As I sit here, after Shabbat dinner, with a fire blazing in the fireplace and a full tummy, the house is quiet. Don't get me wrong - Milo is definitely running after Nate at high speeds, following him wherever he goes. But he's doing it so silently, and the only thing I can hear is his heavy breathing (his nose has been a little stuffy).
I caught the boys snuggling in the other room, and heard Nate telling Milo tenderly, "Milo, you're my favorite little boy in the whole world."
So I'm teary, with not much to say except that I am so blessed.
"I bless God every chance I get; my lungs expand with his praise. I live and breathe God..." (Psalm 34:1-2a)
Friday, November 30, 2012
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Confession time
I have a confession to make.
My son likes boobies.
And by boobies, I do mean blueberries. Remember the good old days when he called them boo-boo-booies? Apparently he decided to be a little more concise. So now he does things like mention to Alex on Thanksgiving, "Akees, eat boobies." Or tell me in the mornings, "More boobies."
I'm sure you can imagine how this should make me feel. I should be more carefully enunciating each syllable. I should be telling him, "No, Milo, blueberries, not boobies." What I should not be doing is laughing, but that's exactly what I do every single time.
This morning it got even more impossible to keep a straight face, because I made him blueberry pancakes, which he then spent the whole morning referring to as "boobiecakes." I'm sorry, but there's no recovering from that one.
And really, would correcting do any good for this little guy who in response to my, "Okie dokie" today told me, "Mommy, I say dokie dokie."
So boobies it is.
My son likes boobies.
And by boobies, I do mean blueberries. Remember the good old days when he called them boo-boo-booies? Apparently he decided to be a little more concise. So now he does things like mention to Alex on Thanksgiving, "Akees, eat boobies." Or tell me in the mornings, "More boobies."
I'm sure you can imagine how this should make me feel. I should be more carefully enunciating each syllable. I should be telling him, "No, Milo, blueberries, not boobies." What I should not be doing is laughing, but that's exactly what I do every single time.
This morning it got even more impossible to keep a straight face, because I made him blueberry pancakes, which he then spent the whole morning referring to as "boobiecakes." I'm sorry, but there's no recovering from that one.
And really, would correcting do any good for this little guy who in response to my, "Okie dokie" today told me, "Mommy, I say dokie dokie."
So boobies it is.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
New lows in personal hygiene
I found myself in a conversation with myself yesterday that showed me I've sunk to a new low point. It went a little something like this:
"Kathryn Elizabeth Geiger Jackson (it's important to full name yourself, so you know you mean business), I don't care whether you feel well or not. The shower is a safe place to puke, after all. You don't have to wash your hair every day, but you do have to take a shower. Every day. No more exceptions."
Yes, it's come to that.
"Kathryn Elizabeth Geiger Jackson (it's important to full name yourself, so you know you mean business), I don't care whether you feel well or not. The shower is a safe place to puke, after all. You don't have to wash your hair every day, but you do have to take a shower. Every day. No more exceptions."
Yes, it's come to that.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Thankful
Well, here it is, the Sunday after Thanksgiving, and not a thankful post in sight. Were you beginning to think me ungrateful? Busy, yes. Overly emotional, definitely. But ungrateful? Absolutely not. I've been welling up so much inside with thankfulness that I couldn't quite get my thoughts together well enough to communicate them. So, if you don't mind, I'd like to give it a try today...
I'm thankful for a husband who is always happy to see me, even when I'm going on three days straight in the same pair of pjs... A man who thinks I'm beautiful no matter what, always makes me laugh, and supports me in the midst of every situation. I don't talk enough about him on my blog, mostly because it makes him uncomfortable, but Nathan Allen Jackson is the most incredible man I have ever known. Last night I was a little irritated, telling him, "I'm only 10 1/2 weeks pregnant and I'm already showing," to which he replied, "I know, and I love it."
I'm thankful for my sweet Milo, a little bundle of energy, completely enveloped in such a sweet disposition. Milo is like a tiny little Nate, which means I'm twice blessed, and he inherited his daddy's sense of humor. The other day I was changing his diaper and he somehow got some diaper cream on his finger and put it into his mouth. I made a huge fuss of it, telling him how gross that was and how we don't put those things in our mouths. He told me, as plain as day, "Tastes good to me!" This morning we were reading a book that had a little family of skunks crossing the street. He pointed them out, and I asked him, "What are they doing, Milo?" I fully expected him to say, "Walking," or to perhaps count them (yes, he counts). Instead he told me, "Being stinky." If I could bottle up Milo's sunshine and hand it out, no one would ever be sad again.
I'm thankful for this new sprout that has me thinking of new baby names, looking at baby girl clothes (just in case), and being completely un-ladylike. I'm burping at all hours of the day and night and having such an issue brushing my teeth without puking that I can smell my breath at all times. But when I think of so many people who can't have kids, or who have lost them, I realize that feeling sick means that I know at all times that my little sprout is healthy and strong, growing separate fingers and toes and perfect little ears and becoming exactly what Yahweh intended for our family. Talk about a miracle.
I'm thankful for my family. For a mom who spent most of her life tenderly caring for some pretty amazing (I might be a little biased) kids. For a mother-in-law (whom I really consider just my second mom) who is so wonderful and knows just the right time to text me and brighten my day. For sisters (and sister-in-laws) who share advice, clothes, tears, and laughter (and who will vacuum my house, go to the store for me, and bathe my child when I just can't get up). For a brother who terrorized me the first half of his life, worried me the second half, and is now growing up to be quite an impressive man, and for brother-in-laws who feel more like protective big brothers that have looked out for me my whole life. For nieces and nephews who are brilliant, precious, and special, each in their own ways. For all my extended family and friends who make me feel surounded with love wherever I go.
I'm thankful for a budget that has taught me that everything I need is always provided for, and saved me the time of pining for things I don't have.
I'm thankful for cool weather and the scent of Fall that I catch here and there outside.
I'm thankful for knitting projects and new yarn.
I'm thankful for Bingo on the iPad, although I will admit, Nate and I should never set foot in a casino.
I'm thankful for this gorgeous time with my family on Thanksgiving, everyone tucked in to my cozy living room. Ann and Matt were in from Houston. Mikey was in from College Station. My Dants were in from Colorado. We were all together and I couldn't decide whether to weep or laugh or just sit back and soak it in (I did a bit of all of them). We had seven little Indians, who went on a feather scavenger hunt in the yard to make headdresses (I bought the feathers - don't be concerned. My mother never let me pick up bird feathers my entire childhood, mentioning the myriad of bacteria to be found on them, and I've continued the tradition into my adulthood). Lily ended up with the most feathers, so she told Conner, "I have the most feathers, so I'm the Indian chief." Conner calmly replied, "No, it makes you the turkey."
I am thankful. I am most certainly very thankful.
I'm thankful for a husband who is always happy to see me, even when I'm going on three days straight in the same pair of pjs... A man who thinks I'm beautiful no matter what, always makes me laugh, and supports me in the midst of every situation. I don't talk enough about him on my blog, mostly because it makes him uncomfortable, but Nathan Allen Jackson is the most incredible man I have ever known. Last night I was a little irritated, telling him, "I'm only 10 1/2 weeks pregnant and I'm already showing," to which he replied, "I know, and I love it."
I'm thankful for my sweet Milo, a little bundle of energy, completely enveloped in such a sweet disposition. Milo is like a tiny little Nate, which means I'm twice blessed, and he inherited his daddy's sense of humor. The other day I was changing his diaper and he somehow got some diaper cream on his finger and put it into his mouth. I made a huge fuss of it, telling him how gross that was and how we don't put those things in our mouths. He told me, as plain as day, "Tastes good to me!" This morning we were reading a book that had a little family of skunks crossing the street. He pointed them out, and I asked him, "What are they doing, Milo?" I fully expected him to say, "Walking," or to perhaps count them (yes, he counts). Instead he told me, "Being stinky." If I could bottle up Milo's sunshine and hand it out, no one would ever be sad again.
I'm thankful for this new sprout that has me thinking of new baby names, looking at baby girl clothes (just in case), and being completely un-ladylike. I'm burping at all hours of the day and night and having such an issue brushing my teeth without puking that I can smell my breath at all times. But when I think of so many people who can't have kids, or who have lost them, I realize that feeling sick means that I know at all times that my little sprout is healthy and strong, growing separate fingers and toes and perfect little ears and becoming exactly what Yahweh intended for our family. Talk about a miracle.
I'm thankful for my family. For a mom who spent most of her life tenderly caring for some pretty amazing (I might be a little biased) kids. For a mother-in-law (whom I really consider just my second mom) who is so wonderful and knows just the right time to text me and brighten my day. For sisters (and sister-in-laws) who share advice, clothes, tears, and laughter (and who will vacuum my house, go to the store for me, and bathe my child when I just can't get up). For a brother who terrorized me the first half of his life, worried me the second half, and is now growing up to be quite an impressive man, and for brother-in-laws who feel more like protective big brothers that have looked out for me my whole life. For nieces and nephews who are brilliant, precious, and special, each in their own ways. For all my extended family and friends who make me feel surounded with love wherever I go.
I'm thankful for a budget that has taught me that everything I need is always provided for, and saved me the time of pining for things I don't have.
I'm thankful for cool weather and the scent of Fall that I catch here and there outside.
I'm thankful for knitting projects and new yarn.
I'm thankful for Bingo on the iPad, although I will admit, Nate and I should never set foot in a casino.
I'm thankful for this gorgeous time with my family on Thanksgiving, everyone tucked in to my cozy living room. Ann and Matt were in from Houston. Mikey was in from College Station. My Dants were in from Colorado. We were all together and I couldn't decide whether to weep or laugh or just sit back and soak it in (I did a bit of all of them). We had seven little Indians, who went on a feather scavenger hunt in the yard to make headdresses (I bought the feathers - don't be concerned. My mother never let me pick up bird feathers my entire childhood, mentioning the myriad of bacteria to be found on them, and I've continued the tradition into my adulthood). Lily ended up with the most feathers, so she told Conner, "I have the most feathers, so I'm the Indian chief." Conner calmly replied, "No, it makes you the turkey."
I am thankful. I am most certainly very thankful.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Wake up
It's been a bittersweet weekend. Beautiful moments with my family, and the heartbreak of losing a special woman and the sister of my dear friend. I'm having trouble putting it all together and processing it, so I'm sure you'll hear more about it in the days to come. Right now I just want to show you how Milo woke up today from his nap.
Happy as all get out, and with a nice case of bedhead. It's moments like these that I especially cherish.
Happy as all get out, and with a nice case of bedhead. It's moments like these that I especially cherish.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Bedtime prayers
Milo said his first all-by-himself bedtime prayer the night before last. Nothing too fancy. Just this:
"Wah-way, gangkgoo for day. Hep the food. In Shua's name, ahhhhhhhmen!"
Okay, I know. It was more of a mealtime prayer. Or maybe he meant to help the food stay in mommy's tummy, which was a much-needed request. Either way, Nate and I were so proud we had to choke back tears. Watching kids grow up is amazing and heart-wrenching at the same time.
"Wah-way, gangkgoo for day. Hep the food. In Shua's name, ahhhhhhhmen!"
Okay, I know. It was more of a mealtime prayer. Or maybe he meant to help the food stay in mommy's tummy, which was a much-needed request. Either way, Nate and I were so proud we had to choke back tears. Watching kids grow up is amazing and heart-wrenching at the same time.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Check, check, check
Here's how you know you are really and truly pregnant (well, aside from peeing on a little stick or seeing your doctor...):
1. You spend 20 minutes weeping over a Pinterest pin of the 40 most powerful photos of all times.
2. You then try to distract yourself by moving to another room and end up crying over your son's two little shoes lying by the door where he took them off himself.
3. You spend days unable to choke down anything more than mashed potatoes and ginger ale, and then find yourself eating four crispy tacos (with beans instead of meat) from Taco Bell at 10:00 at night.
4. You can smell your dogs wherever they are. Even when they're outside.
5. Simple tasks like throwing in a load of laundry become daunting, and spending an hour playing Bingo on the iPad trumps every other activity.
6. Even thinking about going to the freezer to take out some chicken to thaw literally makes you run to the bathroom and puke.
7. Your cheeks are sunken in while your stomach has given up and rounded out at 9 weeks (muscle memory sucks).
8. Texas-shaped tortilla chips taste better than almost anything.
9. One minute you're alert, and then you're startled awake several hours later.
10. Did you forget about the crying? Because sure enough, you'll be all emotional about something any second now...
Okay, checked the list, and all 10 are accurate. Oh my word, guys. I think I'm pregnant!
1. You spend 20 minutes weeping over a Pinterest pin of the 40 most powerful photos of all times.
2. You then try to distract yourself by moving to another room and end up crying over your son's two little shoes lying by the door where he took them off himself.
3. You spend days unable to choke down anything more than mashed potatoes and ginger ale, and then find yourself eating four crispy tacos (with beans instead of meat) from Taco Bell at 10:00 at night.
4. You can smell your dogs wherever they are. Even when they're outside.
5. Simple tasks like throwing in a load of laundry become daunting, and spending an hour playing Bingo on the iPad trumps every other activity.
6. Even thinking about going to the freezer to take out some chicken to thaw literally makes you run to the bathroom and puke.
7. Your cheeks are sunken in while your stomach has given up and rounded out at 9 weeks (muscle memory sucks).
8. Texas-shaped tortilla chips taste better than almost anything.
9. One minute you're alert, and then you're startled awake several hours later.
10. Did you forget about the crying? Because sure enough, you'll be all emotional about something any second now...
Okay, checked the list, and all 10 are accurate. Oh my word, guys. I think I'm pregnant!
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Milo lingo
One of the funnest things about having an almost-two year old is listening to the new words and phrases he comes up with every day. Like, all of a sudden, he's referring to himself as "me." Today he told me "cars racing" as he moved them all over the table. We looked at pictures from the other day and he literally said, "Daddy, me, bow ties." And the other day he completely astounded me when we looked at a colors book and he said every one, including gray (he previously only said blue and red).
Yep, he's a clever one, that Milo. But I love that he still calls Bruiser "Zoozies," his feet "feeps," and the color red "za." Hanging out with Milo is a trip for sure. I'm thinking a video is going to be in order really soon...
Yep, he's a clever one, that Milo. But I love that he still calls Bruiser "Zoozies," his feet "feeps," and the color red "za." Hanging out with Milo is a trip for sure. I'm thinking a video is going to be in order really soon...
Monday, November 12, 2012
A perfect mix
I always knew Milo would be a sensitive kid, because both Nate and I were (and still are). He recently started really grasping what emotions mean, and as we read a book about a fire truck this morning, I pointed out that he was sad. Poor Milo was heartbroken for this poor truck, telling me, "Mommy, fire cup (truck) sad." He then proceeded to hold the book to his cheek, make kissing sounds, and tell the truck, "Ay-kay, cup. Ay-kay." (Okay, truck.) My heart completely melted, and I had to gulp down tears and pray that he would always be sensitive to others and want to make them okay.
And then, of course, five minutes later he was building block towers and knocking them down as he laughed, so at least we know he's a good mix of sensitive and tough, right?
And then, of course, five minutes later he was building block towers and knocking them down as he laughed, so at least we know he's a good mix of sensitive and tough, right?
Look at my boys, all ready for a "hats and ties" tea party birthday celebration. |
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Cozy up
I remember caring a lot about pajamas when I was younger. I know for a fact that my mom dressed us in footie blanket sleepers until we were well into elementary school, and thank goodness. We grew up in the North, and there's nothing worse first thing in the morning than warm feet on a cold floor. Anyway, something happened around high school or college, and I think it was the fact that people started wearing their pajamas out in public, and they just didn't seem special anymore.
Fast forward a number of years to the precious Dantlets, who rocked pjs, slippers, and robes on a regular basis, and I decided that sleepwear was cool again (mainly for small children). And then came Milo, who wears a pair of footies more adorably than anyone I've ever seen. You know about the Cars slippers that he wears faithfully, and we bought him some big boy, two-piece pajamas with no feet. All he needs now is a robe and he's well on his way to becoming a sleepwear model. He's had lots of practice recently - we've been staying in pjs most of the day lately thanks to the little Sprout!
Fast forward a number of years to the precious Dantlets, who rocked pjs, slippers, and robes on a regular basis, and I decided that sleepwear was cool again (mainly for small children). And then came Milo, who wears a pair of footies more adorably than anyone I've ever seen. You know about the Cars slippers that he wears faithfully, and we bought him some big boy, two-piece pajamas with no feet. All he needs now is a robe and he's well on his way to becoming a sleepwear model. He's had lots of practice recently - we've been staying in pjs most of the day lately thanks to the little Sprout!
Just so you know, Nate is standing mere inches from Milo here - I don't just stand him up on the table and hope for the best... |
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Fresh perspective
I know I've admitted this on the blog before, but when I'm having a rough time, I tend to go on hiatus in every area of my life. I try to disappear until things are going better and I have something to offer again. Have you noticed a little absence here on the blog? I can't lie. It's been an extra-rough bad time, and what felt like the worst part is that I'm supposed to be happy about it.
Do you remember when I was pregnant with Milo? I puked from 8 weeks right on through the entire second trimester (just FYI, most people stop between weeks 12 and 14), lost weight instead of gaining, and spent an entire summer (after I was finished teaching summer school) locked in my house. It was a pretty bad time.
Bad doesn't even begin to explain how the last two weeks have gone, though (And honestly, has it only been two weeks? It feels like it's been forever). Not only have I puked all day and all evening, I've been completely unable to sleep, sometimes puking 6 or 7 times a night until I finally gave in and took a Zofran. But unlike pregnancy with Milo, Zofran hasn't even helped - just left me dry-heaving instead of bringing anything up. I haven't been able to eat anything more than mashed potatoes and ginger ale, which makes me barely energetic enough to roll over, so I've lain in the recliner almost non-stop, lethargically praying that Milo will completely forget this time in both of our lives ever existed. Which brings me to the topper - last time, I just had me to worry about, and if I wanted to lie in bed crying all day, that was my business. This time, I've got a little man who needs attention, love, and to have his diaper changed... It's been discouraging to say the very least.
And then yesterday happened. I'd been up most of the night again, but was trying so hard to wake up with a positive attitude. I had a doctor's appointment at 10 and needed to at least be able to get myself out of the house without collapsing. Nate went with me because it was ultrasound day, and when we finally made it to the waiting room, I breathed a sigh of relief. By the time we got back to the room, I felt so completely peaceful, and when we saw that little baby's heartbeat, something inside me clicked. I might be sick, but it hasn't been without purpose. I'm growing a tiny little sprout that will be here next summer, a perfect little mix of Nate and I. I'm making one of the most precious gifts I can ever give to Milo - a sibling. And for goodness' sake, as wonderful as Milo is, I should be planning to have at least a few more, right? (Well, let's not get crazy. For now, one more should do.)
So all this to say, a little change in perspective can make all the difference. I'm going to keep writing on my blog, through the good days and the bad. I'm going to try to have a positive attitude, but not be afraid to be a little messy every now and then. And I'm going to just be thankful that this time will pass quickly and bring a brand new day.
Do you remember when I was pregnant with Milo? I puked from 8 weeks right on through the entire second trimester (just FYI, most people stop between weeks 12 and 14), lost weight instead of gaining, and spent an entire summer (after I was finished teaching summer school) locked in my house. It was a pretty bad time.
Bad doesn't even begin to explain how the last two weeks have gone, though (And honestly, has it only been two weeks? It feels like it's been forever). Not only have I puked all day and all evening, I've been completely unable to sleep, sometimes puking 6 or 7 times a night until I finally gave in and took a Zofran. But unlike pregnancy with Milo, Zofran hasn't even helped - just left me dry-heaving instead of bringing anything up. I haven't been able to eat anything more than mashed potatoes and ginger ale, which makes me barely energetic enough to roll over, so I've lain in the recliner almost non-stop, lethargically praying that Milo will completely forget this time in both of our lives ever existed. Which brings me to the topper - last time, I just had me to worry about, and if I wanted to lie in bed crying all day, that was my business. This time, I've got a little man who needs attention, love, and to have his diaper changed... It's been discouraging to say the very least.
And then yesterday happened. I'd been up most of the night again, but was trying so hard to wake up with a positive attitude. I had a doctor's appointment at 10 and needed to at least be able to get myself out of the house without collapsing. Nate went with me because it was ultrasound day, and when we finally made it to the waiting room, I breathed a sigh of relief. By the time we got back to the room, I felt so completely peaceful, and when we saw that little baby's heartbeat, something inside me clicked. I might be sick, but it hasn't been without purpose. I'm growing a tiny little sprout that will be here next summer, a perfect little mix of Nate and I. I'm making one of the most precious gifts I can ever give to Milo - a sibling. And for goodness' sake, as wonderful as Milo is, I should be planning to have at least a few more, right? (Well, let's not get crazy. For now, one more should do.)
So all this to say, a little change in perspective can make all the difference. I'm going to keep writing on my blog, through the good days and the bad. I'm going to try to have a positive attitude, but not be afraid to be a little messy every now and then. And I'm going to just be thankful that this time will pass quickly and bring a brand new day.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Dear Nonnie...
Dear Nonnie,
Mommy said that if she has twins, you and Auntie Jen are coming to live with us. Sounds like a plan to me!
Love,
Milo
Mommy said that if she has twins, you and Auntie Jen are coming to live with us. Sounds like a plan to me!
Love,
Milo
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