It's Been Awhile

Time for an update from us! Anyone still out there reading? I do follow and read all of your blogs, I'm just a terrible commenter. I always promise to be better...maybe someday. Like when the kids are in school.

So here's what's new with us:

Jack:
Jack is now 2.5. Crazy! Wasn't he just born? Wasn't I just going through all the infertility garbage? I was recently talking to a friend with similar struggles of a long cycle/luteal phase defect and she asked what meds I took to help it and I literally couldn't remember all of them or the doses. That was my life for years! Infertility felt so all-consuming for so long - I was sure I'd never forget any of it. And while I definitely still remember the hurt and frustration (and I ALWAYS try to be sensitive to infertility situations), I guess some of the gritty details are fading.

Anyway...that was a rabbit trail...Jack is still amazing. He's fun, hilarious, energetic, sweet, and silly. He's also stubborn, whiny and can throw a temper tantrum with the best of them. It's a fine line these days - but I think that's called being a two year old.

He's always been a really good talker. At his 18 month appointment, I brought in the list of his words I kept on my fridge. It had 75 words. Almost immediately after, he began speaking in sentences most of  the time and it became impossible to track words anymore. At his 2 year appointment when his doctor asked how many words he knew, I said, "I don't know, all of them?" Like tonight, he was running around the center of our house (this is a pretty regular game - we both hold footballs as we run), but since this goes through 3 doorways, the floor changes from carpet to hardwood to tile to carpet. So Jack told me, "I need socks with the little dots so I don't slip and fall." He talks like this all the time, so it doesn't really phase me, but sometimes Bobby and I look at each other and laugh. There are kids his age in our playgroup that still just say "cup?" And we make Jack say "can I have more milk please?" We got lucky. We know.

Speaking of dumb luck, about 3 months ago Jack potty trained himself. Please don't hate me - I was sure I was going to be the mom sending her kindergartener off in diapers. From everything I read and learned in ECFE, potty training "best practices" these days is to just wait until your kid decides they're ready on their own. This apparently leads to fewer accidents and better body control. Since I have maybe the most stubborn kid on the planet, that's what made me think Jack would never just decide to be ready to go on the toilet. But I was hugely pregnant, and other friends assured me that if I tried to train him before baby came, he would just regress after, boys tend to train closer to 3, yadda yadda yadda - mostly it sounded like a lazy parenting strategy and totally up my alley. So we decided to just wait.

And then...cue super stubborn boy...Jack decided he no longer wanted to lie down for diaper changes. I know lots of parents change their kids standing up, but I could not get the hang of it. Every time I did the stand up diaper change, it ended up leaking. Or poop got everywhere. Plus I was super pregnant and my patience was already pretty minimal. So during one of our many diaper change battles when I was wrestling him to the ground and Jack was whining "I don't waaaaaant to lay down" I snapped back, "if you would just go on the big potty you wouldn't have to lay down."

And that was it. He decided right then that he was done with diapers and wanted to go on the big potty. We bought a little potty ring, some big boy underwear (they HAD to be solid color boxer style - just like daddy), and that was it. Not a single accident. I guess those experts were right. When they're ready, it is easy. He's even totally trained for naps and in the 3ish months since he did this, he's only been wet twice overnight. This was totally shocking because just a few nights before, he was wetting through an overnight diaper. Like, I would put him in an overnight diaper, cloth training pants, pj pants, and sleep sack. With all those layers the sleep sack might stay dry. Everything beneath it was wet. We still use a diaper at night because he's still in a crib and we figure that if we're not giving him the option to go on the potty during the night, we should give him a diaper - but with only 2 overnight pees, I think he's basically got it.

Of course that means we still have the HUGE challenge coming up of crib transition. Jack actually can climb out (I had him doing it when I was pregnant and right after my csection), but he's never done it without out us being in the room. Even when he's having a hard time falling asleep at night, he just lays in bed and talks and sings. It's like it doesn't occur to him to get up. Which is super awesome. But I'm pretty sure if he were in a bed, he'd be up constantly. So I'm not really in a hurry to move him. We're thinking maybe when he turns 3 next April - as long as he doesn't figure out how to climb out before then.

I know it totally sounds like I'm bragging about my awesome, easy kid. And while he is awesome, he's definitely not easy. There is A LOT of whining and temper tantrums. It's gotten worse since Milo was born and he gets jealous pretty easily. And since I'm still spending many, many hours a day nursing, Jack gets jealous a lot. He's also learned that if he says he has to go potty (poop especially) I can't call that bluff and pretty much have to stop what I'm doing and help him. Including nursing Milo. It's great that Jack always uses the potty, but since he's still pretty little he can't do any of it himself. He can't pull his pants and underwear down and can't climb on the toilet even with a stool. So it's cheaper and less gross than diapers, but just as time consuming.

Milo:
Milo is almost 4 months old and a little over 15 pounds. He's almost always smiley and happy. Except he doesn't nap. Like ever. It concerns me some - but he's been sleeping through the night since about 6 weeks (again, please don't hate me - but I kinda feel like I earned this one after the sleep nightmare we went through with Jack). Also, since he's about to turn 4 months old, I'm sure there's a regression coming.

He can roll front to back, a skill he picked up early since he's also in physical therapy for torticollis and plagiocephaly. No back to front rolling yet, but he can kick one leg over so he's close.

We go to a weekly (when we make it) weigh in clinic, and with some of Milo's recent fussiness, congestion, dry skin, and occasional greenish poop, the nurse suspected a possible milk allergy. So I'm working on cutting dairy out. Which sucks - not just for me, but because I have a ton of milk in the freezer that I'd be unable to give him. I don't know if I could donate it to anyone, but I will sob if I have to just pour it down the drain. I've thought about trying to give it to Jack - but the few times he's been sick and I thought he could use some extra immunities, he hasn't liked the taste. Sometimes he'll drink it in a really fruity smoothie or blended in something with a stronger flavor. So that's still up in the air.

Me:
Well, I left my former job when Jack was born and stayed home for about 9 months full time. For a little less than a year I tutored at our local public high school. The next year, I worked from home doing online writing tutoring. I liked the work mostly, but hated the company I worked for and the required tutoring format. I also didn't love the online part. I mean, I liked being able to basically set my own hours and work from home (especially since I was early pregnant with Milo and throwing up a ton), but it's hard to explain complex grammar and writing concepts in just a few sentences and send it back having no idea if the student understood or not.

Then, last December the English teacher at the high school where I coached left. Her husband got a new job and they were moving mid school year. They offered me the job and that's what I've been doing since. It's only one class, just a few hours a day. And since they're doing blocked classes now, I again don't start until January - giving me an extra long maternity leave. Milo will be 7 months when I go back, and that makes me feel way better than him being a newborn. Plus I shouldn't even have to leave him a bottle or pump while I'm gone. At least that's the plan.

This is also the second year I'm not coaching volleyball. I do miss it, but it just got to be too much. I feel okay about it, especially since one of my former players is now coaching. She just had 4 amazing years at college - making All American and earning several honors. She definitely made this coach proud. And I'm glad to know my former team is in good hands.

I think I'm done having babies. I always thought I wanted more than 2, but I hate hate hate being pregnant. And our life has taken a chaotic turn adding a second kid. Any more might kill us - at least for awhile. Plus I really love teaching and I'd like to make a go of this career.

We are still hoping to do foster care in the future, but right now we need some time to get our bearings. We've adjusted to 2 kids, and I can successfully take care of them and get them both out the door most of the time. But things like cleaning the house, exercise, sex, etc are getting lost in the shuffle. Things we'd gotten a decent handle on before we had a second kid.

I'm sure things will settle down eventually - especially when Milo stops nursing, or even just nursing less. Also when Jack can go potty independently. He's starting to do other small tasks like get and (attempt to) put on his shoes. All these little things will be helpful, but it's still kinda sad how fast he's growing up.

Well this post is a novel. Sorry! But it's going to have to take the place of 2 kids' baby books.

Life With Two

The thought of adding a second baby to our family terrified me.

I spent most of my pregnancy wondering if we'd made a giant mistake. It was too soon. They'd be too close together. I was too old. My back hurt too much. I didn't want to go through the pain and hassle of breastfeeding for another year. We'd ruin Jack.

Even the first week or so we were home from the hospital, I had these same thoughts. Jack had a bit of a rough time adjusting right away. We were tired and not on top of our parenting game, so we didn't always deal with his tantrums the best. I was hormonal, sore from surgery, exhausted, convinced I wasn't going to bond with Milo (we had a rough hospital stay), and again I worried that this whole second baby thing was a mistake. Or at least poorly timed.

But then there are days like this. Moments like these. Jack knows that Milo doesn't always like tummy time, so Jack lies on his tummy next to Milo and gives him an encouraging pep talk.

And in these moments I think we're going to be okay.

I Had Another Baby

He's here. It's another boy and his name is Milo. He's sweet and cute and looks exactly like Jack did as a newborn.

Someday I'll write his birth story, but honestly a scheduled csection is not that interesting of a story.

He eats like a champ (read: all the time), but the plus side is he sleeps in pretty solid chunks at night. I actually have to get up to pump more than feed. Which isn't my favorite, but it's helping me build a freezer stash and keep up my supply for when his sleep inevitably changes.

Two kids is...different. It's rough a lot of the time. Bobby took 4 weeks off work which is HUGE in helping me with Jack and helping me recover from surgery (especially because I can't lift Jack). But it's exhausting and challenging and the 2 year old totally acts like a 2 year old most of the time. We're dealing with tons of whining and diffusing tantrums all day long. Plus marathon nursing and trying to let my incision and muscles heal.

So we're surviving. It's hard, but it's also very, very good.

Thirty-nine

I'm 39 weeks pregnant. Up nearly 30 pounds. Its 90+ degrees here with over 70% humidity.

C-section is scheduled for Friday morning at 5:30 am.

Pass the castor oil?

A Jumble of Updates

I'm going to get this post written. Even if it kills me. Which it might.

You guys, things are rough. I feel like my life is getting away from me. Like I'm drowning. Like I will never be able to catch up on everything--work, laundry, dishes, putting together a nursery for a second time.

A huge part of this is my own fault. I'm exhausted. Every single day for the last 2.5 months I have taken a nap during Jack's nap. It's ridiculous, because that's really my only free time during the day to get things like laundry and dishes done. But I also feel like if I don't lay down and nap, I'm not going to make it through the afternoon until Bobby gets home. And thus, I feel like everything is piling up, and it's such a struggle to get things done.

This pregnancy has been hard. Really, really hard. In a side-by-side comparison to my pregnancy with Jack, maybe it hasn't been that much worse. But it sure feels like it--for many reasons.

1) I'm older. I know, I'm not even "Advanced Maternal Age" (I'm 28, I'll be 29 when I deliver), but my body feels like it's aged 20 years since my (first) pre-pregnancy body. When this pregnancy is over and I'm recovered, I need to get serious about working out again. I have literally the exact same pre-pregnancy weight as I did with Jack, but I don't understand how. I'm flabby. My eating is out of control. I need to get serious about getting my health back. I'm still playing volleyball 1-2 nights a week (mostly 1, I often skip the non-league night), but that's about it for my exercise. And that is very, very sad.

2) I'm throwing up more. I'm not sure if I'm actually more nauseated, but I'm unable to avoid throwing up when the feeling strikes. And while throwing up in an office bathroom wasn't pleasant, throwing up with a toddler peering over your shoulder and copying your spitting into your hair is worse. I've actually been taking Unisom every night and some B6 during the day, and it's been helping. I mean, sometimes I think it's not, so I skip the Unisom, and every single time I've done that, I've thrown up the next day. So yeah, I think I'm going to be taking Unisom for the next 6 months.

3) The most obvious reason this pregnancy has been harder is because of Jack. While I was nauseated 24/7 last pregnancy too, I combatted it by spending virtually every moment I wasn't working by lying on the couch or sleeping. That's obviously not an option this time, as my parenting work definitely doesn't end at 3 p.m. Bobby comes home around 4 most nights, but he's tired too. He's been picking up a lot of the slack around the house (dishes, laundry, meals), and I know it's not fair to make him be a solo parent from the moment he gets home. But honestly, he does it a lot of nights while I sit on the couch and try not to throw up.

And yes, I feel awful complaining about all of this. This is seriously miracle pregnancy #2 for me, and I'm being so terrible about it. I'm sorry. You can hate me if you want. Most days I hate myself anyway.

I need to post more often because I have a million things I need to write about (and attempt to keep track of this pregnancy somewhere!), but I just have one thing I need to get all of your opinions about. Most of you that still read this have had miscarriages. I'm sorry you're all part of that unfortunate group, but I'm hoping because of your past, you can give me some insight into a difficult dilemma I'm having.

This past year, my cousin had a miscarriage. We're close (she's my only cousin that I've ever met), but my family is not really a "sharing, mushy, talk-it-out"-type family. So I actually only know she had a miscarriage because I heard it through the family grapevine. I don't even know if she knows I know--or any of us, really. She might assume that her mom told my other aunt who told my mom who told me (which they all did), but we've never actually discussed it.

But the fact is, I do know. And I want to be sensitive. BUT...she's not a very emotional person. And in many, many ways I know they weren't ready to have a baby. I'm not even positive they want to have kids...other than they feel like that's what you do in life, you know? Like, they don't really like kids. They complain about the messes and rowdiness when their nieces and nephews come over. Cousin and her Husband are both very independent, a little spoiled, and a little selfish. I honestly don't see them having kids. And apparently they can't really afford it, either (mostly because they both have extremely expensive tastes). They just built a huge 4-bed, 3-bath house. From what I heard, my aunt basically told my mom that the miscarriage was "somewhat of a blessing" because they really couldn't afford a baby right now. Now, that's obviously an awful thing to say, and I REALLY hope she only shared that with my mom and not my cousin. My other aunt (not cousin's mom), had mentioned to me that Cousin and Husband were now trying to work hard to save some money. I'm not sure if that means they're trying again or getting ready to.

All of this to say...how do I handle announcing my pregnancy to them? We almost shared the news at Thanksgiving, but I chickened out. I just couldn't figure out how to do it tactfully. I honestly don't think my cousin will be overly offended or upset. Her sister-in-law had a baby a few months ago, and my cousin has talked a lot about going over and getting baby snuggles in and wanting to be around the baby. So she's not really going in the direction of not wanting to talk about or be around babies.

The big dilemma is that I'm obviously pregnant in our Christmas card (oh yeah, I started showing around 8 weeks this time. Yikes). We're planning to share it on Facebook next week as a way to let our extended family and distant friends know--as this is the same way we announced on Facebook with Jack. Should I text my cousin to share with her first so she's not blindsided by a Facebook post? Or would that make her feel more uncomfortable--remember, I don't "officially" know about her miscarriage. Secondly, we'll be spending Christmas weekend with my family, including my cousin and husband. This will be the first time we're all together where everyone knows about the new baby. I'm sure it'll be somewhat talked about (we're the only couple with kids). But I obviously don't want to make a huge deal about it and make her feel bad. She loves Jack, so I'm kind of hoping that Christmas will center around him and his excitement this year.

I know this is a mess and not worded well or polished at all, but I need to get this out there and get some thoughts. What would you do?

Also...so I remember someday: I'm 13 weeks pregnant. Up 4-5ish pounds, but already with a noticeable bump. I'm wearing mostly maternity clothes because my pants got instantly uncomfortable and my shirts stopped being an appropriate length. My boobs (which were sadly very low and deflated post-breastfeeding) are enormous, perky, and painful. I haven't thrown up since last Tuesday. I'm craving burgers like you would not believe (could be contributing to the pants not fitting...) and I haven't gotten anywhere near 10,000 steps in the last 3 months.

Once Again

Right around two years ago, I was in early pregnancy with Jack. Despite the fact that he was this miracle natural conception after two years of infertility, Bobby and I somehow got on the subject of our "other, future children." As if having them was going to be easy. And we'd get to choose when and how.

I think it was Dr. G who casually asked during one of my early appointments if this would be our only child, or if we'd want others. I sort of laughed it off at the time (polite smile, shoulder shrug, casual indifference: "We might like another someday, but we're happy with this one right now.") Dr. G then said that a lot of women say that, but then somewhere around six months, when their baby starts looking less like a baby a more like a child, they get baby fever and want another.

I told this to Bobby. I said I had my doubts, especially because pregnancy was totally kicking my butt at the time. But I also made him promise, that no matter what I said or thought I wanted at sixth months postpartum, we were NOT going to have another baby that soon.

At my six-week postpartum checkup, Dr. G and I had the birth control talk. I almost laughed out loud when he asked what we were currently using for birth control. Uh, how about a baby that never sleeps? Nipples that feel like they’ve been run through a paper shredder? The endless bottles and pump parts that need washing? Or how about that massive incision and Frankenstein stiches across my stomach!?! Instead, I politely said, “We plan to use condoms.” He said, “Great,” and we all moved on. 

At six months postpartum, Jack was not sleeping. Like, ever. I did not get baby fever. Bobby asked about it briefly, and we decided we’d assess the second kid situation when Jack turned one.

That ended up being a very brief conversation. Bobby asked my thoughts, and I said that while I did want Jack to have a sibling, I wasn’t ready. I had been pregnant for nine months. I breastfed for a year. I needed a little time for my body to just be my own. I was finally feeling like I was hitting my stride with motherhood. We were having more good days than bad. Jack was fun. He was walking and running and climbing. It was getting nice outside, and I was excited to start jogging with him in the stroller. I was excited to take him to the park. I was excited to go to the beach and get out his kiddie pool. I just wasn’t ready to be pregnant.

But then a few months passed. I started seeing pregnancy announcements from many of the moms who were pregnant the same time as I was with Jack. I started feeling left behind. I started having those infertility doubts—what if it takes us another two years? Shouldn’t we start now then? Shouldn’t we have another baby while ours is still “baby-ish”? While we still sort of remember what it’s like to have a newborn. Before Jack is totally done with naps and wanting to be out and on the go all the time. Before I’m 30 and my back is so damaged it could never support another pregnancy.

So a few months ago, we stopped using condoms. My periods were regular, 28-day cycles. I wasn’t temping or charting or using OPKs. We were doing this the real old fashioned way. We dared to think that we were normal.

At the beginning of September, right around when my period was due, Bobby and I both got sick. Like, sinus infections, flu, allergies, anything else you could throw at us at the same time sick. We begged my parents to take Jack for three hours on a Saturday so we could just sleep and relax. Because, oh yeah, Jack somehow skipped being one and jumped head first into terrible twos (soooooo much whining!!!). I was so worried I was pregnant. I lay on the couch begging my period to come. Repeating to Bobby over and over that I could not do this. I could not handle being this sick and having ONE kid. There was no way I could do this with two.

Mercifully, my period showed up the next day. I have never been so thrilled to be in so much pain.

We recovered from the sickness from hell, but forgot to buy more condoms. I don’t even know how to write this next part. I think my infertility card is officially going to revoked. I’m—once again—that girl. The girl that after having one baby is somehow fertile. So fertile, that in a month where she had unprotected sex exactly twice, without monitoring any sort of ovulation, managed to get pregnant.

I’m pregnant.

Somewhere around five weeks.

I’m not totally sure how I feel about it yet.

I’m excited about the idea. I do want another baby, please don’t get me wrong. But I have reservations. I’m nervous because I know how much I hated being pregnant. I’m not looking forward to morning sickness kicking in and lasting for 17 weeks. I’m not excited about the pregnancy rhinitis that sucked the life out of me last time around. I’m worried about how my back is going to hold up. I’m nervous about another c-section recovery—this time with a two-year-old. I’m equally nervous about attempting a VBAC. I’m worried about how this is going to affect Jack.

Part of me is still really pessimistic. I’ve been urging Bobby to not get to excited until at least after the 7-week ultrasound. I’ll feel better after hearing the heartbeat at 12 weeks. I wasn’t careful this time. I haven’t been taking prenatal vitamins (for two years) like I was the first time. I’ve been guzzling caffeine lately. I don’t even remember all the “right” things I should/shouldn’t be doing because I wasn’t ready for it to happen this fast.

Well, I feel a little better getting this typed out and sent into the universe. I’ve actually suspected I was pregnant for a little over a week, but I finally took the test yesterday and told Bobby. I guess part of me wasn’t ready for it to be real yet.

But a bigger part of me is ready. Jack is going to be the best big brother to this little person. Bobby’s already an amazing dad—and he was actually way more excited by the news than I thought (I think he’s actually wanted another baby for a while, but he wasn’t going to voice that opinion while I didn’t).

If you need to unfollow me, I totally understand (if anyone is even still out there reading, since I'm a terrible poster these days). I guess I’m THAT girl again. I’m pregnant with Baby #2.

One

I'm finally posting this on the day that Jack turns 13 months, but I figure since it's also Mother's Day, it's sort of symbolic. And also I'm a terrible blogger. (Ha, case in point. I had this scheduled to go out on Sunday. For some reason it didn't. This is my life right now.)

Jack is one. I can hardly believe it. I know every mom says that, but it's so crazy that just a year ago he was still inside my tummy. As he was playing with little plastic eggs this Easter, I remembered that last Easter I was a big round blob on my couch. Bobby and I didn't even travel to see my family like we always do because I was too uncomfortable. Even though I was still two weeks from my due date, Jack was born only four days later. Everything has felt like that recently. There's been so much of "Last year, this was my last day of work" (Apr 3), or "At this moment last year, my water broke in the hospital parking lot" (Apr 8, 4:30 p.m.) or "Last year, I took our tiny newborn to Bobby's first softball tournament of the season, and now he's running around on his own" (first weekend in May) or "Last year at my first sand volleyball game, I was so nervous to dive and split my stiches back open." (6 weeks ppd)

We had a small birthday party for Jack - just my parents and two of our close couple friends and their two kids. It was totally a Pinterest party with handmade decorations, a full themed buffet of delicious, homemade food, and a ton of fun party games! Just kidding...did you forget who's blog you're reading? We ordered Pizza Hut and I managed to scrounge together some chips and make boxed cupcakes. And Jack couldn't have been happier.

On to the stats:
Size
At his 12-month appointment, Jack was 23.9 pounds and 29.75 inches. He's in mostly 12 month clothes, occasionally some 9 month pants, since he has short legs. But his 12 months pjs are getting stretched to their limit, so we may be heading in the 18 month direction. He's in size 5 diapers, and can still manage to leak through overnight diapers and soak his jammies nightly. I don't complain too much, since he sleeps close to 12 hours a night now.

Sleep
Speaking of sleep - sleep is good! There was a point in my life where I thought I would never sleep again. At least not for any substantial length of time. I mean, I'm still tired a lot of the time, and when Bobby asked what I wanted for Mother's Day, I said (without hesitation) "a really long nap," but I get 7-8 hours most nights (if I go to bed at a decent hour). Jack is somewhere in the 2-1 nap transition. Like today, he slept until 8:30 a.m. So I put him down for his nap at 12:15 p.m. He babbled and rolled around in his crib til 12:30. He should get a couple hours in and make it til bedtime. BUT...often on one nap days, he needs a slightly earlier bedtime, which means he'll probably wake up earlier tomorrow morning, which means he'll need 2 naps...but on 2 naps, he has a later bedtime and tends to sleep in a little bit. So...you can see the endless circle. Obviously one solution would be to wake him up at the same time every morning. But on days that I work, it's kind of nice to be able to get ready without someone tugging on my leg the whole time. And on days I don't work, I can also sleep in a bit, or enjoy my breakfast by myself. So, we're in nap transition limbo. And for right now, it works. I'm a big fan of not fixing what isn't broken.

Movement
Jack's been walking completely on his own since 10ish months, and occasionally runs. Especially towards people's knee caps or collar bones (if sitting on the floor), which he loves to headbutt at full speed. I often get comments about how well he gets around for his age. He's the only one in our Baby and Me class that can walk - though he is a month or so older than all the other kids - but he was walking at their age.

Language
He has a handful of words: mama, dada, ball (bop), duck (dut), up, banana (nana), diaper, moo (when he sees a picture of a cow), bubbles, dog, and cottage cheese (this is my favorite. It's so cute. It's generally only one he'll repeat, not say on his own, and it comes out like "cot cheese" but it's freaking adorable). He'll also repeat "brush teeth" if we say it first. He'll also say "pu-pu-pu-pu" when he sees a picture of a pig, so I'm guessing that one is close. There may be a few more I'm forgetting, but those are the ones he uses consistently.

Likes
He loves books. While we play in the living room, he constantly picks up books and brings them over to me and climbs on my lap. It's very sweet and makes this English major very proud. My parents got him a quiet book for his birthday, so he loves to play with all the snaps and hooks on it. He can't do everything, but I love these and I think it's a toy that will grow with him (and maybe keep him quiet someday in the car/restaurants/church without the use of electronics? I can dream!).

Jack loves watching cars out the window and playing outside. We're hoping to fence in our backyard this summer, which would give him more freedom, and I wouldn't have to be right on top of him - trying to convince him not to run and grab the neighbors firepit or kick his ball into the street.

Growth
I did take monthly photos, but I never posted them here since I was nowhere near getting around to posting every month. So here's a big dump of all of them. I printed them and attached to scrapbook paper and hung on our wall above his high chair for Jack's birthday. Everyone loved looking at them, and they're actually still up. Eventually they should make their way into his baby book...but I'm about as good about updating that as I am at posting here. It's crazy to see how much he's grown and changed in the last year, and I kind of like to be able to look at little tiny Mr. Burns Jack every day.

(tapping fingers together) "Excellent"

 

This was the best I got this month. He was too enthralled in the bear.

 

On his first birthday. What a little boy - definitely not a baby anymore!

And since it's FINALLY spring here in Minnesota, our cherry tree has blossomed. That always calls for a photoshoot in this house.

That little tongue. He does EVERYTHING with his tongue out.

My two favorite boys