A few weeks ago, I was tidying the living room while Benjamin was in our bedroom folding laundry. We heard a loud “pop!” I thought, “what is he doing in there?” He came out and said, “You’re going to wake the baby!” Once we realized neither of us made the noise, we started looking around the room. He smelled electrical burning and began digging around the computer desk. I noticed my computer was turned off.
I love these boots on Jax!
We met with a prospective birth photography client today, so I was trying to be a bit dressier than usual.
He’s pursing his lips, as in the top photo, a lot lately. I’m unsure if he’s chewing on his lip as a teething soother, or what. He still has no sign of teeth, despite the fact that lots of friends with babies one and two months younger than him have two or more teeth already. I’m going to just be grateful, since it makes life easier on a nursing momma!
Also, when my hair gets to this length, I’m usually annoyed with it and dying to chip it off. It’s soo long! But when I see it in photos, this length looks nice on me. It’s just harder to style or something, and it starts getting onto my neck and stuck under collars. I much prefer having it off my neck completely. Since it grows about an inch a month, this is challenging to maintain. I get my hair cut every two to three months, so it’s generally pretty short after a trim, and thus feels very long three inches / months later.
I’m sure I’ll trim it between now and Christmas, to make sure it’s tidy for all the holiday photo taking.
Around here, Jax has started to enjoy the hide and seek / peek a boo / I’m gonna get you game. He and Benjamin crawl around in the living room for ten or fifteen minutes each day, and all I can hear from the other room is peals and peals of laughter. It’s the most delightful sound I can imagine hearing while I cook dinner, or clean dishes, or finish up a task on my computer.
I knew when I married him that he loved kids, and he has proved me right. In fact, he has far exceeded my expectations. There’s no begging and pleading from the momma for the papa to step up to bat. He just shows up from work, and absolutely delights in entertaining, tickling, chasing, playing with our son. I’m so blessed.
It’s your first birthday as a Daddy. It’s like a new beginning in a way. From now on, you will always be a Father. Watching you be a Daddy to our son has made me love you in a whole new way. We are in this together. We share the joy and the struggle. It’s taken some adjustment, but you’re ready for things to never be the same. There’s things we will miss about how we lived before, but it will be nothing against what we have gained in the life we have now.
You get upset if you haven’t had a chance to hold him today. You get annoyed if it’s been too many days since he napped in the carrier attached to you. You don’t seem to mind when your single guy friends tease you for wearing the baby. You love this baby. When you are together, I find you singing to him, playing him oldies music, bouncing with him on the yoga ball, watching videos of other babies laughing, kissing him, tickling his neck, cuddling him tight, tight in your arms.
You look at him the same way I do. Like you never want to let him go. Like you wish you didn’t have to stop looking.
You kiss us before we go to bed at night, and you kiss us before you leave in the morning. One of his favorite parts of the day is when you arrive home from work. He lights up. You change poopy diapers without complaint. You bathe him, dress him in pajamas, and read him a Bible story each night before bed.
You greet another birthday today. Another day of discovery. Another marker to say where we have been, to turn our eyes to where we are going. We’ll count his birthdays too, and they’ll go by so fast ours will get lost in the rush, and we’ll wish it could all slow down. I cherish these days. I cherish his sweet face next to yours. I cherish the way you hold him, the way he looks at you.
I love you. I love you more because you love him. I love who you have been. I love who you are becoming. Happy birthday my love.
My husband considers it one of his jobs in life to find ways to make me laugh.
Last night it was when he emerged from our closet wearing only MY bathrobe. It was way too short and small. I laughed until I cried. Then he said, laughing under his breath, “It worked!”
I will spare you the photo.
Okay, so hopefully this is not too crude for a public blog, but it was just to funny to forget.
You know how birth control pills are continually advertising things like “Shorter, lighter periods!” Benjamin and I were on this topic somehow, and he said, “Well, that wouldn’t really be a period. It would be more like a comma.”
Really, how does he keep coming up with all this funny stuff?!
When Benjamin and I arrived home tonight, this was parked in our neighbor’s drive way.
We both noticed it at the same time. Without missing a beat, Benjamin says, “Wow, I didn’t know that vacuum company made cars!”
I laughed. Outloud. So I give you, the Dyson Car.
Which reminds me…. When my dad had minor surgery recently, Benjamin and I were walking out of the hospital late one night. We passed this in the hallway.
I didn’t know De Walt made stretchers either. Considering this is a company who makes their living on power drills, that explains why something designed to gently transport suffering human bodies has the ironic and insenstive name of “Stryker.”
Cars made by vacuum cleaner companies and medical equipment made by power tool companies. You learn something new every day, you know?
So my dear husband makes me laugh every day at least once. I have told him that sometimes, when I with him is the only time I am happy all day. Sometimes he makes me laugh until I am in a fit of stomach-ache and tears. A few nights ago was one of those moments….
We were folding laundry. Specifically those white socks that come in a million shapes, sizes, and brands. Nike, Adidas, Hanes, Gold Toe, mid-calf, ankle, low-rise, invisible, sport thickness, blah blah. I’m not sure how you store your socks, but Benjamin has a bin in his closet for tall white socks, a bin for low white socks, and a bin for the remaining oddball socks in transition between mates. After I finished sorting the sock madness into pairs that made sense, and depositing them in their tall or low bins, I was left with an unusually large handful of lonely ones.
With a teasing despondent face, I lifted up the scrappy handful, saying, “These poor socks, they have no mate.” 🙁
From behind a stack of folded white tees, I hear Benjamin’s chipper response: “Oh, don’t worry, we’ll just take them over to the singles group!”
Well maybe you had to be there, but the idea of a singles group sock bin just made me giggle. And giggle. And laugh hard outloud. And bend over laughing. And get hiccups from laughing.
So do your lonely socks get to hang out with the singles group? Just checking.