So, I just ran downstairs to the basement to switch out the laundry and when my feet hit the bottom stair I saw a large black thing on the wall. Yep. It was a big black spider. One with really long legs. I instantly began sweating; my heart started racing. I stood there. Frozen. Until I remembered where we keep the Home Defense Bug Spray. Up on the top stair. So I turn around to
calmly walk up the stairs jump three stairs at a time to grab it when I notice, perched on the wall right behind that dang bug spray is....a spider? Nope.
Centipede. At this point I let out a small, yet effective, scream.
I was thinking to myself: "aaaaahhhhhhhh! You're kidding me! aaaaahhhhhh!!! Grab it, Sarah! Grab the bug spray! Grab it, grab it, just grab it!! Grab it and run into the kitchen!" Yes. It takes a lot of self pep talking to get me to grow a pair and get close to horribly disgusting bug.
I did it. (I'm proud too). And of course, right after I got a hold of the poison that stood between me and those stupid bugs,
it started moving as fast as they do. And that spider that started it all? He had been making his way up the wall the whole time. So I let out another tiny scream. Tiny because my family is sleeping, you see and I didn't want to wake them up.
With bug killer tightly in my grip, I began spraying the crap out of every where! But alas, both repulsive creatures scurried to their hiding places before I could kill them. I finished up switching out the laundry and like a total idiot, started another load, which forces me back down there at least one more time tonight. Good thinking, Sarah.
So I sit here typing. And I'm still all freaked out about it that every time my hair brushes across my back, or I feel "something" on my arm, or maybe a hair falls down my shirt, I look like I'm playing a game of Slap Jack with my body.
This is not the point of my post. But it needed to be told, so I could move on. Here's the real reason.
In just a couple weeks my sweet Viggo baby is going to turn one, and I'm having a moment. I know all of us mama's say it, but how did this happen? I am not emotionally prepared for this to occur. The closer it gets, the harder it gets. I absolutely
love the way he is right now.
He is so stinking funny. Such a great eater and sleeper and snuggler. He
loves playing with Roman. He loves scrunching his nose, exposing his two large front teeth, and breathing really heavily, only because he knows I love it and laugh at every performance. His hair is so long in front I often go back and forth about trimming it. I don't want to because I know, even though it would be such a small amount, it would make him look just a little more grown up. He's an amazing climber. The kid can figure things out like nobody's business. He is so intelligent. He sweats like crazy. He prefers being outside (if only it would cool off a little, we could actually GO outside). He doesn't like not being included in whatever is going on. He and Jeff have an amazing relationship. Viggo is totally smitten with his Dada. I love watching the two of them together. Ornery. Boundary pusher. And he has selective hearing. I know it's selective because he will usually obey if it's not something he's determined to get into. Cupboard crawler. Blanket lover. He has a thing for textiles...the way they feel. I remember that even when he was just a few months old.
I swoon over his sweet little baby feet.
He loves to nurse still. And while we nurse, I'm usually kissing, tickling, smelling, & breathing in those heart melting, delicious baby feet. I love burying my nose in the crease of where his toes meet the rest of his foot. And as he wraps his toes around my nose, I take in a deep breathe of the most incredible baby smell. We also like to play 'peak-a-boo', shake our heads at each other, and sing while nursing. Oh, I wish he didn't have to grow up. But I'm clinging to the fact that he will only get awesome-er. I will only fall more in love with him.
I just don't want to forget how I feel right now. And I'm not good with adjectives. So...don't forget, brain.
