Captain Heartbreaker

I found a pair of pajamas for Lake recently that say "Captain Heartbreaker" across the top. They also boast a glittery broken heart, with wings, reminiscent of an old Arrowsmith logo, or 80's CD cover of some sort. They're just darling. He's been practicing his new monicker lately, particularly seeming to focus most of his heartbreaking techniques on his already "hooked-on-him" mother; as she's a likely (and willing) target for his cunning ploys. (His father had me hooked on him for years, if you all remember that long ago, so it would make sense this same trait would befall his only child now wouldn't it?) Daddy had a few tricks up his sleeve, so of course, Lake does too.

Heartbreaking Technique #1: He's taken to ignoring me completely--especially, if there are any other men in the room. Primarily, his father. Or Jack. Or the mailman. He won't even let me pick him up if daddy's in the room. But, at least he's in love with his daddy. Aren't we all?

Heartbreaking Technique #2: He's becoming fierecely independent...wanting to feed himself, dress himself, refuses to be carried, is boycotting "rocking", and any other type of cuddly type baby stuff that I, of course, LOVE. Which translates to me not having a "baby" anymore, but a little boy. Sniff. Sniff. Unless he's sick. Then it's all mama, all the time.

Heartbreaking Technique #3: He's fiercelly independent...unless we are leaving him at daycare (triple sniff), or the nursery during church--where an immense meltdown ensues, typically with me trying to awkwardly leave the room while he's screaming at the top of his lungs, with both arms wrapped around my legs, while my heart breaks in two, and leaves his little face all scrunched up like a sour grape. Which reminds me he is still a baby, and he still does need his mama, but it's heartbreaking for me anyway. Although I know the second I leave, he turns into a rock star with all the toys, books, and commotion in the room.

I'm completely over the moon, hooked on, addicted to, and in love with this child. I'm afraid he'll try to take his heartbreaker status too far though, by behaving badly. For example, he will not allow any other child to sit on our lap. I saw it again today, in the nursery at church. He's quite jealous (unfotunately, he gets that from me) and will immediately attempt to push the child off our either mine, or John's, lap. Hmmmmm. I think that means it's time for baby number two.

Maybe that will help even out the favoritism a little too...we'll call it "payback" for all the heartbreak he, and daddy, have given me; which I wouldn't trade in ten million years. I just have to have an excuse to want another baby, right?

And of course, now I can't get "HeartBreaker" by Pat Benatar outta my head..."You're a heart breaker, dream maker, love taker, don't you mess around with me"...Repeat.

Golden Girl

My great Aunt Jean passed away this weekend. She's my Granny's only sister, and a real jewel of a lady. I can't help but picture her as I've always known her..blonde, tan, smiling. A true 'golden girl', if you will. Aunt Jean (Norma Jean Summerton) was always a big part of our family. As a child, we'd spend hours at her home in Kokomo-it had a pool, and was always packed with snacks; and of course, all the grandkids & cousins!   She owned a tavern, 'Norma's Place', in downtown Kokomo (as a kid, I always thought it was soooo cool that a classy lady like her owned a tavern), and eventually sold it to become a retired snowbird. She's been in Florida for years now, another place for her to enjoy the sunshine and beautiful weather, and the perfect place to work on her golden glow. She was made with a heart of gold..she was an amazing mother, grandmother, sister, Aunt, and friend to all of us.   She'd just written Lake a beautiful letter for his birthday, and sent him a dollar bill. It's hard to think she never actually had the chance to meet him. As I grow older, I recognize missed opportunities, and I'm sad I hadn't taken the a chance to go see her in the past several years. I'm grateful Aunt Jean had family with her in Florida as her cancer progressed. Just last week, they took a drive down the coast and had a picnic together...she said it reminded her of years past, when she had all the kids & grandkids at her place.   Although I never actually stepped inside her tavern, I'll always have a special place in my heart for my Aunt Jean. I think I'll hang a little wooden sign on it, and call it "Norma's Place"..she would really like that.   We love you Jeannie..You will be missed.

Topsy Turvey

I'm a mess. Not a "hot" one, but a mess--never the less. One day I'm up emotionally; the next day I'm digging myself out of a deep, dingy, dirty, emotional dumpster. I've had a perpetual pout on my pucker for at least two weeks. February finally fled-which I thought would certainly do the trick. It didn't. I'm not sure if it's Lake's upcoming daycare enrollment that has me bamboozled, or if it's the fact I feel there's never the right amount of time to dedicate to each of the things I love the most: my God, my husband, my child, my home, my job, my friends, my hobbies, my life. No one gets a fair shake, it's not fair! Yes, I'm whining. This is me throwing a virtual fit. I'm stomping my feet in despair. Poor, poor, pitiful me. It isn't that I don't feel blessed, because I do. I know I'm lucky to only have to work part-time. Most people don't have that luxury. And, it isn't because I'm not happy, I am. My marriage is strong. I am just not sure WHAT it is I'm supposed to be doing with my life. Does anyone else ever go through this? What is my purpose? What am I called to do? I feel as if I'm just spinning my wheels, stuck in the mud...although I'm not quite sure WHERE it is I'm even SUPPOSED to be going. I feel like I'm just not doing "enough"-enough for God, enough for my family, enough for me. Just wondering if I'm the only spinning wheel on the surface of the earth?