Home On The Range

This past weekend Clement and I took a quick trip to Kansas for the unfortunate reason of the death of my amazing Grandpa.  All Wednesday and Thursday I'd had anxiety about deciding whether to go back or not.  I'm not one to make decisions {I fiercely hate it actually}, and the thought of toting Clement to the airport plus a two hour drive in freezing temperatures to Garnett was giving me more anxiety.  Clement, God bless him, has not been the easiest baby and given our history with traveling with him, the idea of flying solo with him was enough to have me in a panic.  However, Thursday morning my brother-in-law called and asked me what days I wanted to arrive and leave and just like that, I had a ticket and I was committing to the challenge.  Clement screamed all the way to the airport on Friday afternoon and I cried, honestly thinking there was no way I could do this.  However, the little man was a dream on the flight.  Sleeping, eating and flirting.  And only a few 19 yr old male Marine graduates saw my boobs on the flight.  Here's the amazing thing about flying with a babe:  people are amazingly helpful and kind.  As I was waiting on my suitcase in Kansas City, trying to get the trash bag off CK's carseat all while wearing him and a giant backpack, a man came up to me and asked if he could get rid of the trashbag for me.  Then proceeded to tell me he'd been praying for me the whole time; he had three kids and knew how difficult this was.  I almost started crying again.
The timing of me coming back was perfectly aligned with a visit from a Texas dwelling college pal of mine.  Saturday morning {after a completely sleepless night} a chunk of college pals got to meet CK and I got to meet my childhood BFF's little girl.  It was glorious to be around close friends and laugh and just feel so comfortable and cozy.  I love my friends.  Eventually, CK and I headed to my hometown to be with family.  Let me tell you, it was so great to be around family and for them to meet the little man, but it is also SO. DIFFERENT.  I used to sit around and chat it up with my sister and brothers and aunts/grandma/uncles.  This trip it was constantly monitoring Clement, then attempting to sooth him as his overstimulated, exhausted self screamed his lungs out.  I hardly got to talk to my sister {her own three kids kept her busy as well} and the convos I usually have with my aunts just didn't happen.  I know this is part of life and I've watched it happen with my sister, but somehow it's still a huge adjustment.  Thank heavens for my parents who couldn't get enough of Clement.  They held him and oogled and loved all over him.  The moment of salvation was the last night, Clement had slept for 4 hours and had been awake from 4:30-7am and I was at my wits end.  My dad walked in the room as I was laying in bed coughing my lungs out {both CK and I have colds} just staring at my crying babe.  He simply picked him up and said, "Let's let mama get some sleep, huh?"  Best. Dad. Ever.
Needless to say, I basically missed mourning my grandpa.  It's like my life is so consumed with this little guy, nothing else seems to crack that bubble.  I did have a few moments of remembering how precious my grandpa was, but then CK would do something and revert my attention to him.  Again, weird, but natural, I guess.  This whole post makes Clement seem like a nightmare but I'll be the first to admit I'm becoming that mom that defends my child to the grave.  Even when Clement was at his absolute worst, I would defend him to people saying how tired he was or how overwhelmed he was - which honestly, HE WAS and my heart just broke for him - thrown out of his normal routine into this crazy, cold, new world full of people wanting to hold him and getting in his face, trying to make him smile.  I'd freak out too.  But he did ham it up quite a bit - smiling and 'oooooh'ing.
I was lucky enough to sneak away for a quick 3 miler in 30 degree temps and LOVED IT.  Something about the crisp air just makes me feel fast and alive.  The running views in Kansas are quite different from California, but there is beauty in the death of winter {if you look hard enough}.  The old barns on country roads have such a charm.  And I'll honestly say I was a little excited to pull out my pixie pants, puffer coat and beanies {but I was also very ready to put my cut-offs back on yesterday}.  For three days I missed real winter.  Something about being bundled up and cozy just feels homey.  Plus Clement finally got to wear his flannel lined jeans - and just in time since I could hardly get them on {he's all 'bout that bass, 'bout that bass}.  Sunday I took Clement on a 35 degree walk to try to get him to go to sleep.  The kid had never been bundled like that and could hardly move, but within minutes he was asleep.  Granted it was our shortest walk ever, but it was great to get that fresh, crisp air in our lungs.  I can't wait for him to get older and to really enjoy the charm of the country.  Little boys go crazy in that environment - dirt, tractors and cows galore.  It's going to be great - just wish he could have met my grandpa who would have shown him the ropes...

{Since having Clement I've really been struggling with using my real camera.  Somehow I never have hands or energy to whip it out - so if you want to follow along via iPhone on Instagram - there's plenty more pictures of our Kansas adventure!}













1 comment:

  1. Being a new mom is simply the most wonderful, yet overwhelming experience you will ever have. I remember when my daughter was about a month old and we traveled home for my cousin's wedding. I was feeling good, had a pretty new dress, and was excited about showing off my new baby as well as catching up with my cousins. At the wedding, my sweet little one was not in the best mood and then she had an explosive poop that went all over my new dress! I did not get to enjoy that celebration like I had envisioned. However, now - 13! Years later, it's a funny story to tell and reminds me of how that baby changed (and continues to change) my life in the best ways. The most perfect quote I ever heard about motherhood (which I have never found a source for) is: "With children, the days are long, but the years are short." I cannot begin to tell you how true that quote rings as I sit here, almost 42 years old, with my 13 and 7 year old "babies"! Enjoy every minute with your precious little one!

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