me.

WARNING: As you’ll soon find out, I don’t do short. This is everything…it’s long.

I have tried multiple times to start this entry and give you the low-down of the lady behind mrsLicky, but there’s only one thing I can hear in my thoughts. I’M A MOM! It is this, miraculous, all-encompassing thing that I have more pride in than everything in my life put together, and talking about anything else seems so trivial. But, I had to start somewhere to end up here, right? So let’s see…

I was born in the year that shares the title of George Orwell’s most famous classic novel (I always thought for this fact alone, I should read it, but it would surely be a pain-staking task since I have little to no interest in politics). I was the first born to a couple of high school sweethearts who’d married 3 years before my arrival. And a mere year and seven months after my birth, they gave me a sister. The four of us lived in Tonawanda, NY – a suburb of Buffalo (though my sister and I were both born in the much better NORTH Tonawanda – old rivalries die hard). We took up residence in a cute yellow house in the middle of suburbia – where trees, and kids, and ways to play were plentiful. Blissfully unaware of all things adult, and 7 years old, I barely saw it coming when my parents got divorced. I was more confused than upset at the time, but as life went on things got a little rockier. It was the re-marryings & movings that got to me, more than anything, and I spent most of my childhood being fairly rebellious.

When I made it to high school, I hit a social stage thanks to a few good friends. Instead of having good days and bad days, I started having good days and GREAT days. Aside from the fact that I wasn’t a cheerleader (due to my complete lack of grace and coordination) I was pretty much the picture of school spirit. My new circle of friends and resulting confidence landed me a little interest from the opposite sex. First came K, who was so unsure of his place in the world that he’d spend hours flirting with me, only to hide his interest from his cheerleader sister a minute later. Yeah, that crap actually happens in real life! Go figure. I spent summer nights rollerblading with him as our "dates", and he provided me with the standard, awkward first kiss. It should have been the picture of romance, considering it occured under a street light at night – but the brim of his hat made contact with my face before his lips did, which puts that moment under the, totally cliche teenage first kiss, file. Next came douchey-douche extraordinaire, who screwed things up for me in more ways (and more often) than I care to admit I let him, so moving on. When the next one came along, J, I thought my search was over. Donezo. Set for life. At least that’s what it felt like for the 2 years we’d spent inseparable, going to each other’s proms and graduations – even setting a tentative wedding date. I’d gotten completely washed up in the idea that I could have a bonafide high school sweetheart turned soul mate like my parents did (see how well that turned out), and ended up with my heart run through a meat grinder when he proved to be what he really was – a 20 year old boy. With oats to sew. I spent way too much time hung up on him and forming handfuls of rebound flings that went no where before I came to terms with the fact that it wasn’t really his fault – any boy his age would have done the same thing. It’s just who they are.

And good thing, because as the ol’ "everything happens for reason" mantra always proves to be right, it did just that – the REAL love of my life was just around the corner. Telling the story of how I met my husband seems dull these days, considering how many times I’ve told it – but mostly because, it doesn’t mean crap compared to the story of how we became US. They’re two entirely different things. So let’s pick up the story at the part where we’d already fallen in love. It didn’t take us long. And only 5 months after being together, we gathered up a couple thousand dollars and our clothes and moved to Charlotte, NC together. Matt (did I mention, that’s his name) had just graduated and was having trouble finding employment in his field in our hometown. So while he was searching for a new economy, I was searching for a change of pace. Boy did I get it. I learned three things very quickly. A) The grass is always greener, B) You don’t know what you’ve got til it’s gone (which doesn’t sound grammatically correct to me but I keep singing the song in my head & that’s how they say it)* and C) There is no one in the world other than Matt that I wanted to learn these (and many other) lessons with. You see, I homesick-ed my way into depression my first year in Charlotte. While I was torn between family and love, past and present, north and south – he was the most sympathetic, patient, unselfish person I could have possibly leaned on. He was all of those wonderful qualities, and many more, to the extent that he felt secure enough to let me move back home for a year to get my associates degree and figure things out. I think I had been back in my hometown for 5 hours before I realized it was a mistake. While I missed my friends and family every day I was in Charlotte – I broke my own heart when I moved away from Matt.

*this is such a ridiculous example of my many quirks that i’m leaving this tangent in – it would be so unlike me to erase it. more on that later.

So, obviously, if you’ve scanned my little left-hand menu, you can see I moved back. I did so only a few days after graduating. I came to terms with many things in my time back home, and came out of it engaged & more in love than ever. We found a house to call our own, almost on accident, and moved into it in April 2007. I spent that summer tying up wedding plans, and we got married on August 11, 2007. Married life has been a dream, and while I’m sure a contributing factor is that this life suits me, I know that it would not be as wonderful with anyone other than my Matt. He is the funniest, sweetest, most caring person I have ever known. He makes everything better. I like to say that he is my angel, because everything good in my life has originated with him. Not only has he given me love, but he helped me overcome many of my flaws (and continues to do so). It was because of him we kept Odin – once my foster kitty, now the white fuzzy furbaby of my dreams. And it was because of him (obviously) that I became a mom – which is my favorite role of all time.

We tried for 5 months before getting results. It was mother’s day 2008, and I was in extreme denial about the fact that I could be pregnant. Even though I was so tired I kept falling asleep, and one of my favorite lunches was making me sick to my stomach. Matt convinced me to at least buy a test, but even when I got home with it I refused to take it. I don’t know if I thought a few hours would make the difference between a positive and a negative, or if I was just happy being blissfully unaware. Finally Matt asked me to take it, and I agreed under

the condition that he would check the results. Well, we know how this story ends – with every hopeful mother’s dream. I spent quite some time not trusting this little line on a stick, but my baby definitely wanted me to know he was there. I endured 11 weeks of morning sickness before ballooning out to inhuman proportions while he kicked me as though he was practicing for the olympics. On January 15, 2009 at 8:49am, my dream finally came true, and I became a mom. My little man was a large little man, weighing in at 9lbs 5oz. While it was love at first sight, I fall in love with that little guy a little more every day. Motherhood is something that I think I could fill 20 novels with and I’ve only been doing it for 4 months! It is absolutely indescribable – more wonderful than words can explain. I am without a doubt, happier than I have EVER been!

I like to think that "Mom" is the only thing that needs to be said about me these days, but the truth is – I really am much more than that. Other than daydreaming about babies my whole life, the only other things I ever aspired to be was a teacher, and/or a writer. I messed up school during my heart-break fiasco, but did eventually get as far as earning my Associates degree. I never put it to use, though – not only do I not use it, but I haven’t pursued further education. I have a feeling that I will someday, though. For now I’m just happy being a mom, and I think if I’d spent years of hard work going after the Master’s required to teach, I would feel awfully guilty about all that debt to pay off when I just spend my days at home and my husband pays the bills. Writing? Eh. We have a weird relationship. I love it – I love the excitement of stringing words together and it’s something that I do in some form every single solitary day – and I have for most of my life. But honestly? I’m finding that I get more enjoyment from reading other people’s writings – enjoying them for what they are, and my side-love for the craft just enhances how I feel about everything I take in. Maybe someday – I never say never to any dream I’ve ever had, but right now it’s not for me.

I do LOVE a good book – as well as a good story (they are two different things!). You can usually find me with my nose in a book, or curled up watching a good movie. I just have this need to soak in as much as I possibly can. I’m also….very selectively empathetic – which I realize sounds like an oxymoron and…well, a weird pairing of words, but it’s the truth. It’s something I’m working on. What I mean by that is – I find myself wanting to help many causes, but only the ones I feel close to. That’s human, right? I have extreme soft spots for babies and animals. I would pretty much do anything for either. I’ve volunteered for both the March of Dimes & the SPCA in my time, and I have SUCH a drive to do it some more. I also have "the itch" to do my part for breast cancer, Buffalo’s struggling economy, the environment in general, people stuck in nearly impossible situations, educational shortcomings…the list goes on. I hate to say this, it’s one thing I don’t like about myself, but I don’t feel as though I’m operating at my full potential in order to help all of these causes right now. Being in Charlotte is something I’ve come to terms with – I’ve found a certain peace with it – but it is a HUGE inhibitor to everything I have to offer. Part of my life’s ambitions is to do something for all of these things (and more!), but….I think part of me is waiting until we live in the Buffalo area again. I don’t know why I feel so restricted like that….but I do feel as though it’s my duty to lend a hand. I just have this drive to do so – it’s been getting stronger and stronger the older I get, and it’s hit an all-time-high with becoming a mom. There is something about being a mom that makes you want to do so much good. And to eliminate as much negative from your life (and others!)as possible.

I also love a good creative outlet. Scrapbooking, sewing, photography, puzzles, crosswords – if it’s old-ladyish, I probably like it!  I don’t really buy into reincarnation, but sometimes I wonder if I have an old soul. (Side story, my mom went to a psychic once who told her I was also her daughter in her last life, and I witnessed her drowning on a cruise in Florida. So according to the world of the supernatural, I’ve at least lived once before).

I should probably mention, I’m incredibly quirky. Growing up it was suggested many times that I have OCD, and what little I have learned about it – I’d have to agree. I don’t wash my hands 100 times in a row or flip light switches 10 times before entering a room, but I do have a really bizarre sense of control. While some big things don’t bother me – the little ones can tear me up. Like, if Matt accidentally empties out Luke’s bottle thinking it was an old one – I don’t get over it for hours. I sit and obsess about how long it took to pump, how he didn’t get those last 2 ounces and he’s probably absolutely starving (I also exaggerate), how it was a complete and utter waste and some babies would die for just 2 ounces. Seriously. It will consume my thoughts for hours – and I’ll be fighting tears and clenching muscles the entire time. How ridiculous is that? I do it with everything. My little side note up there about grammar? Well, 2 things. A) I always feel the need to include my thoughts because I feel like if I don’t, people will think "wow she didn’t think of that, what an idiot". I have a weird thing with letting people know my thought processes. and B) I don’t always get it right, and I do make mistakes fairly often, but I am obsessed with grammar. I try so hard to get it right. And it makes my skin absolutely crawl when people use the wrong there/their/they’re, you’re/your, to/too, then/than, either/neither, or/nor….omgggg does it drive me insane. Or, when people mis-pronounce things in person, or use the wrong word. I try REALLY hard not to point it out because I learned early on it’s offensive (when you know, in my mind….the control aspect just thinks, well wouldn’t I want someone to tell me if I had it wrong so I could do it correctly?). But……I tend to compulsively correct people close to me – like my mom and matt. At least Luke will speak correctly? lol

Also, the words "quick" and "short" have no place in my vocabulary. No matter how hard I try, I always say more than I need to, I always spend the maximum amount of time doing something, and I’m always late to everywhere I go. I do say these words – but I guarantee they have a completely different meaning to me than they do to the rest of the world!

So, about being a Mom….(I can’t help but come back to this, I’m obsessed – it’s like, finally figuring out how to ride a bike and wanting to do nothing but ride your bike!)….I feel that being in the land of OD I should say a few things. I am not, by any means, a "mommy diary". I talk about my son constantly, yes. But I do not use this as an outlet to voice my opinions on parenting. In fact, lately I have tried to completely avoid talking about any of my parenting choices (as far as feeding, diapering, vaccinating, medicating, bathing ect ect). I don’t fit into any formal mommy labels. This is it – I am a good Mom. I love my son more than life, and I would do anything in the world for him. I feed him more than sufficiently, I change his diapers, I soothe him when he’s upset, I keep him clothed & clean, I do my best to ease his pain, and I take pride in making him happy. That is all that matters. HOW I chose to do those things doesn’t matter – and is nobody’s business but mine, and his father’s. I do not, and will not, buy into mommy drama. All you’ll find here is writings about his milestones and accomplishments, my enormous amounts of love for him, and extremely cute pictures. 😉

Lastly – I am not the world’s best ODer (or even close), nor am I the best ME just yet. I am still a work in progress. I don’t write as often as I should, and I rarely note (though I AM trying to work on that!). I am not perfect in anyway, but I do know what my standards are and I am working every day to be a better person. Not only for myself, but for my baby. I love making connections and finding out just HOW amazing life can be – how wonderful some people really are. I hope we can be friends and that you’ll share your stories with me!