Total Eclipse

I have sequesterd myself from all things Eclipse. No commercials, no watching interviews or reading press with the cast.
Tonight I went to see the movie with my mother-in-law who is a new fan after reading my stack of four books in less than two weeks.
I am going to give it two enthusiastic thumbs up!!
Am I obsessed with the books. No. Did I enjoy them. Yes. Did I adore the character of Jacob long before he was the cute muscle man Taylor Lautner. Yes. Did I take flack for being teacm Jacob back then. Yes. Is it politically correct to be a Jacob fan now that he is hot. I would say judging by the super squeals and clapping from the moment he walked on the screen....yes!
I thought the squealing and whatnot as actually cute. Some sour pusses in the ladies room after the movie found the teeny boppers to be annoying. When they are thirty eight they will think it is cute that some girls are having fun.
And no, the teeny bopper squeals were not from myself and my mother-in-law!
Edward looked mighty fine in this movie. M-i-g-h-t-y F-i-n-e. And that cute Taylor has some great acting chops. He commands the screen when he is on it that is for sure!


Now onto other pressing matters.
Tonight my cute hubby called from the grocery store when in the middle of our conversation I randomly said ..."Okay, tell me what movie is this from........."do you hear that? it's the winds of change".
He got it!
It was not easy and while I had confidence in him I would not have blamed him if he was wrong.
But him getting it right just further confirmed that he is the one for me!! :)

TWO

Last night after we had put the kids to bed and cleaned up the remains of the family birthday party my husband looked at me and said "Can you believe our baby is two?"
No I couldnt.
As I tried to fall asleep my mind wandered back to two years ago.
After nine months of intense vomitting and depression I had finally given birth to my baby boy.
The puking was supposed to stop. The pain was supposed to stop. The depression was supposed to stop.
Try telling that to a big mess of placenta that is left in your uterus by a bunch of inept doctors from a joke of a medical clinic.
I tossed and turned replaying every awful moment of the month that followed.
The horrible ambulance rides.
The blood clots the size of the human liver.
The IV's and medications and people looking at me with blank confusion when I asked
what was wrong with me.
The ten days in the hospital with visits from my children and newborn baby whom I feared would not know me.
The hours of waiting for someone to figure out what was wrong with me.
The frustration of a husband who wanted his wife home.
The amazing help from friends who pitched in to help.
The nights of fear in the hospital as machines beeped and hummed all around me, wondering if I fell asleep would I start to bleed again and never wake up.
The blood transfusions, the weakness, the thoughts that my world had stopped but outside that window the rest of the world went on without me.
A diagnosis, sugery, a promise that things would be better now.
When I returned home I held my boy, let him sleep beside me, talked to him, sang to him. Tried to make up for the time we were apart despite my lack of energy.
More bleeding, returning to the hospital days later and being told nothing was better.
My girls thought I was going to die.
My husband thought I was going to die.
I thought I was going to die.
I have never cried more in my whole life.


Then I had to stop thinking about all of it. Erase it all from my mind before I started to drive myself crazy.
Because I am fine.
My boy is fine.
My boy is two!
He is funny and happy and wild and sweet. He loves Toy Story, and running and wrestling with his sisters and the new puppy. He is delicious and dramatic and tender all at the same time!
Happy birthday J-Boo.
We love you!