at first sight...

My Guys...

The first time I saw Oliver, I thought..."He looks like his Daddy." Then he started peeing everywhere. Just like his daddy...
He is so fun. Like really fun. He loves to "dance" on my stomach. I laugh so hard that it hurts. I think he likes that most. Just us, laughing and rolling around together. Oh my goodness. I have to tell this...The other day, I was reading my e-mail and I hear Oliver come into the office. I continue reading, waiting for his request. (some milk I am sure...) He says nothing. I can see him out of the corner of my eye just standing there. I look over at him. He has a very concerned look on his face. He is standing very still in his dinosaur pajamas holding a granola bar in one hand. He then stretches his other hand out to me. His hand appears to be covered in chewed up granola bar. For a minute my mind races. Did he gag himself and vomit? What happened? Then, upon further inspection, I notice a corn kernel (yes...a corn kernel!) stuck to his hand also. I then began to gross out and laugh hysterically at the same time. This child has jammed his little grubby hand down his poopy diaper and smooshed it all over his hand! I am in awe of the situation. Apparently, he had grown tired of the poop fest and was ready to be cleaned up. I get out the video camera (because that is what mommies do!) to document this for his father...I then ask him, "Do you want me to change your diaper?" To which he replies, "O-tay" How can you not love that?!

The first time I saw Liam, I said "Hi..." To this day, if I say hi to that boy, he lights up the room with a huge open mouthed grin. I couldn't believe how fast the labor and delivery went. 5 and 1/2 hours of labor and 6 minutes of pushing. When I first found out that we were expecting Liam, I was scared. Really scared. Oliver was only 6 months old. This was crazy! How would we manage? I can't love another baby! I was so dead wrong. I can't imagine my life without this little guy in it. God sure knew how much joy Liam would bring to me. We have a different bond than Oliver and I do. I can't explain it really. It is not better or worse. Just different. I felt a ton of guilt for not being ecstatic when I found out that I was pregnant. I didn't want him to feel that. The amount of kisses that I give to "hambone" (as I call him) is probably more than ought to be allowed. I was just upstairs playing with him and tickling him...the sound of his laugh sends excitement through my veins. I seriously get all pumped up when he laughs. Or smiles for that matter. I am still nursing baby Liam. I don't really want to quit yet. I know all the mom's that harass ya about being too clingy and not letting your baby grow up...but I figure I will when the time is right. And that isn't just yet. I am going to relish these baby days. They will be gone quick.

The first time I saw Justin, he was in a picture in Gabriella Beaver's locker (his girlfriend). I was a junior in high school and he was a senior. I knew the minute that I saw that picture, that he would be mine. He had to be. I will never forget someone tapping on my bedroom window late one night. It was Justin. He had broken up with Gabriella at the gas station where she worked with his brother. She smacked him. She knew it was me. Oh well. We have been together ever since. Our first kiss was on his fold out couch/bed. I kissed him on the forehead. I used to sing Adam Sandler's song "Red Hooded Sweatshirt" to him. "I love you sweatshirt...dipdipdip sweatshirt...shamalamadingdong, sweatshirt..." One day we were driving on Brady Street and our song came on the radio. He stopped the car and opened my door. We danced right there in the street. We went to ISU together. I practically lived in his dorm with him and Micheal Stepp. Okay I did live with him. We used to play Nintendo 64 all of the time. He would bring me HotPockets to the YMCA where I worked. He proposed to me in our favorite apartment. I was in my studio, covered in charcoal and chalk pastels. I had 2 big french doors to my studio. I looked up and there he was, dressed in a tie. It was like 11:00pm on a weekday. He came in and got down on one knee. We were both crying. My life would be so empty without him. On our wedding day, we were waiting after the ceremony to come back into the church to greet everyone. He apologizes for not giving me a very big kiss. Then admits "I forgot to brush my teeth..." He makes the memories worth remembering. When we wrestle he is notorious for holding my wrists. Leaving me defenseless. So I retaliate by kicking him with the heel of my foot causing what we refer to as a "frog" in his leg. We call each other bearnaby and say "lubs" instead of love. ilubsuwisallubit... We kind of have our own language. He knows me. Every inch, all of the crazy and boring stuff about me. He loves me. I am intoxicated by him. There is not a more noble, charming, handsome, intelligent, and funny man out there. Of that I am sure.