Tag Archives: Writing

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And to All A Happy New Year

I hope everyone enjoyed whatever holiday they did or did not celebrate last week. It’s not my place to judge, nor is yours. My family enjoyed a fun-filled and very Merry Christmas. While I sat and complained about wrapping up presents for a 3-month-old baby, and spent several hours of my life wrapping presents and baking cookies, I couldn’t help but to think “why do we go through all of this”. Does it really matter how well I wrapped that present? In about 3 seconds it’s all torn off, and you see the 10 minutes you sat wrapping it go down the pooper. It seems like a waste of a valuable resource: time. Oh… and trees.

I think it’s a standard that we sit around, consciously or otherwise, and reminisce on the year we’ve had. So, I’ve decided to compiled my own personal year in review in my life. And I’ve decided to share it with my lovely readers.

1) Georgie Porgie, Puddin’ and Pie: Kissed the girls and made them cry. Well he hasn’t kissed any girls but he’s definitely made me tear up a little. Last year at Christmastime, I was able to announce to everyone in my family (I do include my awesome In-Laws when I say “family”) that there was going to be a little LaRochelle joining the world. At 2 weeks late, on the notorious day of September 11th, my baby son was born into this world. This is by far the biggest moment of happiness this year for me.

2) The Sparkling Jewel: Also this year 2 weeks prior to my little Porgie’s birth, a niece was welcomed into my family. She decided she wanted Porgie’s due date. Porgie, in the fashion of his father decided to sleep in. If a birth of a baby is always a blessing, what are two in the same family?

3) My Other Baby: My oldest son is having a fine year himself. He’s found himself put on student council by his teachers, adored by his advisors. My son also aced the English portion of his MCAS, and was found to be reading at a high school level. Not bad for a 4th grader. He also had his dream come true when Mommy finally told him he was going to be a big brother. He also got his first cell phone, and is growing into a fine young man. Did I mention he tested as reading at a high school level? /Pride

4) My Other, Other Baby: I took the plunge, and decided to publish my first short story. Even selling what I did was a proud accomplishment for me (to order your e-book for $0.99, click the link that says “Buy My Works”. You don’t need a Kindle, just the app on your phone or computer.) The worst is behind me now, because if I can publish one and not be too terrified anymore, I can do more. And I will.

5) And the winner is….: I’ve never voted before. Ever. I even watched other people as they did it, so I didn’t look like the “newb”. I survived the long lines, I survived the process without mocking it too much accidentally out loud. I voted, and while I’ll never tell who I marked off for president, I will gladly admit I went with Brown for Senator. I hope to vote again for him in the special election. The downside of voting? I’m competitive and I want my person to win. I think of it like a sports game. It’d probably be a lot more interesting if it were like the “Game of Thrones”. Finish the quote: “In the game of thrones, you __ __ or __ __”. Maybe the who process would be different then….?

It was a great year. Incredible, even. It was refreshing to have such a great year. In fact, I call onto fate or whatever controls destiny or whatever, and ask for a repeat. Not a repeat of having a kid, I’m not quite ready for that pain again anytime soon. (In fact, I’m still at the point where I cringe looking at him and remembering.) I hope that everyone has a great new year. The best part about starting a new year is the “fresh” start. You can change anything, and have incentive to do it by pretending last year didn’t happen, if that is what you wish. Don’t make a resolution you can’t keep though, it’s never good to start the new year with a broken promise.

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Don’t Ask

I dread moments when people ask questions. I enjoy to keep my secrets, and I think we’re all entitled to that. When I was pregnant, I showed people ultrasound pictures, but I’d never post them for a public realm of people to see. I feel like that’s a secret that my family and I should share, not my family and I and an odd assortment of people who follow me on social media. It wasn’t until my husband really begged, did I even show a slight picture of my baby bump. I felt that anymore more would invade a privacy I like to keep. When the baby is born and everyone can see it, I feel that you no longer have that “only I can see and feel you” overprotective vibe. That, and I really enjoy my privacy.  The great thing about this blog is I can share what information I want, and nothing can be stolen from me otherwise.

Now that let’s people as questions. It wasn’t until my first son was born that I realized that women are touchy and you need to watch what you say. When they ask “how was the birth?” and I tell them it was quick to the point and I didn’t need medicine, they get jealous. And they aren’t happy with me. I’ve memorized this look, it’s the same look I now give people who are toothpicks after giving birth. It’s that look that says “well aren’t you special”. They also give this look when they ask how your child is and what milestones he’s accomplished. When I respond “for the past month, he sleeps 8-10 hours at night and can roll both ways and he inches forward on tummy time”, I get asked how old and then I also get that look. Don’t ask the question if you’re going to get angry at the answer. It’s probably why I never ask questions, that and I generally don’t like being nosy. If people want to share information, fine. I’m not going to go around asking.

It’s scary though, last night my son decided he wants to sleep on his stomach. After a few futile attempts to correct this, I nervously watched over him a while. He’s been moving around his crib for a while now, and a few weeks ago decided he liked sleeping on his side. Now I see him on his stomach after repeatedly putting him on his back, I can only hear his pediatrician saying “remember, back to sleep”. I remember, but maybe you could let my son know because he didn’t seem to get that memo. I learned watching him that I could be a little at peace. He would lift his head and switch sides, and demonstrated great head control for a little 3 month old peanut. I’ll still worry though, but I’m not entirely sure what I can do. He’s becoming an age where I can no longer control these sort of actions.

Next time you ask a question and don’t like the answer, think of why you didn’t like the answer. Did you hope the other person’s child was not as advanced as your little one and you wanted to brag? Did your labor go poorly and hoped that they had a more painful story so you could feel better about yourself? Everyone is different, and every baby hits milestones differently. Babies and births are not competitions, they are miracles to be enjoyed and adored.

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The Dogs and Me

I often admit here that I lack any sort of normal social abilities. I don’t know how to properly connect with people, and I certainly don’t understand how to properly converse with others. My friends are exceptions to this, because they often also share this lack of ability to behave “properly” on some level. Though I’ve known several people who’ve died, I only cried once at a funeral. I’ve always associated this with the fact I lack a sense of connection. People probably will judge me on this, or for being so blunt about it. Even on TV, I have a hard time getting upset over a death of a character. I get mad, but I quickly get over it. I sometimes think that I develop more connections with fictional characters than real ones, but even still I accept this as life.

Soon after having my son, I realized I couldn’t stand seeing a child killed on TV. I couldn’t look, even if it was implied. I don’t recall having this cringe effect prior, but afterwards I just couldn’t deal with it. Kill the adults, but leave the kids out of this. Their innocence, I just couldn’t accept that at all. I could sit through the goriest murder scene in movies if it involves an adult, but the minute a baby died on a House episode, I had to leave the room. At least that made me feel a little more human realizing I’m not a complete emotionless shell.

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Princess Zoey loves Christmas.

Last night though, I had trouble sleeping and watched TV. When I couldn’t sleep at night while pregnant, I remember every time they showed an infomercial for The Humane Society I would cry hysterically over them. I had pregnancy hormones to blame, but there was something about those shivering dogs that pulled at my ice-cold little heart. Only the cute ones though, I’m ashamed to admit. Back to the point, last night I saw an episode of “Sister Wives” where they actually showed the father digging a hole in anticipation of putting his dog to sleep. Then they showed the dog on a blanket in the yard, while you see the vet filling a needle with what was obviously the medicine to put this dog to sleep. Then they made you watch as they pet and hugged the dog as it fell asleep. Then they showed the family burying the dog. I found it offensively graphic. I found it inappropriate to air on TV. Why would you want to have cameras tape a heartbreaking moment as putting your dog to sleep? I couldn’t deal with it.

Dog boy Tank

Dog boy Tank

After that, I immediate whispered little Zoey’s name and called her on the bed. She climbed up and cuddled with me, and I practically fell asleep next to her. Watching that had the same effect as watching a kid on TV get hurt. I wanted to hug her and pretend she was an immortal little puppy dog, my little princess Mal-shi. Tank, while not exactly as small as Zoey, is a lovable cuddly oaf of a small dog. He thinks he’s smaller than he is, and acts like our little baby of the house.

I love my puppy sized dogs. Don’t worry, we don’t put clothes on them every day, but for silly pictures to make people either hate us or go “awwww.” I wonder if I love them more than I love most people. I probably do. Dogs are loyal, always around to love you, and keep you entertained. I don’t like cats, they don’t quite love you in the same selfless way. Will a cat claw someone who tries to hurt me or my family? Nope. Will a cat cuddle up next to my baby son and pretend that he is the baby in their litter and try to shower it with love? Nope. Plus, the advantage of having dogs over human friends is they don’t talk. They bark incessantly, they jump all over the place as if they are children. But in a way, they are my children. My furry little immortal puppy sized dogs.

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That’s So Random

The first note to start of my unorganized random thoughts edition of today’s blog, I’d like to point out that I enjoy shamelessly promoting my first venture into sucking it up and publishing a story. You should enjoy buying it too, and for only $0.99 you didn’t really lose more than the equivalent of what change falls out of your pocket weekly without you knowing. Enjoy!

My first random thought brings me to the school shooting. I didn’t want to read the list of names of the victims. It’s not that I didn’t want the event to be humanized to me, as what the real intent of releasing those names to the public. It’s partly because it seems to me like it should be private, that these people should be allowed to mourn without having it all over the internet that their kid died. The reminder of those Christmas presents under the tree should be bad enough, they shouldn’t have to see the names everywhere they look. Plus, the selfish part of me admits I didn’t want to look and see my son’s name on that list because that would make it more real, and I didn’t think I could handle it. Against my better judgement I did look, and I did see my son’s name. I read the little note about him, I saw the picture. From then on, I realized more and more that could’ve easily been my son’s school and that could’ve been my son. It wasn’t though, and you can’t help but to feel guilty by being extremely happy for that. Sending him off to school made me be a little nervous, but unfortunately you can only do so much to protect your children, even if you are there every second.

My second random thought also is bordering about the shooting. I can’t help but be happy that Anonymous decided to hack into the Westboro Church member list and make it public to us. I won’t feel guilty if one of those bigoted loud mouths gets hunted down and killed, and I know I shouldn’t say things like that aloud but I mean I can’t be the only one who thinks that. It’s bad enough they go to our soldier’s funerals to protest for no other reason than to make themselves relevant, to protest these innocent children makes me wish that they had to go through the pain. Maybe it isn’t that God hates gay people, maybe God hates intolerance.

The Patriots were terrible last night and I fell asleep at halftime again. Apparently they became less terrible but not quite good enough to make up for all the terrible. The refs are terrible too, but I won’t blame them for the loss. The terrible calls by the refs didn’t make up for all the bad the Patriots did to themselves. I still love my team though, and they’ll do better next week.

My baby is growing up, rolling around on the floor like a champ and lunging forward. He’s a strong little bugger, and it’s hard to keep him down. It’s both awesome and sad to watch them grow so quickly. I love every second, and know that he’s doing so well because he has the love and care of people around him. There are worse things than growing up too fast. He’s very well mannered and just as perfect as his brother. So far (knock on wood), I’m 2 for 2 in the angelic children category.

In the end, you can’t protect your kids or shelter them forever. They are eventually going to find themselves in a position that is scary, they are eventually going to hear things on the news and they are eventually going to ask questions or be told things at school that go against our beliefs. You just have to make sure that you did your best to prepare them mentally for anything that they might come across on the news or in life. That’s our jobs as parents, to protect and prepare.

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An Unique Occassion

Today I am doing two things I never do: make a post about a tragedy and write a post on Saturday. I don’t like to join sensationalized media and don’t want to be viewed as making a profit/a name for myself by piggy backing off a huge tragedy. I also think you guys get sick of me on my normal 3 days, so why should I make you suffer a 4th? But the joy of writing is I do whatever I want, when I want for the sole reason of just expressing something to get it off my mind. If I start a meaningful conversation about a topic, then that just means maybe I did something right. In any case, this post is made more for my sanity to say something that I need to say more than to make a social commentary.

This isn’t going to be about the poor innocent kids that died yesterday. They deserve a lot more respect than they are being given. We don’t need to see a grade schooler commenting on what happened; she needs to be with her family grieving. At some point, journalists forgot they were supposed to report correct and honest unbiased and unagenda-ed news and were there to offer some level of integrity that us lowly people should aspire to. Instead, they spout of repeatedly inaccurate information that differs between every person who views any news. On minute this guy is a suspect, a villain and then it turns out “whoops, we were wrong guys”. The news was more concerned with trying to be the first to report things than giving the people who want to know and understand what’s going on actual facts. Was the shooter a child of a teacher? Maybe. The only thing they seemed to get right were those heart wrenching death tolls. I’m not only mourning those kids, but the hard fact that the people reporting the news don’t really seem to care anymore. But, they were first.

Then, there is gun control. During a tragedy is probably the last time you want talk about this. I care more about what happened and think there’s a level of disrespect to run a commentary on gun control while we’re trying to swallow this news. Give it a day, journalists, at least. The sad truth is gun control wouldn’t help in this case, he stole them. Should there be a psych evaluation and a waiting period on people who want guns? Absolutely I agree. Do I think this would help? Probably not, the sad truth is if someone wants to get a hold on guns to kill a ton of people, they’ll figure out a way. Then who’s to say that’d even help? People can Google how to make a bomb, if they want a mass of people dead they can figure it out.

It’s sickening to me. We need to worry about looking at our kids, thankful they are here with us. We need to look at this tragedy and view is as nothing more than that. Sure, we want to know what’s going on but I’d rather have 100% accurate facts the day after, then be confused for the day it happened. I enjoy hearing both sides of gun control, but I’d enjoy it more if the advocates waited a few days to mention it as to not make martyrs out of these kids for their own agenda.

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My Face Was Red With Anger and Awe…

… while I wrote out the check.

Several years ago, my son seemed to have a cold that just wasn’t going away. After what seemed like the 3rd week of a bad cold, I took him to the doctors. It turned out that my son just from lack of contact with many kids prior, just didn’t quite have the immunities so every cold he came into contact with, he got. While there, the doctor noticed my kindergartener had a tissue stuck up his nose. At the time, I had awful insurance with a $600 premium and a $4000 deductible because for some ungodly reason I didn’t qualify for cheaper insurance. (Thanks Romneycare.) The politics isn’t the point, the point happens here.

The doctor was our new doctor, so it was only our 3rd visit with him. This doctor took a pair of tweezers and pulled the tissue out of his nose. Easy and done, right? I thought so until when I got the bill for the visit, I had to pay $700: $100 for the visit and $600 for “object removal”. I called my insurance company, and since we were so healthy we didn’t need our deductible I had to pay for object removal. When I told her the object that was removed, she laughed with a “tough poop” attitude. (I don’t miss you Blue Cross, but I do love you Tufts.) I immediately decided to call the doctor’s office billing center to reason with this. She laughed when I told her my story, and when I thought I was going to get sympathy I get that “so would you like a payment plan?” No, I’d like you not to charge me $600 to pull a tissue out of my kid’s nose.

I forgot that story for a while. Then I got a bill from a Pathology department shortly after my return from the hospital for the items that come out after your birth. (Seriously, I thought they threw that out, not send it out for testing that costs $200.) It came back to me how much in awe I am for some things we end up getting charged with and for how much. This became even more apparent when I received a bill in the mail over the weekend from the doctor’s office. My newborn son had one rare condition that will hopefully be easily fixed in a few months by surgery. He had another rare-ish condition called “umbilical granuloma”, which is a fancy way of saying “part of the umbilical cord is still there and needs to be removed”. The doctor said all we needed was some nitrate and it’d heal right up. He took a q-tip looking thing and put it on my son’s belly button. It did exactly what he said and all was mostly fine. Then, I get my son’s first bill of all neonatal services done and I just quickly looked saying “$144 isn’t bad.” It wasn’t until I read the bill to write out the check when I noticed all the hospital services were free. That $144 was for a q-tip. I looked up in anger and said to my husband “that doctor has expensive supplies. A $600 set of tweezers and a $144 q-tip!”

This made me wonder if the real issue with healthcare wasn’t the cost of the insurance itself. Maybe the problem is really with the doctors and hospitals and the ridiculous prices on necessary services. I cringe to think of the monetary issues with the surgery as well as the “holy crap, my baby needs surgery”. I think the problem is the medical offices are allowed to charge whatever they want on things and there’s nothing as a patient or a consumer that you can do about it, which I guess is a problem with the insurance too. They choose what they cover and what they don’t, and don’t see a problem with these costs because everybody wins. Right? By everyone, I obviously mean the heads of these hospitals and insurance companies, because the everyday person that needs these services are definitely not the winners here.

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From Typewriters to iPads?

In a conversation with my dear friend, we realized how crazy different things are now than when we were in school. Her son started Kindergarten this year, while my son is a seasoned 4th grader. The conversation started when my husband came home, embarrassed that this intern that is following him around at work “basically” called him old. (Take note: my husband is 27.) He drove by someplace and pointed out that there was a game store in this plaza that doesn’t exist anymore and he reminisced about his game genie. While I smiled remembering the game genie, he pointed out that this intern didn’t know what it was and he had to explain it to him. Then, the intern made a look like my husband was old and my husband carried that embarrassment home with it.

After he left, we started talking about our kids at school. She mentioned this interactive white board that the schools have now. Last year they didn’t have them, but this year I remembered playing with the one in my son’s class during open house. Then I mentioned that my son’s school has an iPad for the kids, and she said “my son’s does too”. We sighed for a moment, how could we not? Admittedly, these schools have nice fancy things to teach our kids with now. Then we felt old.

When I was in grade school, we had one computer each classroom from 3rd grade and up. The computers were nothing, and we played Oregon Trail on it. In middle school, we had to take typing… on a typewriter with this jerk of a teacher. My friend, who went to middle school with me, laughed pointing out how we had to do “Space Space X Space” etc. to make pictures print out. Yes, we used typewriters to make boring designs on papers. Now, our kids have iPads.

Times have changed, and technology will always get better. Unfortunately, we’re at an age now where we can say “I remember when  _______” and we feel incredibly old doing so. I bet my husband’s intern doesn’t know that “Jan died of dysentery”. But we can sit there and laugh and remember repeating that for days after playing a level of Oregon Trail. Our kids wouldn’t know what to do with a typewriter if they saw one, and just look at it wondering why there was no monitor. It isn’t a bad thing, technology advancing gives us more tools to have successful and longer/healthier lives. I don’t care how old these changes make me feel, you can keep them coming. Except iPads, Apple fan boys really need to learn that there are better stuff out there. Every other technology can carry on though.

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My Name is Brianne, and I’m an Ephebiphobic.

Made you Google that word, didn’t I? Even if you didn’t, I’m going to pretend that you did to make myself smile that I was able to cause my readers to something. The word itself isn’t entirely correct for this purpose; my  issue doesn’t simply lie with children that are teenagers. I simply have an issue with kids. I’m not ashamed to admit this fact: I have a problem with kids, they make me feel uneasy.

I love my sons, and this doesn’t apply to them. My own spawns are immune to this general feeling I have. I understand them, I know what to do with them. I’m more comfortable around them. I excel at mothering them. Throw another kid in the mix? I have no clue at all, and it makes me anxious. I don’t know what to do with these little people running around my house, screaming and hitting each other. My instinct is to threaten to throw poopy diapers at their head, because it’s not painful and very hilarious. (Seriously, imagine a bratty kid covered in poop. Try not to laugh.) Would I throw one at my kid? No way. Would I throw one at my nephews for being annoying? Definitely, or at least they know well enough not to find out.

I wonder if it has to do with the fact that people are most comfortable with their own kids. Or something more. I remember when my first niece and nephew was born. I never had an urge to hold them or coo over them. Though, I don’t coo over my children either. I speak to them as I would an adult, minus the inappropriate things that come out of my mouth. Babies are stinky balls of poop and drool, and the 14-year-old me wanted nothing to do with all that. I don’t think I ever really wanted kids until I had my first son. Then I realized I liked my kid, just had a problem with other kids that weren’t mine. I go to birthday parties for kids a lot now, and a friend laughed at me as a bunch ran by yelling and throwing torn paper napkins at one another and I muttered “I hate kids”. There might be truth there, I definitely hate annoying kids.

Maybe I just don’t feel comfortable around other kids, related or not. I don’t know  how to relate to them, nor do I get a giddy desire to play with them. I smile at the cute ones, I can smile at them. Ask my friends how many times I’ve asked to hold their babies, I don’t recall ever doing that. I’m good with kids, I’m great with them. I wonder if that makes me weird, that feeling of disconnect with other children. It’s not to say that I don’t love the little ones in my family, I just admire them from afar. It’s one thing to drop your own child on his head; you drop another person’s kid you suddenly become the devil.

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I Won the Lottery?!!! And My Daughter Was Kidnapped?!!

If it sounds too good, it probably is. I might be a skeptic but I use this as a general rule of life. Nothing is free, you need to be skeptical of people you choose as your partners or friends, and if they ask for your credit card, they’ll probably steal the information. Scammers are becoming more careful and sneaky, going after a specific base. Unless I share a bank account with that person, I don’t share my information with them. My husband is screwed though, I pay all his bills and access his money whenever I want. Luckily, I just use it to pay the bills. You see my point though, I hope.

My main idea here is there are scams galore just waiting to get you. These scammers are going after more specific targets now as well, mostly against our older generations. Studies show that this “distrustful” instinct we have deteriorates with age, causing older people to fall easier victims to these scams. We all have to watch out though. I do have a few scams of note to watch out for, because why bother having readers if you don’t pass on information of worth to them. I know, I don’t often have words of wisdom or much substance, but today you’re in for a real treat!

My kid has been kidnapped?!! People in my local area (not exclusive to my state I’m sure) have received phone calls that their child has been kidnapped and they need to Western Union money ASAP. Luckily some people had their children kidnapped in the future, as they didn’t presently have kids. There is also one along the same lines that tells you that someone you know has been injured and needs your money to help. Luckily again, the scammers happened to tell someone their brother was injured, only they were an only child. They tried to tell her it was her father instead, and she decided to call and check in. He was fine. She immediately informed the police.

I WON?!! I REALLY WON?!! This one probably goes without saying, and I might be accused of racism for saying it but I’ll take my chances. If someone calls you and tells you that you won a very large some of money, but you can’t understand a word they are saying, it’s very definitely likely that this is a scam. Especially with the advantages of caller ID, I’m going to assume that if you won something in your state lottery that your own state would be calling you. This example comes from my family. A very thick accented man calls and says “You won 2.5 million dollars and a car. We bring you car and check.” We obviously knew this was a scam, but we proceeded to get as much information as they can. They told us our names were the Voorhis, and we lived on Collins Rd. in Wilbraham. None of this is true, and the “General Manager” stuttered as we hung up. (Interestingly, the only part they had right was the zip code for Wilbraham.)

If you get a call that doesn’t seem right, get as much information from the caller that you can and call the local police department. It’ll be useful to them to know another scam is out there to alert other people in the area. It’ll be your good service for the day. I’m sure if something seems fishy, they’ll be willing to let you know if that’s a scam they’ve heard of already too. Con artists are always trying to figure out a way to weasel money out of you, so be cynical and be on alert.

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And He Laughed… and Squealed. And It Was Perfect.

You spend 40 weeks with this monster growing inside of you. You’re happy, but the time you spend with your head over the toilet or dreading the numbers on the scale makes you wonder why you got yourself into this mess. All the planning in the world doesn’t help you at that moment. All you can do is sit and imagine the little person’s first smile or laugh and dream of its personality and you hope that reminds you of why you’re doing this.

Pregnancy isn’t for control freaks. You can’t control anything really, and you’ll lie to yourself if you think you can. Those people who freak out in the delivery room because they lose control should’ve done one thing to prepare: let go of the idea you can control everything. The minute you do that, it does get a lot easier. Do you go “I can’t wait to get induced and have extremely painful contractions that are worse than natural labor” when you find out you’re pregnant? Do you think “Hey, let’s just cut me open right now and get this sucker out because his heartbeat kept dipping”? I doubt either of these things were ever said. The reality is when you’re there in that moment, anything can happen and you need to prepare mentally for the fact that whatever happens you had no control over.

My midwife said that I did the best thing I could for myself when I when in for my induction. I studied enough about what was going to happen to not get freaked out but to be fully prepared mentally. I went into the hospital with the expectation that everything I didn’t want to happen was going to happen and I was going to get a c-section and a healthy baby. I was mentally prepared that I had no control over any outcome, but was mentally ready for the worst case. I was elated that my mental scenario didn’t happen.

It doesn’t end there, control freaks. You think that once that kid is born you regain control. Excuse me a moment, I just laughed a little. You can’t control a baby, it controls you. You might believe parenting books when they say “you just lay them down and they’ll know it’s bedtime”. The fact is sometimes you lay them down and they squeal with delight for playtime. They say “schedule feedings”, but I wonder if they actually had a kid. You can’t control when they eat or how much they eat when they do. You can’t control how many diapers they use in a week and you definitely can’t control when they wake up at night. Just know that this lack of control should help you know in life, you just can’t control everything. At least letting go of this control is worth it with the glowing smile and the high-pitched squealy laugh your little one shows off to let you know he loves you too.