Warning: Small pity party to follow...

So, I've been feeling a little lost lately. It's amazing how much things change when you don't have a "real job." Before I got married, I thought staying home with children was a no-brainer, but when it was time to tell my principal that I wouldn't be returning to Madison Central, I got really choked up. I know I made the right decision--I don't even want to think about my sanity if I were trying to teach Honors English (a state-tested subject,) grade essays and term papers, and be a mother and wife. I know lots of people manage the juggling act and do it well, but I don't think that I would've been one of those super-moms. I'm pretty sure I would have been really scary. This year has been fabulous, and I am beyond lucky to have the opportunity to stay home with Sam while he's young, but sometimes it's hard.

I don't get to hang out with adults all that much, so when I do, I feel like that dog on the Beggin' Strips commercial. You know--this one:





Except I'm like that around people (adults.) It's true. "People!...People! People! People!" I told Anthony that last night, and he laughed at me. I don't think he knows how serious I am.


I'm glad the weather is finally warming up though. With summer just around the corner, Sam and I can get outdoors and actually be around other living human beings. I won't know what to do with myself.

So, if I see you out and about, and my eyes dilate or I get a little too close to you, take it as a compliment...I'm really glad to see you. *Sigh.*

Obligatory Sam shot. He'll always love me even if I become socially incompetent.

Erin Go Bragh!

First of all, Anthony and I want to formally thank the city of Jackson for throwing Sam a fabulous 10-month birthday party.

In all seriousness, we did spend a beautiful day in downtown Jackson celebrating St. Patrick's Day with Sam. Nothing says "I'm Irish" like a kid who's a quarter Lebanese, right? Considering that the parade starts at noon, prime naptime for Sam, he did really well. He took an early nap Saturday morning, but it was only 45 minutes. He usually sleeps 2 hours, so it was a gamble to take him to the parade, but we decided to go for it. You can tell in a lot of the pictures that he's sleepy, but he only cried once towards the end of the afternoon, and that's when we called it a day. Next year we'll hit up the children's and pet parades. If you've never been to the St. Paddy's Day Parade, you should go--it's a lot of fun. And it's great people-watching, too. As a friend of mine said, you'll see "all kinds." She was right.

For the first time ever, I walked away from the afternoon without a single bead or a sunburn. Guess that's what happens when you have a child and have to stay under the building awnings to get some shade.

And yes, I decorated his stroller. I'm a dork.

Sunday we spent another day at the park. It was beautiful, and there were kids everywhere. I'm hoping this weather continues, but it looks like we're in for some rain later this week.

The last day of winter...

Today is officially the last day of winter. (Hooray!) March 20th kicks off the season of all things wonderful: flowers, pretty weather, and Easter. And with Easter comes the yummy deliciousness we all know and love--Easter candy. As far as I'm concerned, Easter owns the market on fabulous candy. Valentine's Day may be known for chocolate, but there's only one time a year you can get these:

And these:

And these:

I'll admit, I certainly didn't wait for the formality of March 2oth. I bought some Cadbury eggs the other day, and it was painful trying not to eat all three luscious pieces of chocolate at once. I used to think that it was bogus for Cadbury to withhold their treats from me except during the spring. (And, no--spring isn't capitalized--none of the seasons are. You were wondering about me, weren't you?) Anyhoo, now I think Mr. (or Mrs.) Cadbury is onto something. If I had access to their sweets year round, not only would I weigh 400 lbs., but I wouldn't appreciate them. So here's to you, Cadbury Company--you make spring even better than it already is.

I am LOVING this weather. Sam and I actually got to go to the park the other day, and he ate it up. The kid loves being outside, so the park was a perfect destination for us. We rocked it out on the swing for a little while. He then picked up a few phone numbers, and we called it a day.

I'm now about to spend the rest of my day installing cabinet latches. Chunkybutt has figured out how to open the cabinets and sweep everything out on the floor. He's not walking yet, but he's cruising everywhere and is tentatively letting go to stand on his own for brief periods of time. As much as I'm chasing him now, I think I can afford a few Cadbury Eggs.

I think I'll go buy some more, now.

My husband, Dickie V.

So, most people know that Anthony is a rabid MSU fan. And I don't mean like, "Oh, yeah, we cheer for the Bulldogs." More like a "I might consider selling my first-born child in order to procure a national championship in either baseball, football, or basketball before I meet my maker," kind of way. Well, he wouldn't sell Sam, but short of that--anything goes. It's quite disgusting/charming in its own way. There were many jokes when I was pregnant that we timed Sam's arrival for mid-May because there were few big sporting events that he would have to miss, but I digress.

We got a phone call from our neighbor tonight. This is what I heard:

Anthony: "Hey, Mr. ______."

"Tomorrow night? Sure."

"8:00 would be great. See you then."

I'm getting ready to jump down his throat for accepting a super-late dinner invitation, when he stops me.

Anthony: "You won't believe what Mr. ________ wants."

Me: "It better not be an 8:00 dinner date."

Anthony: "Better--he wants me to come over to discuss the MSU/TN SEC Championship game."

I mean, really? What are they going to do? Break down X's and O's? If anyone else wants Anthony's expertise on a game that has already been played and won, give me a comment. I'll see if he can pencil you in. He might even help you fill out your bracket.

Seriously?

What I learned this weekend...

1. I can't stay out as late as I used to without serious consequences.

2. One day and night is more than enough to be away from Sam.

So, this Saturday I headed to New Orleans with some friends to have some good food and good fun. We left early Saturday morning, and we spent a gorgeous spring day on Magazine St. shopping. I cannot explain how gorgeous it was--80 degrees, azaleas in bloom everywhere--picture perfect. I will not explain my calorie intake for the entire weekend. It started with a mimosa and Chik-Fil-A Saturday morning and ended with Wendy's topped off by some Hot Cheetos. Yep, Hot Cheetos. Anyway, we shopped, ate, and generally made gluttons of ourselves.

After shopping, we changed and headed out to dinner. Our dinner experience wasn't the best--mainly because of poor service--but we rallied through and headed to Bourbon Street. We spent the remainder of the night dancing until our feet hurt, but by around 2:00, I was ready to call it quits.

Boy, am I glad we went in when we did. I felt like death warmed over the next morning. Remember, this was also daylight savings time, so it probably wasn't the best night to stay out later than my body is used to, that's for sure. Lesson learned--I am no longer 18.

As far as the Samster goes, I missed him terribly. I swear, I saw 9 billion people who had babies his age on Saturday, and it made me a little sad. Anthony took Sam to see his great-grandmother and some other relatives, so I know that he had more than enough attention. It was just harder than I thought to be away from him. Also, none of my fellow travelers have children, so I had to make sure I wasn't being completely obnoxious by talking about him all the time. I may have failed miserably on that front.

And because the "belly laugh" video was such a huge hit among our family, I present: The Belly Laugh 2. (Excuse the giggling and possible snorting you hear in the background--that's my oh-so-charming laugh.)

I may or may not...

have eaten almost a whole bag of these:

Don't judge.

Buzzed, among other things...

We slept in this morning. We have been going to the 8:40 service in order to accommodate Sam's naps a little better, but since he graciously let us sleep until 8:00 a.m., early church was out of the question. No problem--we'll go to Sunday School then the regular service. Should be a breeze, right? However, Sam is having some serious attachment issues right now. He absolutely loses his mind and throws a humongous fit if we try to leave him with people he doesn't know--like the nursery ladies.

I took him into the nursery, and he immediately started clinging to me. I hate to leave him, but it's no longer easy to have him with us in the sanctuary. He makes it difficult for anyone to pay attention to the service. Anyway, I signed him in, took a beeper, and left. He started wailing. Soooo sad. I took a deep breath and went on down the hall to Sunday School. Just when I thought all was going well, the beeper begins to vibrate. I got within 15 ft. of the nursery, and I knew why I had been buzzed. The kid was throwing the mother of all tantrums. Red faced, snotty nose, tears streaming down his eyes, the works. His antics were making the other babies cry. It was chaos. I know those ladies hate to see us come in the door. I imagine that they use paper-rock-scissors to decide who has to deal with Sam.

Anthony came in a few minutes later, and we decided to keep Sam with us during church. I should have known that things weren't going to go well when we walked into the sanctuary and Sam started going, "oooma, oooma," over and over again. He loved the echo--just as pleased as punch with himself. Of course, it was super crowded today because it's the first Sunday of Lent. I would like to think most people are understanding about a baby being loud in church, but I also know there are people who get really irritated. Sam forced us to make an early exit. Oh, well.

I know that lots of children do this, but if anyone out there has advice about separation anxiety, I'd appreciate it. It's making my life slightly difficult.

On another note, what is with this stupid weather? On Wednesday, my child wore shorts and knee socks; (see pictures) today he was bundled up like an Eskimo. March=baseball=baseball weather=sunshine and fresh cut grass=BBQ. That is the natural order of things. Anything else is

just wrong.

Told you he wore shorts.

Before Ash Wednesday services

His legs are so chunky the socks almost cut off circulation. He needs a bigger size.