Mea culpea that is.
The other is "I've been meaning to update the blog but I got busy, tired, occupied, busy, tired.. you get the idea.
So here I am, typing away vigorously to get out of my head the many things that I need to share with you the few faithful that check this thing on occasion -- and yes, you know who you are.
Bitch please.
That's for Courtney.
Prior to rambling mode, we will enter update mode and get you all up to speed on Meghan's life of late. Because really, who needs reality programming when you can read all about the comings and goings of some middle class, white woman in Iowa and her band of merry men -- that being Joe and Finn of course.
So flash back about two weeks.
We did in fact get Finn baptized. And I am pleased to report that it was a success. As indicated by the fact that I am here to report it and didn't get struck by lightening during the ceremony. We had a TON of people that came out, over, down and up for the big to-do, and Joe and I were thrilled.
Here is a picture of the little leprechaun in his christening gown.
A few things on this topic to discuss. Yes, that's Joe holding him. He finally got rid of the Chester the Molester, circa 1970's stache' he had been rocking for some time now. The gown itself belonged to my grandmother and all of her kids (my mother included) wore it. Unbeknownst to me, at least when we started down this path was that we -- my sisters and brother -- also wore it. No, see I figured that we had a gown and it was in our house somewhere. So I sent my sister on a mission to find it. And it had us collectively banging our heads against the wall since we couldn't find it and we all know that my mother never threw anything away. In a conversation with my Aunt, we finally connected all the dots. So here he was, in a 90-some-odd year-old family gown that I was for sure wouldn't fit but we made it work.Now for the next question on this topic -- what is it with guys that causes them to freak out about the idea of a gown on their son? To wit, he wore it for , oh, about 15 minutes total. It was worn over his clothes and is a CEREMONIAL GOWN. Its not like I am sending him to day care in the darn thing. But we still had to convince Joe that it was ok. Stupid masculine ego. Its apparently a delicate thing.
So long story short, our little heathen is heathen no more. Big thanks to my dear friend Julie who left her little girl for a whirl-wind weekend in Des Moines. Meant the world to have her here, even if it was an uber-short visit.
We followed up the ceremony with a get together back at the house. Which translated into WAY too much food, a TON of people and little munchkins all over the place.
We had a great time and it meant the world to us to have all our friends and family there to celebrate with us. Tons o' pictures out on the Flickr site if you care to browse.
The following weekend was Mother's Day.
I am not sure I am ever going to be totally down with this day. Celebrating Mother's day without your mom pretty much sucks. And while the things that were done for me were lovely, its just a bittersweet day. Not sure much will ever change that. But I got flowers and a great gift from my boys.
The other bitter pill I learned to swallow was a developmental one. Last Tuesday, I went to pick up Finn and his teacher informs me that he had a "big day". He rolled over. Not once, but twice in her presence. This bummed me out. Of course, I got home, told Joe, and promptly placed him on his stomach waiting for the big event to repeat itself.
My stubborn child is not a trained monkey.
And no matter the cajoling, the tempting, or encouraging, he wasn't going to perform.
I then decided, until I see it...it didn't happen. Isn't going in the baby book, so there.
In other updates, I hate shopping. And not just for me this time. We went out on Saturday to track down an outfit for Finn for this wedding that we are going to this weekend. Its in Chicago and Joe is actually in the wedding, so we wanted something nice.
Forget about it. If he was a girl, I could buy 3 dresses for every day of the week. Boys, no luck. Adding to the dilemma, its getting to spring/summer. So what pseudo-dressed up stuff they had, well they were shorts.
And yes, I could have found something for him, but I refuse to spend $50 on an outfit that he will wear once MAYBE twice.
So after being annoyed and not one, but 3 different kids stores this weekend, I went looking for a dress for me.
Here is the scoop, as I said, Joe is in the wedding, so he will be in a tux. This alone is reason to look nice. 2) I haven't met a good portion of the friends that will be there. Thus, I am sure someone is thinking, who is this skeezy baby-momma he is bringing with him? I say this because if it was one of my guy friends, that is the approach I would take. And three, its a wedding. You dress appropriately for them. Few things are more annoying than people that do not dress to the occasion.
All those things in play, I went looking for an dress. Not for lack of dresses in my closet. But for lack of dresses that fit the post-baby body that I am currently living in.
And in a familiar vein, I will caveat this. I am only 3 lbs off my pre-pregnancy weight. That weight wasn't fantastic by any means. However, the way I am carrying it had me trying on dresses that were 3 sizes larger than I normally wear JUST TO FIT MY BOOBS.
So they would fit there, and then yards of fabric would envelope me.
Its great for the ego.
No really. Just went you think, hm - -maybe I don't look too bad. You have a run in with a changing room that sends you off the deep end. Or at least in search of chocolate. Because nothing makes a bad shopping trip better like high-calorie, pure fat snacking like say, a Snickers.
Let's hear it for the healing power of empty calories.
So I am going to give it another go tomorrow and hope that I can find a dress that will contain Mt Killamanjaro and its twin, Mt. KillaMyselfEsteem.
Keep your fingers crossed.
And the last sorta morose thing to report of the night...
I have been working on a nightly routine with Finn. It seems to be working so far. But every night I read to him. Just those little board books, but I have always been a reader and I think books are important, so we read.
Tonight I read him "Guess How Much I Love You" which ends with the old adage, I love you to the moon and back.
Very sweet little story, perfect for a nighttime read to the little leprechaun.
Except it made me sad. See my mom and my sister used to do something like that and it just made me miss her.
Alot.
It still amazes me how its little things that will catch you off guard.
Its just really shitty to have this amazing thing in your life, a child. And not be able to share it with the one person that really wanted nothing more than to see you have kids of your own.
And there are those that will tell me, she is watching and knows what is going on.
Maybe.
Its a nice thought.
But it doesn't change the fact that she isn't here.
Pity party for one,
Ah, yes -- we have your table ready.
Ok, enough of that ickiness.
Now I am going to pick myself up, dust off the layer of gloom and doom and go watch American Idol.
Man, can I switch gears in a heartbeat or what?
