Happy Birthday, Topherboy!

Dear Toph,

Two years ago, I was holding a brand new baby boy.  Today, I watched as you and your daddy played pretend Lego salesmen.  You acted your part and offered to sell me some brand new Legos.

Two years ago, I held a tiny squalling baby on the couch.  Today, I held a still two year old who just wanted "to get comfy," as you say when you want to cuddle.

Two years ago, I breastfed a little bitty baby.  Today, I watched as my two year old shoved pizza and blueberries in his mouth and washed it down with milk (from a cow).

Two years ago, I woke up all hours of the night to quiet a crying newborn.  Tonight, I will kiss you on the cheek and won't hear from you again until 6am.

Two years ago, I would read to a placid newborn, just wanting to hear his mama's voice.  Today, I read to a two year old who has many of his books memorized

Two years ago, I would sing to placate you.  Today, you sang your ABCs to me and I thought the clouds were parting.
Two years ago, I would shake a rattle in my newborn's face.  Today, I watched as you slam dunked a basketball.

Two years and a day ago, I thought I knew what miracles were but I wasn't sure if any real ones had occurred for me.  Today, I am living my miracle.  You are it.

You will never know the difference you have made in my world, my son.  These past two years have been so very precious.  You are my treasure.


Happy birthday, my son.  I love you without end.
Love
mama

An Open Letter to my Plantar Fascitis

On my one month anniversary with plantar fascitis, I thought it best to write a letter to it.

The tape I wear all the time.
Toph gets jealous so we got him some.

Dear Plantar Fascitis in my right foot,

Hi there. I hope this finds you well, and by well I mean to say that I hope the tendons you're inflaming are about healed.

I'll never forget the night you came into my life. I ran three miles at the gym on Monday, February 13. I felt great. I came home and a couple hours later...my foot felt funny. It hurt. I thought I was having a muscle spasm and ate a banana. You probably laughed, all snuggled up in the tendons of my foot. By the time I went to bed, I was limping.

When I woke in the morning, I could barely walk. I had to miss work. I whiled my day away icing my foot and rolling around on a computer chair.  The doctor took an x-ray and said, "Yep, plantar fascitis.  Nothing to do for it but wait."

I was diagnosed and told not to run for two weeks. I listened. You're still here. I was told to ice my foot and wear supportive shoes. I have. You're still here.  I've sought Airrosti treatment, worn tape and done exercises.  You're still here.

I am getting tired of the elliptical machine at the gym and yesterday, I saw that the basketball court was free of sweaty men for the first time in ages. I took my chance.

I dribbled, I shot lay ups, I practiced my free throws and I even did the Mican drill for two minutes, for old times' sake. Swish, swish, swish, swish. I was in my element. I had so much fun. Being embedded in my body, you are surely privy to the fact that basketball is my sport. I LOVE to play it.

Then, towards the end of my fun time, you flared up with a fury. I had to go home early. And Plantar Fascitis, let me tell you:

I am pissed off at you now.

Before I was trying to be patient but now that you've managed to send the message that basketball is not okay, I want you GONE.

I don't like limping after my son.  I don't like stepping gingerly out of bed.  I don't like not running.  I don't like being aware of every single step I am taking because walking hurts.  I don't like only wearing my running shoes because they're the only thing that doesn't set you off.

I'm tired of you, Plantar Fascitis.  Please get out.

Your hostess,
gin

I'm linking up with Shell today for PYHO.  I want to congratulate her on two years with an awesome linky party.  It's a rarity that one might have such a long running linky on their blog but hers is pure gold.  It's a place where we can be honest and truly pour our hearts out.  Thanks Shell and congratulations!!

10 Reasons I LOVE Being a Girl (or Woman, if you will)

Happy International Women's Week! I didn't even know that this existed until Stasha talked about it on her Listicles post. We can list anything having to do with women, so I thought I would list:

10 Things I LOVE about Being a Girl (or Woman but I feel wierd calling myself that, I don't know why)

Me at my girliest; our wedding day.

1. Shoes.
Once I told my husband that I felt bad for him that his shoe choices were so limited. After all, I have 30 pairs, he has 3. He told me not to feel bad, that the only thing that bothers him is that I leave those 30 pairs on the floor.

2. Makeup.
I'll be honest, I love eyeliner and mascara and eyelash curlers. However, I also love the option of not wearing those things.

3. Being a mom.
I think being a mom is such a great thing about womanhood. I LOVE being a mom. Only women can be moms and I think it's an awesome part of life.

4. Crying.
When the occasion strikes, I will cry or get weepy. Matt just shakes his head but I know on the inside he's jealous that Grey's Anatomy doesn't make him cry every single time we watch it.

5. Dresses.
I love a good dress you guys. Long, short, doesn't matter. I like a nice breeze down there and think men would actually enjoy it too.

6. Lotions and smelling good.
I love a good moisturizer and I love different perfumes. Matt has to borrow my lotion for dry skin and he only has one kind of cologne (it is a winner though).

7. Fun hair.
I love dying my hair and cutting it and styling it differently. Do I style it every day? No, but when the mood strikes it's quite nice.

8. Accessorizing.
Necklaces, earrings, belts, scarves, bracelets...I love them all!

9. Girlfriends
I love hanging out with my girlfriends.  Each time we get together we do such girly things...chat forever at a restaurants, get manicures, go shopping.  I so enjoy my girlfriends.

10. Power of choice.
The thing is, I sound like a girly girl after this post, and on some days I am. Some days, I'm not. The great thing about women today is that we can choose to be the person we want to be, instead of having society dictate it for us.

10 Things I am Rubbish At

This is my first evah Listicles post! My interest in Stasha's Listicles link up has been piqued and I am so excited to share with you ten things I am not good at. And please, if you haven't visited her blog, please do so. I am a total fan of hers.


1. Filming with my phone.

2. Pretending to not be scared of ducks as I film my child feeding them.

3. Cooking bacon. It always turns out too crispy.

4.  Volleyball.  Never got the hang of that sport.  I'm the girl that ran into the net and busted my face open.

5.  Reading "I'll Love You Forever." I never make it through that book without crying.

6. Turning the lights off. Our house is a shining beacon when I am home.

7. Hanging my towels up. I'm like Joey Tribbiani like that.

Via

8. Keeping lip gloss freshly applied. Once it comes off after the first application, it's gone for the day.

9.  Painting the toenails on my right foot.  My right leg always gets in the way.

10. Saying no to chocolate.  What? You have chocolate?  Yes, I'll have some.  And when I say some, I mean all of it.

Go link up HERE!

Do I Hover? (PYHO)

I recently learned the term "helicopter mom." A coworker explained the term to me and I remained on the fence about whether or not I am one. I mean, my kid isn't even two, right? Surely some hovering is required at this stage of life. In fact, a lot of hovering. (Hopefully, right?)

Fast forward to Saturday, when we went to a neighborhood backyard party. There was music, a trampoline and a huge play place, complete with slide, rock wall and see saw.

It was kid heaven and Toph immediately wanted to play. He was the youngest kid there and I didn't feel right about just turning him loose. So, I stayed with him. I guided him up the ladders, I caught him at the end of the slide, I hoisted him up on the trampoline.

At one point, I looked around and found I was the only parent not visiting. I was the only parent at the play place. I was the only one keeping a careful eye on her kid.

At the time, I kind of got worried, thinking that they would think my son is "chiflado" (spoiled) and that I didn't trust the play equipment. I was worried about their opinion of me, like maybe I was using Toph as an excuse not to socialize. At one point I did yearn to go and visit, to work the crowd, but the thought of my kid falling off the play place had a sort of magnetic pull on me.

So, I stayed. We played. I watched. He had fun. Maybe I hovered. I don't care.

What do think? Am I displaying characteristics of a helicopter in the making?

Linking up here:

How to Tell if Your Child is the Next Big Thing in Modern Art

We're all looking to make a buck off our kid. Today, I share a checklist of characteristics on how to tell if your child is the next modern art sensation.

Does he take off all his clothes to perfect his craft?

Check.

Does he use unconventional methods to transfer the paint to canvas?

Check.

Does he pace the canvas back and forth?

Check.

Is he unafraid of getting dirty?

Check.

Does he have precious feet?

Check.

Is he unhindered by things like staying on the canvas?

Check.

Does he use a lot of paint?

Check.

Does he look over his work with a yawn of satisfaction, knowing that this piece will be the next masterpiece featured at the Met?

Check.

If you answered yes to seven out of the eight questions above, you just might have the next big thing to hit the modern art scene.

The Post in Which I Dork Out on Everyone

Sometimes, I come across pins on Pinterest that are so eerily me that I absolutely have to repin them.  Here are a few of those gems to share with you today:

Source: someecards.com via Ginny on Pinterest

This one is funny because my sister and I have had brilliant conversations about fictional characters.  Honestly, one of my feet is always in another fictional realm, so this pin makes perfect sense to me.  Thanks Mollye for always talking to me about the important things, like whether or not we too would have shot Cato in the head.

Source: Uploaded by user via Ginny on Pinterest

I LOVE reading work with British authors and with British characters.  I'll read aloud to myself from time to time in a British accent.  My students happen to love my British accent.

Source: imgfave.com via Ginny on Pinterest

Once again, because one of my feet is always in one of these places.  However, I would NEVER leave the Shire and am still waiting on my Hogwarts acceptance letter.

Source: tumblr.com via Ginny on Pinterest

This is true.  In my heart of hearts, I know I would've been one of the ones that stepped off the platform too early and been blown to smithereens.  The bad thing is, I feel like Hunger Games isn't completely impossible.

Source: zumbawithteresa.blogspot.com via Ginny on Pinterest

Yep.  I tried Zumba with my son and he did much better than me.  I honestly didn't even feel like the girl on the left.  I felt every bit like a crazy person dancing in a sanitorium.

Source: cheezburger.com via Ginny on Pinterest

This was me back last April.  Two thousand, five hundred, fifteen pins later I'm still going strong.

What pin describes you?  Comment me the link; I want to see it!