J hates vegetables. Hates them. When he was a baby he loved them - carrots, peas, sweet potatoes, anything green or orange and mashed up to a puree. He ate it up! We look back at some of his old baby pictures and he has an orange tinted face in a lot of them from the carrots and sweet potatoes. But, sigh, he grew up. He just simply won't eat them. A fleck of a green spice in a dish sends him into a tizzy. It's disconcerting. I only comfort myself with the knowledge that he loves fruit and tomatoes, so I know he's getting some vitamins. Occasionally I do try and sneak in veggies where I can - spinach in spaghetti sauce, peas in mac-n-cheese, etc. Yesterday I tried the pea in noodles sneak. He was so on to me. I put the plate down in front of him, nonchalantly, and walked away. He stared at it. Stared at me. Looked back at the plate. "PEAS?!" he hollered in confusion. As if to say "how dare you taint my beloved orange noodles (organic mind you) with this green concoction, blast you woman!" I picked a few out, but this did not satisfy him. He proceeded to pick out every single pea and line them up on a napkin on the table. No, actually, at first he started picking them up and throwing them. But I put the napkin down and informed him it was for the peas. He obliged, putting them all neatly in a row on the napkin. Hey, at least the kid's got manners!
Two little boys Who are 17 months old Two little boys Who love to run and climb Two little boys Who share the same serious expression Two little boys Who look like they are twins Two little boys Who were born 31 years apart Two little boys Who are Father and Son
I adore these two boys
Happy Father's day to my sweet husband whose son bears an uncanny resemblance. And to my own Dad in Texas - hope it's a wonderful day and I'm thinking of you!! xo
I've had a day for it to sink in that you are a boy my little one. Another boy! I'm beyond thrilled. Beyond excited. Beyond the moon with love for you. You aren't here yet, but it was love at first sight the minute we saw you on our first ultrasound 14 weeks ago with your tiny beating heart. You were ours. I worry some that you being the second you won't get the attention your big brother got. How excited all our family and friends were when we told them we were having a boy that first time around - the first boy in a long time in my family. But now, with a 2nd darling boy on the way, I already I see a bit more apathy when we tell people - excitedly -that we are having another boy. It does sadden me because I think you should be just as celebrated. Your arrival should be filled with the same anticipation that came with Jackson. So know my little man that we cried when we found out you were a boy -tears of joy and excitement and anticipation. Know that we wait with baited breath for your arrival in 20 more weeks. Know that we can hardly wait to add another boy to our brood. You complete our family. That much I know is true.
Reduce, Reuse, Recycle. That's our theme. Meaning: Looks like I'm gonna be reusing all my boy stuff - it's a HE!!!!!!!!!!! And he's healthy and strong and growing right on track.
Shawn and I are a bit stunned. This pregnancy has been so different (re: I've been sick as a dog) that we both pegged it a girl. But I have often said "I think it's a girl, so it must be a boy!" I was right! Plus, I dreamed it 2 nights ago and my dream was right. I'm so excited!! I can't believe I'm going to be a mom to two boys - me, the girliest girly of all girls! I feel so beyond blessed. I just feel this is my path in life - to raise boys who are as decent, good and loving as their father. If I can accomplish that then I've succeeded in this life.
So when I picked up Jackson at daycare I asked him if he wanted a baby brother and he replied "A green brother?" I don't know what that means, but I'm guessing sometime in this little baby's life his big brother is going to paint him green!
I put Jackson down for nap 20 minutes ago. It's been very quiet. I assumed, after a long morning of swimming, that he was conked out. Wrong! Suddenly I hear the silliest, most euphoric giggles coming from his room. That and a verse of "Fruit Salad" by the Wiggles. A few more giggles. A few more Wiggles. He's obviously not sleeping. But it makes me smile to hear him entertaining himself. To hear that something is making him laugh that isn't me or his Dad. It shows me more and more how grown up he's getting. How independent. How very much a toddler he is It makes me want to run in there, swoop him up into a tickle-fit, and see what's so dang funny. But I just sit here listening to the laughter and the song, and adoring this sweet little man of mine...from afar. This is his time right now.
I’ve become “that kind of mom.” Before you become a parent you say to yourself “I’ll never be that kind of mom!” You know, when you are childless and think you have it all figured out, you can’t understand how some moms do the things they do. And yet, I have become her. I realized this as I saw my son pop his 3rd dum-dum sucker of the day into his mouth as I was out shopping the other day. Shopping with him is a total drag. But I needed to sort out some stuff for Shawn’s father’s day. I didn’t want to hear Jackson squawk and cry and hassle me about yet another trip to Target (our 3rd trip this week). So I popped a sucker in his mouth to keep him happy. I also did this when we got to the free showing of “Curious George” and it was sold out – pop in a sucker, make the kid happy. And again I did it when my shopping excursion took me to the dreaded den of all shopping – Wal-Mart. Pop in a sucker, keep him quiet just long enough to get me to aisle 12 and out again. Keeping count? That’s three suckers in one day. It’s called bribery and it works like a charm. One day it’s going to bite me in the tush though, I know it. I have also been known to slip him French fries while in a restaurant – again, to quiet him down. I swore up and down my kid would not eat fried foods at such a tender age. Wrong! Whatever keeps him from yelling out in a public place, I’ll do it. I’m sure there is a long list I should be keeping of all the things I do to or for my son that I swore – pre-Jackson – I’d never do. But you are naïve (aka stupid) before you have kids, and you think irrationally. You don’t know any better. Now I do. This child is the king of the household – Shawn and I have been dethroned.
It's raining. Not a little drizzle or light splatter, but raining!! Thunder and all. I love it, love it, love it. We have so needed the rain. Never thought I'd say that after 8 years in the Emerald City. It smells so fresh and so clean. I'm hoping this helps our backyard, which is currently like straw. We are kind of clueless with actually having to keep a yard green since we never had to before. So this has nothing to do with my son or my fetus, but thank you, thank you, thank you for the rain!!
I had a bad dream last night that I went into pre-term labor. I'm only 19 weeks. I dreamed that the contractions were quite painful (bummer to have to have pain in a dream, like labor isn't hard enough when its real!) and only 2 minutes a part. The weird thing is, I had a string tied around my stomach and every time I contracted the string got tighter and tighter. I couldn't remove the dang string!! I also couldn't get through to my Dr either. It was a frightening dream. But the funny part is the string. I think I dreamed that because last night before bed I was watching "Good Eats" and Alton Brown was trussing a roast with kitchen twine. It was fascinating. Obviously fascinating enough for me to dream about it - I just wish I wasn't the roast!
In this world of mom-dom I meet lots of moms at the park and the library and such, and have lots of mom-friends. We moms talk, ya know? I mean, we are locked up with little needy people all day who don't speak in complete sentences. So we jabber jabber jabber the minute we are around someone over the age of 12; doesn't matter if we know them or not. But what I'm learning from all these jabbering moms is how amazing my husband is. Seriously, I do think he has to be the best dad out there. I hear the chats, the rants, the discussions about other mother's husbands - and my husband is not one of those dads. I never have anything to rant about. He's too good (shhh, don't tell him - I have a good thing going here). My husband is the dad you see at the park that all the kids are hanging on - not just his own kid, all the kids. He's the dad who wipes hands and faces and clears dinner plates. He fixes the loose drawer and the broken sprinkler head, and still does milk and story time before bed for our son. He does bathtime regularly - because he wants to. He plays hard with Jackson. He laughs hard with Jackson. He dances hard with Jackson. He truly adores being with his child. He never complains that he's tired, or hungry, or just not in the mood to play trains for the millionth time. He never complains that the house is a mess, or his clothes aren't ironed, or that dinner bites. If he's late for a meal, and we've already eaten, he waits until Jackson is in bed to eat so he won't miss out on any fun time. And then, when the house is all quiet and little feet and hands are resting beneath their 3 blankies for the night, he scoops out a big fat bowl of vanilla bean ice-cream for his pregnant wife and tells her what a great mom she is. How ever did I get so fortunate to marry such an amazing guy? Fate? Nope, I don't think it's that. I just think it's pure luck - I won the lottery on this one for sure.