9/11

I've spent a lot of time reading and watching the news this week, reflecting on the 10 year anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks.

Like most Americans, I was profoundly impacted by the horrific destruction of the Twin Towers.

As a reporter, I spent most of those early hours and days feeling like two people - the normal person who was horrified by blazing buildings, terrified workers jumping from the top floors, soot covered New York residents and visitors who fled down the streets in panic as the buildings fell - but also, the journalist who buried those feelings and went on autopilot to cover the story.

A decade later, and I still have vivid memories of where I was that day, and how I spent the hours after...the tears I couldn't hold back when I saw crowds of people lining the streets, waving signs, flags, offering bottles of water and cheers of support to the exhausted rescue workers who kept trying valiantly to find survivors.

I think, in many ways, our country has changed for the worse since then. Yes, we are resilient. Yes, we have moved forward, yes, we have pressed on. But we are angrier, and more polarized. The tone of our debate, the nature of discourse is no longer respectful.

I find it all a bit sad and depressing.

And yet, this weekend, I've found reason to celebrate. The 10th anniversary of the terrorist attacks is omnipresent, like a fog that won't quite lift.

But my immediate, small, selfish and utterly self-centered little world has been centered on cupcakes and balloons and "So Big" and an utterly perfect, completely innocent, blonde-haired, blue eyed little boy who is celebrating his first birthday.

When I found out Scott was due on September 11, I hoped he would come earlier...or later...but not on his actual due date. I think my obstetrician felt the same way, because he "changed" my due date on all the medical charts to read September 12.

Ultimately, Scott was born on the 10th...but his entire birthday weekend celebration has taken place against the backdrop of the 9/11 anniversary.

And I realize now that that is okay...because he represents the future. Rebuilding. Hope.

I would like to think Scott will live his whole life without having to witness the kind of destruction and tragedy that was 9/ll, but I know its unlikely and naive of me to think he will be that lucky.

But for now, he's completely innocent and unspoiled. And as his mother, I am going to do my best to keep it that way for a long, long time.

Taming the crazy hair

I finally caved.

Today, after weeks of prodding, cajoling, and then finally, outright threats from my husband, I agreed to take Scott in for his first haircut.

I resisted the trimming of his beautiful blonde curly hair, even though I know his first birthday is tomorrow, and despite the fact he needs to look dapper in a tux next weekend for my cousin's wedding.

No...what finally drove me to the barber was one too many mornings when he woke up looking like this:

No amount of product can tame that 'do, by the way. Believe me, I tried.

So we made an excursion of it. Me, my mom, Jim's mom and Jim all trekked in to the nearby Cool Cuts for Kids this afternoon. Scott eyed the place with a bit of trepidation, but managed to put his initial qualms aside when he saw the cool yellow "car" barber chair. (The kid is obsessed with steering wheels.) And the fun singing Elmo video proved to be a good initial distraction as well.

But my Tank is smart -- and within seconds, he realized what was happening. Let's just say he was less than thrilled.

Turns out the smartest decision we made was bringing Daddy along. Every time Scott got anxious or nervous or edgy, he turned and sought out Jim. Daddy made faces that made him relax and giggle, and got him through his first haircut with relative ease (though I should mention that Scott maintained a death grip on the car steering wheel through the entire process.)

Not feeling this...where is Daddy?

Oh...THERE he is. Okay, I am okay.

I knew Scott had a LOT of hair, but I didn't realize how much it had grown until I saw the remnants on the floor. We had enough for a keepsake lock not only for me and Jim, but BOTH grandmas.

Let it be known: today is the day my Tank went from being a ragamuffin baby to a little man//mini-executive. Handsome, no?

The before photo...

I'm a handsome devil!

And yes, mommy cried. Again.

Scott's first year -- in pictures

What a difference a year makes!

Newborn Scott

October 10, 2010 - ONE MONTH OLD

November 10, 2010 - TWO MONTHS OLD

December 10, 2010 - THREE MONTHS OLD

January 10, 2011 - FOUR MONTHS OLD

February 10, 2011 - FIVE MONTHS OLD

March 10, 2011 - SIX MONTHS OLD

April 10, 2011 - SEVEN MONTHS OLD

May 10, 2011 - EIGHT MONTHS OLD

June 10, 2011 - NINE MONTHS OLD

July 10, 2011 - TEN MONTHS OLD

August 10, 2011 - ELEVEN MONTHS OLD

Whoo Hoo! TWELVE MONTHS OLD!! I made it (despite all mommy and daddy's "oopsies")!!!

Eleven Months Old!!!

Really?
How in the hell did that happen?

I am counting down to Scott's first birthday with a mixture of unbridled excitement and, yes...if I am honest, just a little bit of dread.

How is my baby so big already? He's talking nonstop (not that we can always understand him); he's learning to point and follows our lead when we point at something; he's trying to pull himself up without holding on to something and he loves making a mess at mealtime.

(Although, I could live without his new habit of constantly changing what he likes to eat. He'll enjoy it one week and then, a week later, reject what we thought was his a favorite food. (The one exception: soup. He will always eat that!!!)

Scott's oddly strong, he's growing like a weed, he is apparently loving being with the big kids in the toddler room at the daycare...and I think he looks like a little man.

I have an old friend in Fort Worth who once told me, "you will never know your capacity to love until you have a child."

On a purely logical level, what he said made sense, but I didn't really understand how true that statement was until I was blessed enough to have Scott enter my life.

He makes a bad day better, and puts a smile on my face whenever I see him, and I burst with pride over all of his accomplishments - great and small.

Happy 11 month birthday Tank!! Mommy and Daddy love you!!

This month's winning photo:

And a couple of my favorite outtakes:

Hello Dear Mr. Bear, I will lure you into my good graces with my soft touch and sweet whisperings.

Word. Two old pals, chillaxin and hanging out.

Step back, Mr. Bear. This photo shoot is all about me!!

Tapping into others' creativity

It would be untrue to say I just began thinking about Scott's first birthday.
I've been toying with ideas since he was six months old.

But now that Tank is a mere six weeks away from the big 1.0, I need to kick into high gear.

I've been on furlough all week, and while I haven't gotten nearly as much accomplished as I had hoped, I have made progress on The Scott Rough First Birthday Extravaganza.

I have a color scheme, I have a theme, I have invitations and a cake design. Yes, I am one of THOSE moms. The kind that goes waayy over the top for her kid's first birthday.

What I don't have is a creative bone in my body. At least not THAT kind. You know the artsy-fartsy, hand-makes cute little signs and cupcake toppers and decorations and pulls everything together in a jaw-dropping, awe-inspiring, "this is so adorable" kind of way.

Ok, so that Lego party is beyond ridiculously awesome. But you get my point. I didn't get that gene.

My sister has it, as evidenced by the first-birthday blowout she threw her daughter in January. (Nope, no sibling rivalry here...nothing to live up to at all, and yes, she made all that stuff herself.)

(As an aside: I am particularly fond of the way she tells off all the naysayers in her blog:)

"I admit it. I am one of "those" moms who went a teensy bit overboard for her daughter's first birthday. "She'll never remember it." "Is this party for her, or for you?" Blah blah blah. I say, this is the only first birthday party for my first child I will ever throw. So if I want to fly fresh monkey tail flowers in from Hawaii, I can. And all you naysayers can suck it."


Well put, Kristy.

So anyway, I have been in a bit of a quandry. How do you throw a fabulous birthday party for your kid when you aren't creative enough to do it on your own?

Fortunately, for all you non-creative-types like me, I am here to say it can be done.

I have Google, and as a reporter, I have gotten pretty darn good at research and become very immune to asking questions that give away the fact that I am clueless. It simply no longer bothers me if someone thinks I am an idiot. 'Explain it to me like I am a 2-year-old,' I often say.

My sister told me about this amazing site called Etsy.com. It's like ebay, but for Martha Stewart-y types. After much trolling, I found a fabulous woman who custom designed all of the "paper products" for Scott's first birthday party. I gave her the theme I wanted to work with, and she created invitations, thank you notes, a birthday banner, yard signs, food labels...all that cutesy fun stuff. And the best part? It was dirt cheap.

She sent everything over to me via email in PDF form.

Of course I had no idea what to do with what these crafts-y folks call "DIY printables" (Do it yourself printables), but after peppering her with questions, I discovered it was all quite easy really.

I simply took the PDFs she sent me, uploaded them on to Kinko's website, told them I wanted them printed in color and 110 lb cardstock, and voila! a few hours later, picked up instant invitations and other items.

Now granted, I am still going to have to do some serious work. The birthday banner, for example, is actually all the different letter components on different pages of cardstock that I need to cut out and string together (I am guessing using ribbon and a hole punch, but am not really sure).

And I need other decorations - balloons, maybe the pom pons my sister used, I don't know, really. Food, games, etc.

I do know I won't be able to do it on my own. But I also have no shame. I've got a mother with a party-planning business, (who has already sent me a slew of ideas for centerpieces and table decor) the aforementioned craft-genius sister, and a mother-in-law who is coming in early to help set up for this not-so-understated event.

Between the four of us, I am sure we will be able to pull it all together.

My husband, in the meantime, just rolls his eyes. But luckily for me, he's keeping his opinions (somewhat) to himself and indulging my lunacy.

Scott, meanwhile, appears totally oblivious. But I am sure he'll appreciate all my hard work on the big day.