Turns out, I will be one of those moms.

"Look at him here. That was the day we brought him home and couldn't figure out how to get him in the carseat."

"Oh and this one here was when he discovered that the cat's tale wasn't meant to be yanked."

"Oh and just look at those chubby legs and that clever grin."

"Was he not the cutest baby you've ever seen?"

The above is dialogue that I will most likely recite as we flash forward to my teenage son and his not good enough girl friend, or maybe so if she agrees with the cuteness of the pictures.

Yeah, I think it is inevitable that I will be that mom. And here's why. I'm already like that. I can't help it. Every little thing he does, whether it is smacking his lips, waving his hand or simply scratching his belly - it is all too cute for words in my book.

I get nostalgic far too often. We watch him sleep on the expensive video monitor my husband had to have (ok, me too) and we get all gooey and mooshy. "Look at him. Just look!" "He's so precious." "I love him so much." "He's a little pumpkin." And we've got so many cutesy nicknames for him, that it is a wonder he knows his real name. It's just a parade of nonsensical terms that make us feel all warm and cozy.

Our boy. I miss him being a baby already. He is growing so fast. He is standing for longer periods of time now and he is pushing his cart and walking while holding on. What is up with that? Did I say it was time? Oh, I guess it's not my decision. I wonder how he'd react to being swaddeled again with a knit hat. Yeah, right. I can't even change his diaper anymore. He is like a little wiggly wrestler with this ongoing laugh. I often worry that I won't be able to contain myself and that I might actually bite that little cheek.

I used to laugh at my mother in law with all the pictures she had to show me of when my husband was a baby. My husband laughed at my pictures and more so at my mom who is still convinced I was a cute baby (so much so that she'll cry and get angry if you say otherwise). I laughed an unknowing laugh. I thought it was cute. I didn't realize till now how serious this is.

My husband and I look at pictures of Logan when he was born, his first weeks, first months and we are already amazed. I can only imagine the emotions that are in store for me as this boy becomes a walking toddler, a kid, a teenager . . . a man.

"The Gas We Pass"

I felt it was an appropriate title for my first blog here, seeing as how this book by Shinta Cho is sitting right above my desk on a shelf. It's displayed quite nicely in between my college text book, "Mass Media Writing" and "Encycolpedia of Dog Breeds". It also deems appropriate because it represents a time when I was a single gal with my single gal friends in Europe to study abroad. It takes me back to the store I bought it in and the goofball I was. It was all about being funny and random. It was about going around with a bright orange vinyl backpack, a Kangol beret and eating icecream cones with cadbury chocolate flakes, knowing I was living the best of two worlds. In Europe, still partly dependent on my parents for school and food. Traveling with my absolute best friend and doing everything unpredicatable. Or maybe we were too predictable and that's what made it unpredicatable. Anyway, my point is that my life almost ten years ago is nothing compared to my life today, except for the fact that I still love to plop myself on the sofa with some snacks and a good movie or, yes, reality show.

Today I am a wife, a mother, and a small business owner. I didn't dream of meeting the man I did. I thought my dreams were of high standards as they were. But, when I met my husband, they exceeded my hopes. I didn't expect to have a true best friend as my husband as well. Together we struggled to make ends meet and took all the advice we could from my parents. We bought a small condo before we were married and from there have moved up twice into a home we love. But, we'll move again, because that is the nature of my husband. He will keep working and striving for more and more and this is something I love about him. He is a dreamer and more importantly, he makes these dreams come true. To make a long story short, my husband and I met in a class just after college. He was fresh from Alabama, sporting the cutest hint of a southern accent and some of it still remains even being in California. He moved out to California with barely any money and a dream. To be successfull. And that, he became. I have copies of letters that his mom gave me, letters to Bill Gates claiming that one day he will take over his empire. It's very humorous, especially coming from an 11 year old. I don't believe I knew who Bill Gates was at that time. I was more interested in Corey Haim and the movie Lucas. But, that's besides the point. So with our new relationship, came new dreams. I think we had a plan in the first two months of meeting. Together we started a business and it has grown and grown and it is something that we are so proud of. The best part of my husband is his sensitivity and emotions. He is so easily touched and it makes me love him more and more.

Ok, so let's move onward. About a year ago (it will be a year in about a week), we achieved our biggest success thus far. Our baby boy, Logan. I have learned more about life and about myself through the miracle of this boy. I used to hear the expression, "I love you so much it hurts." Never more has it rang true. It is actually ridiculously painful and I experienced this the moment he was born.

Wait, should I have stated why I am writing this blog? Ok, well first of all, I have had a blog before, about two years ago, but it was for an entirely different reason. I have a book that I have been writing for far too long and I was hoping that by blogging I would jumpstart myself each day and get it finished, but I allowed many things to get in the way of me finishing this already almost finished book. I am sure that the first is fear. And the others, would be having a business and then getting pregnant and having a child. They are great excuses, right? Um, no.

Anyway, I have decided to start fresh. I want a new blog and I want to write about anything. Whether it be my 2 dogs, my cat, my bird and oh I forgot to mention we have fish too.

But, my guess is that since my life is mainly construed of building blocks, oatmeal, finger foods and sippy cups, I will most likely be writing about my life as a mom and a wife.

So whether I actually do finish this book or achieve any other goals on my ever so long list - I'd like to document all of the inbetween stuff here and if I get some great readers out of it and discover some great blogs out of it, I will assume my quest successfull.

Until then, I will leave my readers (if there are any) with this:

"If you try too hard to hold your farts, your stomach may hurt, you could get dizzy or you could get a headache. So don't hold them in - pass that gas!" - excerpt from The Gas We Pass, The Story of Farts by Shinta Cho