on splitting the difference.

did you know that you could buy a box spring that was split in two?

i actually did.  well, i knew that generally king sized box springs were actually two twin box springs, but i did not know of split queen box springs.

now i do.

one thing i alternately love and hate about our new house is that is a 1 1/2 story house, meaning that the upstairs is enclosed with the roof.  while this adds delightful character to the bedrooms (a plus), it also means that there are some tricky space issues that really impact our ability to move and arrange our furniture.  we've been sleeping in one of the downstairs bedrooms for the past almost two months as we slowly paint and ready the upstairs bedrooms. jack's room has been painted for a month now, but we just got around to attacking our bedroom.  there were intense color negotiations, and then the business of taping, priming, painting, but as of yesterday, our bedroom was calling out for furniture and happy owners to sleep contently in it.  after arriving home from work (yes, at 8:30 p.m.) i decided to start moving everything upstairs.  around 10 p.m. came the realization that our box spring was not getting up the damn stairs.

at first i thought john and my brothers were just joshing with me because they had only agreed to help during a break from watching game 7 of the stanley cup, and i figured they were looking to ditch their manly responsibilities.  i surveyed the scene and decided that, indeed, that box spring was not malleable and it was not getting up the damn stairs.  we had two alternatives.  remove some hallway ceiling plaster or admit defeat. neither was a great option.  i decided to move this pity party out to the backyard, where i took solace in staring at my flourishing garden from the comfort of our new adirondack chairs.  it was here that i lamented to anyone who would listen (jack, my sister and my brother's girlfriend) that i was ready to set the house ablaze. ok, i'm nothing if not a tad dramatic under stress.  or duress, as the case may be.

someone may have suggested moving the full size spare bed upstairs.  well, damnit, i wasn't going to settle for that option.  hell no.  i wanted my comfy queen bed upstairs, and i wanted to sleep in it tonight.  after a temper tantrum in which i totally pulled a carrie bradshaw style "whaaaaattttt are we goonnnnnnaaaa dooooo???" google informed my husband of the existence of split queen box springs.  husband gently passed along the information.

new dilemma. will a store sell a box spring sans mattress?  i totally wasn't intending to buy a new set right now, but it is what it is, and according to the book i'm currently reading (ahem, trying to internalize) good enough is the new perfect.  tomorrow i shall embark on an adventure of calling local mattress outlets to determine the answer to my query.  tonight, however, i will bask in the small victory of having convinced my husband that it was absolutely necessary to get that queen sized mattress up the stairs.

goodnight. gonna go sleep on my mattress on the floor.

my time.

the title of this post is somewhat ironic considering that i have been nothing if not amazed at the sheer lack of "me time" i've had since my little bean came into this world over seven months ago.  this post is not about the things i do in the few moments i have to myself every once in awhile.  it's not about how i think it's important to regularly steal a few minutes of uninterrupted time of my own every day (because truthfully, it doesn't happen on a daily basis).  in fact, this post is about making the most of the time i have with my baby boy. making the most of the time i have while he's mine.

yes, he'll always be my son.  and yes, he'll always call me mom.  and yes, no matter if he is seven months old or twenty-seven years old, i firmly believe that we'll have the sort of relationship that is born the moment you grasp the awesomeness of the concept that you are growing a living being inside you.  but, let's face it, he's only mine for such a short amount of time.  in the grand scheme of things, he'll be someone's husband and father for much longer than he'll be just mine, just my baby boy. and so, i must remember to drink in these days like the sweet nectar of summer's first freshly squeezed lemonade.  and in the midst of the busy and chaotic stream of events that i call my life, i remember this.  and i stop. and i squeeze that baby just a little tighter, spinning him around, his toothless grin spreading wide across his face, his tiny hands grabbing at my face, his little body pressed close against mine.  for now, he is all mine, and i love every minute of being with him.

last weekend, we embarked on a roadtrip to cincinnati to celebrate a weekend of love and happily ever after with family and friends.  i have to say i was more than a tad anxious about spending 20 hours roundtrip in the car with a baby, but off we went with a what-doesn't-kill-us-will-just-make-us-stronger can-do-it attitude and lots of baby gear in tow (speaking of which -- supreme shout out to my uppababy g lite umbrella stroller.  it's amazing and light and a fabulous travel companion... and jack just loves adventures under his umbrella ella ella ehhhhh stroller).

in the middle of this long journey, something happened. something wonderful. i managed to leave it all behind, live in the moment and have a truly remarkable mini-vacay. doesn't sound that remarkable, i know.  but it was great. i did not check my work e-mail or voicemail once on this trip. i didn't think about the burgeoning to-do list waiting for me on the right corner of my desk at work.  i did not allow myself to worry about the piles of unfolded laundry scattered about my basement. i made an active choice to forget all about deadlines and itineraries and schedules. and i decided, this is my new perfect.

 because what is life if not an opportunity for baby races complete with excited squeals and crescendo-ed cries?

a time for snuggles with wee ones, who always find the softest place to land?

bath time with the little ones (even if the littlest one also decides it's an appropriate time to go number two?!)

a time to revel in the magic and wonder written all over a child's face as he experiences something new?

this cincinnati trip provided all these opportunities and more. and on the way home, after my sweet little angel had stolen a few licks of mama's ice cream cone and fallen asleep peacefully under his favorite blankey, i stared out at the dark stretch of highway and somewhere between the middle of illinois and home, i made a new year's resolution in june. i will live every day the way i lived this vacation. i will take advantage of these opportunities for happiness, wonder and joy. i will treasure each moment of this short time that he's all mine. 

happy new year!