Thursday Morning

For the grandparents, mainly, but all are welcome:

I will probably never get over his little body.  Hand dimples, curls, eyelashes, his own 100% original profile, the way you can see traces of his rib cage despite his ample belly... it's just incredible to me.

Lately he makes this face while saying, "nuh nuh nuh nuh" and I worry he's copying me saying "No no no no" when he's about to a) attempt a dive bomb, b) try to climb onto the dishwasher while I load or empty it, c) sneak the iPad or my phone, d) insert [inedible/poisonous/choking hazard item] into his mouth.  Which, by the way, I am constantly cleaning the floors, and somehow he still finds stuff.  Hmph.

Enjoy your Thursday.

2 Years

Break out the bubbly, for 'twas 2 years ago that Jeff married me, and I married Jeff.

Many song lyrics come to mind today....

You mean to me what I mean to you

Even though we ain't got money, I'm so in love with you honey,

I love you, and you alone were meant for me

Loooooove is a many splendored thing

Who ya gonna call?

You're my sunshine after the rain

Love you forever and forever, love you with all my heart

And, on completely serious note, I was running the other night sans baby which means I could listen to music. I don't really have a "work out playlist," so I usually just start it on a song that has a good beat, but if the song that comes after that doesn't, I'm in the zone by then and too lazy to change it.  A Case of You by Joni Mitchell came on, an example of a bad running rhythm, but I do love that song and enjoyed it.  I know this is cheesy, but tears filled my little eyes as she sang,

I remember that time you told me, you said,

 'Love is touching souls',

Surely you've touched mine cause,

Part of you pours out of me

in these lines from time to time

In all her silliness, Joni said something that was really true.  As powerful as "I love you" is, I love a lot of things and say it all the time.  I love Diet Coke.  I love Mitt Romney.  I love The Beatles.  I love Mary Cassatt paintings.  I love iceberg roses.  I love skinny jeans.  I love being skinny.  I love big baskets.  But Jeff is the only person who's touched my soul, in a very Bronte sort of way.  Disagreements and moments of exasperation may pepper some days, but who cares?  He's the one who's rooted down deep into my soul, he's a part of me more than anyone else ever could be, and I am so happy that I'll never, ever be without him.  

So to millions more, Jeff.  I love you in a big way.

Friday Night

* we are watching midnight in Paris AGAIN. It might be one of my all time favorites.
* Instagram is my new favorite thing. So much more positive than Facebook and 100% pictures of things my friends are up to. I'm staying faaaar, far away from Facebook. This is mainly because the political rants are driving me up the wall.
* Last Sunday we were sitting in church minding our own biz and Jude was standing on the bench making eyes at our friends sitting behind us, and then without warning, "Bleeeeereccchhchhxjchchjxhh". Jude regurgitated more than I ever knew he could fit into his tummy. Poor baby, poor callisters who also got barfed on, poor church pew. Then Jeff and I got the stomach flu Monday. I cannot even begin to say how worthless I am when I have the stomach flu. It turns me into a depressed banshee. It was actually sort of sweet in the end, though, the 3 of us flopped on the couch, and floor, guzzling Gatorade, Jude took extra naps snuggled with his dad, when he was up we let him play with my phone to keep him happy while we were heaving, and when we felt better we had French toast and watched the debate. Jeff gets a high 5 and a pat on the bum for reminding me about life's blessings while I was wishing I were dead on the bathroom floor :).
* anyway tonight we rented a carpet cleaner and shampooed the pew at the church so that the fine folk sitting on it in church Sunday don't have to wonder what that smell is....
And we had a grand old time so we shampooed our carpet at home. Don't be jealous, your time will come to shampoo your Friday night away.
* happy anniversary to us on Monday!

11 Months: Baby No More

Suddenly, Jude is a big tease.

His mannerisms seem so much older to me.

He has discovered he can scream, and screams for joy allllll day long.

It still makes me laugh, but I try not to egg him on.

He has some serious zeal for life.

He crawls around at break-neck speeds, blowing rasperries as he goes, mumbling his baby talk, growling,

and of course his famous machine-gun laugh.

Jude learned how to wave and now will perform his trick whenever he fancies.

Door stops are still his fave.

Along with food.

He was eating the same amounts of food for so many months, now that is just not going to do it.

He is throwing back a lot more of everything.

This makes me excited to switch to cow's milk in T-30 days!

I sneak in a bit here and there to make sure he's fine with the transition.

We are wearing regular shirts and pants whenever possible, because it's hard enough to change a diaper; getting him to hold still to snap him up afterward is like asking him to take the Louisiana Bar!

We are also done with bibs (he rips them right off; tied or velcro).

He's drooling a bit less, though, so that's nice. (Emphasis on "a bit".)

Jude loves his sippies, thank heavens!  I thought he'd never let go of the baba!

He wants to dive-bomb off the bed.

He puts his binky into Jeff's mouth and laughs his head off.

I'm starting to get a whiff of tantrums.

He loves BALLS.

He throws and then chases them around the house all day.

Must come from his Uncle Cameron :).

"Mamamama"

"Dadadadada"

"Nananana"

"Bababababa"

He has so much love to give.

We can't imagine life without him.

We are so grateful.

Nap Time

Which means I'm showered, wearing normal clothes, and blogging doesn't sound like a chore right now, so here am I!

We're in a good groove right now, I think.  We're just doing the day-to-day, which means jogging, gym and jogging for Jeff, cooking, tickling, picking up, putting down, zerberts, kissing, dumping out toys, putting them away, chasing rolling balls around the house, ba-bas, mushy food, reading, walks, yoga with friends, running errands, podcasts, Parks and Recreation on Hulu, among other things.

Some thoughts:

- We're about to hit our stretch of Anniversary, Jeff's bday a week later, and then 2 weeks after that, Jude's birthday (!) AND Valentine's Day, which all adds up to very fun, but expensive, and some planning is in order.  That has been on my noggin.

- I've organized a bunch of out-grown baby clothes and a few kitchen drawers (is it bad if you had 3 "junk drawers"???), and realized we have several categories of "things" that I want a separate place for, but it's a small amount or small items.  They don't need a whole drawer or shelf.  I think one of THESE in our future:

- We've cut out treats Monday to Saturday like we did in good old 2009 when we were boyfriend/girlfriend, full of sass and motivation.  By Saturday I'm near tears but I can't deny it feels good, and is helping us tighten the belts.

- Oop I hear Jude rattling his crib bars. Bye.

Downton Returns

The world has been invited to dine at Downton, and I feel a little like this:

I wish wish wish all my female family compatriots could be here to watch it with me.  Alas, they are not.  And I can't ask them to wait until such a time.  Jeff is out of the mix because he worked a brilliant strategy a few years ago when it came to period pieces.  After asking (negotiating?) for weeks that he watch P&P with me, he acquiesced but then proceeded to, throughout the entire thing, make snide, mocking comments and groan like he was passing kidney stones.  He accomplished what he set out to: ensure that I would never want him to watch a period piece with him ever again.

I'm also a little nervous.  I saw the trailer for Season 2 and got teary-eyed; I love these characters so much!   Lord Grantham when he keeps Bates on because it "just wasn't right" to let him go, Lady Grantham and her perfect, selfish wit, "What about MY pride?  Is it to be sacrificed on the alter of Mosley's ambition??"  What if it doesn't live up to the first season?  They also have signed on for a third season; what if it goes downhill as they grapple for ways to extend the plot lines to make more cash?  I have a way of idealizing shows, actors, etc. and then later when I revisit it or the show continues, I'm disappointed.  (Grey's Anatomy and Felicity, I'm talkin to you, you unbearable shows that started out awesome!)

Ah well, I shall watch it by my lonesome and text commentary to those I love when necessary.  And, "in situations such as this, one can normally find an Italian who isn't too picky."

Christmas Day Pictures

Elizabeth has really learned more than a thing or two about photography.  We took family pictures on Christmas day, and I'm so glad.  The Eatons have never been diligent about family pictures, or Christmas cards, but Elizabeth and I are, and it was a huge sigh of relief to get this crossed off.  

The big Eaton pics are still being edited, but here are some of ours, the Hayes Chapter:

And here are some more, just for fun:

Christmas Travels and their Ability to Test the Limits of Sanity

On the 26th me and my boys got in the car with presents and plans to extend the merriment in Utah.  

This was tweaked by the gridlock that began somewhere on the 91, the most odious of all freeways ever created by man, and lasted until somewhere past Vegas.  For about 40 minutes of that Jude was screaming and we wondered if we would have ulcers if we didn't turn around and go home.  We didn't, and Jude chilled out after not too long.  

BUT:

It took us 9 hours to get to Las Vegas, people.  9 HOURS!  

We did stop in Barstow to get some food and opted against Chipotle or In-n-Out, thinking they'd be more crowded because they are more delicious.  They were, but that doesn't mean Panda Express, our final selection, wasn't also absolutely stuffed with weary, sweaty travelers.  Also, no changing table in the bathroom.  After standing in line for 30 minutes we snarfed every inch of that food in our frustration.  My cousin Becca would call that F.K.B. (Fat Kid Behavior).  

Anyway, once we got past Vegas it opened up a bit so we kept going.  When we were getting closer to St. George my eyelids were heavy so we stopped.  We were going to stop at Motel 6 but I didn't want Herpes so we chose The Days Inn.  

At that point, about 1:30a.m., Jude had been sleeping for about 7 hours, woke up when we were getting into our room, and wanted to party.  Delirium.  Wriggly baby.  We ended up letting him sleep with us that night, which had never happened before, not once.  (This co-sleeping continued on our trip because guess what: infants, past a certain young age, do not like sleeping in unfamiliar places.  Which is why, young couples out there who think they can save their European adventures for later because they can take their babies on every vacation and it'll be just minimal extra work: it's not that all the other parents are wimps, it's just that traveling turns babies into monsters.)

I didn't sleep well that night; I kept worrying I'd roll over on my Jude.  I woke up at 5a.m. and tried to convince Jeff we should just hit the road, that I was awake enough.  He thought that was hilarious.  We left at 7. 

Jude found the candy.  He didn't penetrate the ziplock.

We made it to Bountiful by lunch time and it was all worth it.

More to come, but for now, 

The End.

Christmas Eve 2011

I feel like it's any year between 1987 and 1999 because I can't sleep on Christmas Eve!  

I'm also winding down from one of the best Christmas Eves I've ever had in my life.  For the first time in 4 years, my entire immediate family is here, brood and spouses in tow.  Because of bedtimes and hopes of simplification we didn't do some of the traditional things (outings) that would seem absolutely, 100% necessary to effectuate the proper Christmas glow, but I didn't even care and it didn't take away from anything.  We had a lovely time just hanging out and keeping the marauding babies from injuring themselves.  Not too much sugar, not too much noise (or maybe it was all the same but I was just more emotionally and mentally prepared for the havoc), it was all just perfect, which is, I know, a bold word choice.  We had dinner, a little Family Talent Show (small interruption from Ian's meltdown), back to our house for dessert, the kids playing really well together, bedtime for all babies (the Jexies are staying at our house), and then the adults got to sit around talking and laughing, mostly uninterrupted.  I suppose that's all I really wanted, and it came off without a hitch!

This being my first Christmas as a mother, I would have sung a favorite song at the Family Talent Show, but I really don't think I could have gotten through a verse (no, it was not going to be Breath of Heaven or Mary Did You Know?).  When is this all going to ease off on my emotions?  It feels like ever since February 14 I have lived on a crumbly, narrow strip of composure where weeping borders on either side.  Why don't we throw all that goes along with Christian belief at this time of year?  That will really work wonders for me.

Mimi love 

Launching water balloons at the Elementary School, because Christmas is not Christmas without a dollop of hooligan. Do you see Harry out in the distance?  He got pegged in the shoulder.

Jude and Ian being rugrats, comrades, pals.  It turns out the both love climbing on things they shouldn't, eating things they shouldn't, whacking things they should and/or shouldn't, but only Jude finds it necessary to grab hair.

Thees ees thee life.

Dad issuing command re: food.  That little pixie doodle on his lap was the #1 sweetheart and snuggler of the day.  I cannot even tell you.

Guess what: Jeff has an ear infection, a sinus infection, but was still as sweet and Christmassy as can be, and my favorite partygoer. 

Some Christmas bagpipe -- duh.

Tasting dirt for the first time.  No qualms.

Nice, Harry. :)

Until tomorrow!  Merry Christmas!

Bullets

• I remember reading an Albert Schweitzer quote once, "Happiness is nothing more than good health and a bad memory."  I am actually lucky to have good health so Albert, I'm half way there.  Except for a few pockets of life when I was getting the stomach flu all the time, my immune system could beat up your immune system.  Then last night while sitting in the family room chatting up my siblings that are home for Christmas, I could feel the aches coming on.  5 minutes after they left I was bundled up on the couch with a blanket pulled up to my chin, shivering.  The flu whacked me on the head and it's still throbbing.  I never appreciate how healthy I am until I'm not.  Just for added fun, Jude got a skin infection called Folliculitis.  Please don't google image-es it, it's gross and Jude's version is not that bad.  But he is on a couple of antibiotics and for this Jeff and I are sad.  Jeff is starting to feel poorly (because how could he escape at this point?), so maybe DayQuil will be seeing us through this Christmas.
• This is why Newt would not get my vote:

Just as Huckabee, look-alike of devious President Logan on 24, did not make the cut, Newt/Mr. Henry F. Potter, "the richest, meanest man in the county" will not either.  Am I the only one seeing this resemblance?

• My mom's Christmas Caramels are legend.  Everyone wants them, no one can make them successfully except her.  Once Jeff and I even made them WITH her standing right there, and they were a crap batch.  Tonight I had her over to really show me how it's done.  To guide me and my silicone scraper, give me all her tricks and bounties of caramel knowledge.  I still don't know how to do it.  Like the English language, there was no consistency with the rules.  The varying temperature, the whisking, the dripping of the cream/condensed milk blend, it's all coded into her wrist and doesn't translate.
• I'm so out of the music scene I didn't even listen to one second of a new Coldplay song until a few days ago.  I used to be so obsessed with them I could tell you how many days remained until their next album released.  I pre-ordered X&Y and waited up until midnight to begin the download.  My how things have changed.
• Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight!

10 Months: Holiday Baby

Jude's ringing in the beginning of his 11th month of life with a bang-a-rang fever.  Very sad.

While he did offer up a few smiles, this was his zoned-out face most of the day:

Jude is busy busy.  I read in all these books 10 months is the best age for photographing.  What 10 month olds are they talking about?? I can never get him to hold still.  Blurry blurry blurry are the pictures.

In other facets of Jude, his dream is to chew on our shoes.  Dream unfulfilled.

He's pulling himself up on everything, which means he has had a bloody lip and a few spills.  I think the worst part about those are the shocked and horrified looks he gets after, like he's wondering what he ever did to deserve this unpleasant surprise.  I just tell him, "Welcome to mortality."

We put a few toys in his crib, and when he wakes up we can hear him talking to them, and then he climbs up on the bars and jumps.  The mattress squeaking cracks us up.

He wants nothing to do with TV, or any toy for longer than 4 minutes, but if you wanted to tickle him 17 hours a day, he'd let you.

I'm sure he won't remember any of this Christmas, but having him around is making it pretty memorable for us.

Sigh

Maybe a little Mini Merzy too.

9 times out of 10, people tell me Jude is a replica of Jeff.

But I have to say I am starting to see bits of Momala creep into his facial expressions, ever in his mouth and nose.

Moi as a wee bairn

Taken today.

But those eyes -- so completely 1000% his dad.

Also, just for the record:

He is not named after Jude Law, (no matter how handsome Jude Law may be).  Can't you just see it: "Yes, my child, it is your father's hope and mine that you grow to be an infidel and a shmoozer, with many millions in your pocketbook from motion picture films."  We do love The Beatles, but most of all I just love the name, and could see us with a little Jude Hayes running around, asking me to fill up his sippy with milk, chocolate milk if I was willing, putting on his shin guards for soccer practice, spilling everything everwhere, making up knock-knock jokes that don't make any sense, etc.

The Time Has Come, the Walrus said

to baby proof your house.

When Jude wakes up, he's going to be severely disappointed.

Maybe he's a glass-half-full sort of guy, though, and will be excited for one more thing that makes a loud noise when it's whacked,  one more thing to climb on and taste.