Dreamers embrace routines

One of us is way more excited about this walk than the other.

It has taken some getting used to.

We waited forever for Kenna to come home.  And we worked our butts off to make it happen.

We struggled to make the home ready for her, safe for her.  We struggled to learn how to care for her, since this little one came home with hardware and pumps and monitors...oh my.

It wasn't easy.

Ah, but we know that anything worth having is worth working for.  Anything worth doing is worth doing well.  We don't do anything halfway.

So we threw ourselves into being Kenna's parents.  And it worked.  Kenna is thriving.  We are thoroughly exhausted.  Finally we have managed to get organized.  We have managed to establish a routine.

Parents live and die by routines.

In having a routine, I am able to accomplish more.  I am writing more for Yahoo!.  I am writing maintaining Suddenly *Not So *Single Journey five days a week again.  I'm even dabbling over here, rekindling my dreams.

Most importantly...I have started exercising again.

Technically, I started two weeks ago.  I worked out twice that week.  I hurt so bad, I took the weekend off and most of the following week.  I managed to exercise again twice that week.  But on Monday, I vowed to start the week right.  I wanted Kenna to get some fresh air.  So, I am walking with my little girl.  She mostly sleeps in the stroller.  And I'm good with that.

I have even managed to get more work done around the house.  We are organizing and remodeling...for a change.  And it is starting to feel comfortable to me.  I needed that...on account of I spend so much time at home.  

Before I know it, life will be a comfortable new normal.  I'll be back in my writing groove.   I'll be feeling fabulous about our year.  I hate feeling like I am wasting time.  Time...is precious.  And time with family and friends...even more precious.

Hope you have time for family and friends and that your routines let you grow.

Dreamers apologize...

I'm sorry that I haven't been writing as much.  I'm sorry that I haven't been doing well with keeping you informed and in the loop. 

To say that we have been busy is a gross understatement. 

We have about torn the house apart over the past month.  There is an order to all remodeling projects.  And what started as a simple plan of replacing the ancient carpeting in the house with hardwoods so that Kenna could breathe became so much more.  The ceiling in the bedroom had to be scraped first.  The walls had to be painted.  It forced us to finally commit and finish the great room.  It made is finally paint the hall and change out that light.  It forced us to finally turn our master bedroom into the oasis we needed.

I've been busy reconnecting with Rachel.  In so many ways, we are back where we were before with the constant communication and sharing.  There are still some wounds that need to heal, but this is a very promising start.

And I've been busy with court.  It's a long story.  Let's just say that our gentleman's agreement only works if both parties adhere to it.  I'm a lady.  I've kept my word.  And my ex...well, he is no gentleman. 

Bishop has been a challenge as of late.  The floors are a bit much for him.  He acts like Bambi on ice.  And he's been sick.  The seasonal allergies are killing him.

What little free time I have goes to cleaning and gardening and time with Kenna...because Sam has given me the house of my dreams, so I need to take care of it.  He's given me the gardens of my dreams (herb and vegetable) so I have to maintain them.  And we all know that Kenna is what happens when two dreamers fall in love.  She's had a bit of a rough spell, but I just go and love her through it.  It's working.

Kenna is in a crib now.  And she's doing so much better breathing.  And if we can just get this feeding thing under control...she'll be practically ready to come home. 

There's this magical place we've heard about...the Special Care Nursery.  It's where babies go to grow and feed before coming home.  It's the last stop in the hospital.  And we're working on getting there.  It's close.  I can feel it.

And while we work toward all this...my apologies for not being better at posting.  Of course you can follow our progress daily on Facebook. 

Dreamers know sometimes wishes are horses

You know the saying.

If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride.

Well, this dreamer is riding.

Exactly six months ago, Rachel moved out.  It wasn't a nice move.  It wasn't an easy move.

I was pregnant and having her leave so abruptly on such bad terms to go live with her boyfriend really hurt my feelings.  And I didn't know how our relationship would ever recover.  There were plenty more hurts along the way.  She ignored my Thanksgiving calls and texts.  She wasn't in touch for Christmas while I was on bed rest.  She ignored my congrats over her graduation and we weren't invited.  And she never contacted me when I had Kenna.

I often wondered how we could ever repair that damage.  The truth is...love finds a way.

I heard she was having some problems and I did what mothers do.  I reached out.  I knew that stubborn teenage pride would prevent her from contacting me.  And so I contacted her.  A door that was once closed, locked, and nailed shut...opened.

We have been talking daily since by text and on the phone.  The closeness we always shared didn't die.  It didn't even fade.  It's more patina now.

We're making plans to all get together, to mend broken bonds between Rachel and step-Sam.  He took this just as hard as I did.  He and Rachel had a great relationship...the closeness I had always hoped she'd have with her own father.  They talked and joked around.  He took her job hunting, helped her return applications and brought her to interviews.  He would pick her up from school and bring her to the doctor.  He was the best extension of me.  And together, they would do really sweet things for me...like make dinner, plan surprise parties, and buy me presents.

I've missed our family.  Sure, Keenan has been more outgoing without Rachel around.  At the same time, I need all my children with me.  To say that I'm thrilled to have her in our life again would be a gross understatement.  We're all going to benefit from this.  Rachel needs her mom.  She even needs step-Sam.  Kenna, she will have a big sister and a big brother.  And Keenan won't be stuck in the middle...not that he ever seems impacted by tension.

This dreamer is riding high and riding happy.  Life is good.

Dreamers stay ridiculously busy

Our floors in progress...

I guess it was about 2pm Monday that Sam called me at home, just as I was headed to the hospital.  And when I am at the hospital or on the way to the hospital...I don't really hear anything.  I am super focused on Kenna. 

Then I arrived home that night and realized that I was supposed to help move furniture after making and cleaning up from dinner.  That...was not my favorite night.  By the time we settled in it was after nine.  And after watching a few shows, our night was over.

Tuesday morning came entirely too quickly.  And waking up to Bishop peeing in our bedroom was not the way I planned to start my day.  Yes, Bishop is on meds after his trip to the vet.  Of course the dog is on steroids, too.  Yes, the biggest and smallest family members are rocking the 'roids.  So, he is prone to pee.  This I understand.  What I don't understand is why he didn't let us know he needed to pee.  And I also don't know why I am always on bodily function clean up. 

Being a mom is not the most glorious role I've ever had.

And then there are these moments...moments I would trade for anything.  Moments like...holding Kenna.  I rushed from the house after helping move more of our stuff.  You never realize how much stuff you have until you move or have to remove it from it's location.  Yeah.  We have plenty of stuff.

The drive to the hospital was lovely.  No traffic.  And I made it to the hospital with time to spare.  Soon enough, I was snuggling Kenna.  She does so well just laying there in my arms or up against my chest.  She just relaxes.  She lets me touch her hands and often squeezes back.  Her breathing is better.  Her sats are better.  She is calmer.  It's just the ideal situation for her...mommy-Kenna snuggle time.

We had a big meeting with one of our distributors yesterday and all the big wigs.  It was interesting.  People are never how you expect them to be.  And meetings never go precisely as planned.  I know this.  I set my expectations low and prepare for anything.  In all honesty, it went pretty much exactly how I expected.  It was Sam who was surprised and disappointed. 

Then it was an early bedtime because...we have no living room.  And there was nothing we needed to do...really.

Sam: We should spend more time in here.  We have a really nice bedroom.

me: I used to shut down the house after dinner and hang out with the kids in my room.  I love hanging out in the master bedroom.

Sam: You could have done that here.

Yeah, I could have, but if I did we wouldn't be where we are today.  We needed to bond.  He needed to learn how to share his life.  He needed to figure out how to be with someone.  And I had just about enough patience to teach him.  And I needed to get used to being with someone, too.  Marriage doesn't always mean togetherness.

So, we've been busy.  All indications are that we will be staying busy the rest of the week.  I just can't wait to get to the hospital for snuggle time.

Dreamers know good things grow

We have been busy around the house lately.  And it is so nice to start seeing the fruits of our labors.

Take the master bedroom, for example.  I am in love with the paint.  I love it.  And to think we picked right the first time.  Because that is so not our style.  The great room took forever.  Yup.  And I'm not even in love with the results.  I like the room...but not in the same way I love love love the master.

We went with a green...Irish Paddock.  Of course.  I knew I could convince my Irish man to go with a green that color, since I couldn't get the color I really wanted: Green Water.  He said it was too blue.  He hates blue in the bedroom because my old house had a blue bedroom.  There's nothing getting by him.

Ah, but what really makes the room...aside from the newly scraped ceiling...the taupe suede wall.  It's an easy paint treatment.  And it makes the room.  It's the perfect accent wall.

So, when it came time to paint the hall, since it needs to be done before the floors...I went with the same green.  And the way that new light shines on it...perfection.

What does this mean?

No more painting.  Thankfully.  Because not only do I not enjoy painting, but I rather suck at it.  Really.

Thus it's on to new projects.  We have our new windows coming in.  And the Hardie is on order.  This house will be practically new by the time Kenna comes home.  We're doing everything we can to make it energy efficient and lung friendly.

Kenna's lungs are really having a rough time.  I look forward to the day when she is healed, but the doctors and nurses tell us it could take a good year or more.  And we're already having to tell friends that they can't hold Kenna.  She has no immune system.  The doctors and nurses have warned us no one should hold her, other than her parents.   I'll do what it takes to make sure that she's healthy.  Kenna's health comes first.

And I guess that's one of the reasons I wanted to grow a garden this year.  I figured I could make baby food from all the fresh vegetables.  It's a start.  And so I'm super proud that they have started growing.

I'm working my butt off now so that when Kenna comes home, I can focus on being a mom and taking care of her.  The business should only take a few hours of my day.  That leaves plenty of snuggle time.  And that baby girl deserves all the snuggles she can get after her rough start.  We can't wait to make it up to her.

Dreamers know one project leads to another

I love the new paint color.

It all started with one simple idea.  We should use my tax money to get new floors before Kenna comes home.  She has premature lung disease and the thirty year old carpets weren't going to make it any easier for her around the house.  Having already survived one preemie and knowing his special needs, we wanted to do everything we could for Kenna.

And so we picked the flooring.  It arrived.  It was delivered.  And it still sits clogging up my dining room.  It has to.  Little did I know that so many projects would stem off this one simple idea.

Oh, but in remodeling, this is what happens.  We realized that if we were going to do new floors, we'd better have the walls and ceiling just right or we'll later ruin them. 

So, the ceiling in the master bedroom needed to be scraped.  The kids' rooms had been done before we moved in...new ceilings, new paint, new carpet, new lighting, and amazing trim work.  Sam is super handy to have around. 

We had installed blinds so that my peeping ex could no longer see in and we bought curtains to go over the blinds.  But other than painting an accent wall and new lamps for the nightstands, we hadn't done anything to the master.  And I'm guessing we passed on this because we knew how much work it would be.  The kids' rooms were easy.  There was no furniture in there, nothing to work around.  It was perfect.  Our room, loaded with furniture far from perfect. 

The ceiling has been scraped and painted.  The lighting has been reattached.  The back wall is painted a lovely shade of taupe in a suede treatment.  I bet you had no idea I was so talented.  I'm not.  It's easy.  And the rest of the walls are being painted.  Yes, we are almost done.  For now.  There will be new furniture in the future. 

And the garden is very nearly planted.  It would have been all done, but for the fact that there was not enough dirt.  We have to import it since we are built on a boulder topped with clay.  It's not exactly conducive to a garden.  It's barely conducive to grass...although the weeds seem to thrive.

Just when I thought our remodeling was coming to an end...Sam and I were snuggling on the couch Saturday night.  We were proud of all we had accomplished thus far.

Sam: You know...one of my crew members blows insulation.  He said he'd give me a good price for the attic.  We're loosing a lot of heat and wasting a lot of air in this old place.

me: Yes, but what about the kitchen?

Sam: What about the kitchen.

me: Well, we talked about taking out the drop down ceiling and how you'd have to climb through the attic.  Would that still be possible?

And that is why Sam ended up taking down the kitchen ceiling last night.  We have to get that done before the insulation.  The end is in sight.  I can almost see it.  I've given this a lot of thought.  And I'm not sure there are many more projects to be completed around here.  Really.  Aside from the kitchen and master bath...we're good.

Soon, I'll share pictures to prove it.  And with any luck, Kenna will be home soon to enjoy it.

Dreamers overdo it

Saturday was a huge day for me.  Huge, I tell you.

I managed to publish my latest book, Live the List, on Friday night and discovered it was ready for distribution Saturday morning.  And that meant I had to start driving sales.  To do that, I also changed the price of all my books.  Yes, that should help.  And I wrote a post on Suddenly Single Journey, prepared the Facebook fan page, and the Live the List Challenge.

It was a lot of work, but it was only the beginning.

Then I spoke to Jennie and she told me that she was on the way.  So, I had to clean.  Some.  Sam helped.  He vacuumed for me.  And by the time that was done, I was tired.  Really tired.

Ah, and Jennie hadn't even arrived yet.  Soon she did.  That's when the real fun began.  We had a list of things to do that was the length of my arm.  Jennie had agreed to run to Macy's with us because of an amazing sale.  And we had plans to do the baby registry at Target.  Then we had the Carolina Christmas to attend.  It was going to be a long day.

It really was. 

And I have to tell you, I was really surprised about Sam.  He decided to join me and Jennie on the shopping part.  He was already going to do the Carolina Christmas with us.  I didn't expect that.  In fact, we had discussed that he wasn't really interested in working on the baby registry with me.  He figured I kind of knew all there was about that kind of thing and he was leaving it up to my whims.  I do like that sometimes.

But something changed in him that morning.

He received an email about the sale at Macy's.  And next thing I know, he's looking at baby clothes.  He's helping me pick baby clothes.  And he's talking about buying some baby clothes.  With the holiday sales and the fact that there was an additional 20% off for using his card, it meant some serious bargain shopping.

Next thing you know, Sam is with us shopping at Macy's and completing the baby registry.  I think even he was a little surprised about it.  And Jennie was impressed.

Jennie: None of my guys like shopping.

Sam really enjoys shopping.  And he participated in our shopping experience.  It was great.  He was funny and sweet and supportive.  He was enthusiastic.  He offered opinions about the various outfits.  And I have to tell you, it was nice having his input.

He even found the perfect rocking chair.  He has decided that if he's going to have to rock the little one to sleep, he's going to be comfortable.  So, he tried out some rockers while we worked on the registry.  And he made a few simple requests...frog towels...that I was more than happy to oblige.  He lifted down the perfect stroller.  It's a car seat and stroller made by Safety First.  It works with babies as little as 4 pounds.  That matters for me.  We'll be having a preemie.

All I know is that the day was painless and fun.  The evening was even better.  By the time it was over, we had managed to wear me out.  I was so stiff and sore I could barely move.  That was all reason Sam needed to massage me.  I loved it.  He spoils me.  And I think part of the reason he does is because I appreciate him so much.

Sometimes I push myself too hard.  It all works out.  And I probably needed the exercise.

Dreamers see magic everywhere!

The last few days have been super special.

I had a momentary panic when I was expecting money from a company, but the money never arrived.  I was pretty much counting on it to pay bills.  There are always bills and there isn't always money.

So, when I contacted the company and asked when the money might arrive, I discovered it in the mail box later that day.

Magic.
 

And while I know I'm supposed to have this voracious appetite because I'm eating for two and all, I haven't yet.  Nope.  Not even a little bit.

Then there was yesterday.  The appetite hit full force.  I couldn't get enough food.  I ate two apples.  I ate a bowl of cereal.  I ate a twelve inch Subway sandwich.  I barely chewed the granola bar.  (So, it's not like I'm eating super unhealthy...)  Oh, not all in one sitting, either.  This was over the course of the day... And then, just when I was thinking I would find nothing to satisfy the food urges, a package arrived in the mail.

My mother sent all the Christmas presents already.  She's amazing like that.  When I grow up, I hope I can be that organized.

And in that package...homemade peanut butter balls.  They are the best magic ever.

I can bake.  I can cook.  I have not even attempted to make these, even though I have the recipe, even though I've watched her do it dozens of times through the years.  I don't think I have the skill or patience.

Ah, but magic.

Magic is like finding moments of happiness for me.

It seems fitting.  I just read a post that T put up on Facebook.  It rings so true.  It's all about what happy people do differently.  Why they really are happy.  And I'm doing pretty well.  Check it out. 

It gave me areas for improvement.  It reminded me of what I'm doing right.  And it's the kind of thing I want to share with all those I know and love.  So...enjoy it.  And embrace it.  And live it.  Be happy.

Sometimes dreamers just have to vent

I love my husband.  No one would ever doubt that.  Everyone he knows, everyone he meets, just about everyone he interacts with tells him I love him.  I guess I just exude how I feel.  That's who I am.  And while it gives him the roots and wings he needs in our relationship, there are still moments where he just ticks me off.

Take the last few nights.

Right now...sleep is at a premium.  I need to get all I can while I can because before you know it, it will be a whole lot of sleeplessness going on.  I will be up doing feedings.  I will be doing tons of baby care and there will be a struggle to balance it all with working from home.  I look forward to it.  You know how I love a challenge.  And babies are the best kind of challenge I know.

So, Sam hasn't been sleeping.  He gets all worked up about life and all worried and then he can't turn his mind off.  He will nap, here and there, but then he can't get back to sleep.  And the little co-dependent that I am, I can't sleep without him there.  I fall asleep on the couch some nights while we snuggle and watch television.  I fall asleep happily in bed and rest, truly rest, with him there.  We touch constantly, so his absence is felt acutely.  And lately, I have been roused from my sleep because he's gone.  He'll be in the living room watching television at 3am or on the computer hoping to find work.  And I'll be awake, nearly bereft due to his insomnia.

It's caused some issues.

I snapped on him.  I even raised my voice about his stupid zoo game on his phone and how he can't sleep because he plays it non-stop and that he would sleep if he weren't distracted by the television and that he really just sucks for leaving me in bed while he hangs out in the living room.  Or something like that.

It didn't help.

He didn't get more sleep.  He did, however, work really hard to make it all up to me.  He knows I'm tired.  He knows I'm cranky.  And he's doing his best to make me happy.

I see it.  I know.

And so while I made breakfast, I discovered that he had already taken out the garbage, sprayed the can, and inserted a new bag.  These are all critical steps.  It matters.

And during breakfast, he snuggled me on the couch and watched a show with me and Keenan that he's never had any interest in.  Here's my plug for Once Upon A Time.  Check it out!

And before he left for the day, we set up the train set under the tree and played with Bishop.  He hugged me an extra long time and said sweet sweet things to tide me over until his return.

Ah, but best of all, when I went to go take my shower, I discovered that he had already made the bed, my way, not his.  (I take the time to fold down the blanket and fluff the pillows, he merely pulls it up any old way and leaves the pillows a mess.  I'm such a girl.)

So, I was mad.  I'm not any more.  How could I be?  And I know that my being upset is unreasonable.  It all comes down to...yes, the need for sleep, but also the need for the TLC.  He comforts me.  He's home to me.  And I treasure our sleepy time together.  It was just last night that I about crawled into him and reminded him that everything was going to change in a few months.  It's going to go fast.  It always does.

Time.

That's why I try not to waste it being angry.  And that's why he tries to keep me happy.  Thankfully, I'm not so stubborn that I don't see there are other ways he gives me the TLC I crave.  I am blessed.  Sleep will come.

Dreamers decorate their life

I love Christmas.  I love decorating the house for the holidays. 

When I grew up, my one desire was to have a fireplace and a mantel for hanging stockings.  To mean, the hearth is the heart of the home.  I guess I'm really old fashioned at heart. 

So one of the features that really does make this my dream home...the fireplace.  I love it.  And I really love it decorated.

This year...a real tree.

And I have already discovered the pros and cons of a real tree.  On the one hand, I love that the house smells like tree.  It is so nice to have the scent of it lingering in the living room.  I think it looks so pretty with all the white lights on it. 

Ah, but there's a dark side to trees.  I am having to vacuum way more than I ever wanted to.  In fact, I don't think I've had to vacuum this much since Bishop was a puppy.  And there's the constant watering.  Every day.  Sometimes twice.  So...you'd think there would be less needles dropping, right?

Still, I cherish this last month of every year where the house goes out with a bang, just like the year.  I love our lit garland mantle.  I love the warm cozy.  And I'll treasure every minute of the next few weeks until we de-decorate and burn the tree.

Dreamers can't stay mad for long

I woke up at about 5:30am to the bedroom light being on, and Sam talking to me.  And my first instinct was to respond to his questions.  I don't even remember what they were now.  My first thought was...

me: Why is the bedroom light on?

Sam: I have to get ready.  I have to make some money.

me: Yes. That I get.  What I don't get is why the bedroom light is on.

We had just gone to bed at 1:30am.  He couldn't get tired.  A product of over thinking.  Part of me wanted to get mad.  He'd be mad at me if he was awakened a good hour before he had to get up.  He'd huff and he'd puff.  Me, I just laid there and stared at the ceiling.

Sam: I'm ready now.  Want the light off?

me: Nope.  It's too late now.

So, I woke up.  I started to get ready.  I made breakfast with Keenan.  We ate and watched our show.  But I couldn't stop thinking about how my life has changed.  I can barely get mad at Sam, let alone stay mad at Sam. 

And maybe it has nothing to do with the fact that I'm a dreamer.  Maybe instead it has to do with how much I love him.  Because I do love him so very much.  Very very very much.

And I don't know if I can adequately express how much I love him, but I'll try.  It's such a new and different experience for me.  Really.

In my first marriage, I would get so upset that I would just stay mad.  And I wrapped myself in all that hurt and disappointment to protect my heart.  And I never allowed myself to love.  Oh, I loved my children.  I gave them everything.  So, we ended up divorcing and I married Sam.

Then there's how life is with Sam.  It's not perfect, but we always work through everything.  And a big part of it is that I can't stay mad at him.  And he hates when I'm mad at him to begin with.

We want to be happy.  And we want to work through things.  And we want this life we're building together.

I think I can't stay mad at him because of the love.  And I try not to be mad at all because I don't want an angry tense baby.  And I honestly simply don't have it in me to get upset with him like I used to with the ex.  It has to be the love.  There is no other explanation.

To say I'm analytical would be a gross understatement.  To say I'm introspective would be another.  So I have examined and analyzed this to death.  In the end, all I came up with was how much I love him.  Sometimes I worry that if he truly understood how much, it would scare him.  That much love comes with a whole lot of responsibility.  Then there was last night.  He rubbed my belly and told the baby how much he loves it.  And then he looked me in the eye.

Sam: I love the baby's vessel, too.  I really do.  And I just want to make the home of your dreams.

He worries about that, about giving me the best, making sure I know I'm loved.

me: Know what my dream home is?

Sam: What?

me: Anywhere with you.

We have issues.  We have stress.  We love each other through it.  That's the best anyone can do.

Dreamers made a daughter

It's official.  It's a girl.

She has labia and everything.  That's what the doctor said.

Doctor:  100% girl.  See those dashes?

me and Sam: Uh huh.

Doctor: Those are labia.

I didn't really need the anatomy lesson.  I am familiar with labia.  But he was nice.  And he answered all of our questions.

And we had a lot of them.  Sam was quick to point out...

Sam: I'm new at this.  I'm her second husband.  This is my first child.

Doctor: Ah, so you're unproven.

And I had to giggle because that's how we describe Bishop.  He's an unproven stud, too.

The doctor talked to us about the plan for the pregnancy, since he's the high risk doctor who has taken on a support role for the entire pregnancy.  I like him a lot.  He's not the one that did the CVS last year when we lost our son.

And while there were some uncomfortable moments, like when I realized that Sam was going to have to cope with another man literally in my business, I also had some really great moments, too.  He was really helpful when it came to me having to undress from the waist down.  He covered me with a sheet and folded my clothes.  He helped me get cleaned up after.  Yeah, I let him pass me stuff.  I can still clean all of that off by myself.

We've had some great talks the last few days.  We talked about Thanksgiving and how challenging that was.  We remembered losing our son last year.  And I realized something I've always known.  He takes really good care of me.  He isn't pushy, he's simply there, right where he needs to be, right when I need him to be there.  That is love.

Sam is about to be the father of a daughter.  With this new role comes great responsibility.  Eventually, every boy will be his mortal enemy.  Eventually, he will be the wardrobe police.  And I'm not worried.  He has mastered much of the art of being a husband already.  He will take on this role just fine.  After all, he has me to help coach him through it.

When we returned home and it was all sinking in, I looked at him.

me: Thank you.

Sam: For what?

me: Unproven or not, this is the best girl pregnancy I've ever had.

It's true.  Normally, I'm puking, bedridden, and miserably sick with girls.  This time, nothing.  No wonder I thought I was having a boy.  Ah, but it's a girl.  And I'm not seeing pink, I'm seeing purple.  Lots and lots of purple.

Dreamers dry those tears...

I have been a weeping mess for days.  Sam can set me off with a look.  The television can set me off with a commercial.  The dog can set me off by standing in my way.

Holy hormones, Batman.

Yeah.  I'm a mess.  And I hate it.  It's not me.

Sam left to go pick up a window and some job applications and I gave him a hug and burst into tears.

What am I crying about?

I swear I don't know.  I'm not afraid of being left alone for extended periods of time.  Shoot, I barely saw my ex-husband.  And I'm not afraid of Sam repeating mistakes of husbands past.

So what's up with all those tears?

The best I can come up with is that I'm uber emotional.  My hormones are completely out of whack.  And the end result is that I am a blubbering mess.

Poor, Sam.  He looked at me all helpless.

Sam: Babe, why are you crying now?

Note how he had to include the word 'now' to point out that this is not the first time this has happened this week, in the last few days, or...sadly enough...even in the last few hours.  And I couldn't come up with much of an explanation.  I think I muttered something about how I was worried about the potential amnio.

He hugged me extra long and hard.  He asked me to wish him luck.  And I know we need this.  We have big plans that simply aren't going to come to fruition without this second job.

Still...I don't think I can be faulted completely for the occasional cry.  (As long as I drop it down to occasional and not the hourly cry that it's threatening to become.)

So, I'll use my time wisely.  And I'll stock up on Kleenex.  And I'll do my best to plug along and make all of our dreams come true.

Dreamers thrive on discomfort

There are times that we are going through growth spurts.  And by we, I mean me and the baby.

I can tell.  Every few weeks, I'll just get really uncomfortable.  And Friday morning was no different.

Sometimes, I can't put my finger on it.  I can't figure out what's wrong, what needs to change, what I can do to fix it.  I mostly suffer in silence, but Sam always reaches out when I get too restless.

Friday morning, he started rubbing my knee and my thigh.  He looked at me expectantly, wondering what he could do to ease my discomfort.  And even though it didn't change anything for me physically, it did wonders for me mentally.

Sam pays attention.  That's one of the things I love most about him.  He really pays attention.  I've told him that I'm supposed to sleep on my left side, so he's altered his sleeping patterns.  He gives me space to lay as I need to, then relaxes into me.

I don't have the easiest of pregnancies.  They are filled with fear and concern.  We have to be super careful with my diet and my actions.  All I know is that I wouldn't want to go through this with anyone else.

There are so many reasons that we are together...so very many.  And I'm so looking forward to raising this baby with him, so looking forward to seeing him with our child.  I was upset the other day when I saw him staring at the belly.  I wasn't sure what he was thinking, but since my body has changed so much in the past few months, I imagined he was disturbed.

Sam: What are you getting upset about?  I look at your belly and I imagine our baby in there.  I wonder what he or she will look like.  I imagine our life, raising this baby together.  It's all good thoughts.

I love this man.  I love this baby.  I even love the discomfort.  Every day brings me closer to a healthy baby.  Every bit of the experience brings me closer to Sam.

Dreamers revel in their blessings: a post in pictures

Moments where we simply relax and enjoy...

Celebrating our love

Having a life surrounded by friends....

family...

In good times...

and bad.

A long summer of weekends in Charleston on our sailboat.

Making progress around the house with a beautiful new bathroom...

new paint and trim in the great room.

Our big baby.

And our new baby on the way...  (PS. I'm super thankful that black is so slimming...)

We have a good month left in the new year.  And I can't wait to see how it all turns out.  Tell me about your blessings...

Dreamers have a lazy backward day

Tuesday just started strange.

Let me explain...

To begin with, I slept on the couch.  Intrigued?  Well, not a very exciting story there, I'm afraid.  Here's how that all began.  I was having trouble sleeping.  Sam was snuggling me, but I was hot and then I was kicked just right from the inside and knew I had to pee.

So, I got up to pee.  And I heard the blanket rustling around.  And then when I went to return to the bed, he was in my spot and his spot and pretty much all the spots.  Yeah.  There was no room for me and my expanding middle. 

That's how I ended up on the couch around midnight. 

Oh, and I tossed and turned and couldn't get comfortable, even though I comfortably fall asleep there every night before I actually go to bed to sleep every night.  Finally, sleep found me.  It was probably looking in the wrong room.  And with the lights out, you can see how I could go unnoticed...

Well, at 4am, Sam bounded out into the living room.  He had noticed I wasn't in the bed and went looking for me.  And we were up.  He started making his phone calls.  Yes, there are people up at that time that he needed to speak to about work related issues.  And I laid in his lap while he talked.  Just when I thought we were going back to bed...because we went back to bed and he held me...he decided he couldn't go back to sleep.

I planned on staying in bed, but something in me wouldn't allow it.  And I don't mean the baby.  I got up and brushed my teeth.  I put on some comfy clothes.  And then, I made breakfast.  It was cinnamon toast and cooked Canadian bacon.  There was also a hot chocolate for me.  We sat on the couch after that...and fell asleep...

...until Keenan woke up.

 Then I was back to the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant, making eggs for all of us.  We ate and shared with Bishop.  Then Keenan was off to school.  And after a few hours, Sam fell back to sleep.  I had work to do.

I'm not sure how the rest of the week is going to play out.  I'm looking forward to it.  Mostly, I'm looking forward to surviving today...the day before Thanksgiving...without thinking too much about what we lost last year.

Dreamers embrace the possibilities

That's what life is right now.  A time of transition.  A time of change.  A plethora of possibilities.

We're not sure what is going to happen next and I'm not overly concerned about it.

Of course, that's me.  Sam is out of his mind with worry.  He worries about winter and being able to support his family.  He worries over me and the pregnancy.  He paces and grumps and can barely stand himself or the rest of us...sometimes.

And that's okay.

I knew what to expect.  After all this time together...I know how he is.  And I'm good with that.  I know that it won't take much to turn things around.  He just needs a little security, a bit of hope.  And then he'll be right once more.

Me, I see possibility.

We have all these possibilities for his company out there.  There's a great deal of potential for more work.  There's a great deal of potential for us to be just fine.  I cling to hope.  I see it everywhere.  I'm more positive.  He's more realistic.  He's faced more disappointment in his life.  He doesn't thrive on trials and tribulations like I do.

I have faith.  I believe in him.  And I believe in me.  Most of all, I believe in us, our ability to make things happen.  Our way of finding a way to survive and thrive and make things work.  We've got this.

And I'm going to help.  By the beginning of next month, I'll have a big challenge for all of you.  I want you to take it seriously.  I want you to be ready to transform your life.  Make 2012 the best year yet.  Make every year after that better, too.  Change your way of thinking.  Change the way you look at life.  And watch how amazing the changes are that take place in your life.

Embrace the possibilities.

Dreamers live for quality time

We have been so busy lately.  It seems like we are constantly heading different directions.

Every once in a while it is nice to just slow down for a minute.

That's what we did as a family on Saturday night.  We slowed down.  We spent time together. We enjoyed just being together.

We went and ate dinner at Chick-fil-A.  Now, normally this would have been great.  And I tried to make it as great as possible, but mostly...I was dreaming of Taco Bell.  Shouldn't I be able to claim cravings yet and play up the belly to get my mealtime ways?  Ah, but I was just happy to be with Sam and Keenan.  And if they wanted chicken, I was happy to get the protein.

So that's where we ate.  And I avoided the fries and ate dessert instead.  I love love love their lemon pie.  I swear I had to stop myself from ordering a whole pie.  It's on the menu.  Seriously.

Then we drove to Lonnie and Lindsay's.  We were all going to watch the UFC fight together, enjoy a bonfire, just hang out and relax.  It was mostly like that.

They invited some neighbors over.  They have...interesting neighbors.  That's a polite way of saying that these are not people we would normally hang out with.  Yet, I support their desire to be good neighbors.

In fact, I'm so supportive that I didn't do anything when the crazy lady rubbed my belly...although Sam braced for my reaction.  And I didn't do anything when she slithered over and brushed the ash from his hair and then tried to use him as a leaning post.  All the while he looked at me and waited for me to blow.  I could have blamed it on pregnancy hormones, but yelling at a drunk chick is like shooting fish in a barrel.  There's really no sport in it.  And I don't enjoy it nearly as much when they can't feel my wrath and smart from my sting.  Trust me, she was feeling nothing.

Sam watched everything.  He was on guard.

Sam: Do not let that guy touch you.  And definitely do not let him rub your belly.  I'm looking out for Keenan.

Yes, there was play fighting going on.  That always seems to happen with UFC fights and alcohol.  And his concern is always that someone will inadvertently get hurt.  And when someone was too close to Keenan, they had words.  Sam is super protective of his family.  He watches out for me, but also trusts me to take care of myself.  I like it.  It makes me feel strong and powerful.  I never have to worry because he always has my back.  It's a great feeling...all that love and support.

We left soon after the fight.  The fight was over in minutes.  Actually, the fight was over in less than a minute.  And we were tiring out.  I was tiring out.  Potato...po-tah-toe.

Then at home, we watched a bunch of our DVRed shows together.  It was so nice.  It was so relaxing.  It was no wonder I fell asleep.  I woke up to Sam snuggling me on the couch and Keenan kissing me goodnight.  And that's not such a bad way to wake up before heading off to bed.

Quality time at its finest.

Dreamers love a new routine

Life is full of change.  And of all the changes that we have endured lately, I love the ones with Keenan.

We have been having pancakes together at least once a week.  I would consider that a routine.  And the fact that I am able to function well enough that early to make them and not burn them...huge!

And while we eat our pancakes, we watch a DVRed show together.  We like to pick ones that Sam doesn't watch.  So Thursday morning it was Once Upon a Time.  We're loving this new show.  Come on.  You know it appeals to me, all fairy tales and hope.  Not everyone sees it that way.  I see the hope.

Then I send Keenan off to school, while urging him to wear a sweatshirt and reminding him that I'm not going to visit him in the hospital when he ends up with pneumonia.  He knows I'm kidding.  Any time he's been in the hospital, I have camped out there. 

Then I write.  And I write and I write and I write. 

This is the life I chose.  I like it.  Of course, at times my brain hurts.  Seriously.  My brain just hurts.

So, I get up.  I stretch.  And I don't mean like..yoga.  No, I simply move around.  That has to be good enough.  I get winded easily.  Like just cleaning around the house leave me breathless in a not so good way.  And after my walk the other day, Sam thought I was going to pass out or something, I was breathing so hard.  He's cute when he worries over me.

Then evening comes.  I've made dinner, or Sam's picked up dinner.  And I've cleaned up.  That's my almost favorite time of day.  And this is why...

We have our snuggle time on the couch.  Sam loves on the belly.  He's still struggling to feel the baby move, but I'm starting to feel her more and more.  I forgot what it was like.  I like it.  I like how he lets me get comfortable.  I like how he knows when I'm uncomfortable.  I like how he reaches out to me, rubbing my back or my thighs or whatever he imagines is currently upsetting me.

Last night, no amount of rubbing could make it better.  I was having hip joint pain.  My...everything is loosening up.  I'm already snapping, crackling, and popping all the time.  It freaks me out because I expect pain to be associated with it.  And there isn't, but there are other growing pains instead.  And some of them just can't be remedied.

With enough love, some can.

And soon enough, my favorite time of night...bedtime.  After I get comfortable, Sam wraps himself around me, settles his hand on my belly, and then sleep.  He's home to me.  Always has been.  And when we're snuggled together, the comfort translates to rest.  Best routine ever.

Dreamers let it all hang out

Sure, we may strive to be perfect for our friends and family and all those who rely on us, but deep down...we are real, we reveal our true selves.  And we are happiest when we embrace it, when we show it.

That is the best way to receive real love.

How can anyone love you who doesn't know you?  Oh, they can't.  They can love an idea of you, the very image of you that you put out there, but to truly love you...they would have to know the real you.

Being real is scary.  It feels like nekkid...to lay yourself bare before another human being.  It's a risk.  What if they turn their back on the you that is revealed?  What if they decide that you aren't who they want in their life?

See, I think that anyone who can't love you and accept you for the person you are, doesn't deserve to be a part of your life.  Perfection is too much to ask.  Living up to someone else's lofty expectations is a challenge that can put undue strain on a relationship.

Instead, be real.  Be yourself.  Be the best you that you can be.

I work on that.  A lot.

In my first marriage, I was wound tighter than a drum.  I had to be.  I had to be perfect.  I had to do everything and handle everything and be everything because I had no help.  I had no one to share the burdens with.  I was alone and lonely.  It was a horrible way to live.  I hated that my kids saw that.

At the same time, I was afraid to leave the marriage.  I knew my ex would never pay child support.  He hasn't disappointed me there.  I knew that he would be no more supportive in the divorce than he was in the marriage.  That has contributed to many of the challenges I've been facing lately.  And I was afraid of all that and more.  I could make anything work.  I could fix anything.  Only...I couldn't fix the marriage...no matter what I tried.

Then Sam came along.  He's complex.  As private as he is, he shares everything with me.  He works along side me when I need him.  He shares in my life.  He lets me share in his.  He's what I need and what I want.  And I give him the same.

Blessed.  That's what I am.  But I would have none of this if I hadn't taken a huge risk.  Huge risks come with their own rewards.  I was real.  I still am.  And he is, too.