Eagle eyes

This morning we were getting Nate ready for school, and I had put Jack in the bouncy seat for the first time. As I'm putting Nate's shoes on, he points and says "Baby fall!"

I look over, and Jack's hanging halfway out of the seat, head first. He's cool as a cucumber, just dangling over the edge.

Nice save, Natey.

Photos, at last!

Thanks to my wonderful husband for the first, most beautiful photo.

Jack River, just a few hours old:



A very proud big brother:



What else does a person need?

A non-post

I want to write about my new son Jack, and how he sleeps all day and eats all night, and how he's very small and peanut-ey to me. And to show some pictures and maybe even try to compare how he looks with how his brother looks.

I want to write about my older son Nate, and how he is breaking my heart with his goodness and sweetness and love towards Jack, and how he asks "Baby okay?" when Jack cries, and how he holds him really gently and touches his hands. I want to find some possible way to express my love for this kid who smiles and laughs and dances and teases me while we wait to see his pediatrician who tells us that he has a horrible ear infection, "globules" in his throat, and "just a little bit" of pneumonia.

I want to write how it's hard to sit down and write while you have a cathetar and a bag of pee strapped to your leg, and it seems crazy that it stops me from writing but it does and who knows why?

I want to write about contractions, and how they do feel like menstrual cramps, but only if menstrual cramps now feel like a burning fire in the uterus that doesn't stop and just keeps going and going no matter what you do.

Maybe I can write it all when the bag of pee is gone. Maybe I'll find words for my life. Today I sat in the recliner and nursed Jack while Stewart and my Mom played marbles with Nate on the floor and Nate kept grinning up at me and asking me questions and getting up to dance and I just don't think I will ever find the words.

Not so tough.

I'm all about being strong and forcing Nate to tough certain situations out by himself, but please tell me which Mama can resist going in, even at 4:27 am, when their child is moaning "Mama, help me. Mama, help ME."

Not this Mama, anyway.

Easier than ordering a pizza. Seriously.

It just took me one phone call to schedule the ritual bris of my son. I'm looking at my cell phone and the call took less than two minutes, including small talk and chuckling about Leah and her tribe of Israel.

He asked: when is the baby due?

I said: C-section on the 23rd

He said: Okay, so Friday the 30th. What time would you like?

I said: How about 11?

He said: Great! Call me after the dust settles and we'll confirm.

It really didn't take much longer than that. Very weird.

Comparison time

I'm 39 weeks now, so I thought I'd take a second to compare these two pregnancies. Every parent of older children that I talk with lately seems to have forgotten everything and I'm sure I'll follow suit, probably within days. So here goes:

Weight gain with Nate: 27 pounds
Weight gain with Turkey (so far): 24 pounds

Swelling with Nate: lots. Feet like bread loaves, shins that dented in, puffy face.
Swelling with Turkey: very little. Swollen feet at the end of very long days.

Belly shape with Nate: huge round basketball.
Belly shape with Turkey: huge round basketball.

Discomforts with Nate: he lived in my right ribs. I spent most of my time with my hand pushing him down off of my ribs. Could barely sit up for the last four weeks.
Discomforts with Turkey: he lives on my bladder. I'm up twice a night to pee, and I spend most of the day in the potty. Feel pretty good in the last four weeks!

Labor progress with Nate: none. Never dialated, never effaced, no contractions (other than Braxton Hicks)
Labor progress with Turkey (so far): none. Never dialated, never effeaced, no contractions (other than many Braxon Hicks)

That's all I can think of!

House renovations - complete!

We've been doing a ton of work on the house, and we're just about done! A friend asked me to post up some photos, so here goes:

Living room view from the dining room, before knocking down walls or decorating:



Living room view from the dining room, after knocking down walls and decorating:




Living room / dining room, before knocking down the walls:



Living room / dining room, after knocking down the walls but before decorating:



Living room / dining room, after decorating!




Dining room wall, after pulling plaster off of the bricks (no before shot available):




Kitchen before painting:



Kitchen after painting:




Other view, after construction before decorating:



Other view, after decorating:



The final touch was the Flor tiles that we put down for the living room carpet. We spend so much more time down there, rolling around with Nate than we ever did before. Thrilled!

Monthly Newsletter, Two Years Two Months

Dear Nate,

This month I don't really need to write this newsletter. I just need to direct everyone to the chapter called "The Toddler Years: Your Two Year Old" and they'll know just about everything that's going on with you. You are stubborn and willful, fun and engaging, talking up a storm, and generally kicking my ass.

But since this is the last newsletter I'll ever write to my only child, I'll put in a little effort. Your little brother is due in two weeks, and I imagine there's going to be an appreciable slacking off of these newsletters, though I do promise to try to keep up.



First off, your talking is really exploding. You're all about the adjectives this month: dirty, clean, wet, hot, cold, YUCKY. You do not like dirty. "Clean, Mama! Clean!" Gotcha, buddy, I'll clean it up. The YUCKY thing is coming in handy - when there's something I don't want you touching, I just tell you it's yucky and you steer really clear. Hands off my "yucky" KitKat, kid.

You are directing and narrating our lives these days, in exquisite detail. Look, Mama! Come, Mama! See, Mama! Today you added "Come'ere! Come'ere!"

My favorite phrases these days:

* I'll get it!
* I do it!
* I did it!
* Okay! (Pronounced okee!)

Every day, you add a letter into the Alphabet song - you've got at least 2/3 of them now. You add in a new word to a song, a new question, a new something. Everyone told us that your language would plod along and then one day it would go crazy. It has.

The other day, our friends came over to go trick or treating with us - Ava and her mama Stacy, and Sophia and her mama Carol. We were having a little pre-outing snack, when baby Ava reached for your milk. Here's what you said, verbatim: "No, baby. Dat's MY milk!" You could have knocked me over. Hysterical.



You and I are doing a lot more fun things together: you help me cook sometimes, stirring or peeling an egg. We play on the floor with blocks a lot, and a few days ago, you asked me "Build a tower, okay Mommy?" Definitely okay, Natey. I really love doing things together with you, and I'm excited that we have so much in front of us: cooking together, crafts, projects. I've got a little stockpile of crafts for when you're older and we can work on them together.



When you see someone you're happy about, you greet them by running into their arms and yelling "Hey, Daddy!" or "Hey, Mama!" You make Grandma so happy when you run wildly to her!

But let's not let all this nice stuff distract from the terror that you've been this past month. Nothing will blot out the memories of the tantrums, the whining, the refusals, the whining, and the crying. The funniest part is how cliche the whole thing is: you throw tantrums because I used the wrong bowl, or the wrong cup, or I put you down in a chair you don't like. Sometimes you're furious because you wanted to do something yourself, and I did it for you. Sometimes you're offended that I asked you to do something yourself, when clearly I should be waiting on you. Sometimes I have absolutely no idea what's wrong. Those are the really fun times.



In the end, though, nothing compares to this: a few days ago, a stomach bug had me throwing up. You came in to me and asked "'k, Mama?" I'm okay, Nate. Always okay as long as you are.

Love,
Mama