Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the comments, tweets, and Facebook congratulations. I couldn’t have done it without you guys, seriously. I pour the feelings and thoughts I can’t put anywhere else into this blog so thank you for seeing me through my stresses, fears, and mood swings. You guys are, like, the best boyfriends ever.

Speaking of boyfriends, mine is MIA. I won’t get into the ugly of it, but basically, Ben’s been doing the work of his entire group since the beginning of the semester. And I mean, he’s been slaving. This is the only time I will say this, but I’m glad that Ben lost his job when he did. It would have been impossible for him to finish this project otherwise and if he hadn’t done what he did all this week, the group wouldn’t have a project at all. Tonight, he and one of his group members, Ryan (This guy. The stories I want to tell. He is epic. He’s like Don Draper hyped up on douche juice and dipped in awesome.), are doing all the paperwork. I’m talking like 84 pages. The 30 pages one of his other group members has been working on is basically useless so they’re rewriting everything. He’s not even coming home tonight. But then, he will done and we will both be finished with higher education, at least, for now.

So, that’s one boy.

The other one had his 4 month wellness check up today. He screamed when he saw the nurse. There is no way he could possibly remember her or what she does from last time, but dang, he gave the biggest blood-curdling cry. He’s weighing it at 13.5 lbs so he’s officially in the 20th percentile for weight–go us!–and he’s 25th for height. He was on his best behavior for the doctor which was great and didn’t even cry that badly when he got his shots. (POOR BABY). When he got home, he slept a little and I ate an entire large Quiznos sub and a fudge brownie because I was starving. I immediately regretted this decision because I had been doing so well at eating well but I swear, I barely saw what I was putting in my mouth. I just inhaled. I hadn’t eaten all day. Avery was having a clingy day and the bread for turkey sandwiches was stuck in the highest cabinet. You know how we do.

Right before Ben left for the night, Avery woke up screaming. Nothing I could do could console him. He barely ever refuses to eat, if only for comfort, but he did and so I so I knew he must be in pain from his shots. Sure enough, his poor little legs were red and swollen around the injection sites. I warmed a washcloth and rubbed it on his legs and when it didn’t work very well, I massaged them with my hands. I also gave him a dose of baby Tylenol and just held, rocked, and sang to him. Poor baby went off to sleep and hasn’t woken up yet. Speaking of, the doctor suggested now is the time to introduce rice cereal which will also help him sleep longer at night. I will GLADLY give up getting up every 3 hours throughout the night but I am wondering if any of my mom friends have any advice. Is it too soon to give him rice cereal? She also suggested introducing fruits and veggies now which surprised me because he’s not even 6 months yet. Any and all opinions would be most appreciated.

Avery is getting restless so I’m expecting he’ll be up any moment to eat so I’m going to try and wrap this up. OH WAIT. I have to tell you guys my crazy dream. Hold the phones, guys. You don’t want to miss this one.

So, ever since I was in a high school production of Dracula, I have dreams about either being in the play again and, like, not remembering my lines, and about being a real-life vampire hunter a la Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Last night, I was the latter. I think I was my old character, the Texan for anyone well-versed in the novel, and I was chasing and being chased by vamps with such characters as Jonathan Harker and Van Helsing. All I really remember was that Van Helsing was really, really ripped and refused to wear a shirt the entire time. He was also asleep when the vamps decided to ambush us in some Victorian bedroom. I remember trying to wake up Van Helsing and the dude just wouldn’t get up. He was like having  a Ben moment. He guy sleeps like a freaking rock. I literally have to kick him to get him back to the land of the living. Anyway, so the vamps are coming and we are definitely going to die and I’m so scared that I actively decide that I am going to become a vamp instead. So, basically, I let these ugly, scary vampires burst into the room and bite me.

And here’s the crazy part. The vampire dude who bites me transforms into this pale, highly attractive young guy who glitters in the waning sunlight (yeah, I know. Sue me. My dream vampies strike in sunlight. NO ONE IS SAFE.). Glitters. I effing got bit by Edward Cullen.

WHAT.

So, then, he takes me to his posse of equally attractive, edgy vampy friends who gift me a flashy, wonderful car that also glitters and explain to me that because we are now vampires, we will be young and sexy forever. And my thought process was this: No wonder everyone wants to kill vampires. They’re just jealous that we get to live forever and never get old and ugly.

What is wrong with Dream Me? What am I eating before bed? Most importantly, WHY is Dream Me a Twi-hard?

Holy crap. My subconscious wants Edward Cullen. How did this happen? I never even read the books! I saw one movie! On Christmas! And it was so boring I kept getting up and leaving.

There is just so much WTF, I don’t even want to think about it. But yeah, that was my dream. Enjoy.

I’m going to go read Matched now. Dream Me and Real Me need to have words, son.

A quick shot from this morning. I just love this little boy so much.

I have been waiting for about a year to write this post.

Avery, today, we found out we made it through graduate school. We passed, baby. Oh, my goodness, we did it, we did it, we did it. I’m so proud and overwhelmed. I can’t believe that we are here.

This day is surreal, honestly. I remember thinking about getting through my final semester and thinking I didn’t know how I was going to do it but once I did it, I’d be able to look forward to my baby boy being born. When I slumped my way into the meeting about the comprehensive exam, I thought there was no way I could picture myself getting the energy or the will to study and pass this final hurdle. I took my little not-yet-three-month-old to the Central Valley in an attempt to get some extra time and freedom to study and when that didn’t happen, I was convinced there was no way that this was going to happen. As I sat in front of the computer about to type a paper that would determine if I could put higher education in my rearview mirror for a bit, I thought of Avery and he really powered me through it. I was so inspired by everything that he is, everything that he means to me and to my life right now, that I just knew I had to do this so that I could be the very best and happiest mother for him. I owed this to him. I wanted to show him that even when you think it’s impossible, you can do it.

In a little over a week, I will graduate with a masters degree in English. I’ll graduate with a G.P.A. of 3.762. I have a 4.0 for all of the courses that count towards my degree. I’m so proud of how far I’ve come, from a timid Communications major trying to prove myself, to holding a degree that means I know what the EFF I’m talking about.

It really hit me when Ben brought home my cap, gown, and hood yesterday. Everything that I’ve been working towards for over two years and everything I’ve sacrificed and struggled for is coming to fruition. I am tenaciously proud of two things in my life: my degrees and my child. When I walk next week, I’m walking for myself, but I’m also walking for the little boy sleeping next to me right now. It feels amazing.

Yeah. I didn’t know they were releasing scores today so imagine my shock and panic when Rachel texted me telling me the news. Rachel has been an extraordinary support throughout this whole process. She’s a mother and graduate student and her emails of wisdom, inspiration, and humbling truth (Sometimes, you just have to give up studying and hug your baby.) have gotten me through so much in the past four months. Rachel, I know you read this–thank you from the bottom of my heart. You are incredible and that thesis is going to be amazing and, best of all, DONE.

I didn’t really want to find out, to be honest. I mean, I wanted to know if I had passed or not but then I also didn’t want to know if I would have to repeat this whole thing next semester. It’s like looking at the label before you eat a muffin. You want to know if it’ll wreck your diet but then you don’t and want to live in this blissful place where that big ol’ muffin was definitely only 200 calories. I was going insane. I distinctly remember one nightmare I had where I failed the exams but they were going to let me re-take them the next day. I get to the exam and I look at the paper, I see two questions, choose to answer the first one, and I start typing away about Frankenstein. My subconscious bleeds Frankenstein. Time is ticking. One hour goes by. I’m still typing. Another hour goes by. Still typing. Then, I look down at the prompt again. OH MY SWEET JESUS. The directions read: Respond to both questions in reference to–insert the title of a book I have never even heard of. It was like, Molog-something. Crazy title. All I remember was that the second question was like, “What did Francine drop by the river and how does it pertain to her deeper conflict throughout the novel?” I mean, WHAT. There was no way I could even begin to fake this one. So, with, like, half an hour left on the clock I go up to the proctor whose name is Professor Gilmore (and who is actually the real proctor of the real-life exam) and I just go, “I can’t do this. I’m just not going to pass.” And he goes, “WHA-AT?” I just don’t know the book, I say. I have no idea. And he goes, “I’ll have to take this up with Dr. Lau.” HAHAHAHA. Oh, man. This sounds so funny in my head. Dr. Lau is also a real person, by the way.

Anyway, so Dream Professor Gilmore takes my little paper to Dream Dr. Lau, who chews me out. I tell her I haven’t even read this book they’re asking about. How could I have known to pick this one book out of all books from all nineteenth century British literature? She goes, “That’s not our problem.” HAHAHA! So, like, that’s when I break down. I really want to pass, I tell her. I really deserve to pass. After all this time and all my honest hard work and achievement throughout the entire program, and this one tiny little detail is going to deny me my degree? It’s just sad. There’s nothing more that I can do. Okay, she finally says, and she writes down on my paper. “Pass. Exempt due to the fact that she can’t see in order to type her exam.” WHAT. So Dream Dr. Lau basically makes up a blatant LIE in order to let me get my degree. I remember wishing in my dream that this could happen in real life. I leave Dream Dr. Lau’s office and I am walking along a building that looks like one of the colleges I visited at Oxford University in England. I am thinking, oh my goodness, I have my degree. I can go home and see Avery now. But then I also felt incredibly awkward. Like, this wasn’t a celebration at all. I didn’t really earn it in the end. Even in my dream, the guilt of not doing it the right way killed me.

So, flash back to this afternoon when Rachel told me I could get my results RIGHT NOW OMG. She thought maybe I would have better luck getting my scores if I go to the office in person. There was no way I could get to campus. Ben’s car has the permit on it for parking and he’s basically living at his friend’s house this week to finish the project. She suggested I call because then maybe I could get my results over the phone seeing as I have a little one at home. She even gave me the extension to call. You best believe I was stalling for time. I double-checked the extension, I triple-checked it before I dialed. I truly expected to get forwarded to voice mail because it was after the work day was over. The phone rang and rang. And then, our graduate secretary answered. OH LORD. I asked for my exam results, please. I gave her my name. “Just a moment,” she said, non-chalant as can be. That moment lasted for-freaking-ever, you guys. She hesitated. I seriously thought she was going to have to deliver the sad and embarrassing news that I had bombed. I PASSED. I quietly thanked her and hung up the phone.

And then I screamed. I screamed so loud that Mike, holding Avery in the living room, had to ask what was wrong. “I passed!” I shouted. When I got back out to the living room, Mike is marching through the kitchen, behind the couch, and around in circles with the Boppy around his neck and Avery in his arms chanting “Party Rock.” Avery looked so confused. For him, one moment everything was calm and quiet. We’d been watching HGTV all day and it was one of those lazy, quiet summer days where you don’t even turn on the lights. The next, I’m screaming and jumping up and down, and Mike is dancing. Avery celebrated by throwing up all over the place. He really knows how to keep it real.

That was my big news for today. We are one step closer to our best-case scenario and to the next step in our lives. It feels amazing.

And now Avery woke up so I’ve got to run. I’ll keep you posted on Ben’s project and everything else. Am going to bed with stars in my eyes tonight.

I always tease Ben for being super, cheesy white guy when he’s like, “Ahh, it’s a beautiful day. HA HA HAA. Or like, “Alright. Let’s just fire up the grill here on this beautiful day. Oh, hey there, Bill. How’s the family?” Today, though, I was the one all, “It’s a beautiful day here in Southern California, HA HA HAA.”

Avery woke up early, as always, but cooed and chattered away happily to himself for half an hour while I slowly woke myself up. We snuggled for a while and then I got us both dressed and off to our WIC appointment. I always try to make my appointments for when they first open in the morning so that we can quickly get in and out but today was a bit of a wait. I was nervous that Avery was going to get fussy and bored but he was happy as can be, laughing away.

One little boy there was all dimples and ruffled blonde hair. He had these little soft shoes with robots on them (HEART.) and was gleefully running around with his mom’s keys in hand. She picked him up and kissed him, ruffling his hair, and I just imagined for a moment what it would be like when Avery is that age. I thought of him toddling around with a huge grin on his face and wondered if his hair would be fluffy and messy like this little boy’s. I wondered if that little boy climbs up on the bed and wakes his mama up in the morning and the first thing she gets to do is kiss his little head and smooth that soft, delicate hair. I love Avery’s baby days and I am always so sad to see him get older and outgrow his baby-ness more and more, but these are days I’ll look forward to, too.

Which reminds me, Avery is exactly 4 months old today. I can’t believe it. Where did the time go?

Not sure if I’ve mentioned this before, but Avery hates his carseat. I mean, it’s weird. Sometimes he’s totally fine and he’ll play with his stroller toys and have a wonderful time and other moments, it’s like it’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to him. Our drive to the appointment, he was knocking around his toys and listening to it make music. The way back, he wanted out. Mike was with us and was concentrating so hard on getting me, my purse, diaper bag, and Avery into the car that he forgot his wallet and cell phone on the top of the car and we had to stop and found them littered in the road. Oops. The upside to that, though, was Mike said the fall actually made his phone work faster. I still felt so guilty. The poor guy came with us on his day off after working until 3 in the morning at Disneyland, for crying out loud. I bought the man a Starbucks on the way home.

Both he and Avery tired themselves out, though, and both are napping peacefully.

He’s had a long morning so far.

So, to recap Mother’s Day, it started off super crappy, calmed down and then slid into exceptionally uneventful, and ended sweetly. I got into the most horrendous fight with The Roommate. I was like, “you’re going to do this on my first Mother’s Day? OF COURSE YOU ARE.” That and it was 11 months in coming and involved Avery, so you know it ended in tears. P.S. Not mine. (P.P.S. Melissa, your tweet says it all.)

The thing is, when I see someone cry, I just–I can’t. No matter who it is. I’ve gotten tons more tender-hearted in the past four months, especially towards boys, it’s insane. If someone’s crying, I just have to hug them and make them feel better. So I did and I think that’s what kept the fight from being a source of endless awkwardness for the next month. Plus, I’m not a hateful person. I’ll be blunt and say what I mean and what needs to be said, but I do have a heart.

Ben and Avery watched Sesame Street while it all went down, by the way. Mike woke up and tried to take Avery so that Ben could help me out but Ben was like, I think she’s doing just fine. When I came back into the room they both kind of gave me this wide-eyed, intent look. It’s all good, guys. Ben was relieved. He hates conflict and the only thing he hates more than conflict is awkardness. He leaves the room during chick flicks when the leading guy or girl gets chewed out for doing something super compromising and misunderstood, that’s how much he can’t stand them.

Kid shows are enthralling. They involve the craziest circumstances and the way they deal are downright hilarious.

For instance: Elmo and Big Bird are singing an airy little song while swaying softly as cartoon-drawings of crayoned grass, flowers, and happy animals scroll along the bottom of the screen.

Ben explains what was going on:

1. They’re riding imaginary tricycles.

2. First, Elmo was riding his real tricycle and then Big Bird wanted to try it out so he sat down on it and broke it.

3. Elmo wasn’t really mad about this. He just kind of stood there with his mouth hanging open and he kept muttering, “Tri…tri…tricycle…HOW WILL ELMO RIDE IT?”  So now he’s riding an imaginary one.

Apparently, though, Maria from the Fix It Shop was repairing it. BUT he was having such a good time riding imaginary bikes with Big Bird that he decided to keep riding his IMAGINARY, INVISIBLE TRICYCLE with Big Bird.

And then there was the episode when the dinosaur named Herb (“short for herbivore”) came onto Sesame Street and ate Gordon’s salad before explaining his favorite game to play with his dinosaur friends which was to run into each other and whoever didn’t get hurt won a stick. WHAT.

No wonder childhood felt so magical.

The rest of the day was totally normal. Mike attempted to get us all together and take me out for brunch but brunch on Mother’s Day? Nigh impossible without reservations. Ben tried to get us all out the door to go to the Renfaire but he also had two finals to study for so we really couldn’t take a whole day trip. Plus, he was tired.

All I really wanted was to spend the day with my little dude and watch HGTV. I’m obsessed with Craftsmen-style homes. Well, I’m obsessed with homes in general but I especially lose my ish over arts-and-crafts architecture.

It’s just so welcoming. It’s like, if that house were a person, it would embrace me in a huge hug as soon as I come up the walk, wrap me in a blanket, and make me some hot chocolate. I die. I could plant flowers and get those mountain rocks and have a trellis.It’d be wonderful.

It matches that feeling I get when I give Avery his nighttime bath and baby massage and wrap him up cozy in his towel.

After Avery fell asleep, Ben snuck out to the store and came back with this huge grin and a present.

I love them. They’re sitting next to my bed right now, next to the little vase of roses Ben bought me after I got back from my Phi Kappa Phi ceremony because he felt bad he couldn’t be there. There’s just so much to celebrate right now. Graduation is next week. Our baby is healthy and happy.

I’m scared and excited for whatever comes next but for now, I’m just going to hug my sleeping little boy and cuddle down with him for a little snooze. I’ll talk to you all later!

Wow. Before I get started, thank you to everyone who commented, tweeted, and texted words of support. You are all amazing and truly warmed my heart.

I promised a better, more honest blog. I promised a more interesting look into the moments of my life. I would first like to say that I will be so overjoyed to put this phase in my life far into my past.

PREVIEW: This post is 99% about underwear. Dirty underwear. And not mine. Should be fun, no?

So, I live with a roommate  who is the stuff of nightmares. I do, in fact, have night terrors about him regularly. Ben will gladly recount the time that he had to wake me up because I was yelling in my sleep and it seriously sounded like I was exorcising a demon.

Just trust me on this one. This guy is unbelievable. He used to give me contractions. I can’t even begin to tell you the stuff he’s done. It will make you sick. His newest method of torture is to hang his DIRTY UNDERWEAR on our towel rack. Touching our towel. Like, seriously. Of the four towel racks in the bathroom, he broke one off the wall entirely, uses one for his towel, and uses the other for his hand towel. There is no reason for him to use the one tiny little towel rack that houses the towel that Ben and I have to share because there’s no room for us to each have our own. It’s just–I don’t have to tell you. It’s dirty underwear!

I talked to him about this already. He said he was drunk, he wasn’t thinking, it won’t happen again. Okay, fine. Well, tonight, Ben goes into the bathroom and finds our roommate’s SOILED GYM SHORTS hanging on our towel rack, again, all over our towel. Come on. So I made these.

It pretty much says it all. I used “Impact” font because it’s the font used in memes and therefore automatically shows that I MEAN BUSINESS.

ALSO! My friend, the one I wrote about in my last blog entry, sent me a picture of the sign I was talking about. He still has it! It exists!

This made me smile so much. It brought back so many memories of simpler and happier times.

This blog is going to be all over the place because I’m sleep-deprived and writing against the clock. Little dude will be up any moment ready to eat.

AHA. Well, I just got a text–a text message. On my phone. From said roommate at 2:30 am, sent  from his room about my “passive aggressive” note. Since he demanded “having a talk” tomorrow, I went and knocked on his door and said we could talk now. I was able to give Avery to Mike and have him leave the area because if there’s one thing I won’t do, is talk to this roommate in Avery’s presence. That’s reasonable enough.

And it’s Mother’s Day for crying out loud. My first. I’m not spending it hashing out things that won’t change the way he behaves on the day I want to spend with my family celebrating. Either way, he responded by pretending to either be asleep or dead. Either one. Because that was the quietest he’s ever been and this is a guy who used to wake me up throwing open his bedroom door in the morning.

Besides, as my helpful note clearly outlines, we already spoke about this exact issue. Spoke in person, directly to each other, and he still chose to do precisely what I asked him to never do again. The next step, then, for any lucid human being, is to put it into writing so that it sits there as a reminder the next time he is reaching up and thinking of putting a sweaty jock strap where it doesn’t belong. Unfortunately, he also tore down my notes so this pretty much defeated their purpose entirely. I’m going to have to frame them.

Listen, guys. The only pair of used underpants that I’d be okay with finding all over my personal effects would belong to Jensen Ackles. That’s all I’m saying.