have vanished.)

But seriously, little boys get cuts and scrapes. This is not to say that little girls don't - they certainly do. But looking back on myself and my four siblings, it does seem the boys got to a different level, with their cuts and scrapes. So, what this face plant indicates, I think, is that my baby has officially become a little boy.

Little Man

So, as I've already said here, work has been stressful lately. Not in any unusual way, really, just busy and harried and stressy. One of the things (among the many) that I'm working on is to be better about leaving work at work. I tend to be a sensitive and highly stressed person (also something I'm working on in a more general sense) and as a result, I often end up stressing at night and over weekends about stuff that's going on at work. It's a ridiculous thing to do, and I know it. But I've been in one stressful role after another, often with bosses who couldn't let go, and as a result, I've developed this bad habit.

But one thing that has made and continues to make it easier to forget work when I'm not here is B. What better way is there to forget your troubles than to come home to a smiling little menace who lunges at you joyfully and demands your full attention for the entire time he's in your presence? It is such a wonderful thing to just let go of whatever petty stress I feel, in favor of watching B tear around the house, running and climbing with exuberance and joy. When he lunges at me for an aggressively affectionate hug or kiss, my troubles melt away.

When I wake up in the morning and psyche myself up for the day by thinking about the things in my life that make me feel happy and grateful, my boys always top the list. Picturing B's smiling little face and hilarious run-walk make it possible to get out of bed on those days when, otherwise, I might want to just stay there.

Fighting

Today just wasn't a great day. I mean, it actually wasn't a terrible day, in and of itself, but for whatever reason, the stress of it just sent me into a complete funk that I've been having a really hard time shaking. I hate that!

Again, I know everything is going to be fine. I know everything is going to settle down and come together. I know it. But the waiting...it gets hard sometimes. Patience has never been a great strong suit of mine. And for instance, when it comes to work, I deserve better than I'm getting. I do. And I know it's headed my way. I have faith in that. But that doesn't mean I never have a bad day. I have to just not let it get to me.

TT the Bear's

I love Pandora. It's really such a genius invention. If you've never used it, go to pandora.com pronto and get started. Today, my stations seem to be in cahoots to all play songs by artists I used to go to see frequently when I was a young, single girl living in the city and going to rock shows several nights a week. (On the off chance that anyone reading this is like, "HUH?!" about the title of this post, TT the Bear's is one of my favorite live music venues in Cambridge.) It's really genuinely strange. We've had Dresden Dolls, followed by Sheila Divine, followed by Hey, Mercedes, followed by Get Up Kids. And I mean, it's not that these bands are like SUPER obscure, but let's face it, they're not necessarily the most commonly played artists around, and for them to come on, even on Pandora, in that precise order, is...unusual. I'm suddenly really nostaligic for 2003. I really want to hit up TT's or The Middle East for a rock show that is as likely to be an enormous, loud disappointment as a genuinely good show (It's a 50/50 shot, a lot of times). Ahhh, good times.

Happy Birthday

Today is my sister's younger daughter's second birthday. This is unbelievable. It seems like just a blink ago that we were at the hospital visiting when she was born. She's a feisty little gal, and a hilarious one. She brings life to any party. And her unique pronunciations never cease to delight (her favorite drink is "lenomaaaaaade.") Happy Birthday, Miss!

Stress

I have problems with stress. Always have. I'm constantly working on it. Constantly working on how better to process stress, how better to look at things positively, how better to live in a state other than anxiety. And overall, I'm making progress, but the fact remains that I'm a work IN progress, so occasionally, I still have flare ups. And today was a pretty stressful day. Nothing I can't handle, but there was a lot going on. B had to have an ultra-sound on his belly (turns out he has a viral infection that has caused his spleen to swell slightly - not expected to be a big deal), and there was some stuff at work that was stressful. And when there's a confluence like that, it's hard. I know everything is going to turn out just fine. I know it is. But that doesn't make it less stressful, as much as I might wish it did.

Mother's Day

I am so grateful to be a mom. While I think it's so nice that there is a day set aside each year to show our appreciation for our mothers, for me, it's also an opportunity to appreciate how lucky I am to be a mother. I've written repeatedly here about how my son was unexpected. If I'd been able to plan it, who knows if I'd be a mother yet. But that's why the unexpected things in life are often the best things. My greatest blessing was a complete surprise. And I'm so grateful for him. Even today, when he had a super grumpy morning and gave me a really hard time about everything I tried to get done, I'm so grateful for him. He has given me a sense of purpose in life that I cherish. He has given me a kind of love I never knew I could feel. He has made me comfortable with myself in a way I've never been before.

This morning, we were running early for school, so we took a few minutes to read some stories, and while he sat on my lap, turning pages and pointing to "CAH" (cars) and "DAH" (dogs) and "BA-BALLS" (basketballs and baseballs), I took a moment to just soak in the pleasure of sitting with him, looking at books. Such a simple moment, but that's all it took to turn my mood around.

This afternoon, he had a check up at the doctor. The doctor has determined that he should go in for an ultra-sound, because he felt something in his belly that could potentially be an enlarged spleen. He doesn't think that's what it is (he thinks it's probably nothing) but feels like we should rule it out. I am absolutely positive that B is fine. I'm pretty sure I'd know if something were up. But shit like this is still so terrifying, because if it were something, I hope I'd be able to handle myself like an adult. I'm not entirely sure I would. I hope I won't have to find out.

It's a roller coaster. I've never been much of a fan of roller coasters in general, but this ride is one I'm all in for.