Bouncing Back

James Charles scored for the first time during his soccer game on Saturday and I can’t get the image of it out of my mind.

All of a sudden I looked up and I saw him with the ball, fiercely kicking it across the field, his team and opponents behind him.  I could hear parents from our team cheering, Jason and I were jumping up and down and Audrey was shouting “Yay!” from my hip. Then he kicked the ball into the net. He was so excited knowing he scored. He ran off the field and gave everyone high fives.  Jason and I were so proud and got a little emotional. Our boy was really enjoying the game! (Of course, it happened when I wasn't recording or taking snapshots, so it's now just a cherished memory).

The moment meant so much to me because my family has been through a lot in the last couple of months.  Back in late August, I vowed here to start blogging a lot more and was truly serious about my plan.  But then life happened and I've needed time to process all that's come my way.

It was the first week in September.  Jason called me from work and told me we needed to talk. Urgency was in his voice. I knew something was wrong. “I’ve been laid off,” he told me. "Budget cuts".

Soccer Mama!!!

It's official: You can call me a soccer mom.

Making his silly face and enjoying his treat after his first practice

James Charles went to his first soccer practice last week. He was so cute, donned in a black and blue outfit to match his soccer ball.  (Daddy picked it out of course).  Jason got off work a little early so we could all head over to the field together for his first practice. We were so excited and couldn't wait to see our boy in action, especially since this is his first time in an organized sport. 

We wanted to make sure we weren't putting any undue pressure on him and told him that he was going to have fun running and playing while learning a new sport.  He seemed really into it...until we actually got to the field.

Looking a little unsure of this soccer thing

He met his coach as his future teammates were still streaming in. Parents were setting up their chairs getting nice and comfy. (Why hadn't I thought of that?) Then he started running away from the practice field.  Jason got him, then he got a little clingy to me.  By then, Jason and I were starting to get a little concerned. We started to wonder if putting him in soccer was a good idea after all--A slightly scary thought knowing that his uniform had just been ordered and his coach was counting on having an extra player.  But Jason talked to him, and he started warming up a few minutes later.

Bye Bye Summer, Hello Fall

It looks like it's finally over; the seemingly never-ending scorcher of a summer, I mean.  And I can't be happier to see it go.

Those of you who have endured this summer in North Texas know exactly what I mean. We've dealt with triple-digit heat temps for nearly two months straight. The hardest part was that James Charles and Audrey didn't get to play outside as much as they would have in past summers.  Which meant some days at home were a lot more stressful than I would like to admit.

So, I got a little creative.  One day we pulled out the movie "Polar Express" and watched it right into their naptime.  Looking at the train pass through the cold, pillowy snow had a calming effect on us. Snow seemed sooo nice at the time. The scene where they were drinking hot chocolate wasn't as enticing as it was when it was actually cold outside. It was just too toasty to be thinking about hot chocolate. I prayed James Charles wouldn't get the nerve to ask for hot chocolate laced with marshmallows. He didn't. But he did get a kick out of cuddling on the couch with a light blanket pretending it was a winter afternoon while snacking on pretzels and gummy bears.  Audrey only cared about the snacks and bringing toys from her room to pile up in the living room.

10 Unsexy Things I Want For My Birthday

My birthday is next month and, like most moms, I look forward to a special dinner with my hubby sans the kids, a night out with my girlfriends, family celebrations, maybe even opening gifts.  Those things are grand, the spice of life.  But there are also some things that don't sound as exciting, but would make my heart sing.  Here's my list of:

 10 Unsexy Things I Want For My Birthday

1.  Having a professional come clean and organize my house from top to bottom
I'm sick of looking at my baseboards and seeing dust here and dust there.  I wish my shower was spotless.  When will my closet truly get organized? Too bad those things keep getting lower and lower on my priority list when I'm up to my eyeballs with loads of laundry and endless dishes, not to mention keeping my babies clean and getting food on the table.

2.  A guarantee to get to sleep past 8 a.m. at least once a week. 
Enough said.

I'm Back!

It's been a while since I've posted.  Nearly three months to be exact. I'm a little embarrassed about that, but August and September is a time for new beginnings. So here I am.  I plan to post a lot more from now on and stretch my blogger wings.

To be honest, I decided to take a break, first of all, because our old computer was starting to really frustrate me.  It seemed to always act up, especially when I was in a serious writing mode.  I would get excited about posting something and somehow whatever I wanted to do wouldn't work. It was so annoying I oftentimes just gave up and moved on, even after the computer "decided" it wanted to work again.  Then there were moments where I simply became overwhelmed with making myself blog.  I had to step away for a bit, rethink things and take some of the pressure off of myself. I realize I'm new to this and need to find my way, but it shouldn't feel like pulling teeth. I should be enjoying this journey, not over thinking it all. No one is making me blog!

I'm glad to report we finally got a new computer and it's much nicer to me than the old one.  We've passed the old one on to James Charles.  Of course it's working like never before. For the 3 year-old. Go figure. 

In the meantime, be on the lookout for new posts.  I'll be here.

Mavs Parade: Wish I Could Be There (Sort of, Not Really)

I've jumped on the bandwagon. Yes, I'm a fan of the Dallas Mavericks like never before.

My boy and I at a game circa 2008

I'm not usually a huge sports fan. But I found myself glued to the television Sunday night cheering for my home team.  There was something about the way they were playing, as if their desire to win was without question. They wanted it more. So I was ecstatic when they whipped up on the Miami Heat to go ahead and win the 2011 NBA Championship.

On Monday, the kids and I munched on our lunch as we watched die-hard Mavs fans welcome them back home at Dallas' Love Field Airport. I love watching live television news unfold as historical events happen. There's always so much energy. You could see the reporters trying to stay composed as they screamed into their mics, hoping their voices were louder than the crowds. People were sweating profusely, some getting really weak in the near triple-digit temps outside. Choppers were flying above showing every move of the Mavs as they touched their beloved fans through a wire fence.  Back at the television studios (I was flipping back and forth between WFAA 8 and FOX 4) there was talk of a victory parade coming up possibly by the end of the week.

That's when I knew I had to go to the parade.

Lessons Learned

If you know me, you know I'm passionate about breastfeeding. This is my first post for the "Carnival of Breastfeeding Readers" where I've joined other women bloggers in sharing our experiences as nursing mothers. I learned about this from one of my favorite blogs, Blacktating. The June theme is "The Second Time Around". Links to posts from more bloggers are at the end of this post.  Happy reading!

I have two wonderful children. My oldest who is now three, was nursed for eight months. His 14-month-old sister is still nursing with no clear end in sight.  The breastfeeding experiences of the pair couldn’t be anymore different, except that I was determined to breastfeed both.

I remember the first time I held my son, James Charles. I remember the warmth of his 19 1/2 inch body in my arms moments before he was whisked away to be weighed and inspected. I’d planned to put him to my breast right after his birth, but I’d forgotten to take my shirt off during the intensity of my labor.