Unexpected

Have you ever done something expecting a certain outcome, only to have it completely change who you are? Mommyhood is that way for me. Before having my wild thing I expected, whole-heartedly, that I would return to work. The longer I'm home with him, the less I want to return to work. For those of you thinking, "Yeah, right. She was kidding herself." I actually did plan to return to my teaching job. And I'm all about plans. They're how I function on a daily basis.

The first thing that made me think I could go straight back to work is that I returned to work at 6 weeks with my cowboy. I left him with family and friends to go to the gym and for evenings out. It was no big deal! I was 21 and rockin' life as a "single" mommy. As I recall, I left my little cowboy with an aunt at two weeks old to go out drinking.

What!?! Looking back now, I feel like I was a crazy person and feel a not insignificant amount of mommy guilt. Several things have changed since then. First, and foremost, me. Life has changed me. Loss has changed me. My cowboy meant the world to me. We were BFFs and, if you ask him, were getting married someday. Since losing my cowboy I have thought about every moment that I wasn't super mom and regret that I wasn't better.

The second thing that made me think I would return to work is that I am a driven woman. I'm not your typical stay at home mommy type. I don't like to cook, clean, and craft 24/7. (Not that I think all SAHMs are like that. Nor do I judge those that are. Lol.) And on top of being driven, I keep a tight rein on my emotions. I expected to love my wild thing, but from a safe distance. Even though I don't even really know what that means. Throughout my pregnancy I kept an emotional distance and was worried I wouldn't be able to love him.


Nothing could have prepared me for the truth. Hours after my wild thing's birth I felt a love for him that was so strong. It hurt me physically. I sat, stared at him, and cried. I never believed, after loving my cowboy so much and losing him, that I had it in me to love bigger. I was wrong! Let me repeat...wrong. My former un-emotional self has been missing since then.

But back to the point...
I sit and stare at my teaching contract with that large-ish number while holding my wild thing. I'm torn apart inside. Leave him everyday for 8 hours? It seems like mission impossible, not to mention every fiber of my being tells me not to do it. Finding acceptable childcare is a struggle, which we have not conquered. I haven't left him at all and have pretty significant anxiety about doing so at this point. (Yes, I realize it's a little extreme.) Dealing with losing my cowboy has left me struggling to mother my wild thing without becoming a total crazy mama.

My question is...what the heck am I supposed to do? What is the right thing for me? My wild thing? My family? My heart pulls one way and my practical side pulls the other. Decisions need to be made. Fingers crossed.

Adventures in Canning

Let me start by saying that I am not now, nor have I ever been, a farmer. Neither am I Susie Homemaker. I buy food at the grocery store and frequent restaurants. My repertoire of recipes is limited. Canning is a new adventure for me. Several years ago when my father and I planted a small garden. My grandmother suggested canning to us. We laughed! Each year we had an overabundance of veggies because of the fertile soil (READ: horse poop). While we have the best of intentions when it comes to eating the crops, they continue to rot on the vine. Today, we finally tried our hand at canning tomatoes. Here is part of this year's crop.

While many would say it's relatively simple, there's a lot involved. Some of the items we learned to use quite laughably. I tried to use the jar thongs upside-down. Oops! And I had to squeeze lemons for the juice, since we forgot it at the store.

While most of our skill was developed by trial and error, in addition to a heavy reliance on the Ball recipe book. We also had a little help from another blog that I found, called The Yummy Life. This blogger is much more skilled than I am. Holy cow! It took both of us to successfully include everything in each jar and make sure we followed the steps. The last thing we wanted was to fail miserably.

Shortly after we began (Okay...it was actually an hour. That's really good for him.), my wild thing needed attention. He was no longer satisfied to hang out in his bouncer and watch as us fumble through blanching and peeling tomatoes. He wanted to be in on the action. I wrapped him up in my Moby and wore him. He promptly fell asleep for the next 2 1/2 hours. :) For those of you who don't know...babywearing is awesome! I can satisfy my wild thing AND have the use of both my arms. (But I'll go into that another time.)

Jar, lemon juice, garlic clove, jalapeno slices, tomatoes, juice, remove air, measure space, sea salt, lid...repeat. Turns out we had way more tomatoes than we anticipated and ended up needing to do two batches. With a 40 minute processing time in the water bath, we took a lunch break and barely got motivated to finish our project. My dad is the kind of guy who likes jobs to be quick and painless. I think this was more than he bargained for.

Four hours and 17 jars later...

The jars came out of the water bath and we were so excited each time we heard the pop of a lid. Pop. pop, pop! They were sealing. Yay us! We proudly announced to my wild thing that we were skilled canners prepared to take on apples and banana peppers and jalapenos. Oh my!

Wish me luck! ;)

Good Morning to Me

Making my oatmeal and toast this morning (like nearly every day lately) and hear my wild thing "talking" in the bedroom with his daddy. Makes me happy. How will I ever leave him to go to work? Sweet moments like this make it hard to imagine being away from him.

Who we are...

My cowboy has been gone from my arms for 7 years. He was four-years-old. He had a kind heart and joyful spirit. I continue to mourn the life that he didn't have. My wild thing lays in my arms sleeping. He's two months old. He's the sweetest boy. I can't wait to see what life has in store for him. My two boys have my heart. Every day is filled with joy and fear. Joy for the love that I have for them. Fear of losing my wild thing.