The Joke's On Me

Ah, April Fool's Day.

I've never been big on pulling pranks, mostly because I hate when someone pulls a prank on me.  I don't think what happened to me on April Fool's Day was an actual prank.  It was one of those moments when you think to yourself, "surely I'm on Candid Camera."  Okay, so it's 2011.  Much more likely I'd end up on YouTube, but you get the idea.

I was feeling adventerous, and decided to take both boys to the store with me, all by myself, for the first time.  But first, we had to stop for gas. 

When I got out of the car at the pump, there was an adorable old couple at the same pump on the other side.  They couldn't figure out how to start the pump.  I totally knew where they were coming from.  For some reason, this gas station has the wrong message pop up.  It tells you to lift the handle to start the pump, but there is no handle to lift.  I decided to do the right thing and went over to help them and started the pump for them.

I was feeling pretty good.  It was early in the day and I already had a good deed under my belt.  They must have only been topping off their tank because in just a few minutes they were having a hard time getting a receipt.  I went over to help them again.  They were all set with their receipt and I stopped my pump.  I was putting the nozzle away when out of nowhere the gas started again and sprayed everywhere and then suddenly stopped.

And where was the sweet, adorable old man who I had just helped?  Oh, he was still there.  He walked over to my pump and said, "It goes in the car sweetheart.  You better hope no one lights a match." 

Seriously.

That is what he said.

He did not offer to help.  At all. 

I gave him the stink eye and drove the boys to the car wash.

Sometimes it just doesn't pay to be nice.

And for the record, this wouldn't have ever happened if I still lived in New Jersey.

Battle Scars

Peyton has a battle scar.  It's tiny.  So small that I often forget it's even there.  I notice it most when I'm giving him a bath, a small dot on his chest that's a little too pink and and feels funny.  It is so small that I had a hard time making it show up in this picture.  You might think it's just a speck of dust on your screen, but it's there.  Trust me. 
All of this will be a story we tell Peyton. 
I hope that scar reminds him how hard his little body had to fight to survive.  I hope that he battles through every obstacle he is yet to face.  He is so strong.  He is a fighter.  He fought hard to live.  The rest should be easy.  When nothing is going right, I want him to look at that scar and remember that the worst moment of his life is behind him.  I want that to be true.
My battle scar isn't so easy to see.  This little boy broke my heart into tiny little pieces.  I felt like I failed him.  I still feel like I failed him.  My job was to bring him into this world healthy and whole and I couldn't do that.  He is almost three months old and I still put my hand on his chest to be sure he's breathing.  I cry when he cries.  I hold him at night longer than I need to and whisper I'm sorry into his ear. 
I'm smart enough to logically understand that in a few years this will all be behind us.  Peyton will be big and strong and crazy like his big brother.  He'll say silly things.  He'll be a daredevil.  With time, my heart will heal.
And all that remains will be his tiny little scar.

Million Dollar $mile

Okay, so million dollar smile is an exaggeration, but it is a quarter million dollar smile.  And worth every single penny.