When we, as a family, have the kind of good day that we did in fact have today, I feel the need to write about it. Life rarely feels effortless. Somehow though, today did.
Like most kids, Jude loves dirt. And bugs. Since the beginning of Spring, he has been asking to plant seeds, to water plants, to pick flowers. The best I could do for him here at home was to help him transfer some basil plants from their little starter boxes to our window boxes. I’ve got a brown, brown thumb. They were dead within days.
At 12:08am on July 19th (2012), you turned 1 year old. I remember your birth vividly. In the moment, I could not recognize your birth for what it was–a healing experience. Today… well, today I am grateful for you.
The day you turned 9 months old you took your first steps. Almost exactly a month later (on Jude’s 5th birthday), you decided to make walking your primary mode of transportation. Between then and now you’ve learned to step over things and climb up onto things you shouldn’t; you’ve also started (kind of) running away from me when I try to stop you from getting into whatever you shouldn’t be getting into.
We’re having a hot, hot summer here in Chicago. I think it’s the hottest one I’ve experienced since we moved here in ’08. I’ve never really had the experience of needing to stay indoors (hugging the air conditioner) to beat the heat, but for most of last week, the kids and I did just that.
And just like that, another Mother’s Day comes to a close.
Last year at this time, I was very pregnant and very miserable. Josh and Jude took me to brunch, and during the week following the holiday, I was treated to a massage, manicure/pedicure, and a hair cut. It was wonderful and just what I needed. This year was different.
Originally, while mentally drafting this post in my mind, I called it “A String of Profanity.” At the time, I could not compose a sentence that didn’t have “fuck,” “shit,” or “mother fucking” in it. I’ve moved past the foul language, though I still want to run outside and scream nonsense into the Chicago sky.
I have a lovely post written about Ramona’s Fairy Godmother Blessing. Sadly, I can’t find the cord to upload pictures to my laptop from my camera, so that post is in limbo, just waiting to be published.
Welcome to your ninth month of life and your first “Dear Ramona” post on this blog. I started writing letters to your brother when he was about eight months old, so I guess it’s fitting that I’m getting a late start with you, as well.
The thing about being bed-ridden is that it doesn’t make for good blog-writing fodder. So here we are.
Good news! Today I was able to assemble and cook a quesadilla for Jude. That means I was on my feet for a solid… 7-10 minute. Progress, people. Progress.
Bad news! I had gotten word about a PT clinic that operates on a sliding scale for payment. Unfortunately, I live outside the area the clinic makes that option available to.
Good news! The chiropractic adjustment that I got yesterday seems to have done something good. Bonus good news! I have another appointment in the morning.
I was going to update this week’s menu now that I know what the rest of our week looks like food-wise, but then I decided that this week’s meal additions deserved their own post, so here goes.