My little boy is to die for. We went to the Bishop Lynch football game tonight, aside from him loving football, he loves his JuJu...that is his older cousin, and he might as well hang the moon too. Here is a tiny video of this precious Friar fan in the stands.
I have been way past due for a blog update, and have so much to talk about. I may not cover everything now, however it will come out sooner than later.
I talked to God today, and this is what I told him, "God, thank You for always fulfilling Your promises, shame on us for expecting more, Your love is immeasurable. We are only human and stealthy in faults, thank you now, for revealing to us Your plan. Your patience and will, although ever consistent, always seems to be a variable for us. And knowing that, in spite of that, You continue to always provide. We thank you for giving a new life." All prayer is, is a conversation with God, and eventhough I do it often throughout the day, I still fall short of His unceasing desire. What I can say for certainty is, God is good all the time, all the time God is good.
Had a great dinner yesterday evening with three great friends. One of which is my bestie, Cindy. My other dear friend Jenni, who also happens to be Cindy's sister, and then there is little Debi. Deborah is a true gem, she got engaged and we are all so excited for them both. Jenni and I arrived at Victor Tangos for drinks and some appetizers, which by the way, if you haven't eaten there before, the ahi tuna nachos = amazing, anyways, we get there first and just get right into it. One topic in particular that we both tended to pay much attention to was motherhood. Basically, for about 2 and a half years now, um, I don't know, only since Adan was born or so, I have felt like a terrible mother. I mean, the type of mother that is again, just glazing. I reference SATC 2 here because I not only think it's fitting but almost perfectly aligned with what I have carried with me since my bugga boo was cut from my tummy. The scene where Miranda and Charlotte heart to heart it out regarding the difficulties of mothering struck such an emotional cord with me it burns. It is so heavy. I am a nurse, in case you don't know, I work nights, and yes, as amazing as this profession afforded me my child face to face time with his mommy all day everyday, it also afforded me fatigue and exhaustion. I am tired about 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. It's pretty safe to say, that I'm only about 40% available to my kid. That really sucks. Why is it so hard for me, and so easy for Marcus? In the same place where this feeling of inadequacy lives, also resides jealousy and envy. Let me elaborate. My husband, as I've mentioned before always saves the day. Adan only wants Marcus now, and it is the biggest upset since Tony Romo's last game...no wait...the one before that...no wait, um, it's only as big an upset as his career, yea, that's more like it. Adan has officially grasped the difference between quality versus quantity. Many a day before, since he was born really, all he saw was me. When he was hungry, bam, it was my boob, thus my face he saw...when he was dirty, bam, it was me that changed it because I was there in the day, and it was my face that he saw, etc...So when he was upset, or desired a parent, I was the one winning. Made me so happy, not even thinking of how it might have made my mate feel. My, have those tables turned. Now that he is older he could care less that I am around more, what he cares about is the quality of time we spend together and I'm not gonna lie, I pretty much suck at it. Marcus on the other hand is my saviour and pretty much my son's shiny star. He gets home from work, can manage to put a load of laundry in, start dinner, play with Adan, love me and not even break a sweat. I on the other hand, can't even sweep the floor if Adan is around, much less surface enough energy to drive him to the park, especially if I worked the night before. He has learned who loves him best, and right now it's Daddy. Pretty depressed about it, and that of course just accumulates onto the already existing guilt. I am not the mother I thought I would be, and it is ripping me apart.
I am pissed right now, fortunately for me, I have other issues too, lucky me. I have let my ass get hella large, literally. The kinda ass that warrants a "damn!" The kind of damn that precedes an "oh my God", with an accompanying shake of the head. I however, have started in the path to warrant a "damn!" The kind of damn that precedes an "oh my God", and a half bite of the lower lip with a lil eye squinting. In case you are wondering, that's the good kind. 14.5lbs and counting baby.
I have so much more to say and my fingers hurt, but Marcus is all "damn!" The kind of damn that precedes an "oh my God", with the "are you blogging look?" In case you are wondering, that's the bad kind. As in, "get off the phone, it is time to spoon." And since I am a lover of all things food related. I'm out.
Until next time.
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