I'd like to think that I'm organized. I try hard to maintain that sort of mania that drives the guys to manic when I am requested that they continue to keep up the looks of how things are placed.
Our new home has given us new space, to store things. Naturally the house takes time to be put where it should be, and it is slowly working itself out. In the past I would have had to have it all "right," within 2weeks of moving in, but I have slowed down my urge to put everything in it's place immediately. Better for me to enjoy it in doses, which works.
But one thing I suck at, is pictures. I'm serious, I S.U.C.K P.I.X.E.L.S. If you were to walk into our home, and I were to show you around, you would see one hallway closet recently painted a happy blue, with all the board games on the top shelf, spaced and stacked based on size. You would see a table in that closet as well, with an area for the boys homework. Each folder, with their names, so they know where to put their work for the week. If that system wasn't in place, we would be overwhelmed with papers. It's crazy the amount of papers that come home from their backpacks.
You would see as we walked upstairs a small cabinet that when opened, would have picture albums in it. There are a good amount stored in this whatever you call it piece of furniture.
But if you were to sit down and pull out each album, browsing through each one, you would view more of my past as a little girl, teenager, voting age, drinking age, having Jackson, getting married, and one more unfilled one, that has such sweet adoring pictures of Sullivan when he was just a baby. When we still lived in Florida, our fun home on the lake. But that would be it.
Inserts remain yet to be filled.
It's pathetic that I haven't updated my pictures. It makes me nuts. The more I picture it, the more annoyed I get at my poor follow up. I have yet to get any of my 1000+ pictures, off of the online storage sites that I belong to. Not one of the online prints from the past, are in albums.
Sure I've managed to get a few off my camera from this wedding or that shower to put in my framed wall pictures, but nothing in albums.
I could start with the most oldest album and order print by print one new album in one month. Then I could buy more albums. But to start something like that will be time consuming and expensive. So for now I continue to take as many pictures as I can, and upload them onto my online picture webpage. I've started somewhere, which is good. But I'd much prefer to be here, in albums, upstairs in that cabinet next door to the boys bedrooms.
I decided to start it today. Small. I had to get some pictures off my camera anyways, so I figured "while I was there," except just like my real albums, I got caught up in looking at a majority of albums online.
I'm browsing my online albums and then I get to July of 2006: when I had Ben.
I should be happy to see how amazing that time was. I shouldn't sit here and get lumpy. As Brian said to me, "why be depressed about it, instead look at it and be glad you have experienced it." He's so right, I know. But unless you're a woman you cannot understand why. Carrying the boys for 9months, and the waiting and the newborn exhaustive stage, and so on..is hard. No matter how many you have. It gets easier, and you gain more confidence, you learn what to relax on, and what to work on, and you recognize the different personalities of each little one. It's hard, but amazingly fun, in the same, if that makes sense.
But that's behind me now.
It's obvious from all the albums. The last 9months I experienced ended in July 2006. The one where we were told I was losing the baby. The baby that took us awhile to create, ironically. I'll never forget that drive home, alone in my car passing my old Highschool crying on the phone to my Dad about what was going on. That was how my parents found out that Brian and I were expecting our 3rd child. Me calling my dad to try to reach my Mom telling her I was on my way home to lay in my bed until I pass the "embryo." As the Doctor put it. It's not a viable pregnancy. They knew from the "internal ultrasound."
Ever see one of those? The wand for the internal ultrasound? It makes those Lovers Lane products appear to be made for sissies.
All this occurring sometime at the beginning of December.
But, of course, for only the Universe knows why, the little being inside of me didn't leave. It grew and kicked the hell out of my ribs more so then the other 2.
He arrived and he was a happy boy.
So seeing all of those images, brought back every ounce of emotion that wasn't just from Ben, but also from Sullivan, and Jackson. I felt every second of every pregnancy in a matter of minutes, as I sat looking through all the pictures of Ben's birth.
It reminded me, as I already said, that those "parts" of the scares and the celebrations that new life brings, were now all behind me.
I'm not sure that I like that too much.
I'm not saying I'd want them to stay little.
I'm saying that I wish it wasn't over.
"That part" of my life being over.
It's been that way for awhile now. I have a pretty good idea why, but the fact is, that right now, whenever I look at pictures of my babies actually being a few hours old, or the pictures that contain my first kiss to my son's pink gooey cheeks, makes me want more first kisses. More kids.
I wonder how many women experience this. I wonder how long it lasts. I wonder what they do to work through it. How do they know it's just because everyone else is walking around with bumps.
It has nothing either, this time, to do with having a girl. I have dreams of having more children. Ironically each dream I have, I'm having a boy. Each dream I have a different name for each son. So far I've had 3 more sons, in my dreams. So, again, it's not the girl thing. Although I do have a killer name for a little girl that would suit this family.
I am just hopeful that this "phase," is just that. A phase. A short phase. Because we're into the 2ND trimester of this short phase and I'm really hoping I'm not going to carry pregnancy dreams of desiring other little men for the next 5months.
Ironically, as I had just summed up my last paragraph, Brian comes downstairs and says, "Do you know Ben is outside?" Um, no I didn't. I'm in here typing this and Ben was just here having me load up Jackson's clonewars gun. I didn't hear him open the front door, or run around our front yard with 2 other boys from down the street.
Maybe that's "you know who," reminding me what my max capacity is. Because the little bammer managed to open the door, leave it partially open, while I'm in here whining about wanting more.
At least Ben didn't let the dog out, and I am grateful that he's smart enough to stay in the front yard. He does have that going for him. Plus after bringing him in immediately, he knew he was busted. He burst into tears because he knew how poor of a choice had just made. When I asked him, "you know you've made a poor decision, you know because your eyes are crying." "What decision did you just make to cause this?"
His reply in the midst of tears? "I wowee Mom-E I wen oudide wif me sochs just."
Well, what can I say, that was a first as well.
I'm also grateful that he'll never do this again, because of the "chat" we just had.
It's okay, you can slam my mother skills, I'm not perfect at all.
But at least this experience was a first.
It will be a last as well.
Lesson learned on my part.
Glad that this is one of those things that will never repeat itself.
Now, if you'll excuse me, my little bammer needs some snuggling.