The Adventurous Faith!

Two summers ago I taught an improv class in the clubhouse of a local neighborhood. That's where I met Faith and her mom. It didn't take long for me to absolutely fall in love and be inspired by this girl. Faith has written many stories so far, and even though she has Mitochondrial disease which can slow her down a bit, she continues to share her heart and gifts tirelessly with us. I hope you will take a moment and purchase Faith's first published work. She has an E-book out. It costs $1 and is an enchanting story about a Christmas box. The info below is directly from her website. Please go to the link and purchase Christmas the Box with a Dream. You can use your credit card or pay pal. I bought mine this afternoon. The profits are going 100% to Faith and she is using it to help others.

You can also buy her latest book (it's only $1.00) at!
Faith is quite the writer! She aspires to be an author of children's books - and books of poetry - when she grows up. She's already off to a great start!

...and suddenly he was 1!

I remember so many things from the last year and nine months. Finding out. Telling Andy. Telling the families. Going to McDonalds. First ultrasound. First nausea. Going to McDonalds. First kicks. Finding out it was a boy. Having a Chick-fil-A biscuit. Swelling. Back pain. Substantial kicks. Unbearably painful kicks. Trying to stand and walk without hobbling.

Then there was the day...the one that changed my life forever. About seven hours and a grande latte into the Saturday before my due date, my water broke...19 hours and some things I wish I didn't remember later...Samuel Andrew made his first appearance. We were overjoyed. We were ecstatic. We had no idea what those first few months were going to be like. We were fools. Someone once said to me that the first three months drag like they are never going to end...then at three months, life speeds up so fast that one minute you are nervously giving your baby his first spoonful of peaches with a bottle of Benadryl in your other hand and the next you are looking at your one year old wondering if whatever he's chewing on the other side of the room is big enough to choke him.

Honestly, my feelings about this year...right or wrong go something like this. For three months I felt like I had been given a job. I was to aid in the survival of a defenseless being. Make sure he was fed, clothed, bathed and changed. Take care of all the basic needs without second guessing my every move too much and all the while trying to decode the magical language of "baby". There was some connection...albeit mostly one-sided. If he was connecting with me early on, I assure you that I had a bottle in my hand.

Then it started to change. When it actually happened, I'm not sure. But I first noticed it when he reacted to something I was doing with a devious grin or an infectious giggle. I noticed it when he first put his arms up for me to lift him because he recognized that I meant safety. I noticed it when a stranger talked to him at the grocery store and he laid his head down on my shoulder. I noticed it the first time he reached up to hold my hand while he was walking. Those moments that made my heart swell to three times it's size made me realize that I no longer have just a responsibility. I have a son. I don't have a baby...I have a son. And my son knows that he has a mom.

Although Sam is not officially one until Tuesday, today we celebrated his life with the usual...balloons, family, friends, food, presents...and of course, cake. I had some issues with my camera this week and, silly me, thought I might miss out on capturing the moment so I rushed out to buy a disposable camera. I used the disposable camera to get pictures that are going to turn out to be identical to the ones that my mother, mother-in-law, sister, brother-in-law, father-in-law and friends got. Why did I think with a family full of people who adore this little boy that I might miss a picture of something?

Sam on Birthdays: He absolutely loved the attention. He loved having Ashley and Emma there. He loved the cake. He loved his matching dump trucks. He loved that he got to get naked and take a bath in the middle of the party. No good party is without a little nudity? Perhaps just of the baby persuasion.

At any rate, we had a wonderful day surrounded by the love of a generous and sweet family. One day, Samuel will get to an age where he's conscious of the blessing that is love. For I can assure you of one thing, that this little truly loved.

Sam, I know that you will not remember your first birthday, but your family will always remember that sweet red-brown head, with those gorgeous blue eyes, licking icing and smiling for the camera.

Your dad and I are so proud and humbled to have you in our lives.

Dear Mommy Diary,

Dear Mommy Diary,

In case I bump my head and get amnesia, please remember a few things for me.

Sam would rather play with your car keys than go to the zoo so tuck that $20 back in your wallet because the zoo is overrated for adults and you can see lions and tigers not come out of their dens some other time.

You bought the Butt Paste for diaper rash, you are using it as a distraction during diaper changes. You bought the tylenol for teething and fevers, again, it is really a distraction for diaper changes. The package of Ramen noodles were bought on a day at the grocery store when you felt like it was okay to eat like a college student again, it is now being used...well, need I repeat myself again?

It doesn't matter how many less bottles Sam is taking at this point, you still go through the exact same amount of formula somehow.

After eleven months, he still thinks he needs to scream his head off just so you are aware the bottle that you are making is for him.

Yes, to the outside observer, Johnny and the Sprites is a generally creepy show...but it buys you 20 extra minutes in the morning so pull out your best jazz hands and stop complaining.

He walks. That is all he wants to do.

Right now, everyone is a "dog". Stop trying to make him say Mama...he's not feeling it.

He gets the concept of the camera. The black thing gets pointed at him, there is a click and then he is blinded for a minute and a half. He gets it therefore he won't look at you. Stop trying to capture these moments by making idiotic noises that are mistaken for Native American war cries. Get on the floor and play cars with him...those are the real memories.

A walking child is called the "survival mode" of parenting, take every example of bad parenting that you observed while you were not a parent and give it a might be pleasantly surprised.

Don't obsess over his first fact...don't obsess over any birthdays that you can't remember for yourself.

Yes, he still hates putting on clothes.

Your friend,

Sam's mom

P.S. Sam had his first dose of Halloween by going to the Church for Harvest Celebration. I never bought him a costume. I'm kind of a last minute inspiration kind of girl. So at the last minute, Sam donned a White T-shirt of mine, some silver braided Christmas decor as a belt, carried a stuffed sheep and a slingshot I made out of a Paper plate and a hair band. He was...David! David as in David and Goliath or King David. Yeah...he wasn't feelin' it. Not one bit. Glad I didn't buy him a costume.