Monday, July 31, 2006

Aunt Kimi


Jackson and Aunt Kimi, love at first dance

Friday, July 28, 2006

Five



~Five~
Happy Anniversary my love....



Friday, July 21, 2006

Rainy Day




Thursday, July 20, 2006

Confession

My name is Amy, and I am a reformed "anal retentive freak." Yep, I admit it. Before we had kids Shawn and I almost prided ourselves on how anal retentive, neat, and tidy we were. Everything in our home had a place. Dust didn't linger for longer than an hour on most surfaces. Our fridge looked like it was a showroom model. My clothing was unstained and ironed. Meals were served in our immaculate dining room, on good dishes, and food remained on said dishes - not on the floor. For Heaven's sake, we had a rug on our dining room floor! Fastforward 2 years. My how a toddler changes everything! Before Jackson could walk, and when I was still working, we maintained our sense of anality. Ask anyone, we were a little bit over the top. But ever since he learned to walk/talk/run/destruct, all bets are off. I'm reformed! I have to be, I have no choice. I forget to dust surfaces for weeks, sometimes months at a time. There is a layer on my blinds that likely I'll never attempt to remove. The tile floor has specks of food, drink, drool and playdough ground into the grout. Lovely. Every single shirt I own is stained. We traded in our cherry wood dining set for a farmhouse table that Jackson can bang "The Star Spangled Banner" on with a fork and I don't care. My fridge is a science experiment. Bug stickers are regularly attached to my shoes, butt, forearm -- and not on purpose. Our artwork has been replaced with crayola colorings of "The Little Einsteins." And you know what, I love it! At times I have to restrain myself from vacuuming after every meal (and sometimes I still do), but otherwise I have let it go. I have other things to fret over. I have towers to build with legos, and wooden trains arriving at Sodar station any minute now. I have cheese, apples, and turkey dogs to cut up. Milk to pour. Laundry to fold - even if it is stained. But most importantly I have a two year old (and a baby-to-be) to smother with love and attention and games and hugs. So that is where the priorities have shifted. And it feels pretty freeing to be able to run a finger along the dusty shelf and laugh it off without running for the Swiffer.

Monday, July 17, 2006

Bottle this feeling

I know that this is my last baby. We have always known it was going to be 2 children for us, no matter what genders we were blessed with. So I'm trying to hold onto this precious feeling for as long as I can. My last pregnancy. Certainly there are things about pregnancy that I don't like - nausea, weight gain, exhaustion, and constipation (sorry!). But there are things I just adore, and wish I could "bottle" up to hold onto forever. I love my bump! I think it's so cute. It's not a little basketball bump that is so coveted by moms-to-be, but I like mine just fine. It's round and bulges just ever so slightly to the left, where little man likes to hang out most of the time. I love talking about the baby, wondering who he will take after (like there's any true question), and asking Jackson what he thinks about having a brother. But most of all I love the feeling of movement. I think it is one of the most amazing feelings in the world. It's exhilarating. I love feeling him flip and flop and kick and punch. So far it isn't too hard, so I may retract that statement in another month or so. But for now it is so miraculous and amazing to know that a little human being is growing inside me. He gets into a comfy spot and hangs out there for awhile, then moves around trying to get comfy again -- just like his Daddy at night. During the day we are so busy running around that I rarely notice him. But at night, when Jackson is in bed and Shawn and I are just hanging out, he comes out to play. We play a game - I push into a side of my tummy, he kicks back at me. Already I know he's a playful one. He settles down after about an hour or two of kicking and cocoons into my left side for the night. A few more modest kicks and jabs, maybe a tiny tickle with his toes, and he sleeps. I just so wish I could memorize and save that feeling forever. It is precious. And I will miss it when he joins us in the big, bright world that awaits him.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Some days are just hard

I know no other way to phrase it than that. Some days are just hard. Some days I feel I'm barely keeping my head above water. Some days I want to bang my head against a wall. Some days I do. Some days I wish I was sitting in my old office, drinking a diet coke, and gossiping with Jen. Some days are bad days (or maybe bad weeks!). Some days I think my neighbors are going to call Child Protective Services on me! I know, plenty of moms with multiple children would shake their heads at me and say "you should try two!" or three, or four, or five, or whatever. But for now, just one is taking it's toll on me. He's two. I get it. He's rambunctious, wild, and has little self control. But that doesn't make it any easier. I want to cry from frustration from all his hitting bouts as of late. It makes me feel like I'm failing. Like I'm the one doing something wrong. Oh, I know I'm not. I know most kids go through this...but when the heck is mine gonna out grow it??? And don't get me started on how he loves to mischievously run down the side walk to escape me when we are in the front yard! I'm hot, I'm pregnant, I'm angry. I sling him over my shoulder (I bet I can bench press more than Shawn these days, ha ha), and march him in the house. That is where my paranoia of the neighbors calling CPS comes from! sigh...

So I sit her, trying to grasp when and where my week went wrong and I can't lay my finger on it. It has just been an off week for us. We've had moments of true joy - he was an absolute angel at my doctor's appointment on Tuesday. And I bragged how great he did. Then Wednesday and today he has let go a demon I didn't know existed. That's what it is, I got too sure of myself. Bragged on his good behavior. And low and behold the demon made his presence known. Whew... Here's to better days ahead. I love you kid. But some days are just hard.

Monday, July 10, 2006

Jackson's got a truck on his head

We're big Laurie Berkner fans in our house. She's a great children's entertainer, but not so annoying that we adults can't rock out to her now and again, too. Her songs are catchy and intelligent - well, most of them are anyway. I have a girlfriend who every time she calls me she sings me a chorus from one of Laurie's CDs. We got her daughter the DVD/CD for her birthday and apparently they are big fans now, too! One of her best songs (in my honest opinion) is "Pig on her head."
A sampling of the lyrics:
Laurie's got a pig on her head
Laurie's got a pig on her head
Laurie's got a pig on her head And she keeps it there all day
What does a pig say? oink, oink!
Brian has a dog on his head
Brian has a dog on his head
Brian has a dog on his head And he keeps it there all day
What does a dog say? woof, woof! ......
Everybody put your hands on your head
Everybody put your hands on your head
Everybody put your hands on your head And keep them there all day
....Clap your hands clap clap your hands Clap your hands clap clap your hands Clap your hands clap clap your hands Clap clap clap awayyyyyyy

Catchy, eh? I was reminded of this song today when I went to check on Jackson during nap-time. He was sound asleep. With a large plastic dump truck on his head. And a rocket ship in his hand. He was obviously playing before he fell asleep. And I mean seconds before he fell asleep. The truck was laying on his head, his hand still gripping the front bumper. The rocket ship was mid-flight. I mean, his hand was slightly raised as if he had been launching the rocket (over the truck I guess?) and he conked out mid-take-off. And so I've been singing "Jackson's got a truck on his head, Jackson's got a truck on his head, and he keeps it there all day!" Actually, I did remove the truck from his head, and the rocket ship from his hand. But I've still got that song filtering through my head.

Friday, July 07, 2006

Lightening doesn't strike twice...

Lightening doesn't strike twice... well, it doesn't strike the same place twice. But it can strike the same individuals twice. For the 2nd time we've been struck and had a casualty. The first time, last year, we lost our computer and printer. It was fairly new. Very sad. Lesson learned (so we thought) - if you are going to living Colorado, you need to have really good surge protectors. Really good. OK, moving forward a year. We have moved. We are careless. We plugged our TV and DVD player in the minute we moved into the new house. Didn't think twice about it. We separated it from our stereo system because they are now stored in separate areas. So the stereo (Shawn's 2nd pride and joy next to Jackson) had the surge protector. You can see where this is going, right? A week ago the storms started. Thankfully. We have desperately needed the rain. I said to Shawn "we should get a surge protector for the TV soon." Two days later we are struck by lightening again. The house lit up like a Christmas tree! Jackson was a little freaked out- we all were. We lost the TV and the DVD player. Then our thermostat started smoking. Needless to say, we called the fire department. We explained it wasn't an emergency, yet 8 minutes later 2 firetrucks and a cop car came screeching up to our house. The house we've lived in less than 4 months. By this point, Jackson was ecstatic! He LOVES firetrucks. The men did their thing, checked the house from top to bottom. Nothing was awry. They did say we did the right thing by calling -- the same thing had happened the day before and an attic caught fire. Whew! An hour later the firetrucks rolled away, giving Jackson a high that lasted well beyond what should have been bedtime. The next day we got a new thermostat. It's July, we need the A/C!

This weekend we will begrudgingly purchase a new TV and DVD player...and a really, really good surge protector.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Remembering you small


This morning I'm remembering Jackson as an infant. I mean really an infant. Newborn. I guess having this other little boy inside me is making me nostalgic for that baby stage. Good thing since it's about to hit us full force in a few more months!

Jackson, you were so beautiful, the moment you were born. Everyone said so. You just didn't look like a newborn usually does - squished and redfaced. OK, maybe a little redfaced, like a little old man, but still, beautiful. We were in such awe of you. We still are. I can hardly believe that another little boy is going to be joining our family soon. It's hard for me to grasp that he's not going to be you. Odd, I know. I guess once he gets here it will seem more "real" and your personas will separate. You will both have these little individual personalities. And you two, well, I think you'll become the best of friends. I hope so. And I hope he's as beautiful and dear as you were as an infant -- and still are. Well, truly, how could he not be?

Sunday, July 02, 2006

The Beach






My favorite moment of our recent trip to our "home" city of Seattle was seeing our son at the beach. We took it for granted when we lived there, and now, we miss it. The moment we drove up to Golden Gardens - where we held our wedding rehearsal dinner just 5 years go - Jackson shrieks out "The beach! The beach!" It was a golden moment, to be certain. He then proceeds to run past the colorful playground area straight to the waters edge. I had smartly put water shoes on him but did not expect him to plop his hiney into the frigid Pacific waters. But that is precisely what he did. Plop! Clothes and all. He loved the cool water running over his legs. The waves lapping at the shore. The seagulls screeching hello. The kids playing in the sand in bathing suits and pull-over sweatshirts. That's the Pacific Northwest. And I miss it. We all do. Yes, home is here now I suppose, and it's a good life to be certain. But seeing my son so at home on the beach, it makes me have to wonder...