He wakes up early and turns on NFL Sunday Preview.  It’s gonna be a great birthday!  He forgets and runs back to his room to put on the jersey of his favorite football player.  His athletic hero.  After watching for awhile he plays a video game, still wearing his jersey.  It’s not time for kick-off yet, so he waits for his parents to take him to the park for a little while to play on the swings. 

Sounds like a great birthday for a 7-year-old boy doesn’t it?  It wasn’t.  It was the birthday of my 37-year-old husband.  I love you Greyson and I’m glad you can stay young-at-heart, old man.  I love you!  Happy Birthday! 

See, we really did go to play on the swings with his parents who are in town.  Charlotte loved it!



The Birthday Boy playing video games with his baby in Panthers gear.

Sometimes Greyson and I switch when it comes to traditional gender stereotypes.  Example:  I’m a slob and Greyson is a nag.  He usually nags me to clean up after my slobbish ways.  I would guess in most households the man is the slob and the woman is the nag.

Another example: last night I really wanted to watch the new episode of Family Guy on the DVR.  I think this crude, “traditional guy show” is freakin sweet!  Greyson wanted to watch the two episodes of the dramatic, “traditional chick show”, Grey’s Anatomy, that we have sitting on the DVR.  He said, “You don’t even like Grey’s anymore.  That was our thing.”

He’s right.  It was our thing.  We’ve been following the saga of Seattle Grace Hospital since Meredith Grey was an intern.  We can tell you about every love triangle and miraculous medical breakthrough, not to mention all the hot doctor sex.

www.abc.com Hot Docs! It was a special time we took together to sit down and watch a TV show.  We took an hour a week to snuggle on the couch even when Greyson was a grad student and needed to study.  He says it was a special time for him to forget everything for an hour back in 2009 when he was laid off.  We loved that show.

So we decided to give it another go earlier this week.  We started playing the season premiere.  We sat down on the couch.  Charlotte started crying.  Ginger started barking.  The phone rang.  We did our parental duties and sat down again.   As we watched I was thinking, “Okay, I better see some McSteamy sex or some dying patient who teaches the doctors a lesson soon!”  

Just then Greyson looks at me and says, “Okay,  I’m bored.  Charlotte’s fussy.  I just don’t think we have the time to devote to hour long dramas anymore.  I think we’re done with Grey’s.”

I was relieved and agreed with him. We saved the episodes on the DVR just in case we find two spare hours.  If I think about it, we really saved the episodes for old times’ sake.  I’ll miss our show, but he’s right.  We’ve moved on.  It’s the end of an era.  We’re now in an era of quick 30 minute comedies. If I’m being honest we’re barreling towards days of Nick Jr.and all that other crap toddlers watch on TV.

The thing is.  Both genders are okay with it.  So long, Seattle Grace!

I’m not sure what it is, but whenever the air gets the slightest bit crisp parents of young children are suddenly compelled to dress their babes up in their finest autumn attire and take their pictures with pumpkins.  This compulsion is understood as it is colorful, adorable, and you need something to do on weekend fall afternoons between football games.  

“Mama, look at all these pumpkins!  $6.00 a piece?  I’ll take ’em all!”

“This one, Daddy!”

“I’m gonna take off my shoe and be a big ham for the camera, okay?”

“Me and my ruffle butt are out of here!”

Dear Charlotte,
Oh sweet baby, you are growing so fast!  This month you traveled on an airplane, went out of the country, walked more, and grew a third tooth!

Oh, and you’ve gotten loud, really loud.  Whether it’s talking, babbling, or yelling it is much louder than it used to be.  Even though it is ear splitting at times, Daddy and I love to hear your “Mamamamas” and “Dadadada’s”.   Other times your voice is really soft and sweet, almost a whisper.  I call it your “Pebbles Flintstone” voice.

At 10 months or so you started this tiring charming little quirk of waking up in the middle of the night.  You spoiled us by sleeping through the night at about 2 weeks, so we’re not quite sure what to make of this.  Now that you’ve reached 11 months we’re hoping you’ll grow out of it.

Every time I nurse you I try to cherish it because I know we’ll be weaning soon.  We’ve cut down on some nursing and bottle feedings.  You are eating the full menu at school so your diet expanded big time this month.  We love watching you try new foods.

Now, as I get really excited for your first birthday party, I’m trying to not plan too much and slow down and remember to enjoy you as an 11 month old.

I love you, my darling, darling girl.
Love,
Mama

Photo by Beth Anne

Yesterday Charlotte and I laced up our sneakers for the StrollerThon ’11 with my lovely friend and sorority sister, Beth Anne.  You may know her as Blair.  The StrollerThon raises money for Postpartum Education and Support.  This group provides resources, support, and awareness of perinatal mood disorders.

Before our excursion we fueled my addiction to Pumpkin Spice Lattes with a Starbucks run, and refilled Beth Anne’s stroller tire with air.  (I got cute shots of the tire repair, but she was squatting in the pic, and no one wants to be on the Internet squatting.  You’re welcome, BA!)

We put our babes in their hoodies and matching Bumblerides and we were off in the glorious fall weather! 

It was funny.  There was a little blog talk, but no college reminiscing.  It was about the present.  It was about where we are now.  Beth Anne is a survivor.  She’s a walking, make that a strolling, proof there is life after Postpartum Depression.  She is a HUGE inspiration to me and I was so proud to be strolling along beside her.  

After the walk she got a free massage.  

I may not be posting the squatting pic, but I am posting this one.  Ha!

Charlotte and Harrison got a chance to play.  She was all about this “older man”.  I don’t think he was so sure.  

Charlotte could have cared less about the actual playground.  The mulch was her fascination.  This was her tushy…. 

Beth Anne took this one.  Love it!

I think Beth Anne and I having a morning in the present, with our babies is proof there is life after PPD.  I’m doing well, and she’s doing well.  She went home and wrote this, and I couldn’t be happier for her.