What a year. As one of my friends has said, "Welcome to the time of long days and short years." On the one hand, it seems like yesterday. On the other hand - oh man - it seems like a lifetime ago.
I've been trying to wrap my brain around the idea that an entire year has gone by since Jackson was born, and I can't. So since I've had a hard time putting feelings into words, I decided to go back through some of my favorite moments with him (I'm intentionally excluding the not-so-favorite moments, of which there were several - or maybe more like dozens).
As we get ready to celebrate Jackson's birthday, turn up your sound and take a look back on where we have been.
If you'd rather watch the larger version, here it is on YouTube.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
Beef. It's what's for dinner.
Last week we had a heck of a time getting Jackson to eat "beef pilaf" baby food. It took me three meals to stagger beef-and-bananas, beef-and-peas, beef-and-carrots before the pilaf was gone.
He'll eat chicken, he'll eat turkey...and he'll eat just about any vegetable or fruit. But beef? Spits it out. Plants his mouth shut. Yanks off his bib.
Turns out, he was just waiting for the real thing. Watch as Jackson gives a seal of approval during his introduction to Tolley Beef. Note the sound effects. This went on for 25 minutes.
He'll eat chicken, he'll eat turkey...and he'll eat just about any vegetable or fruit. But beef? Spits it out. Plants his mouth shut. Yanks off his bib.
Turns out, he was just waiting for the real thing. Watch as Jackson gives a seal of approval during his introduction to Tolley Beef. Note the sound effects. This went on for 25 minutes.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Jack in the Box
Jackson is at the stage where he is in to e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g. Tonight we found him rummaging through the cabinets underneath the kitchen sink while Chad was making dinner and I was unloading the dishwasher. That little stinker has gotten lightning fast!
The only way we can seem to contain Hurricane Jackson is by letting him play in one of our moving boxes. It's a good thing we've got plenty of those around - this one kept him entertained for 20 minutes.
PS: DJRR...thanks for the title suggestion. ;)
The only way we can seem to contain Hurricane Jackson is by letting him play in one of our moving boxes. It's a good thing we've got plenty of those around - this one kept him entertained for 20 minutes.
PS: DJRR...thanks for the title suggestion. ;)
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
And they all lived happily ever after
I am only laughing because Chad did not send this to me.
If he had, it would be a very different story.
If he had, it would be a very different story.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Bingeing and purging
I'm so behind, I haven't even updated that we bought a new house.
We close in two weeks.
And if you thought I was motivated about getting rid of stuff from my posts in February of 2009 or during my series of posts last year, you people ain't seen nothing yet.
Since we made the decision to move, I have been dead serious about purging the stuff we don't need. I am not taking seven years worth of crap into my new house. So here are the current rules we live by, agreed upon by Ellen and Chad - and Jackson by default:
1) If you forgot you even had it, it goes.
2) If it hasn't been used in the last five years, it goes. (For clothes, amend to: if it hasn't been worn in the last year, it goes. And if you have kept it around all this time thinking that someday you're going to be able to fit into it again...who needs that pressure?!? It goes.)
3) If you have no idea what's even IN that box, the whole blessed thing goes.
4) If the only reason why you still have it is because you'd feel badly getting rid of it...buh-bye, honey. It goes.
5) If it's not something that you want your spouse or your kid to have to sift through when you die, it goes.
In the last two weeks, we have taken a ton of stuff to Goodwill - including five garbage bags of clothes and over 100 books. And we've thrown away our fair share of stuff as well.
But in all the manic throwing-away of things, there have been a few moments where I've stumbled upon something unexpected and smiled. Like this note I found buried in a ridiculous amount of cards and love letters and newspaper clippings from my senior year of high school. They all got pitched but this made the cut:
Among a sea of absolute junk that I've been dragging around with me for 15 years, why on Earth did I keep that? (And why on Earth didn't I keep MORE of that? I love it. I'm keeping it forever. Chad and Jackson can clean it out of the attic when I die, and it will make them smile.)
I wonder how as a parent you make the decision on what to keep and what to pitch. I wonder if I'll have an attic full of Jackson mementos that someday I'll be begging his wife to take off my hands, or if I'll wish I kept around just one more piece of artwork or note on the days I'm reminiscing. I wonder if what I deem "important" enough to keep now will seem totally irrelevant in 15 years. I do wonder, all of these things.
But I ponder all this while I keep decluttering. This has been amazingly liberating and is such an opportunity to prioritize what's important in our lives. So when we move into our first actual house at the end of the month, we'll be doing it without a whole lot of baggage.
Except for the little things I love that will get tucked away until I stumble upon them again.
We close in two weeks.
And if you thought I was motivated about getting rid of stuff from my posts in February of 2009 or during my series of posts last year, you people ain't seen nothing yet.
Since we made the decision to move, I have been dead serious about purging the stuff we don't need. I am not taking seven years worth of crap into my new house. So here are the current rules we live by, agreed upon by Ellen and Chad - and Jackson by default:
1) If you forgot you even had it, it goes.
2) If it hasn't been used in the last five years, it goes. (For clothes, amend to: if it hasn't been worn in the last year, it goes. And if you have kept it around all this time thinking that someday you're going to be able to fit into it again...who needs that pressure?!? It goes.)
3) If you have no idea what's even IN that box, the whole blessed thing goes.
4) If the only reason why you still have it is because you'd feel badly getting rid of it...buh-bye, honey. It goes.
5) If it's not something that you want your spouse or your kid to have to sift through when you die, it goes.
In the last two weeks, we have taken a ton of stuff to Goodwill - including five garbage bags of clothes and over 100 books. And we've thrown away our fair share of stuff as well.
But in all the manic throwing-away of things, there have been a few moments where I've stumbled upon something unexpected and smiled. Like this note I found buried in a ridiculous amount of cards and love letters and newspaper clippings from my senior year of high school. They all got pitched but this made the cut:
Among a sea of absolute junk that I've been dragging around with me for 15 years, why on Earth did I keep that? (And why on Earth didn't I keep MORE of that? I love it. I'm keeping it forever. Chad and Jackson can clean it out of the attic when I die, and it will make them smile.)
I wonder how as a parent you make the decision on what to keep and what to pitch. I wonder if I'll have an attic full of Jackson mementos that someday I'll be begging his wife to take off my hands, or if I'll wish I kept around just one more piece of artwork or note on the days I'm reminiscing. I wonder if what I deem "important" enough to keep now will seem totally irrelevant in 15 years. I do wonder, all of these things.
But I ponder all this while I keep decluttering. This has been amazingly liberating and is such an opportunity to prioritize what's important in our lives. So when we move into our first actual house at the end of the month, we'll be doing it without a whole lot of baggage.
Except for the little things I love that will get tucked away until I stumble upon them again.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Patience is a virtue
Over the past week, I've been trying to encourage Jackson to put food into his mouth. He loves to eat when someone is feeding him, but can't grasp the concept quite yet to feed himself. So I figure the more I can get him to touch food, the more likely it is he'll accidentally figure this whole thing out.
Last night while I was getting his "real" dinner ready, I put a few little pieces of cereal onto his tray in the hopes that he'd consider picking one up and putting it into his mouth. He thought they were fun to play with but I don't think he ate any of them. Most of the little bits, in fact, ended up on the floor - and there was no one more pleased about this than the dog.
You can almost hear what Lucy was thinking: "After nine months, this kid is finally starting to pay off."
Last night while I was getting his "real" dinner ready, I put a few little pieces of cereal onto his tray in the hopes that he'd consider picking one up and putting it into his mouth. He thought they were fun to play with but I don't think he ate any of them. Most of the little bits, in fact, ended up on the floor - and there was no one more pleased about this than the dog.
You can almost hear what Lucy was thinking: "After nine months, this kid is finally starting to pay off."
Sunday, September 4, 2011
It's time to get up
Jackson has an almost uncanny ability to wake up at exactly 7:00. You can set your watch by it. Seriously.
Yesterday morning, our first of a three-day weekend, I was really hoping for a few extra minutes of shut-eye. Was 7:30 really too much to ask? (Crazy to believe that a year ago I wouldn't see the light of day before 10:00. And even that would be considered early.)
But right on schedule, I heard Jackson start to stir and talk to himself at 6:57. Fairly soon after that he was yelling his, "Hey guys, I'm over here...time to come get me!" mantra. Likely kneeling in his crib smacking his open palm against the slats, as if to impress us with his newfound mobility.
It was Saturday morning. I was so tired. Work has been so busy. I just need 15 more minutes, buddy. Pleeease let me have 15 minutes...
And as I was lying in bed listening to the jibber-jabber of a little boy who was oh-so-ready to start his day, I thought to myself, "Someday, when we're older and retired and the kids have moved away, I will give anything to have one more day just like this."
Suddenly, getting out of bed didn't seem like that much of a chore.
So we went downstairs, I made some coffee, and Jackson and Lucy got into a disagreement over the purpose of her dog bowls.
Yesterday morning, our first of a three-day weekend, I was really hoping for a few extra minutes of shut-eye. Was 7:30 really too much to ask? (Crazy to believe that a year ago I wouldn't see the light of day before 10:00. And even that would be considered early.)
But right on schedule, I heard Jackson start to stir and talk to himself at 6:57. Fairly soon after that he was yelling his, "Hey guys, I'm over here...time to come get me!" mantra. Likely kneeling in his crib smacking his open palm against the slats, as if to impress us with his newfound mobility.
It was Saturday morning. I was so tired. Work has been so busy. I just need 15 more minutes, buddy. Pleeease let me have 15 minutes...
And as I was lying in bed listening to the jibber-jabber of a little boy who was oh-so-ready to start his day, I thought to myself, "Someday, when we're older and retired and the kids have moved away, I will give anything to have one more day just like this."
Suddenly, getting out of bed didn't seem like that much of a chore.
So we went downstairs, I made some coffee, and Jackson and Lucy got into a disagreement over the purpose of her dog bowls.
It's been an amazing weekend.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)