Goodbyes are tough

I was reminded of this sweet fact when you had your last day today at Beach Babies. I was surprised at just how sad I felt about it-- this was the dreaded "Day Care"- the place that I thought I would die of sadness by sending you here when I went back to work in October. But here it is, just 4 1/2 months later, and I have to swallow away the lump of tears in my throat as I go to pick you up.

My emotions are overwhelming. I remember back to our first days here. For the first few weeks I would go with you. Me, adult- sized

mom, sitting on the floor of the daycare surrounded by bushels of babies and loads of teeny tiny stuff. The teachers would ask, "Who needs their diaper

changed?" and I would joke, "I'm good right now. Thanks." I was a little embarrassed that I wasn't ready to leave you alone and I fully admitted that I knew you would transition just fine- It was me that I was worried about. They joked that I should wear their uniform T-shirt because I was there so much. Even after you started I would stop by whenever I could. The first few weeks I would go at lunch every day, just to be with you. I wanted to really know all the women that worked there. I needed them to know me too. I needed the place to feel like home to me. I needed them to see just how much I love you, for them to see how close you and I are, how precious you are to me- because I thought if they saw all of this- then they would take extra special loving care of the most important little boy in the world of mine.

Beach Babies made me feel like an honest to goodness card carrying parent at your Halloween Show and Christmas Pageant. I can't explain the excitement I felt, sitting in the audience, waiting for my boy to take the stage!

christmas pageant 2009

I think the thing that did me in on your last day, the thing that just jumped inside my heart and said, "Come on out tears", was the Goodbye card they made you. It made me realize that you are officially your own little person now. You are so special

that lots of people miss you when you aren't around, not just family members. It reinforced what I already knew- you possess these tangible and intangible things that all together make you Greyson, and gives you your Greyson-ness and I was just so overwhelmed with pride and love and emotion I almost burst.

So although this is a sad goodbye, we've got so many new and exciting hello's right around the corner.

Dear Greyson,
Every day I think about the lessons you will learn from life...Some of them I will teach you, some I wish you didn't have to learn...If you are anything like your mother, you will have the patience of a gnat. I'm pretty great at starting new things..coming up with a plan and executing it. I'm also good at finishing up a project. Tieing up all the loose ends. Sitting back afterwards with that "Ahhhhhh" smugness that only comes with accomplishment. It's the middle that causes me to furrow my brow in the most despicable way....I'm in that slump right now. Paralyzed with inaction. I hate the middle sometimes. I'm not talking about the "I wish this day would never end" middle. I'm talking about the - how much longer do I need to hold on? I want to be finished. I want to know the answers, RIGHT NOW PLEASE. I'm ready to start the next project.
We are waiting for our house to sell so we can move away from this heavenly piece of perfection in Hermosa Beach, to start a new and heavenlier life...but we can't until we sell the house. And starting March 1st we have no daycare...and no other option for you currently...and I'm trying to figure out how I'm gonna make something happen in the next week...and until we sell the house, daddy has to be gone Monday through Friday. And, it's hard for all of us. Sometimes I have to remember to see the rainbows and focus on the beauty of this journey. Knowing that we are on the journey together makes it oh so sweet though. Really. Mondays are tough though, and today is Monday and I feel it in my tired bones. Usually by the time Thursday rolls around I've figured out my pace, I'm confident and positive and remembering just how lucky I am to have so much. I focus on the fact that this time in our lives is so temporary. I remind myself that this in between time is still full of beautiful firsts, of sunny days, of afternoon naps, and walks with Jack and Belle.
So as you grow up, I'm starting to learn how sweet it is in the middle.
Love, Love, Love,
Momma
Here's some more shots of the adventures we've had while we're passing the time...

Our perfect Day

I decided today that "perfect" is sooo last year. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't even close to perfect last year, but I sure did agonize over attaining it. This is the year of "just how it is", Grey. Do you know why? Because this year there are so many other important things for us to focus on. Adventures to go on, foods to try, things to learn, people to meet--and we sure can't let trying to be perfect get in the way of our real fun while we are enjoying the real stuff.
Today was perfect, in the new sense of the word. Today we had adventures together and it was just like I had always imagined it would be to have a little boy....but

better. Sure, anyone can have fun at Disney World, or on a magical vacation, but the Kelly's can have fun doing nothing, as long as we are together.
We started out the day with an impromptu photo shoot, outside, with no pants on (you, not me) Isn't that awesome? My little leprechaun.
I'm loving dad's new Christmas present from us, our Canon camera. I can't wait to learn to use the bells and do-dads.
You took a super long nap. Then you and I drove to Pink Berry for some frozen yogurt. I'm sure you know, YOGURT IS MY FAVORITE! I was so excited to let you try some for the first time. I put the spoon in your mouth, with just a tad bit of yogurt on it, ready to exult in the beauty of the face you were surely to make! But immediately afterwards, you buried your face in my shoulder and I couldn't see your expression! You seemed to enjoy the frozen concoction after that and I know before long you will demand your very own swirled goodness. Then we went and dropped off the dry cleaning in a nice and fancy super easy, drive through cleaners so you could remain cozy in your car seat. Then we drove with the windows down listening to our favorite music, singing and enjoying the warm February California sunshine. It was bliss. We went to one of my favorite places to be, a bookstore where we sat on the floor while I searched for my newest book.
As we waited in line I was so proud to have you slung perfectly and casually over my arm. I was the mom and you were that adorable baby in front of someone in line, just trying to get you smile. And when you did (after they worked for it) you made their whole day. I love to watch the way you make other people light up, my little man.
The best part of today is that I know we have a good 30-40 years of random, fun adventures ahead of us. I can't wait.

Vegas...(without my) baby

On September 22, 2008 I found out you were coming into my life. Now you are 8 months old and we have been together every single day and every single night since that life altering remarkable day. Bliss. Even when it wasn't. How could I function going anywhere with out my heart?! I wouldn't dream of it!
Now here I sit on Monday at LAX, me and my heavy heart, without you. I see mommas with their babies, everywhere. Not. Fair. One part of me wants to hop in a cab and just come home. I imagine walking in the front door, "I'm home", I call out. "I just couldn't do it. I can't leave you." then the adult, stinking "practical" part of me says, go...let go. He will be alright. You may even get some more sleep at night. You don't have to leave him again if you don't want to after this trip.
I torture myself, imagining you waking up tonight, voice hoarse from your cold, crying and needing only one simple thing- to lie in the crook of my arm, snuggled up against me where you fit as if it was customized just for you. You always go silent with contentedness when dad places you in your nook, and the only remaining noise coming from you is an adorable repeated sigh that comes with each exhale. I miss you Grey. Friday can't come soon enough.
Mom

Army Crawl

Today was a day that will go down in Greyson Kelly history. Today you became, kinda sorta, almost, soon to be...mobile. The day we've been excitedly waiting for, maybe even dreading a little too.
You've been teasing us for at least a month now. You get up on all fours and just rock. I sit and stare, silent as to not distract you, holding my breath...is this it? is he going to crawl now?! Until today, the answer was always a no. Sometimes even a "HECK NO! Get me off my tummy woman!"
A friend with a baby three weeks older than you told me that her baby started crawling because he was dieing to get his hands on these toy balls that belonged to his older brother. I thought- I don't know if that would work for Greyson because he doesn't really go ga-ga over anything. The only thing I could think of were pretzels. Sure, you aren't eating solid foods yet, you don't have teeth, and you certainly can't eat pretzels, but sometimes, I let you suck on a pretzel or two. Man can't live off milk and puree alone, right? Well tonight, I set the bait. A pretzel lieing in front of you on the living room floor. The world stopped as you, Greyson Michael Kelly figured out how to propel yourself forward to claim your prize. The grin on my face hasn't worn off.
So many firsts for us tonight. First crawl for you and the first taste of pure delicious motherly pride for me.
I love you, buddy.

Baby Boy

It started just recently....sometimes when I look at you, I'm shocked....and I can't quite catch my breath for just a mini- second...very suddenly, and yet slowly lingering all along somehow, you are looking less like a little baby, and more like...a real, honest to goodness, little boy. My little boy. The boy I will hear first words from, and take to Disney Land. The boy I will read bedtime stories to, and eat ice cream cones with.
And it scares me and brings me so much joy all at once. But the next thing I know, I look at you again and I am relieved to see the little baby that's been here all along.

June 7th

June 7th was the day that you exploded into the world. I love that date. June 7th is a magical song that I sing. I was so scared Grey...not of the actual birth...that was almost easy. It was everything after that when my hands started shaking and my heart started racing. When you were inside my belly, it was easy. Life was so easy, but of course I didn't realize it in the moment. But then you came out and I was so nervous. I was a mom. I was responsible for you. And now I had seen you and met you and realized that you were so small and so sweet and so innocent and so painfully perfect, and deserved everything exceptional in the world and I was so scared that I would screw it all up. The first night I didn't sleep at all. I just kept staring at this tiny little blue eyed baby doll lying next to me in a bassinet. You were so still and so quiet, so sweet and innocent, doing great at just being a baby. I had no clue what I was doing though. What did that cry mean? It sounded different than the one earlier. What am I supposed to do to get him to stop? Do I need to change him? Feed him? Bounce him? I don't know what to do- and those "motherly instincts" I heard about seem to be failing me now.
I felt so badly for you! What must this poor little guy be thinking?! His entire Universe just got flipped upside down and backwards! His safe, warm, cozy dark nest just turned into a loud, bright, scary circus adventure and marching band. I ached and longed to make you feel safe and loved, yet I didn't know just how to make sure I was doing that for you. I know I protected you in the hospital- like a mother bird. I cried when you were poked or hurt. I would hold you tight and whisper in your ear, "We are going to make it through this. We'll be alright." The learning curve for both of us has been huge. My heart has grown bigger than the entire Universe. The love is almost painful, and I feel so much awe and reverence for Motherhood...for you...I hope you will always let me love you this whole-heartedly, no apology, laugh out loud amazingly so.

RSV, no p

Dad started work this week in Fresno. For awhile it's going to be you and me, Monday through Friday, kiddo. I was long dreading this week. So afraid I couldn't be enough or do enough with him gone. I questioned myself over and over in my mind. Suddenly February came- his start date-- and I knew I had no choice but to embrace it. Monday went by in a blur, when I woke up I realized that my cold had changed into a sinus infection. The next thing I know it was Tuesday. I picked you up from school and one of the teachers pointed to a notice, informing the parents that there was an exposure of RSV (a viral respiratory infection). At once, I knew you had it. Your eyes looked glassy and you had been coughing more than usual the restless evening before.
We drove directly to your Dr. (thanks to Dad for calling ahead for us) where it was confirmed.
RSV- no more school for you for the week.
What?! I thought we'd go crazy- stuck at home, 24/7.
Now it is Thursday, and I can honestly say, being at home is so much easier than I had expected.
I mean--yes, it's really hard work- but it's so amazing--being with you. Nursing you back to health. We are inseparable, you and me, and I love it. Your lungs crackle like rice crispies when you inhale, but your spirits are high and your smiles are as frequent as ever.
This morning you awoke with chatter at 7am. With my eyes still closed I thought, "PLEASE...Just a few more minutes of sleep..." I finally opened my eyes, ready to pout about the way too early call time and all I see is you and your face, realizing I am awake and sporting a grin as big as the sun.
We're gonna do just fine as long as we're together and I'm overwhelmed by just how much I love you.