Chips and Salsa? Deeeeeeeeeelicious!

Peanut -

Yay!  A wonderful, funny, happy memory came flooding back to me while having dinner tonight at Vallarta - our (your) favorite mexican restaurant.  Vallarta is where we went to dinner with you at least twice per week...maybe even more often after Dadda and I discovered how much you loved their refried beans and rice!  It's also where we hosted your fantastic Elmo-themed 1st birthday party.  Everyone who works there just adored you, and I can see on their faces how much they miss you.  Every time Dadda and I show up, just the two of us, they struggle asking, "Table for two"?  It was the three of us for so long.

Tonight there was a family sitting near us who had a little blonde-haired girl...maybe 2-years old?  She was in a high chair happily munching away on plain chips until she discovered the salsa.  After a quick taste-test (and a delighted squeal), she proceeded to carefully dip each and every chip in the salsa, then gently guided the salsa drenched chips into her mouth.  Never once getting her girly dress dirty!

At that moment I remembered your total love of the chips and salsa.  We never even had to show you how to do it.  You simply watched me and Dadda eating/dipping chips in the salsa and before we knew it you grabbed a chip, reached across the table to dip it in the salsa, then it went straight into your mouth.  Deeeeeeeeeeelicious!  No mess, no drama.  Smart Peanut.

What a wonderful, unexpected memory.  Pure delight for Momma.  Peanut, Peanut, Peanut...I love you so very much, and am extremely thankful for the happy memories.  They bring smiles when we need them the most.  Like tonight.  My amazing little boy, I love you - to the moon and back!

- Momma

Yay, Fireworks!

Nutter Butter -

This holiday has been a painful reminder of how much I miss you, and the wonderful, special moments we spent in our far too short time with you.  Taking you to the July 4th parade last year was sooo much fun, and it has given me many happy memories.  But, those same memories made it impossible for Momma to attend the parade this year.  We planned to go.  Woke up, ate breakfast, got showered, then Momma had a total meltdown.  It was just...too much.

As I told Dadda later in the morning, I "power through" most days with my mask on.  I smile.  I concentrate on work.  I try to live another life.  I compartmentalize.  But, on the days when the mask refuses to stay on, when the tiny surface cracks become canyons, I just have to give in.  Today was one of those days.  My heart and my brain need these days.  To fully, totally and completely miss you.  Mourn you.  Cry for you.  Cry for us.  Cry for what we have lost.  Because, as we face the 6-month milestone of your loss, it has become so painfully real.  If I live the long life I'm expected to live, I will have to face those years without you.  Not just one month or six months.  More like 50 or 60 YEARS.  It's too much to comprehend.

So, as I listen to the fireworks outside and watch all the coverage on TV, my heart hangs on to one of my all-time favorite pictures of you.  It's from last 4th of July.  You are playing in your ExerSaucer with a giant smile on your face and your hands in full clap-mode.  This picture captures the essence of you.  Playing joyfully with Grandpa in the midst of their neighborhood holiday celebrations.  The 4th of July holiday will always bring this image, this Peanut smile, to my mind and heart.

Ohhhhh Peanut.  I am missing you tremendously.  Loving you tremendously.  And rubbing my tummy to let Chickpea and Lima Bean know that while I am very, very sad, I also love them tremendously.

Peanut, as Dadda said this morning, we know you're up in heaven leading the parades and enjoying the fireworks.  So, have fun but also know your Momma is here on earth sending you good-night kisses.  To the moon and back!

- Momma

Slumber Party Smiles

Peanut -

Last year - July 4, 2010 - you had a sleepover night at Grandma and Grandpa's house while Momma and Dadda went to see John Legend at Fair St. Louis.  We dropped you off after the annual Webster Parade, and told my parents we'd be back the next morning and to call if they needed ANYTHING.  We were worried because you were cutting a lot of new teeth but also knew you guys would have tons of fun.  In Grandma and Grandpa's world, you hung the moon, stars and sun.

Sure enough, when we came to get you the next day, I wasn't sure you wanted to come back with us!  It was clear you guys had played and laughed and had a fantastic time.  But, we got you packed up and home for an afternoon swim and snack which made everything better!  A few hours later, Grandpa e-mailed me a bunch of your slumber party photos full of Peanut smiles and joy.  I cherish these photos.  They are unposed, taken in candid moments of peak-a-boo, bouncing and clapping.  When I look at them I can feel your joy.  Your sunshine.

Peanut, I'm missing you with all my heart...every second, every moment.  I desperately wish I could relive just one more day, one more afternoon, one more moment, with you.  In the absence of that possibility I rely on your photos and videos like oxygen.  I pray for Peanut-dreams tonight, and send you all my love, sweet boy.  To the moon and back.

- Momma

Electronic Footprints

Peanut -

Momma went shopping for some maternity clothes today.  You know, because I gave everything away after we had you.  Why keep it all?  We had our perfect little boy.  No more kids because we had Peanut.  But...then we lost you.  Now, here it is mid-summer, expecting twins and I have nothing that will zip or button.

So, I went in to one of the stores I frequented when I was pregnant with you.  Picked up a few items, tried them on, and got up to the register to pay.  When the sales associated asked for my phone number, I gave it to her without thinking.  She looked at my information, flashed me a big smile and said, "I see you've shopped with us before!  How old is your baby now?"

I hesitated.  Should I answer as if you, Peanut, were still here?  Tell her "the story?"  Hmmm...I almost simply said, "Oh, he's 22 months."  But that felt wrong.  Unfair to you, 'Nut.  So, I took a deep breath and told her, "My little boy, Connor, was 16.5 months when he passed away.  He's one of the main forces behind the twins I'm now expecting."

While she looked a little stunned, she gracefully said, "That is amazing.  Wow.  I'm sorry...and, congratulations."

And, I was instantly glad I chose to tell her the truth.

The Power of the Peanut.

I love you Nutbrown Hare.  To the moon and back!

- Momma

Holiday Weekend

Peanut -

It's funny how after you have kids every holiday seems like a "family" holiday.  Before you, Peanut, the 4th of July was a holiday that revolved around fireworks, pool time, concerts, and cocktails.  But then you came along.  And this weekend became all about family time.  Neighborhood parades.  Family BBQs.  Sparklers in the front yard.  And a bonus extra day at home with The Peanut.

I can't help but think about how different this weekend would be if you were here with us.  I didn't anticipate this would be one of those hard holidays...not like I was able to anticipate and prepare for Mother's Day.  Or, my birthday.  This one snuck up on me.

But, I don't want to "opt out" of this holiday.  I want to be surround by kids and families enjoying the parades and festivities.  I want to celebrate that many of our friends got to meet YOU last year when we took you to one of those annual parades.  I want to honor the fact that you are still here watching us, protecting the babies, and not wanting us to opt out of life. 

Peanuckle, I love you so very much.  I'm missing you a lot tonight.  So, I send a Momma good-night kiss to heaven, and tell you through my tears, "I love you, 'Nut, to the moon and back a million times over."

- Momma