A pause.

I look down at your precious sleeping head, those rose-bud shaped lips that occasionally still suckle in their sleep, and I remembered.

She always told me I had rosebud shaped lips.

I look at the way your blonde locks fall on each side of your perfectly-smooth baby skin. It is like ropes of gold.

She used to braid my hair back and tell me how beautiful my golden rope was.

I brush the sun-streaked locks from your forehead and kiss you, ever so gently, as to not wake you but to share my never-ending love with you.

I wonder if she kissed my head while I slept.

I see you admire the clouds as the golden rays gleam from behind the ominous darkness.

I wonder if she is up there, seeing all this from a different and slightly more beautiful angle.

I watch as you stare at your leg, your beautifully shaped leg, with it's new hard shell and try to figure a way to move about the room.

And I wonder, do you even remember when she too had a shell on her leg? We traced your hand on it. You were so scared and she was so embarrassed.

We are so much alike, you and I. Even our baby pictures are unmistakable, without the ponytails.

When you were born, she had told me this. She said you would resemble me both in looks and temperament.

I wish you could remember her. I wish you could have loved her the way I did when I was your age. I wish I could have loved her with that same passion when she died.

Today, I greave. Today, I miss her. But with each day, I am learning to appreciate that despite all the pain, regardless of the sorrow, she tried. She wanted to be the mother I am. Yes, I said it. I am a good mother to you. You are my littliest one and I will forever kiss you goodnight.

UPDATE: Slacker; but with good cause. (Maybe.)

Wow. Look how long it's been since I posted. I am really a slacker, huh?

Okay, in my defense, here's what has happened up until now.

The first day of BlogHer, I woke up dizzy. Convinced it must have been something I drank (or drank too much of) the night before, I went on and enjoyed the conference. Throughout the trip, I kept telling my friends when I was feeling funny in case I died because everyone wants to know the intricate details of my life.

No, I'm not dramatic, hush.

By "funny" I mean, the room is still moving and I'm pretty sure I'm not. People, it was like I was drunk. (No, I wasn't, again, hush.)

I finally chalked it up to my sinuses, or the cleaner they were using in the hotel, or the carpet padding, or a brain tumor. But when I got home, it was still there. One minute I'm fine and then all the sudden I'm dizzy. Here's the weird part, I can look up, down, side-to-side, and it's all good. I have no problem jumping up from a chair or laying back really quickly. So the doctor ruled out vertigo, my thyroid, anemia, and pregnancy, but not a brain tumor.

They want me to go to a neurologist and see if they can figure it out. See, here's the thing. Neurologists are apparently very busy people. Even though they have 15 doctors in their office, you still have to wait TWO WEEKS for them to see you. This damn tumor could be the size of Texas by then! Which I'm sure means it isn't anything serious or they would have rushed me in.

However, I, in typical 'Amo fashion' have enabled myself to find a bright side to this cloud of despair minor annoyance. I have found that taking your three year old into the doctor for a limp that they've had for seven days now and they tell you that he might have a fracture in his 'growth plate' in his teeny little foot with corn-nibblet toes, and that you have to go see an orthopedist to make sure, you tend to forget about your dizziness.

So I guess I'm healed.

Until he gets a cast and then we'll see if tears of guilt make the dizziness better or worse...

*****

UPDATE:

Yes, it's a full-leg cast. Shoot me now.

My BlogHer Recap. (No, you didn't miss a thing. *Ahem*)

I've been holding off on posting after BlogHer to see what everyone else was saying. Each experience is unique as with any event and I always prefer to let something sit for a while before I write about it. (Yes, I'm a dork and no, I don't plagiarize. All this crap is really mine. I know, I'm sorry too.)

Thanks to U.S. Air and the president, I was eight hours late to the first round of parties. (Yes, I am still bitter about this.) However, I did get the pleasure of inspecting every inch of the Philadelphia airport. Surprisingly, I did not jump, although the thoughts were there. However, the transvestite who had just realized his/her laptop would play music and was serenading the entire concourse with techno rap, did make me question the validity of all the CSI shows I had watched and if I could really pull it off.

Fortunately, one of my roommates, Angie, was not only at the hotel waiting for me, she held my hand on the way to the bar. That people? Is real love.

*****

When I finally arrived, I had the pleasure of meeting some of my favorite bloggers. I especially loved the looks you get when you finally get the balls to go up and introduce yourself to someone who's blog could be your life story and you find yourself with a one-sided understanding that you simply must spend hours with them in order to compare notes and they, in turn, look at you like you have a third eye. That was a good time. It could have something to do with my approach, "HI!IT'SAMOFROMRAISINGOUTDOORDOGS!"

I doubt it though.

*****

Much to my husband's delight, I finally got to meet Jenny and I think his exact words were, "GET ME AN AUTOGRAPH" but he was yelling into the phone as I was hanging it up, so I'm not completely sure what he was saying.

Isn't she gorgeous?! For the record, Mary Ann was taking this picture for me and she's apparently BIG on close-ups. *sigh* Jenny, is just as authentic and funny as she is on her blog. If you don't read it, then go add her to your reader now. I'll wait...

*****

On Friday, I ate lunch with some amazing women. My dear friend, who has one of my favorite blogs, Mary Ann; a lovely Southern belle who I've admired since Blissdom and now love even more, Alli Worthington; my first blog crush and one of the most genuine famous people I have ever met (read: NY Times best selling author), Jen Lancaster; and Cassie and Mary, who I don't know well yet, but intend to because they were both just so sweet!

Anyway, we are all eating lunch when this woman walks up to us:

Fruitcake: "Hi. Do you guys make money with your blogs?"

Us: "Um, no." (Truth: They probably do. I do this for the glory. *snort*)

Fruitcake: "Really? Like no money at all?"

Us: "No. Not a dime."

Fruitcake: "Well then, I guess I'll sit with you anyway."

Us: *thunk* -the collective sound of our jaws dropping and anyone who knows me recognizes I cannot hide ANY facial expressions.

At that point, I tuned out and tried to pretend she wasn't sitting there make an ass out of herself. If you want to read the rest of the conversation, poor Mary Ann was stuck listening and recorded it in hilarious detail. (And for the record, Mary Ann wasn't joking on the 'cockatoo 'description.)

*****

Did I tell you my business cards didn't arrive on time and I had to do the writing-my-name-on-a-bev-nap thing again? Yeah, that's professional. Also, I'm thinking it's becoming my trademark and I may just start doing that at every conference. (You've been warned.)

*****

I found the amazing, Kelby Carr, at one of the parties and instead of a huge hug and a 'I'VE MISSED YOU SOOOO MUCH' like I had been anticipating, I got this response:

What's she saying, you ask? "I'm going to kick your ass if you don't come to my conference in Asheville." I kid you not people. If something happens to me...well, you know what I'm saying.

*****

One of my 'beeshes' in Room 704 had been promising one hell of a party complete with swag bags full of unmentionables that belonged only in one's night stand.

I, came home with applesauce.

But honestly, with the hangover I was sporting the next day, I called it a win.

*****

Stay tuned and I'll fill you in on the juicy details of the party at Poppy Buxom's roof-top condo. Don't worry, there will be pictures...(No, I wouldn't be jealous either.)

So You Think You Can Dance, Dorkfish?

Lately, I've been working on my fat ass girly figure since I can no longer blame the extra twenty twenty pounds I've been carrying around as 'baby weight'. The 'baby' is over three years old.

Ahem.

So I tried on a pair of pants this morning that I've been hoarding in my closet for a few months (years) and I modeled them for two of my neighbors who insisted not only did the fit well, they made my butt look "AH Mazing!" (Exact words there, people.) They did add that a nice 'flowing shirt' would 'soften the waistline' which I think means 'hide your muffin top'.

When Steve got home, I squeezed slid back into them to show him my minor achievement. His reaction? A sly smirk and then, "Those neighbors aren't your friends."

But don't worry, I played dumb when he insisted that our gas bill was low because I had turned off the AC most of the month. I suggested he call my father (Mr. HVAC) for clarification.

Touche, Mr. Dorkfish.

Weekly Lessons LEARNED

1. When your grandmother comes to visit and is offering up little parental advice gems such as 'if you don't dry his hair, he's going to wake up with a cold after sleeping under that ceiling fan' and you choose to ignore them...the child will, in fact, have a fever the next day.

2. That fever? It's going to last for DAYS AND DAYS just so she can remind you every. single. day.

3. The purchase of a url* (www.raisingoutdoordogs.com) does not guarantee one is going to be smart enough to set it up on their own. However, having good support and wonderful friends who still like you even when you repeatedly say 'bad words' in front of their child, are truly priceless. (VDog, I owe you one next week!)

4. No matter how many times you attempt to explain to your grandmother that your not playing on the computer but are actually working on something (see number 3); she will insist you are avoiding your children on purpose.

5. Avoiding one's children on purpose is wrong.

6. If you choose to avoid your children on purpose, things happen:


7. Toothpaste will remove sharpie from hardwood floors.

8. Sunscreen will remove sharpie from skin.

9. Tears will remove sunscreen from eyes.

10. Your son will blame you for the burning pain in his eyes and when it all subsides and you tell him that it wasn't actually your fault his eyes hurt since you were just trying to help and that he should apologize, he will respond, "Momma, I'm sorry you had to hurt my eyes."

11. That makes you an ass.



*****
P.S. My blog's new url is www.raisingoutdoordogs.com. Please change your reader and tell your friends! ;)

He's going to be the death of me.

Me: "Bonus! Come put your pajamas on right now!"

Bonus: "Momma, I can't! I'm limping."

Me: "That's not limping, your dragging your foot."

Bonus: "Oh. Then how do you limp?"

*****

Bonus: "That boy who's daddy owns the brewery? He told me he didn't care about my daddy."

Me: "Really? That seems like an odd thing to say."

Bonus: "Yeah, but it's okay. I threw him in the dirt for it."

Me: "Dude! You can't throw some kid down for saying he doesn't care about your daddy!"

Bonus: "But daddy said I could."

Me:

Dorkfish: "I told him if anyone talked bad about his daddy to hit them."

Best part of this story? The kid he knocked down? HE'S MY NEW BOSS'S SON.

Nice...

Weekly Winners - Beach Edition

Little Diggers

Big Digger

Sandy Nose

Sandy Toes

Washed Ashore

Washed.....up ;)

*Now go get lost at Lotus's place and check out the other weekly winners! (Don't forget to tell her who sent you. Heh.)