Except in my case "chocolate" is a broad term. I never know what new baby related debacle I'll encounter each day, whether or not your screaming is cause for legitimate concern, or if you're going to need anger management therapy when your bottle is finished.
I. don't. know.
I have thought and said that phrase more times in the past month than I have during all my years of math class. Combined and multiplied. Pun intended.
Thanksgiving 2013 was quite the event for us. Not only was it your first big holiday celebration, but it was also our first trip to our hometown with you in tow. It dawned on me the night before we left that packing would be no easy feat, but I grossly underestimated the task before me. After a night of little sleep (what else is new) I finally got up and going around 8:00 that morning. Tripping over the Vicks humidifier cord and stepping my foot in the trash can by the bed were just blips on that day's radar of obstacles.
Good morning!
Every single miniscule task was ten thousand times more difficult. How am I supposed to unload the dishwasher, fold the clothes when the dryer buzzes, and make bottles when someone is screaming at me at the top of their lungs with a vibrato that would warrant an audition in the world's most prestigious choir?
All in all it took six hours to pack for Ryan, me, and Emmy. Six hours. Let's meditate on that outrageous amount of time for a brief moment, shall we?
Things that would have taken less time than my packing:
1) Reading the entire Gone With the Wind book. Make that watching the movie, too.
2) Re-painting this shed with a craft brush
3) Cutting this grass with a push mower and broken leg
And just minutes before we left town a bottle of Diet Sunkist came flying off the top shelf of the refrigerator, bursting and sending orange particles and artificial sugar ALL OVER the kitchen.
You held my hand all the way home on our big trip. It was so sweet.
You were a highly anticipated guest in our hometown for the week of Thanksgiving. Here are the paparazzi that chased us as we got off the I-95 exit.
Your grandparents and uncles are GAGA for you. They practically tripped over us trying to get a glimpse of you as we brought you in.
Debra Moody jumps over a kitchen chair as Emerson arrives.
You're getting more expressive with your face each day, and it's so fun to watch. You also crack smiles a LOT.
You have even mastered that grief stricken look your Daddy gets when we receive a large bill in the mail.
Our parents' houses may as well have been the Ritz Carlton Hotel over Thanksgiving, because each night the grandparents took charge of feedings and let us sleep. I didn't know what to do with myself!
However they, too, experienced a few challenges. The intricacies of architecture in Dubai are less difficult than trying to get you to fall asleep sometimes. I just don't get it.
Some nights I think of every possible song to play or sing for you, and the majority of the time it works. I am left with the other percent of the time that it does not, and it kills me. My feet can be weary from carrying you, my arms contorted in such a way that makes you comfortable, and I can walk the same path back and forth, round and round like a lunatic until you are absolutely out. So I think...
Then I bend over so meticulously to place you in your bassinet that I will no doubt be receiving junk mail from the local Orthopedic surgeons any day now.
50% off your next spinal alignment procedure!
But the moment your body touches that bassinet you crack open an eye, and my faint wish of sleep is as likely as me successfully packing all of my belongings in a Smart car.
You have your repertoire of songs that you like, and "Frosty the Snowman" is one of the usual hits. The other night I was desperate to break free of the monotony and began singing "Rock-a-Bye Baby." Has anyone in their right mind ever paid attention to the actual lyrics to this song?
Rock-a-bye baby on the tree top.
When the wind blows the the cradle will rock. (I sense some infant agitation here)
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall. (Now we'll really have a meltdown)
And down will come baby (???) cradle and all.
On what planet is this song supposed to be soothing?
Perhaps this fascination with falling is all part of the circle of life...
I suppose new parents are so completely out of touch with reality that the words just don't sink in. Besides, who needs serenity anyway?
At first you only fussed at the Carlson household, which was equally hilarious and predictable. At barely a month old you could sense the chaos that surrounds the walls of that home.
Moody vs Carlson moods
At one point we could practically pinpoint exactly when you'd have a meltdown.
Emerson Moody Screaming, next zoo show at 2:30 am.
And what's funnier than being angry as a hornet while wearing your "Love to Smile" shirt?
False advertising.
Most times your brief fits are a result of a diaper dilemma.
En route to the bathtub on the changing pad.
I do have to admit that the majority of the time you are wonderful. You were such an angel while meeting so many of our loved ones last week. They could hardly wait to get their hands on you and arms around you!
We are currently in negotiations with the eye doctor to get you a customized pair of sunglasses for camera flash protection.
I had my first outing by myself with friends last Wednesday afternoon: seeing Catching Fire with Joy and Dorothy! Those characters think poisonous fog, wild monkeys, and other plagues are life threatening. Try scurrying around that arena with a screaming newborn. Then I'd be impressed.
Joy also gave me a very sweet and sentimental Birthday gift: Hello Kitty PJs for the days when getting dressed up isn't going to happen, dry shampoo when I don't have time to wash my hair, Hello Kitty soap after changing diapers, and Mr. Bubbles for the times when I need to relax- all placed in a bag with a bicycle on it to reminisce of the days when we would ride together around the circle. What a wonderful gift from a lifelong friend!
Then there was Thanksgiving day!!!
You met even MORE family, and we had tons of food including turkey, dressing, desserts, and your personal favorite: formula.
Forget the sweet tea, pass me that baby!!!
Actual quote from Collin, regarding Emerson: "She might even be cuter than I am." LOVE THAT BOY!!!
Talk about a food coma. That night we continued Thanksgiving at the Carlson residence. Due to previous years of turkey trauma Jay was nominated to do the ceremonious carving.
The next day you turned one month old!!! It was also Black Friday. A premonition perhaps?
I was SO EXCITED to go shopping for your first Christmas.
That was until every single item I thought was "fun" had these little phrases on them that flushed my good ideas right down the toilet: Ages 1, 2, 3 & up. Seriously, WHAT are you supposed to buy for an infant??
Here, play with this sponge.
Or how about this plush brick?
No, wait. Move over, Tickle Me Elmo. Check out this tupperware box!
While I did manage to get you some fabulous clothing, books, and movies, it was a definite reminder of why Christmas morning was so much fun during toddler and elementary school years.
Sorry, royal princess car. Maybe in a couple of years.
But let's not talk about you growing up. You can play with that tupperware box and sponge until you're twenty five as long as I can keep you.
And I'll tell you who else is smitten with you. Your Daddy.
You are way more special to him than even his latest prize:
Daddy also enjoyed his trip to the Clemson/Carolina game last weekend, and much to the dismay of your Poppy (Randy), your Daddy is trying to raise you as a Gamecock.
Five wins in a row.
Flashback to both of your grandfathers meeting you for the first time in the hospital and you can clearly see they were already trying to pull you in different directions.
I still say that no box seat would beat the spot I had during this year's game.
Uncle Jay came and stayed with us this Monday on his Birthday! He adores you!
Who says you can't buy time? Shout out to Bi-Lo for this cookie cake that would have taken at least an hour or two.
The month of December is going to be HUGE!!! I am working on more projects and items than your average marketing company. But we'll see to it that your first Christmas is everything you imagined...as if you care! But I care.
Emmy, stop jumping around for joy as we decorate the tree. Calm yourself!
While walking you around the house this morning I told you how much I loved you and that I want you to ask Jesus into your heart one day so that we can be together forever in Heaven.
After all, that's the place from which you came.
With greatest joy and no fun toys,
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