Counting

These past six weeks of recovery have been a difficult blessing.

For weeks I was in pain. And it seemed it would be forever until I could bend to tie my shoes or pick up my son.

The grandparents have supported Me and my Blueberry everyday on the road to recovery.

And even though I make a stubborn patient and have suffered from cabin fever....I was given time with my boy, my son. A true blessing.

The memories I have of this recovery are filled with my boy...and not the physical recuperation of a major surgery.

During this time I watched him advance from a few staggered steps to walking around the house carrying his big blue ball...he had his first serious cold...gave up his pacifier...started big people foods...and began to be weened away from his beloved bottle.  We had a crazy day at Chuck E Cheese and he had his first adventure at an art museum. So much in just a short time....and I was with him every step...every day.

We have become close.

I feel like a mama.

I go back to work in a few days....and my heart is already beginning to break.

I have always been stubborn, strong willed, independent, and worked hard at all my schooling and at every job position I have  held.  I like to work. I am dedicated. I am thankful for my job and what it provides.

But...

If there was a way to have more time with my son, my sweet boy, my little family...and still financially survive...I would take it.

I love my blueberry boy.

First Cut

Before

After

My precious boy had his first hair cut.

I have been very reluctant to have his locks chopped....his hair was just beginning to curl in the back.

Alas I had to concede his bangs were out of control and that it was time.

His hair was cut by a very nice lady that saves me every six months from the mop that grows on my head.
She was so gentle and spoke so kind to him during the entire hair cut.

He sat on my lap, a blue comb to entertain him in each little fist, and never squirmed or fussed...not once.

Now my baby looks like my little man.

Beep Beep

My little Blueberry has been a busy guy.

This past weekend we attended his cousin's 2nd birthday party at Chuckie Cheese.

What a crazy place.

Our E loved every minute of the kid induced magical mayhem that accompanies pizza, soda pop, arcade games, and a large rodent  in purple cruising around the joint high-fiving the kids.

Growing up my siblings and I had pretty basic birthday parties.  I ruled at the clothes pin drop game.  Mom used to keep the big Mason jar under the sink.  I used to practice in the kitchen preparing for birthday parties.  A place like Chuckie Cheese was myth and legend to us as children.

Note: I am the only one in my family that had the opportunity to go to Chuckie Cheese when I was in fifth grade.  My best friend's parents took us for receiving a perfect "A" report card---we presented our cards and received a free pizza.  It was the first time I played ski ball and loved it. Now, at the age of 36, I was a little disappointed because I could not locate the ski ball in the arcade.

E used all his tokens.  He rode all the cars, an electric horse, the carousel, and slid down his first slide.  He clapped and smiled the entire time.

And he only swiped a little bit of the icing on his cousin's birthday cake with his curious one year old hands...