Every time I feel unfortunate...

In 185 days Logan will be three, a roundabout way of saying he is roughly thirty months old. Of that time he has only been home seventeen months. In these seventeen months I have had some wonderful and horrible thoughts. I am proud of some thing that have happened, and not of others. I have needed to replace three phones since he's been home:

1. I slipped on ice and my options were to let my right pocket (where I keep my phone) hit the frame of the truck, or slip and fall with Logan in my arms. Goodbye phone, hello bruise, and he will never hear that story - for all I know he'd feel guilty about something that he could not have helped.
2. I left my phone where Logan could get to it and he threw it causing it to come very nearly in half.
3. I was letting him play with my phone at the library. He dropped it and the speaker popped out. Only the speaker, otherwise it functions perfectly.

In this time we have acquired four car seats. but that is kind of natural, after all kids grow. Also, you need  backups for grandma's car.

I've wondered if it was a good time for us to have a child; I've hated the loss of freedoms, including the ability to work more hours and get more money; I've lamented my lack of sleep, until the stage where he slept through the night regularly. I have done many things I thought I might not do.

I lost a job because he was ill and I chose to be with him rather than at Walmart. It was especially painful because I felt at home there. I had friends whose company I enjoyed, especially at lunch. I had times when I was glad for a quiet lunch where it was best if I set an alarm, just in case. But in the end, I made the right choice, and Walmart only proved to show that they were awful: after being the cause of ruining my right hand, they tossed me for such a reason despite the fact that I was eligible for FMLA.

I spent the better part of a year doing nothing. While it was glorious at the time, thinking back it put a lot of strain on Amber. At the very least I could have done more to clean the house and, maybe, even return to school. In the end of the whole mess I got my CNA, the recession finally gave up the ghost, and I got two job offers: Home Depot, or working at a nursing home. I went for the CNA job. It's had it's ups and downs, but in the end I decided recently that I would remain there rather than take another job... until I complete my degree next semester. Muwahahahahaha.

Through all the good times and bad, when I am happy and when I am sad, when I feel unfortunate I think of the family I have made and the son I have been lucky enough to have. So, on June 2nd I will be done with college, and Logan will be three. I propose we have a party to celebrate.

It's almost been a year since we used this thing. I realize that it was cute and we tried to set up a theme for the way the blog looks, but it is so hard to look at. Not aesthetically displeasing, so much as... wow it is really white and packed with some extremely bright colors. Anyway, the reason why I came here:

Damn it sure is nice going to sleep knowing I will, at one point or another, be woken up by my son screaming and crying in his sleep. So glad he's learned how to have nightmares. I can only imagine what they are about.

God knows everything I have bad dreams about I can justify. I'll wake up and the woman I care about won't be dead, I won't have a tiny package, and there's no way the squirrels will get the better of me. But him? He's been chopped up and stitched back together 13 times, all while he was so tiny that even if he'd been conscious enough to come up with the idea of fighting back it would have been futile.

I just want to pick him up, but I know that if I do he'll be up until he falls back asleep again. So I guess I'll just sit there and not read. In the dark. Because that is better than the possibility of waking him up. And heck, who knows, maybe one day - when he is capable of speech - I'll hear something out of it that'll clue me in as to why he is having nightmares.

But the dreams when he babbles and laughs... they make it all worth it.