Feet

It began with just one...
...but quickly turned to two.

And then they went in the mouth, which is currently where he prefers them to be.

Does someone want to tell me why we even bother with rattles?

Firsts...

October marked the first of many firsts...

There was the eating of cereal and peas. The peas won out by a land slide.

There was the sitting up in his little rubber seat (I forget what it's called), which made him look like a man. We are still waiting for the rolling over but the boy loves to stand and loves to sit in his seat.

And then there was the first Halloween. While he felt awful and struggled with a fever and the vomiting of phlegm, he and his cousin still made the best Thing 1 and Thing 2 I have ever seen.

And for the record, we are still patiently waiting for the first sleeping through the night.

4-months-old

This is what 4-months-old looks like...

I really do wish I could take credit for his gorgeousness. I know every mom has spent hours and hours staring at their babies, yet there are moments I feel like there must be something wrong with me because I can't take my eyes off this boy. My sister forecasts many a phone call from teenage girls in the future. Let me make this clear...NO. Enough said.

At four months Mr. Nico continues to be fascinated with his hands and has finally figured out that instead of trying to shove his whole fist in his mouth, a couple of fingers will suffice. Plus, he loves to hold your hand, especially when eating and falling asleep. I want him to do that forever. He has also discovered his feet and grabs for them as much as possible. Rolling over is just around the corner and while he has been scarce with his laughter, when he lets it roll, it definitely rolls. Smiles and sounds, however, are never scarce, and he loves, loves, loves singing. He almost loves it as much as the moment his papa walks through the front door from work...that is the highlight of his day for sure. I need to get that stuff on video. The thing is, plain and simple, the boy is a complete and total joy. I wish I could take credit for that too, but I really believe it's just how he is wired. I find myself picturing him in the future and then I have to remind myself to enjoy the now because it has already gone so fast.

The sleep thing could be better, though. While in the last week he has made great strides and is only waking up once a night, I don't think I have ever felt this tired, well, ever. I have been told the sleeping-through-the-night thing will happen soon. I am just afraid that when it does, I won't actually be able to wake up. It is amazing, though, how functional you can still be when sleep deprived. Granted, every once in a while the sleep deprivation shines through...like when your husband puts the ice cream back in the fridge instead of the freezer, and when you catch at the very last minute a typo you were going to give to students that would have been very, very bad ("cummer" is NOT a good replacement for "summer"). And I must say that I hate acid reflux. I despise it. I loathe it. I want it to go far, far away from here, especially the gagging cough that sounds like he is about to give birth to his insides. Acid reflux can kiss my butt.

In short, our boy is growing like a weed and continues to make our world go round. May the teenage years stay very far away and may he want to hold my hand for a very long time.

8

Today my Ana turns 8.

And this was our phone conversation this morning:

Me: Happy Birthday Ana! Can you believe you're 8?

Ana: No, I can't.

Me: I know, me neither.

Ana: Yeah, when I started 2nd grade I felt decrepit and today I feel even more decrepit.

Me: (Silence, thinking to myself, "Is this what the new 8 sounds like?")

So today Miss Smarty Pants turns another year older, another year smarter, and another year funnier. I love this kid with all that I am.

Happy Birthday, Ana Banana!

Firsts

Apparently "The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round" is HYSTERICAL.

Just ask Nico.

While singing and shaking his little legs, he laughed for the first time today.

And it wasn't a pansy laugh either. It was a laugh straight from his belly and it MADE MY DAY.

Actually, it MADE MY WEEK.

The thing is, this week has been hard.

First, he bloodied his own head by going after his itchy cradle cap in the middle of the night. I must say that finding your baby with bloody scratches all over his scalp at 3 in the morning is not my idea of a good time. Thanks to a quick trip to the doctor and some steroid cream, his scalp is looking pretty darn good right now. It's hairless, but it's bloodless. I'll take than any day of the week.

Then, starting on Tuesday night, his acid reflux took a turn for the worst. The coughs and gags that came out of his 3-month-old body were deafening, and I'm not exaggerating. I wish I was. None of us got more than 20 minutes of sleep at a time for two nights in a row. NOT. GOOD. NEWS. Thankfully this time I just had to call the doctor and as of last night, our little one is on acid reflux medicine. While last night wasn't perfect, it was so much better!

So much better, in fact, that today he LAUGHED and my heart sang! This mom stuff rocks.

For the record...

...this is what happens when a 34-year-old software developer and father of one goes up for a header during a recreation league soccer game:

After three hours in the emergency room, five stitches, and dry heaving (me, not him), this is the end result:

Awesome, baby. Freakin' awesome.

This is how rumors get started...

It all begins with a "discovery." Leave it to my high school students to plot this out.

Today my yearbook students attended a yearbook workshop. While they hated every second of the presenter, they LOVED looking at yearbooks from other high schools all over the country. They looked and looked and looked, and here is what they found:

They are convinced this is my long, lost daughter. This is her senior picture. She attended some high school in Bothell and graduated last year. For the record, that means I would have been 14 when I had her. Those who knew me in high school would tell you this - NOT POSSIBLE.

But so convinced are my students that they have begun Facebook-stalking whoever this poor girl is. They are scaring me, and yet, I must admit, there is a bit of an uncanny resemblance.

You know how they say everyone has a twin in this world? Perhaps she is it. But daughter she is not, dear students. I don't even have one of those.

But I do have one of the other kind...

...isn't our resemblance uncanny too?

10 Weeks

It has been two months since I have blogged. Blame it on him:

And now my darling boy is already 10 weeks old. 10 weeks means cooing and singing and smiling galore. It means the shaking and rattling of hands and feet, and the ever-so-close discovery of sucking a thumb. It means the following of voices and sounds and the throwing a bloody fit when having to sit all by himself in the back of the car. It means growing and growing and growing, so much so I wish it would just stop. It means the almost sleeping through the night and morning cuddles with mama in bed. God he smells good.

But perhaps most importantly it means complete and utter infatuation. I get absolutely nothing done during the day - which until he came I never understood - and I just stare and stare and kiss and kiss. He is the other love of my life and Trevor feels exactly the same way. This is love in its most purest of forms. I can honestly say that with him, I have never felt more unselfish in my whole life. That feels pretty damn good.

Tomorrow I go back to work, which means somebody else gets to do the staring and the kissing and the cuddling for a while, and I am not quite sure how I feel about that. I know I will be counting down the hours until I am with him again. I just hope he doesn't forget me. That freaks me out because, well, I am a freak of nature. He has brought that out in me.

I wish I could slow it all down and yet I cannot wait for all that is to come. To all those who told me it would come (especially YOU Melanikis), you were right. It was so worth the wait.

Cousins, Part II

The whole familia rolled into town this weekend and for the first time, the three cousins were together. At only three weeks older, Alex clearly could eat Nico for lunch. Luckily, he restrained himself and baby Nico still lives. They shared floor time together and even held hands. My brother predicts these two may raise some hell in the future. I prefer to think they will be each other's numero uno amigo and keep each other out of trouble, but that job may be relegated to Ana. She has slid into the role of older cousin flawlessly and I have no doubt these two boys will want to follow in her ever footstep. And can I just say for the record that the Gonzalez's have yet to make an unatttractive baby? I know, I know, I can't take a lot of credit for mine but damn he is beautiful. Watch out world, here they come!

To my son...

My dearest Nico...

Twelve days ago your papa and I recieved the phone call that forever altered our lives. It was a phone call we had expected to wait a year or two for and instead we waited only about two and a half weeks. That phone call let us know you were waiting for us and so we boarded a plane to Vegas to see for ourselves that indeed our dream had come true. There you were, snuggled in your birth mama's arms, waiting for your papa and mama to take you home. Since the moment you were placed in my arms, I have loved you fiercely. You are exactly what I have been waiting for and now this entire journey makes sense.

I want you to always know the unwavering love of your birth mama and I will forever be grateful for the time we were allowed to spend with her. You come from strength, commitment, passion, and love, and your papa and I will do all that we can to honor that everyday. You are the most amazing gift we have ever been given and so we will honor you everyday as well.

I hope we are always able to celebrate our similarities and remember that family has never been, nor ever will be, determined by color or blood, but rather by shared joys and an unwavering commitment to love each other every single day. I want the world for you - you should never be afraid to be exactly who you were meant to be. You are our dream come true, and even though you make funny faces when I kiss your cheeks and your lips repeatedley, I will do everything in my power to make all of your dreams come true.

Nicholas Brian Smith, I love you more than words can express. You have a circle of family and friends who have been waiting for you and who love you deeply and selflessly. I cannot wait to witness all that you become and I will always be your number one fan. You are our son through and through, and have been since before we even met you. We are so glad you are finally home.

Love,

Your Mama

Cousins

This picture of my niece Ana with her cousin - and my nephew - Alex brings me an unexplainable amount of joy. I didn't grow up with cousins of any degree. I suppose this is what happens when you live in Washington and everybody else lives in Florida and Puerto Rico. Yes, my parents were Cubans who broke the mold. In short, cousins have always been a fantasy of mine and to see this fantasy lived through these two makes my heart sing.

Meet Baby Gonz...

Our family grew by one yesterday.

Meet Alejandro (aka Alex) James Gonzalez. He had a bit of a rough journey into this world after getting a bit stuck. I guess 8 lbs., 11 oz., and 23 1/2 inches might do that to you, especially when your mom is tiny.

After spending several hours in ICU, he was finally reunited with mom and dad.

I love this little man so deeply already. Welcome, baby Alex. The world is your canvas...

Lessons Learned

In January, Trevor and I made the decision to become foster parents. After two miscarriages and months of unsuccessful trying, it was time for some forward momentum. Thus began the tedious process of classes, paperwork, background checks, fingerprints, TB tests, First Aid/CPR/HIV training, and a home study. After countless hours of work and way too many hoops to jump through to count, by the end of April we had recieved our foster care license in the mail. We now reached the "waiting stage" of the process and surprisingly, we didn't have to wait long.

Last Monday we recieved a phone call from a social worker informing us that there were three kids who needed a place to stay - a 9-year-old girl, a 6-year-old girl, and a 3-year-old boy. We didn't hesitate for one second and said our home was more than open. As quickly as they came, they just as quickly went away, leaving behind a quiet that we no longer want. Yesterday they left us to live with their aunt and in turn have left us very contemplative, very sad, and yet nonetheless, very appreciative of the time we had with them.

The lessons we learned by having these children in our home for just 10 short days will remain with us for a lifetime. Here are just a few...

• Hide the licorice and the pop.
• Bath time requires rubber duckies and tupperware.
• You don't need lots of toys or other things to keep kids entertained - a big back yard with dirt to dig in and a ball to kick around can be enough.
• Teaching a 3-year-old how to use "please" and "thank you" can be the most intellectually challenging task you may ever face.
• Hearing a 3-year-old say "please" or "thank you" unprompted can be the most rewarding part of your entire day.
• Sparkly headbands and hot pink sandals can make any 6- and 9-year-old girls' dreams come true.
• Strep throat sucks and strep throat times three sucks even more.
• Taking three kids to a movie means you won't get to watch it. Period.
• Sometimes cereal is good for dinner...and never, ever, ever put garlic in scrambled eggs.
• Drawing and coloring and play dough are fun for everybody.
• Hearing "I love you" and "I will miss you" from the mouths of babes can bring you to your knees.
• Peace, quiet, and clean are completely and totally over rated.
• Ten days is not too short of a period to fall in love with someone, and in our case, with three someones.

To L and A and E...thank you for being you.

The baby is 30...

That's my little brother on the far left. I realize he's not so little anymore, and hasn't been for quite some time. In fact, he turned 30 this weekend, and in true form, he celebrated in style.

Of course this involved a little bit of beveraging, a little bit of dancing, and a little bit of gambling, all at the same time. As a witness of this foray, let me just note that my little brother can party with the best of them. I, on the other hand, was dead asleep by 11 p.m.

So, while he is able to do all of these things legally, and while in a matter of five or six weeks he is going to be a proud papa to an already-loved baby boy, he's still my little brother, and I'm stickin' to it. He's the one I used to stick in a stroller and push around while I played house, the one who I made play Barbies with me for countless hours, the one who I gave homework to so I could play teacher, the one who I created ice skating routines with in our very small living room, the one who I co-wrote and co-sang the song "Cute Little Lovers" (don't ask) with, the one who helped me secretly glue back together the broken pictures frames after our rousing games of knee-soccer, and the one who gracefully allowed me to carry him into my bed for literally years, just so I could get a good night's sleep.

In fact, while he is technically my little brother, he has often been the one to take care of me and he always had my back. When it comes to little brothers, I really did get the best of the best.

I love you, Gonzi!!!! Hopefully in your next 30 years you will eat a few more salads and not stay out so late. Happy Birthday!

Deep Thoughts Form Students, Entry 4:

I cannot stop laughing. I am sitting back at my computer with the giggles and I can't stop.

Let me set the scene...

In my Freshman English class, we are getting ready to begin our final unit of the year, which revolves around the novel "To Kill a Mockingbird." As students are finishing up their essays on poetry, I thought it would be good to show a movie called "Pride" - which deals with issues of racism and perseverance - as a sort of pre-reading activity.

As we were reviewing the part of the film we watched yesterday, my student Joyce noticed the picture of Trevor and I on my computer desktop, which was being projected onto our big screen before I started the movie. The picture was taken when we were on our trip to St. John, and the background shows the turquoise waters of the Carribbean.

Joyce says: Hey, I like that picture.

I say: Thank you!

Maria says: Look at that beach! Where was that taken?

I say: On a little island called St. John. It's in the Virgin Islands.

Joyce says (very seriously): The Virgin Islands? Maria, you can't ever go there.

The entire class - including me - bursts into laughter.

The thing is, the kids have let it go, and here I am - still giggling.

I love my job. I really, really love my job.

Good Ole Tennessee

I am just going to get straight to the point. When one of the first things you see while driving around Nashville is the sign below, you know you are in for a good time.


In short, this is what we did...

1) While Trevor filled his belly with whiskey, I filled mine with glasses and glasses of sweet tea. I love sweet tea. I want to fill up a baby pool with sweet tea and swim in it...let's just pretend that visual never happened.

2) We posed with every Elvis we could find. Enough said.
3) Candace hooked us up with NHL tickets, so we watched the Nashville Predators beat the St. Louis Blues. To make it even better, in between the first and second periods, Winona Judd appeared out of nowhere to sing a fews songs. I pretty much lived the childhood dream of Alissa all in the matter of a couple hours. It rocked. I loved it.
4) We visited the Jack Daniel's Distillery, which happens to be in a dry county. Nonetheless, we rocked in some rocking chairs, we posed with Jack's statue, and we smelled whiskey being made at every stage, which brought some of us back to our college days.

5) We met our friend Beverly for lunch. Beverly was with the Tennessee group on our honeymoon and spent most of the trip making us laugh and laugh and laugh. We loved meeting her husband and catching up over some pretty impressive Mexican food. Let me just say that in Tennesee, no matter what restaurant you go to, they feature "Cheese Dip" on their appetizer menus. Cheese Dip is delicious, and I have evry intention of bringing this trend to Washington.
6) And, of course, we went to the Grand Ole Opry. Trevor wore his new hat, I wore my new boots, and we all got the giggles after every single "Used-to-be a Country Music Singer 50 years Ago" graced the stage. Nonetheless, it was absolutely worth the experience.
In conclusion, I just have to say that I am not quite sure how our friendship with Candace and Kelly has become what it is, but when the four of us are together, it is like we have known each other for years. I love that, and cannot wait until next time.

Conversations with Teens

I am sure it goes without saying that I like teenagers. I do, I really do. As a matter of fact, I have always found it interesting that when I meet people for the first time and they ask me what I do, often times these people react with dismay.

Not me. I like 'em. I really do.

And last night only proved to me that teenagers are very, very funny.

Case in point:

Conversation #1:
Ariel: Mrs. Smith, does your flower need to be watered?
Mrs. Smith: Actually, it does.
Ariel: Can I water your flower?
Karla: That's dirty, Ariel.
Ariel: I mean, can I water that flower? (points at the flower)
Mrs. Smith: I think I am going to throw up.

Conversation #2:
Shelley: I really want to take a picture of my golf clubs.
Karla: Huh? Why?
Shelley: I think it would make a cool picture. One of my clubs has a big head on it.
Karla: (giggles)
Shelley: It's a big head that's black and you can see your reflection in it.
Karla and Mrs. Smith make eye contact...conversation ends in an uproar of laughter.

Yes, I know. Teenagers have dirty minds. This is exactly why I think they are so funny.

And then this happened:

http:www.youtube.com/user/traintrakka

They scared the living daylights out of me. And, of course, they made me laugh my butt off.

Funny, indeed.

Random Thoughts on Finals Day 1...

• Peanuts covered in maple glaze sometimes just hit the spot
• Telling 14-year-olds they can't talk until all the tests are turned in NEVER works...even if donuts are involved
• Politicians suck
• Politicians who preach about charter schools and merit-based pay for teachers suck the most
• Sears sucks sometimes, like when they send you a broken treadmill that you paid a big chunk of money for and then won't return your emails or your phone calls
• I really, really, really don't like pork chops
• Sending money to Haiti just doesn't seem like enough
• Suffering sucks
• Brand new, sharpened pencils bring me joy
• Tomorrow Melanikis turns the same age Jesus was when he was crucified...my mom likes to point this out anytime someone turns 33
• My mom is random, but she cooks a mean arroz con pollo
• Speaking of random, I must remind myself to explain to my SET students certain American colloquialisms because ever since I told them they were "driving me nuts," they have been telling each other "Stop driving MY nuts"...not good
• One final done today, two more to go

A Weekend in Winthrop

Let me begin by saying that I am embarassed at how our weekend away started. I just have to get it off my chest because I feel like a total ass...when we walked into our cabin in Winthrop and there clearly was not a DVD player like the ad had stated, I started to cry.

I know.

I'm pathetic.

And irrational.

And over-emotional.

What else is new, right?

But this is exactly why I'm putting it out there because I want the world to know that I KNOW that I am pathetic. With that said, I have to tell you, the missing in action DVD player turned out to be a blessing in disguise, and here is why...

For our 3-year dating anniversary, Trevor and I rented a cabin to get away and enjoy some quality time together. It truly is amazing how much more quality your time becomes when television is not involved, and I'm not blowing smoke up your wazoos here. I really, really mean it. We strolled through the cowboy town of Winthrop, sipping on coffee and caramel apple cider, and browsing through the many shops. In one of those shops, Trevor picked out a book (which he never does) and in another one we bought a deck of cards and a cribbage board. So at night, instead of zoning out to movies, we snuggled up on the couch and read together (ummm, can you say best foreplay EVER?) and over the course of the weekend played 10 rounds of cribbage. I'm not competitive or anything, but for the record, I won eight times. You do the math.

We also enjoyed one day of intense snowshoeing. By "enjoyed" what I really mean is that in the span of 4 miles and 3 hours, I laughed, I cried, and I puked. Yes, I puked. I don't want to talk about it. I also yelled at my husband and told him I was never going to snowshoe with him again, but that was a lie. The truth is, it was amazingly beautiful out there and as much as it hurt to climb up very, very steep hills, spending that time with Trevor who never, ever gives up on me only reiterated that I will indeed snowshoe again and again and again.

You may ask yourself, what is Sara doing in that picture below? The answer is, Sara is laughing her ass off after falling down AGAIN. Who falls snowshoeing, which really is a glorified way of saying WALKING IN THE SNOW? Ummmm, me, that's who.

We also enjoyed a horse sleigh ride that ended with a cowboy dinner in a tent (thankfully it was warm) in the middle of the mountains. The ride was so much fun, the food was amazing, and the company was hysterical. Besides Trevor and I, there was a group of six men who had gone to high school together and who meet up every year to go skiing during this particular weekend. One of the guys is the guy on the MacSnack commericials for McDonald's. No joke. I asked him if he would sign our Big Mac box we had back in our truck. I'm not so sure he was as amused as I was. Needless to say, I never got his autograph.
In short, our weekend in Winthrop was wonderful (apparently I'm a genius at alliteration), and maybe, just maybe, we will turn off our own TV more often.