Two Precious Moments with Carter

The Store

I just needed to run into Hobby Lobby to grab a few things, so I strapped Carter into the cart and off we went. I got what I needed, and was ready to go--but I just couldn't. Carter was holding my hand. I know that must seem so simple and not a big deal, but these shows of affection initiated by him are just starting to happen. So, we just walked up and down isles and in circles around the store. I wanted to take it in and not do anything to break that moment. It was something I'll never forgot and I hope that throughout my life I'll never forgot how important it is to appreciate those gifts that you don't ask for and how important it is to take time to enjoy them.

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5 AM

Carter has been sleeping all night long for a while now...so long I can't really remember what it was like to get up every night anymore. But, on occasion, he wakes up. When he does, I know that there's something wrong. I always wait a few minutes before going in because I want to give him a chance to go back to sleep (which he often does). This morning I heard him cry at 5 AM and I just groaned, thinking "Oh no, not now. I was sleeping so good. Please go back to sleep. Please, please, please..." He didn't go back to sleep, so I got up and made my way to his room in the dark, trying not to open my eyes too much, trying not to get too far away from sleep. Lately, it's been his teeth that bother him, so I have a few tricks up my sleeve that I try with him. But this time he stops crying almost as soon as I pick him up. This really never happens. He can't tell me what's wrong, so I imagine that it must've been a bad dream. So I just hold him. Carter isn't a very cuddly baby and he doesn't tolerate my hugs and squeezes for long, but at 5 AM on June 5 he layed his head on my shoulder. He put one hand around my arm and the other on my other shoulder and he just layed there. I was in such awe of this moment I could hardly breathe. Inside, I felt like a happy cry. So we rocked and I rubbed his back and I whispered to him until he fell asleep on my shoulder (which he also never does). This was so precious to me. I must've sat there for about 30 minutes. By this point, I was fully awake, but I was glad--glad he needed me and glad that I got up at 5 AM.

I Miss My Brain

I mean that...not in the “I“m loosing my mind” sense, but in the sense that what exists in my skull seems to be a former shell of what used to be. I really didn’t believe those that told me that you forget how to have a conversation with an adult when you have a baby. Now I am proof. I’m a statistic in the worst way.
Grabbing onto the Facebook and MySpace wave has put me in touch with some of my past and it’s put me into a very nostalgic mood. Just talking to Kelly makes me remember what nerdy little kids we were. In our elementary years, we would actually sit together for hours trying to write a book about our lives and our experiences. We tried our hand at designing our own line of clothing. The point is: we wrote, we drew, we dreamed, we read, we thought big. Those things stuck with me through high school. I have a poetry book that I wrote. I have shelves of books that I read (though I’ve sold many of them now on Amazon to help put gas in my car). I have artwork and memories of artwork that I created. In college, I could write about ANYTHING and I was good at it and it was easy for me. I would have long conversations about life, love, religion, friendship for hours on end. I could open up.
Now...where is that person? I bought a sketch journal a few weeks ago with the intention of reconnecting with my brain. I glued in a few pictures and quotes from a magazine and there it is on the shelf. I haven’t painted anything in almost a year. I’m not sure I remember how. I don’t REALLY talk to anyone anymore...the bearing-your-soul kind of talking, that is. When I try, it feels a little stretched. I was a darn good teacher. I reveled in the creativity that it allowed me. I did that every day for 8 years. I’m not sure I can do those things anymore. I have Love in the Time of Cholera on my nightstand. It’s been there since Christmas. I’m still in the first chapter. “WHO IS THIS PERSON?” I can read an adult level book. I swear it.
So now the challenge: to find what got in the way and to find where I went. I don’t blame Carter or feel any resentment towards him, but I know that taking care of an infant leaves no time for much else. I can’t just sit on the couch for hours reading. I can’t immerse myself in painting for a day. In my free time, I have to do things like: take a shower, eat a meal, wash clothes, clean the house. Those aren’t choices. I guess my answer is simple: I’ll do what I have to do and when I have time to do other things, I’ll do them and I’ll try to do them well. I need that for me.
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Sorry for the overall negative entry. This is where I’m at today.