Coal {of} mine

Since (almost) last I wrote here, there were just sonogram photos I thought I would share his announcement. 

His arrival has been oh so very exciting for oh so many reasons. It's been over 3 months. It feels like we've known him forever and yet I can't believe how fast these months have gone, even when it feels like it's going slow. If that makes any kind of sense.  

To follow (our web friendly*) birth announcement. The front side is fairly traditional in terms of what information is provided. 

Side note: Why the hat?  Short(ish)** story: when he was born and we announced his birth we weren't I wasn't 100% on the name. 

It went a little like this: 

I posted the first picture 4 hours after he was born. I had hoped we would come to a decision before we posted anything, but word on the street (texts) was that it had been leaked. The baby was born, that he was a he & how (very) much he weighed. It does sound of so very Kimye, doesn't it? I mean, sure, I don't take naked selfies and the ball & chain doesn't talk about himself in the third person - but there were people scooping us on our own son's birth before we were ready.  (In hindsight I probably could have used another celebrity couple. Cause now you are thinking, wait? Does she have a sex tape? Does he hate on Taylor Swift? And other terrible things about the couple I chose. But you know what I mean, right? I digress...)

Since it was on an instant message circuit I figured, I'll deal with the stress of not knowing (for sure) the name. I didn't want anyone to hear that he was born and we were still silent. If it were me? My mind would go to something possibly being wrong, and it hadn't.

Baby BOY G. He's here. And he means business. 11lbs. 10oz. 22 inches.
and no name other than "oh my god" & "he's HUGE!"

And when I finally got myself together, a day later:

Name official: Coleman Bennett > nickname: Coal. Or Moose.
Or "yes. I know how big he is." #whatsmymotherlovinname

The moose comment was strictly random. I threw it in: an animal, known for it's size to make fun of a situation that was stressful (you'll see a watered down version of why to follow). And it stuck. And it makes me smile. 

The back was a (very necessary) FAQ because holy hell were there questions asked frequently (edited for the world wide web). And because I know this might come up (surprisingly so): 

• No, we don't spell his name C-o-a-l.
• Yes, sometimes I do call him Coals. 
• No, not after the store either. 

A closer look of the back: 

Q: What took you so long to name him?

A: Coals was always "the" name. We had other name options: 6 for girls, 3 for boys.  I always feared without having options, the baby could be nameless if he or she didn't look like "the" name. You could announce the baby's birth but then not the name. And no one liked that! There would be phone calls asking, "when will we know the name???" Nurses coming in every few hours asking "And... who is this???" Messaging asking, "Do you know the name yet?" or "What about now?" or "What about now, do you know now?"  With both girls, we looked at them and knew.

When our doctor said "Oooh Bubba!" and we were officially shown our son we went into shock. A baby boy! My shock lasted longer than the ball&chain's and Bubba or Baby Boy Guarro was nameless. In addition to being shocked he was a boy, did he look like a Coals?  The ball&chain always knew he was our Coleman, but I wasn't sure.  He could have been a Coals or a Ben. He could have been a Jack, Gus, or Tony (insert a full day of revisiting 7-10 name books).  I finally caught up with the ball&chain and Coleman was officially named.

Q: Where did the name come from?

A: Coleman is my maiden name.  Bennett means blessed, and we are blessed to have Coals join us. His initials are CBG, the ball&chain's initials are CBG.  Elle's initials are Nana Lu's and JJ's initials are Poppa's (Guarro).

Q: Wait. Coleman? Isn't that a last name?

A: Yes. Last name for a first name, with the exception of the fact that Coleman is actually a first name.  We typically call him Coal vs. his full name. We'll reserve that for when he's in trouble, like everyone else.

Q: Did you know he would be this big? Did you break any hospital records?

A: No & not that we know of. We knew he was big, but no not this big. We were told by countless hospital staff, nurses and doctors it's the biggest baby they had seen all day / week / month / year or career - but no official word on record breaking. He broke our record, good enough for us.

Q: Can you believe it?

A: No, I don't believe it. It was certainly a déjà vu moment to be in yet another operating room and have the entire staff mouth or say "Oooh my G O D! He is HUGE!"  

Q: Was it a c-section?

A: What kind of question is that?  Yes.

Q: Were your other babies as big?

A: Yes & no. Elle was 10 lbs 14.8 oz and 22.25 inches. That's where the déjà vu of "Oh my GO D! She's HUGE!" comes in. JJ was 7 lbs 6 oz 20.25 inches.

Q: How are the girls?

A: Amazing, they love their little brother something fierce. Elle is so grateful to get her wish - a baby brother. JJ loves her baby, very much. Both are more loving than one heart can handle.

Q: How does it feel to be outnumbered?

A: Controlled chaos is still chaos. For example, family photos? We are going with majority rules to measure success. If most people are looking and almost smiling? It's printable.  We don't anticipate any peace, any time soon. But it's wonderful, all the same. A chaotic wonderful. We are happy, feel blessed & beyond lucky. With a health side of "what did we get ourselves into" & a deep appreciation for sleep.

*I updated some of the details / names / references it isn't the exact image word for word.

**Fine, it wasn't a short story & could have been shorter. 

My wish for my girls: find a partner.

As I type this, here is what my surrounds are like: 

• I'm in the living room watching TV that is inappropriate for children. CSI something or another. Blood, violence: not your Saturday morning cartoons. 
• The kids are screaming, crying and whining in the kitchen. 
• Their dad is taking care of it. Making breakfast, dealing with the aforementioned screaming, crying and whining. 
• I'm drinking coffee. Tuning it out, typing this. 

It's the weekend, and so starts our routine. We take turns waking up with the kids. I got up with the kids, this morning. We watched a movie & snuggled on the couch. As goes with our sleep patterns, since the ball & chain fell asleep a little after 9 - when he slept in to 9:30, he got more than an allotted and suggested 8 hours. Refreshed, he came down stairs and started making breakfast for the kids.

• He just came in and asked if I wanted a homemade pancake. 

We take turns in most areas. Though we have our roles and what we are good at - and we take the lead in those areas. He loves to cook, so dinner? He owns. I help clean up, but to be honest he is crazy about keeping the kitchen clean so he takes the lead. We typically take turns dealing with bath time. In the ways of balance, I make out in the dinner & bath routine. We use our powers (and obsessions) for good.

When it times to do a massive house clean, we take our areas. I'm the living room & dining room girl. He's the kitchen, bathroom & bedroom. He's obsessed. I don't fight it. Plus if I'm being honest, he doesn't clean the living room like his OCD kitchen cleaning self.

• He just came in, and delivered my pancake. Time out. 
• Time in. That was delicious. 

We are in the process of planning a vacation. He booked the main details (where, when, flights, hotels). I take care of the day to day plans. I worry about any organization to the lead up: packing, planning. I go over board: there are spreadsheets, outfit planning for the kids, supplies to acquire. I'm on it. Holidays? With the exception of a gift or two - I take the lead. I have lists, I shop sales, I work out shipping (when I don't forget), I get the deals - keep us under budget - which we don't actually have. But I keep us reasonable.

When the kids wake up at night, whoever wakes up first usually takes them in. It's typically him, mostly because he's a light sleeper. When we have babies, if I'm on maternity leave - I get them. With the exception of the weekend. Then, we take turns. Most times he insists on going for it. And never, not once, does he keep score.

Never, not once, will he bring up that he's washing dishes right now. He's likely going to take one or both of the kids to the gym with him at some point, this morning. To leave me in silence. I might clean up. I might not, I might continue to watch TV. It's hard to say.

I will end up brushing L's hair 9 times out of 10 over him. Because while no matter who does it - it's painful- it doesn't get me as frustrated as it does him.  Never, not once, will I care the snarl mayhem falls on me.

I deal with doctors appointments, school stuff, activities - in terms of sign up. The games or practices? He's in.  Something breaks, falls, needs to be hung - all me.

We need to move, and this happens often. I'm the details girl: coordinating, planning, tracking, planning (yea I meant to put that twice), new schools / classes / camps, new doctors, new everything? Me. Unpacking? Both of us.  Making the house a home? We both bring that... but I take credit for the design of said home. 

I'll never understand how single parents do it. Bottom line, but (almost) more than that? When it comes to parents who are together and one isn't involved? It's a major unsolved mystery. I quite honestly don't know how it's done. To have another able body in the house who doesn't participate?  I know I'm one of the lucky(iest) ones. I know that men like my ball&chain aren't the norm. I know that most every day, at least once a day, I am grateful to be the exception to the rule.

I want for my children to be happy & healthy. Forever. Beyond that? I want them to find a partner. I want them to be the exception to the rule. Whoever their partner may be, I wish for them to find a true partner.  One who they balance out with, because any other life would be unimaginable to me.  I may be one of the lucky(iest) ones, but I need them to have this. I need them to know it's possible.

I hope what "they" say is true, by growing up - seeing this reality - that they will know it's out there for them. I just hope they find it.

1 year.

Our littlest baby girl one years old. One year ago, you made us all feel slightly more whole. Surprisingly, when you love your child with your whole heart and another child comes into that heart? There is plenty of room. It's almost as if, there was something missing before - even if there wasn't. Confusing?  Maybe. But so are you. You are always a surprise. Your arrival was slightly surprising, your name surprising, your personality? SURPRISE. Come to think of it, even being knocked up was a surprise.

You are the best kind of surprise.

You (still) only have a few teeth - but that doesn't stop you from tearing through food. You have two bottom teeth and your two eye teeth are coming in. So basically, you are an adorable little vampire. We used to call you a vampire when you were little because you were always hungry - and let's just say it wasn't pretty.  Your favorite food seems to currently be mac & cheese, but you do love avocado, pasta (with sauce), and we haven't tested it - but we are fairly sure you would eat Chinese food everyday, all day - if it were up to you. Oh and pizza. Good lord, you love pizza. You love fruit - especially melons & peaches.

You are walking and it blows our mind, every day. Sometimes, it makes me cry. Not a bad cry or sad cry. I just can't believe how big you are. You are were my itty bitty baby. Fitting in newborn clothes, and even today - you are just getting to your "age" size. And even saying that, you still wear some 9 month clothing.

We are pretty sure you are a genius - answering yes or no questions or understanding 90% of what we say and reacting to it. Every time you learn something new or show us something different - we are surprised at how fast it is going. I have a feeling there will always be surprises in store for us, with you.

As always, and this should go without saying at this point - you are loved. Loved hard. And loved most by your big sister.

Happy birthday, JBird, JJ, JossyB, Pest, PleaseStopScreamingForTheLoveI'mGettingYouYourFoodAsFastAsPossible.

Love you much. Love you always. 
Mommy, Daddy & your adoring big sister.

7 minutes in heaven or 15 on a shuttle bus

8 years ago, a week or so ago (the 30th) I was hours deep into a crush and realization that a guy who always been one of my favorite people could perhaps be my most favorite person, ever. Wink. I've told the long story, but the good part, the really good part, is always the first part. 

8 years ago our mutual friends were getting hitched. Side note on those birds? They were friends in high school and found each other in a new light years later. Secretly crushing, for what possibly could be years. Just like us. Secretly crushing, until the right moment.  

Our right moment was at the wedding.

Standard wedding table photo, with a side of love blooming.

Lee and her betrothed got married over Memorial Day weekend in 2004. The wedding weekend was amazing. Fun. It was the group of friends you know you will slip right into the best time ever, either way. It was was a time in our life when we weren't inundated by weddings, when they were the most fun.  A reunion. Word on the street was Christoph was coming to the wedding. He was a mutual friend of the group that guaranteed the best time, ever. We always had the best time together.  When I heard he was coming, I knew it would be a good time. 


We spent the weekend together, as we were part of a few not needed for the day to day wedding party responsibilities.  As anticipated, it was a good time. We laughed, all weekend. Best. Time. Ever. When we hung out? We had the kinds of laughs where your face hurt. Serious injury of fun.

And I'm not entirely sure when it happened, but at some point through out the weekend - I knew. I knew there was something there. Like a magical something. We were at a wedding, so there was fun. There was dancing, there was drinking, there was an open bar and I don't want to blame it on the a a a a a alcohol, but I can't say it didn't help.


There was this moment, on the way home. This special, open bar induced moment, that no one is sure who initiated, but we kissed. Really kissed.  And then the next thing we knew, we were thrown out of the moment to hear an audience. "Guarro & Coleman (our nicknames) are making out!" Dare I say, this was bigger news than the wedding itself.

Who needs your eyes open to see love?

We made out a bit more, once we got back to the hotel. Totally classy. First base and nothing else, though we tried to hide in a bush or something thinking that would help the paparazzi.There is more to our love story, but not worth telling - because not much out does making out in the back of a shuttle bus.


And that, my friends, is how we found each other.


Best damn wedding ever. Best damn love story ever. Best damn guy.