I have thought for a long time about writing this post, it's about sensitive subjects. My mission is not to offend anyone but to simply state my opinions and feelings and to hopefully open people's eyes, minds and hearts.
I have long believed that everyone deserves the right to be happy. I have many gay and lesbian friends and could never understand what was quite so offensive about them. What is offensive to me is the ability of some to judge an entire group of people based solely on the fact that they love someone of the same gender. What two consenting people chose to do with their lives is their decision, and their decision alone. It should never have been put up for debate in the first place. There's that whole right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness thing, isn't there?
Here's where it gets really messy. Religion is so often brought into this debate. The Bible says that homosexuality is a sin. Well, guess what, so is smoking, drinking, cursing, having bad thoughts, not wearing modest clothing, having sex out of wedlock, divorce, jealousy and JUDGMENT. That's right, I said it. God states in the Bible that He alone is to cast judgement. That we, as people, are to strive to love and accept our fellow man. The whole practice of Christianity is about accepting people, about forgiveness and about trying to be the best person you can be. I believe it is John 8:7 that states 'Let he who is without sin cast the first stone'.
I personally do not believe in God. I am an Evolutionist. But, I was raised in the Lutheran Church, attended a Lutheran school for many years, have read the Bible and have a pretty good working knowledge on the subject of religion. I have faced criticism based on my beliefs, and have turned the other cheek. I have never judged others based on their beliefs and don't intend to start. I have never judged someone based on their faults, barring abuse, murder, rape, you know, the things that really are awful. I would never judge someone based on the fact that they curse too much, that they drink too much, that their religious beliefs differ from mine, that they love someone of the same gender or that they disagree with me. Live and let live.
My husband is Baptist. We have talked many times about religion and how we will bring up our son. I have agreed to attend church if that is something Brian would like to do, I have no problem with Brian reading the Bible to Beau. Brian has asked me if I would be bothered by him praying with Beau, and I would be fine with it, I would even encourage it. We decided that we will raise Beau with both of our beliefs and when he is older we will let him decide for himself. I will have no objections if my son chooses to believe in God, or Evolution for that matter. We will bring him up with love and acceptance, teach him that hate is wrong and that respect is a necessity. As long as he is a good person and is good to other people then we have done our job.
And now to discuss the matter of gays and lesbians raising children. We all know how reproduction works, so I'm not even going to discuss that aspect of it. What I will discuss is the fact that there are so many unwanted children, so many babies that need loving homes, stable upbringings and parents that care. There are good people everywhere, there are also bad people everywhere. People who will abuse children, abuse the system by having more children just to get more money to spend on themselves, people who would rather do anything than care for the child they created. So how can we say that two people of the same gender wanting to love and care for a child is wrong when two people of opposite genders can't get it right? If we take that route than we could say that, for example, an aunt and grandmother raising a child together is wrong. Or that a single father seeking help from his father/brother/friend in raising a child is wrong.There is all together too much focus on what people deem right and wrong, and not enough focus on what really matters in these situations, that a child is loved and cared for.
I have seen friends personally affected by hate, seen the look in their eyes when someone suggests that they are less of a person because of who they love. It breaks my heart that it has taken so long for them to gain equal rights, and we're not even there yet. My friends, people who have supported me, given me a place to stay, loved me without question are some of the best people I have ever known. To anyone who says that gays and lesbians are sinners and bad people, I say does it make you a good person to cast that judgement?
Everyone has the right to their own beliefs, they have the right to love who they want to love. I want more than anything for this whole issue to open people's eyes to the fact that everyone is different. Just because someone does not share your beliefs or have the same family structure as you or loves someone who is the same gender or a different color or a different race does not give you the right to judge them. You never know what you will learn by simply listening to another person.
What a boring world it would be if we were all the same!
Friday, June 28, 2013
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Rainy Days
I love rainy days. The grey sky and muted sounds set my mind at ease and take me back to when I was a kid. The best are the days when it's just constant drizzle, the air, though humid is still slightly cool. The only thing better than being curled up with a good book and a cup of coffee on a day like this would be to throw on my rain coat and go for a hike.
Rain is transformative, not always for the better, but it is. In the woods the grey skies somehow make things dream like, I can imagine scenes form "Where the Wild Things Are', strange, giant monsters loping out of the gloom. It's as if the mist makes everything mysterious. Maybe I've read too many Stephen King books, or maybe I just refuse to let go of that last bit of wild imagination from my childhood.
When it rains I am instantly transported back to New England. In Massachusetts, playing in the puddles in the driveway. In Maine, to the coast, watching the grey ocean collide with the grey, rocky shores on one end and the grey horizon on the other. In Vermont, standing on the shore of Lake Champlain, imagining all of the ships that had sunk to the bottom, and the ever elusive lake monster, Champ. I can see, in my mind, the brilliant colors of the Fall foliage against a dreary sky, the trees seeming like fireworks bursting from the mountains. The smells of the woods, damp earth, pine, that ever present green smell that I adore surrounds me and I am instantly at peace.
Here in Richmond some of my favorite times have been on rainy days. Exploring Hollywood Cemetery with all of its history, the James River and the old, Southern architecture seem to come alive. Standing under a giant Magnolia while rain drips around me off the leaves and flowers, smelling like heaven on earth.
In South Carolina, marching in formation with what seemed like two hundred pounds of gear on my back, rain trickling into my eyes. My cap and hair plastered to my head, feeling completely exhausted, completely liberated, doing what felt most natural at that time.
In San Antonio, Texas, where it rarely rained, I can remember a day spent walking around post with my best Battle Buddy, just talking and laughing. We got lost, turned around and around until we finally got our bearings, drenched and happy. We were wearing our ACUs, it was family day. Neither of us had family visiting, so we were each others family for the day.
In Blackstone, hiding out in the back of our ambulance, telling jokes, waiting for the rain to stop and the exercise to continue. Using some poor, unsuspecting new Private as our personal guinea pig to practice on. Knowing that the people I was with would be friends for life.
And now the rain has stopped, returning me to present day, the reality of daily life. I hope that as Beau grows up he inherits a love of rainy days from both Brian and I. And I hope that he holds on to his imagination forever.
Rain is transformative, not always for the better, but it is. In the woods the grey skies somehow make things dream like, I can imagine scenes form "Where the Wild Things Are', strange, giant monsters loping out of the gloom. It's as if the mist makes everything mysterious. Maybe I've read too many Stephen King books, or maybe I just refuse to let go of that last bit of wild imagination from my childhood.
When it rains I am instantly transported back to New England. In Massachusetts, playing in the puddles in the driveway. In Maine, to the coast, watching the grey ocean collide with the grey, rocky shores on one end and the grey horizon on the other. In Vermont, standing on the shore of Lake Champlain, imagining all of the ships that had sunk to the bottom, and the ever elusive lake monster, Champ. I can see, in my mind, the brilliant colors of the Fall foliage against a dreary sky, the trees seeming like fireworks bursting from the mountains. The smells of the woods, damp earth, pine, that ever present green smell that I adore surrounds me and I am instantly at peace.
Here in Richmond some of my favorite times have been on rainy days. Exploring Hollywood Cemetery with all of its history, the James River and the old, Southern architecture seem to come alive. Standing under a giant Magnolia while rain drips around me off the leaves and flowers, smelling like heaven on earth.
In South Carolina, marching in formation with what seemed like two hundred pounds of gear on my back, rain trickling into my eyes. My cap and hair plastered to my head, feeling completely exhausted, completely liberated, doing what felt most natural at that time.
In San Antonio, Texas, where it rarely rained, I can remember a day spent walking around post with my best Battle Buddy, just talking and laughing. We got lost, turned around and around until we finally got our bearings, drenched and happy. We were wearing our ACUs, it was family day. Neither of us had family visiting, so we were each others family for the day.
In Blackstone, hiding out in the back of our ambulance, telling jokes, waiting for the rain to stop and the exercise to continue. Using some poor, unsuspecting new Private as our personal guinea pig to practice on. Knowing that the people I was with would be friends for life.
And now the rain has stopped, returning me to present day, the reality of daily life. I hope that as Beau grows up he inherits a love of rainy days from both Brian and I. And I hope that he holds on to his imagination forever.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Strangers and Babies
Beau has not been napping well at all lately. My solution is to put him in the car and go to the park/library/home improvement stores/garden center. Being in his stroller or being pushed in a cart puts him to sleep like a charm. Being the handsome little boy that he is, he garners attention from almost everyone we encounter. And everyone has advice about parenting. Some is helpful, some I ignore, some people are just plain rude about it.
The other day Beau and I were at Home Depot, I was pushing him around the store and stopped to look at paint colors for the new house. An older couple passed and the woman immediately paused to talk to Beau. Beau stared at her husband in awe, which I contribute to the fact that he was wearing a Red Sox hat. Good boy, Beau. Anyway, this couple was very nice, chatted for a moment and walked on. A few minutes later she reappeared next to me with a paper paint sample in hand. She gave it to Beau and he promptly stuck it in his mouth. I learned the hard way a few days before that when these paint things get wet they disintegrate and Beau ends up with ink all over his face. I looked at the woman, smiled and said, 'oh, uh, thanks, but no, he is just going to eat it.' At this point I was reaching to remove said paper from my child's mouth. the woman looked at me and said, "well, now he has another one, doesn't he?" Why do people think it's okay to do this stuff? I looked at her, said 'No. Thank you.' and put the chewed paper in the diaper bag. The look she gave me said "do you really think you know better than me?" To which, in my mind, I said yes. He is my child and whether you agree with my parenting or not I know what my baby needs.
Then there was the trip to Target. I made it through the store with probably a bit more than I needed, but who doesn't at Target? At the check out the cashier at the register next to us started to ogle Beau. Then she noticed that he wasn't wearing any shoes or socks. This was about a month ago, so he wasn't even crawling yet. Not to mention that it was roughly ninety-five degrees out with what seemed like 1000% humidity. 'Why don't you have any shoes little one?' the questioning began. I don't really ever put socks on Beau unless it's chilly out, and I refuse to buy him $30 shoes before he is old enough to walk. And so I told her. She glared at me like I was the most unfit mother she had ever encountered. 'Not even socks? His little feet must be cold.' and that same disapproving look. I just sighed and said "Nope". What I really wanted to say goes something like this: 'It is ninety five degrees outside, he is crammed into a car seat that does not breath at all. I am lucky I got clothes on him at all, have you ever tried to dress a six month old that despises wearing clothing? For that matter, I'm lucky I even got a diaper on him, considering he turns into a Flying Wallenda when it's time to change him. Any other questions Lady???' When I told Brian later that day about the encounter he shook his head and said "Why is it any business of hers?"
Being in public with a baby means lots of unsolicited advice. Everything from 'He's too cold/he's too hot to why are you feeding him formula? You're already giving him baby food? He's teething; he looks small/big for his age'...the list goes on. I have learned to deal with most of it, a simple acknowledgement and smile usually does the trick.
I can deal with the advice, what I can't deal with are people who think it's okay to touch him. Why are people so obsessed with baby toes? At least once a day a stranger will reach over and touch his feet before I can maneuver him away.
1. I do not know you, I do not know where your hands have been. Did you wash them after you used the bathroom? Did you just pick up a thing of yucky, dripping raw chicken in the meat section and then touch my baby's foot which he will promptly put in his mouth the second he has a chance???
2. What is it about pregnant women and babies that just screams "please touch me, because I have never met you and am therefore fine with you patting my belly/rubbing my toes/touching my head, etc.? I have never had the impulse to reach out and touch a stranger just for the heck of it. Someone please explain this to me.
3. While I'm at it, why do people stare at extremely pregnant women like they are aliens? I thought I was alone on this one until a friend of mine brought it up to me. We were due within a month of each other and frequently compared stories about this. In particular it seems to be elderly men and young women. Maybe one is thinking "If only you knew what you're in store for", and the other is thinking "Is that what I'M going to look like??!!"
4. Strangers who ask if they can hold my baby. Seriously. Refer to number one.
I have no problem with friends and family holding Beau, I know them, I trust them, I'm not worried that they have been making anthrax in their basement and just touched my kid (yes, it is irrational, that's what motherhood does to a person).
The lady who works at the local grocery store comments passive-aggressively every time we're in there that she wishes she could hold Beau. My thoughts on this: "Please, let me just get him out of the car seat it took me ten minutes to buckle him into, all while he is throwing a fit because he hates the stupid thing, then there is about an 80% chance he is going to take one look at you, realize that you're not me and throw another fit. Then you will promptly hand him back to me and I will have to begin the whole car seat thing AGAIN. Dare I even ask if you have washed your hands since you touched the money?"
On that note, I have a completely unrelated story to share. I took Beau to PetSmart yesterday to look at the animals. While we were walking around I started talking with a young woman who had a Pit Bull pup with her. We were talking, Beau was giggling at the puppy and suddenly the puppy began to poop right in the middle of the aisle. Beau thought it was the funniest thing he had ever seen and was laughing so hard he couldn't catch his breath. Oh, the joys of babies and puppies. The woman and I could not help but laugh at Beau, laughing at the pooping dog.
The other day Beau and I were at Home Depot, I was pushing him around the store and stopped to look at paint colors for the new house. An older couple passed and the woman immediately paused to talk to Beau. Beau stared at her husband in awe, which I contribute to the fact that he was wearing a Red Sox hat. Good boy, Beau. Anyway, this couple was very nice, chatted for a moment and walked on. A few minutes later she reappeared next to me with a paper paint sample in hand. She gave it to Beau and he promptly stuck it in his mouth. I learned the hard way a few days before that when these paint things get wet they disintegrate and Beau ends up with ink all over his face. I looked at the woman, smiled and said, 'oh, uh, thanks, but no, he is just going to eat it.' At this point I was reaching to remove said paper from my child's mouth. the woman looked at me and said, "well, now he has another one, doesn't he?" Why do people think it's okay to do this stuff? I looked at her, said 'No. Thank you.' and put the chewed paper in the diaper bag. The look she gave me said "do you really think you know better than me?" To which, in my mind, I said yes. He is my child and whether you agree with my parenting or not I know what my baby needs.
Then there was the trip to Target. I made it through the store with probably a bit more than I needed, but who doesn't at Target? At the check out the cashier at the register next to us started to ogle Beau. Then she noticed that he wasn't wearing any shoes or socks. This was about a month ago, so he wasn't even crawling yet. Not to mention that it was roughly ninety-five degrees out with what seemed like 1000% humidity. 'Why don't you have any shoes little one?' the questioning began. I don't really ever put socks on Beau unless it's chilly out, and I refuse to buy him $30 shoes before he is old enough to walk. And so I told her. She glared at me like I was the most unfit mother she had ever encountered. 'Not even socks? His little feet must be cold.' and that same disapproving look. I just sighed and said "Nope". What I really wanted to say goes something like this: 'It is ninety five degrees outside, he is crammed into a car seat that does not breath at all. I am lucky I got clothes on him at all, have you ever tried to dress a six month old that despises wearing clothing? For that matter, I'm lucky I even got a diaper on him, considering he turns into a Flying Wallenda when it's time to change him. Any other questions Lady???' When I told Brian later that day about the encounter he shook his head and said "Why is it any business of hers?"
Being in public with a baby means lots of unsolicited advice. Everything from 'He's too cold/he's too hot to why are you feeding him formula? You're already giving him baby food? He's teething; he looks small/big for his age'...the list goes on. I have learned to deal with most of it, a simple acknowledgement and smile usually does the trick.
I can deal with the advice, what I can't deal with are people who think it's okay to touch him. Why are people so obsessed with baby toes? At least once a day a stranger will reach over and touch his feet before I can maneuver him away.
1. I do not know you, I do not know where your hands have been. Did you wash them after you used the bathroom? Did you just pick up a thing of yucky, dripping raw chicken in the meat section and then touch my baby's foot which he will promptly put in his mouth the second he has a chance???
2. What is it about pregnant women and babies that just screams "please touch me, because I have never met you and am therefore fine with you patting my belly/rubbing my toes/touching my head, etc.? I have never had the impulse to reach out and touch a stranger just for the heck of it. Someone please explain this to me.
3. While I'm at it, why do people stare at extremely pregnant women like they are aliens? I thought I was alone on this one until a friend of mine brought it up to me. We were due within a month of each other and frequently compared stories about this. In particular it seems to be elderly men and young women. Maybe one is thinking "If only you knew what you're in store for", and the other is thinking "Is that what I'M going to look like??!!"
4. Strangers who ask if they can hold my baby. Seriously. Refer to number one.
I have no problem with friends and family holding Beau, I know them, I trust them, I'm not worried that they have been making anthrax in their basement and just touched my kid (yes, it is irrational, that's what motherhood does to a person).
The lady who works at the local grocery store comments passive-aggressively every time we're in there that she wishes she could hold Beau. My thoughts on this: "Please, let me just get him out of the car seat it took me ten minutes to buckle him into, all while he is throwing a fit because he hates the stupid thing, then there is about an 80% chance he is going to take one look at you, realize that you're not me and throw another fit. Then you will promptly hand him back to me and I will have to begin the whole car seat thing AGAIN. Dare I even ask if you have washed your hands since you touched the money?"
On that note, I have a completely unrelated story to share. I took Beau to PetSmart yesterday to look at the animals. While we were walking around I started talking with a young woman who had a Pit Bull pup with her. We were talking, Beau was giggling at the puppy and suddenly the puppy began to poop right in the middle of the aisle. Beau thought it was the funniest thing he had ever seen and was laughing so hard he couldn't catch his breath. Oh, the joys of babies and puppies. The woman and I could not help but laugh at Beau, laughing at the pooping dog.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Father's Day
I have an amazing Dad. My husband is an amazing Dad. I give them both credit, because it's not an easy job.
When I was a teenager I was miserable. By that I mean I know I was not easy to deal with. I hated school, I didn't like to do my homework, I never wanted to be home by curfew and I definitely got into my fair share of trouble. Through all of it my Dad was there. Always telling me, "This is for your own good". Now that I am older I know what he meant. My Dad made me strong, taught me life lessons, gave me the gift of storytelling and opened my eyes to many things. He is truly an inspiration to me, his strength through all he has dealt with is, to say the least, admirable.
When I was sixteen my parents took on the daunting task of teaching me to drive. I had been in a pretty nasty car accident months before, and remarkably escaped unscathed. I was not happy about driving, I was convinced that I would be relying on public transportation and my bicycle for the rest of my life. Nope. I can't remember what car we were using, but one day Dad decided we were going to drive around the block. I did pretty good for three quarters of it, then, pulling back onto our street it happened. I must have hit the gas a bit too hard, freaked out and over steered because the car ended up in the bushes of the house at the end of the street. Without thinking Dad told me to switch, got into the drivers seat and zipped down the road to our driveway. The bushes were fine, and the look on Dad's face is one I will never forget! I cannot help but smile every time I go home and drive past those bushes. I wonder if the neighbors ever noticed?
My Dad worked as a machinist for many years, first in the family business, then a few other places. When he was forty-nine (I hope I got that right!) he quit his job at a plastics manufacturing company and joined the Fire Department. I was amazed. I don't know many people who would do that, especially at that age. I attended Dad's graduation from the Fire Academy and I realized just how happy he looked. He was finally doing something that made him happy.
My Dad was the real reason I joined the military at twenty-nine, he's also the reason I wanted to be an EMT. So, to you Dad, I say Thank You! Not just for the inspiration, but for helping to make me who I am.
When I was a teenager I was miserable. By that I mean I know I was not easy to deal with. I hated school, I didn't like to do my homework, I never wanted to be home by curfew and I definitely got into my fair share of trouble. Through all of it my Dad was there. Always telling me, "This is for your own good". Now that I am older I know what he meant. My Dad made me strong, taught me life lessons, gave me the gift of storytelling and opened my eyes to many things. He is truly an inspiration to me, his strength through all he has dealt with is, to say the least, admirable.
When I was sixteen my parents took on the daunting task of teaching me to drive. I had been in a pretty nasty car accident months before, and remarkably escaped unscathed. I was not happy about driving, I was convinced that I would be relying on public transportation and my bicycle for the rest of my life. Nope. I can't remember what car we were using, but one day Dad decided we were going to drive around the block. I did pretty good for three quarters of it, then, pulling back onto our street it happened. I must have hit the gas a bit too hard, freaked out and over steered because the car ended up in the bushes of the house at the end of the street. Without thinking Dad told me to switch, got into the drivers seat and zipped down the road to our driveway. The bushes were fine, and the look on Dad's face is one I will never forget! I cannot help but smile every time I go home and drive past those bushes. I wonder if the neighbors ever noticed?
My Dad worked as a machinist for many years, first in the family business, then a few other places. When he was forty-nine (I hope I got that right!) he quit his job at a plastics manufacturing company and joined the Fire Department. I was amazed. I don't know many people who would do that, especially at that age. I attended Dad's graduation from the Fire Academy and I realized just how happy he looked. He was finally doing something that made him happy.
 |
| Dad, in the middle with his hand on his hip and the biggest smile ever. |
I met my husband at a bar on September 11, 2010. My ex had moved out about a month before and while I did not miss him, I was lonely. I had spent the morning at the botanical gardens and could not stand to go home to an empty house for the rest of the day. I headed to the local bar, deciding that I would have a 'couple' beers and watch baseball. At that point in my life there really was no such thing as only having a couple beers. So I sat, enjoying my heady buzz, watching baseball, then football, talking to whoever happened to sit next to me. After a few hours I was pretty drunk, and this guy came over to talk to me. His pick up line went like this "I just watched you put down like three of those big beers and I'm still working on one." Gotta give the guy credit for creativity. We spent the rest of the afternoon sharing drinks and talking, even with my insistence that I wasn't looking to date anyone, he stayed right there, on the bar stool next to me. It was a long night, completely innocent as far as I was concerned. Just too many beers and some bar food with a nice guy. We exchanged numbers and I reminded him that I wasn't interested in dating. He texted me the next day and asked if I wanted to hang out, I was way too hung over and told him no thanks.
Over the course of the week we continued to text back and forth, talking about random things, what movies we liked, our favorite foods, etc. I had drill that weekend, and was stuck on post out of town. The guy texted me that Saturday and asked if I wanted to go out. He used the same exact wording he had the day after our initial meeting. It must have been his persistence and charm, because I said yes. Sunday afternoon, once drill was over, I got dolled up and headed to meet him at (of course) the bar. I remember being worried because I almost couldn't remember what he looked like. When I walked in and saw him my first thought was 'Thank God, he really is cute'.
Looking back I never would have thought that we would be where we are now. We were together for about six months when he proposed. We got married the a few months later, the day after a beach vacation, on the back deck at his house. The only people there were us, the officiant, Brian's mom and a friend who took our pictures. By late October I was pregnant. We were ecstatic. Then I had a miscarriage. We were devastated. We had some terrible arguments in the couple months that followed, fueled by alcohol and hurt emotions. But never once did I think that we wouldn't work.
We moved into a new apartment together in December of 2011, by the end of February I was pregnant again. The drinking had stopped, the arguing had let up and we had started to dream about our baby.
Flash forward to today, Father's Day 2013. Brian is currently sleeping late, with Beau curled up in bed right next to him. Brian worked yesterday, just to make extra money for our new house. He works as many hours as he can so we can have the things we need. He comes home exhausted and still helps me with the house, he cooks dinner most nights, and he plays with Beau. He talks to Beau about how they will build things together in the future, how he is going to make Beau the best tree house ever and take him fishing and play baseball with him.
 |
| Brian and Beau. |
He is an amazing father, an amazing husband and the love of my life. Brian is truly my best friend, my soul mate and my confidant. I don't think I really knew what it is to be in love with someone before I met Brian. He makes my world go round and I can't imagine my life without him.
To my Dad and my husband, I say thank you, again. I don't think I say it enough and I don't think they know how much they mean to me. Happy Father's Day.
To my Dad and my husband, I say thank you, again. I don't think I say it enough and I don't think they know how much they mean to me. Happy Father's Day.
Monday, June 10, 2013
Life Changes
It's been a little over a week since I last sat down to write and I'm struggling a bit this morning. So many things have changed over the past two weeks, it all makes my head spin a little. The weekend before vacation we were visiting with Brian's parents, chatting and someone brought up his grandmother's house. She passed away about a month ago and left a house that my father in-law and his siblings were planning to sell. Hmmm...Brian and I are desperately looking to get out of our apartment. So the talk turned to us possibly buying the house. We gathered up Beau and all of us headed over to take a look at the place. I had only been there once, and had only seen one room. Well, we got there and to my surprise there is a big fenced-in backyard. And four bedrooms, and a sun room...and my head instantly filled with ideas. The sun room would be a breakfast nook/green house. Beau would have his own bedroom, I could have a craft room and Brian would have the obligatory 'man cave'.
Things moved fast from there. Two days later Brian was putting together paperwork for a mortgage pre-approval. Two days after that we got pre-approved. This past Saturday we went and signed the preliminary contract. And BAM, we are getting a house!!!
Holy cow, I thought it would be years before I would be saying that. The house needs a lot of work but it has tons of potential. We have to get the inspection, appraisal and termite inspection done, and if all goes well we will be closing on July 28th. I can't wipe the smile off my face right now. Thinking about the dogs running in the backyard, seeing Beau chase after them, hopefully having another baby, it is perfection. And the fact that I get to share it all with my wonderful husband, that he made it all happen is like a dream.
I haven't posted anything on Facebook yet, which has been hard for me to do, I think because it does still seem like a dream. I don't think I will fully believe it until the day we move in. We've been over there a few times to look at it now, I've already picked out paint for most of the rooms and have planned my flower gardens. Brian already has plans for his man cave and his garage. The dogs have not been over there yet, but I'm sure they will have some plans of their own for the backyard, Ruby likes to dig.
So, obviously, the house is the biggest change for all of us, but Beau has made some pretty big changes, too. We spent last week at the beach with some friends and their baby girl. Watching the two little ones play was adorable. Their baby is about a month older than Beau, so naturally she is doing things he hadn't yet. Beau is very observant and apparently watching his little friend crawl around the floor was the motivation he needed. I was sitting on the floor playing with him lat night and watched as he scooted right across the floor to get my cell phone. Now he doesn't want to do anything but practice, and each time he gets a little higher off his belly and a little farther in distance. Too cute! He is also babbling more and saying Mama and Dada, which any parenting book will tell you is just him working on his speech. Brian and I, of course, are in agreement that he is directing it towards us. Our little boy never ceases to amaze me. He is in my opinion the best thing that has ever happened. I'm pretty sure he will be walking next week.
With all of the changes over the past (almost) seven months, I have been overwhelmed, dealt with depression and anxiety, but all of a sudden things seem to falling into place. Like life is saying, 'here, you guys deserve this', and putting all of the pieces together.
With that said, I think I will end my writing for today. I have to go play with my beautiful little boy and pack for our new house!
*If there are words missing an M please ignore it. I try to spell check everything but the M button on my keyboard sticks and for some reason spell check doesn't always catch it.
Things moved fast from there. Two days later Brian was putting together paperwork for a mortgage pre-approval. Two days after that we got pre-approved. This past Saturday we went and signed the preliminary contract. And BAM, we are getting a house!!!
Holy cow, I thought it would be years before I would be saying that. The house needs a lot of work but it has tons of potential. We have to get the inspection, appraisal and termite inspection done, and if all goes well we will be closing on July 28th. I can't wipe the smile off my face right now. Thinking about the dogs running in the backyard, seeing Beau chase after them, hopefully having another baby, it is perfection. And the fact that I get to share it all with my wonderful husband, that he made it all happen is like a dream.
I haven't posted anything on Facebook yet, which has been hard for me to do, I think because it does still seem like a dream. I don't think I will fully believe it until the day we move in. We've been over there a few times to look at it now, I've already picked out paint for most of the rooms and have planned my flower gardens. Brian already has plans for his man cave and his garage. The dogs have not been over there yet, but I'm sure they will have some plans of their own for the backyard, Ruby likes to dig.
So, obviously, the house is the biggest change for all of us, but Beau has made some pretty big changes, too. We spent last week at the beach with some friends and their baby girl. Watching the two little ones play was adorable. Their baby is about a month older than Beau, so naturally she is doing things he hadn't yet. Beau is very observant and apparently watching his little friend crawl around the floor was the motivation he needed. I was sitting on the floor playing with him lat night and watched as he scooted right across the floor to get my cell phone. Now he doesn't want to do anything but practice, and each time he gets a little higher off his belly and a little farther in distance. Too cute! He is also babbling more and saying Mama and Dada, which any parenting book will tell you is just him working on his speech. Brian and I, of course, are in agreement that he is directing it towards us. Our little boy never ceases to amaze me. He is in my opinion the best thing that has ever happened. I'm pretty sure he will be walking next week.
With all of the changes over the past (almost) seven months, I have been overwhelmed, dealt with depression and anxiety, but all of a sudden things seem to falling into place. Like life is saying, 'here, you guys deserve this', and putting all of the pieces together.
With that said, I think I will end my writing for today. I have to go play with my beautiful little boy and pack for our new house!
*If there are words missing an M please ignore it. I try to spell check everything but the M button on my keyboard sticks and for some reason spell check doesn't always catch it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)