Midnight Pears

We have finally joined a church and have been attending fairly regularly. I have always prayed with the kids before bed (whether they realize it or not) but usually Annie would interrupt me and we would go of on some other tangent and I would circle back to quietly finish the prayer as I sat with her.


But lately Annie has been saying she's "scared" at night. Now, who knows if this is just a ploy for additional parent time or if she is actually scared of the dark? But either way, part of my prayer is that Angels will watch over them and keep them safe while they sleep.


After about 1,523 questions from Annie about these "angels" (do they have wings? are they "ghostses"? how big are they? can you see them, mommy? do they like my room?) I think she finally has accepted the night time prayer and finds comfort in the angel portion of it.


Last night Rick put Annie to bed and I just gave her a quick kiss goodnight and started getting ready for bed myself.


At midnight I hear her padding over to Rick's side of the bed:


A: Mommy needs to see my pants.
R: What? What about your pants? Do you have to go to the bathroom?
A: No, my pears. Mommy needs to see my pears.
R: .....rolls over..."she wants you"


Annie and I walk back into her room and she is talking about her pears and how I forgot them. At this point I think she's sleepwalking and just tuck her back in because, pears????


But she isn't having it. She jolts back up in bed and demands pears.


Me: I don't know what you are talking about with the pears.
Annie: You know mommy, like God?


Oh.....I forgot to say your prayers.


Thank you, God, for these sweet babes. I promise I won't ever forget their pears again.

JOHN IS ONE!!!!

Dear John,
I am at a loss for words.

You are one. 365 days old. You have made our family complete. You are my big little boy. You are so very very busy. And so very very happy.

It's really hard for me to believe it's been a year. On one hand, it seems like you were a tiny baby about three weeks ago. But then it also seems like it's been an eternity since I was in that hospital room getting ready to have you. Rick and I thought and thought about it and couldn't even remember where we went for dinner the night before you were born. That's pretty lame. Of course, we might only remember the "last meal" before Annie was born because it was KFC and so incredibly random and horrible.

But I do remember that there was a large snow storm the day before we went to the hospital. And I remember your Dad went and got us all donuts (an apple fritter for me) the morning before we went in for our induction. I remember that I loved looking out my hospital window and seeing snow covered hills and Christmas lights and thinking how special it would be to have a new baby home at Christmas.

I remember thinking it was uncanny how similar your birth was to your sister's, and how thankful I am that I can push a baby out so quickly, since you both had your cords wrapped around your bodies. I was so thankful this time to get to have you in my room with me instead of a baby in the NICU.
 

I remember thinking it was so odd that when we had a baby in the NICU, we had to watch a video on infant CPR before we could take Annie home. Since you were not in the NICU, we had to watch a video on not shaking a baby. Weird, but true. I remember being thankful that I got to change your diaper and swaddle you before we took you home, because, let's face it, I needed a little refresher course on that stuff.


I remember that your Dad went home both nights so he could get a good night's sleep (at my insistence). I had your bassinet right next to me and didn't sleep at all the first night. I kept rolling over to look at you. It was so quiet and peaceful. And I tried not to worry about you, or worry about your sister. Or worry about how we were going to survive again with an infant.


But you were so good. So sweet. I loved having you with me from the beginning. And while I haven't stopped worrying about you or your sister, I have stopped worrying about how we will get through. What I have learned in the last few years is that we are a team. And you fit right in. Right now, your "job" (as Annie likes to say) is to make us all smile, give Annie someone to play with, and to give me a new appreciation for a full night's sleep. We have all stepped up our game in the last year, and it's been the best one yet.


So while we don't have a bunch of staged photos of you in a perfect birthday outfit, with a perfect birthday cake with perfect birthday lighting, and none of that will likely ever happen in your lifetime, I can promise that I will do my best to give you our version of perfect birthdays for as long as you will let me. So while it might not always be pretty, it will be fun and happy and loving, which sounds about perfect to me.

Happy birthday, sweet Boy. I love you so incredibly much,
Mom

2 weeks from ONE YEAR OLD

Dear John,

My sweet, sweet, baby J. I am so sorry. I had every intention of documenting your life here, but that's just not happening. We are busy with you and your sister and working and holidays and day to day that this just keeps getting pushed aside.

You are crawling. Fast. When we found out we were having a boy, everyone warned us that boys are a handful, but I quickly dismissed it, saying that Annie was a really busy and active kid and I couldn't imagine a boy being much different. Well. Let's just say, you are much different.

Let's just say, you are excellent at hazard identification. You notice/seek out the most dangerous things possible. Things Annie never glanced twice at. Things I would never even think could be a hazard until I see you slowly creeping up towards it, eyeing me over your shoulder to see if I am watching.

For example: The Christmas Tree. We put it up on Friday. I worried about you pulling the tree down on top of you because what baby wouldn't be fascinated with the hundreds of sparkling, ACCESSIBLE twinkle lights. I anticipated pulling you away from the tree 157 times the first day, you being drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

What actually happened: You didn't even give it a second glance. It would have been impossible for you to care less about the tree. You were, however, immediately drawn to the electric cord leading from the tree to the wall.

So that's awesome.

Thankfully you are more interested in the sooty fireplace tools than the fireplace itself. For now.

As they say, you are all boy. You love to get dirty and are always on the move. That, I was prepared for, thanks to your big sister. You no longer want to be held. You want to be crawling or climbing. You love slides and to crawl on top of Annie's chair. You love your cow blankie SERIOUSLY. If it's not in your hand, you are grunting around until you find it.

You are a bit more of a picky eater than your sister was at this age. But then, there's zero consistency. You will like something one day, and then make a face at it the next. The only thing you have not turned your nose up at yet is cantaloupe. Go figure.

You still take a bottle 3-4 times a day. You eat about 60% table food and still like baby foods/purees. You take two naps, usually 1-2 hours a piece. You are still in size 4 diapers. You have four bottom teeth and two top teeth, with a third making its way through as I type this.

You are loud and funny and sweet and cuddly (sometimes). Annie loves you SO much and you love her. You look for her every morning and always want to play with her. You all have started "play fighting" where she chases you and presses your bottom into the ground when she catches you. You howl with laughter and think it's the funniest thing ever. It has aged me about 10 years. I guess this is only the beginning. 



Thirty years from now I want to remember your "fuzzy duck" hair, how you think it's so funny when I pretend your socks are stuck and smell your feet and make a big production about how stinky they are. I want to remember how much you love the bath and how every night before bed I lay your cow over my shoulder and you lay your head down and we say our prayers before I put you in your crib. I want to remember how much you love music and dancing and how you do this little wiggle dance when you are eating something you really like.

I love you, sweet boy.

~mom