Is or was...

Parker is a Momma's boy. Is or was? I don't know... I'm not entirely sure where we stand.

Parker pre-brother.
(another Jana picture)

Pregnant, I could not think about Parker's reaction to us having a baby without crying. Casual conversations would turn very serious when people would ask, "How do you think Parker will like being a big brother?" To avoid the embarassing waterworks, I would respond by talking about what I was doing to try to prepare him.

My honest answer would've been, "He'll hate it. He doesn't like babies. If they come near me, he hits them, pushes them... does whatever while screaming, 'Not your momma! My momma!"

If you were my Mom or my sister you would've gotten the honest answer. "I feel like I'm losing my little boy. He's gonna hate me. I don't want our relationship to change."


And if we were going deep, I would talk about how not only was I afraid Parker wouldn't love his brother, but that I wouldn't love his brother as much as I love him. To all those who tried to convince me I would love my second as much as I love my first... I owe you an apology. I take back my eye rolls and the belief that you must not love your oldest like I love Parker.


It is true; you can love them both.
.

Jared Day One- Parker, out of the blue, asked to hold him. Man did this moment make my heart soar! He had never before shown any interest in babies- but his brother! He wanted to hold his brother!

Parker has done pretty well adjusting to his big brother role. First week was a little shaky- couple of potty accidents, stubborn willfulness, general uncooperativeness. Pretty predictable. What I didn't predict is that he would actually be nice to the baby. Granted, he doesn't pay him a lot of mind, but when he does give him attention, he's soft and talks nicely to him. Quite the difference from how he's treated other babies.

My Mom told me before we had Jared that "somehow they know when it's family". Yesterday Parker walked into our room pointed to Jared and said, "Look. There's momma's baby." Talk about a zinger to the heart. I guess Parker's not my baby anymore. How come it's not "our baby" or "Daddy's baby"? It's gotta be "momma's baby".

So yes, while you can love them both there's a level of guilt I'm working on managing. I am literally grieving the time I used to have with Parker, but then feeling guilt for feeling such bliss when with Jared. I miss the other when I'm with one. I wonder about things- like how the other's emotional development is going to be stunted because I must divide my attention.

This is normal right? To over-think these situations?

Jared is One Month Old

But doesn't he look like a sweet balding old man in this one?

Yesterday was the day of the blue sweater vests at church.

I was buying these Easter outfits when I went into labor with Jared.

I was at the mall trying to get some regular contractions going, and when we got to Carters at 7:00 pm. I had a contraction that "got my attention"; trying not to get my hopes up, I kept casually browsing while timing them. Five minutes apart and lasting 30 seconds... I was checking out at 7:45 and had a contraction that had me leaning on the counter and my eyes watering. It was time to go. (You should've seen the look on the young cashier's face- "Uh... they didn't train me for this." She was worried.)

Boys... a sigh of relief

Parker's been couped up a lot, he needed to burn some energy and it's too hot for the park ... all my excuses for filling my waffle fry and lemonade craving. Little did I know, I would be so intrigued by the happenings within the Chick-fil-A play place that I haven't been able to stop thinking about our lunch outing all afternoon.

A set of three siblings entered the play place and I smiled when I saw them because they. looked. good. The boys had on boat shoes, plaid shorts, collared shirts, were sporting faux hawks (admittedly, the hawks are cute on little boys but I do have opinions on standards of modesty for boys so my boys will never have them.) Their older sister had gold blingy sandals, rolled up denim shorts, and aviators propped up on her head. She looked like a diva and had the sass to match.

She made friends with each girl that came in, and then moments later each new friendship dramatically ended. I couldn't help but relish in the fact that I had two boys. Ah the ease... I was quite the bossy, emotional filled little girl myself. And I imagine having a daughter who is the same way will only bring out that side of me. I think I'm a better fit for sons.

So as I'm thinking of all the reasons I'm glad Heavenly Father gave me two boys, this said little girl walks by and I notice she's not a natural blonde! And those are some quality highlights! Professional, for sure! When her nanny walked out of the play place I asked her how old she was. "Six". I about fell off the bench. No worries though, I played it cool.

"You're hair is really pretty."

"I straightened it today."

Really? Really! Really?. Who's teaching this girl about beauty? It's terribly sad, that she's six and she woke up thinking, "I need to straighten my hair today. Are my roots showing?"

When/if I have a daughter how am I going to convince her beauty isn't highlights, bling, and aviators? Especially when I myself smiled and took note of how adorable this girl was when she walked into the play place completely owning it.

I'm totally spooked by these six-year-old's highlights. Please tell me my boys will be ignorant to this definition of beauty until they're at least 25. I don't want them being seduced in grade school by highlights and trendy clothing.

.

Jared and Parker- may they always be this easy

An Attitude of Gratitude

I am grateful for sleeping on my stomach. Standing up without the need for leverage. A bladder that holds all night. Slouching. No more congestion. Non-maternity jeans. Wearing shoes other than my tennis shoes. No more weekly appointments with midwives or chiropractors. No more small talk with every person I meet with all the same questions. And so much more.(Picture taken by Jana- 36 weeks)

Some people love being pregnant. I am not one of them. Nine months is entirely too long. The anticipation kills me. I hate surprises. Once I decide I'm ready to have a kid, I am ready to have it. I don't want to wait.

I am definitely grateful not to be pregnant anymore. But I am most grateful for a body that is able to create and sustain life. (Seriously... think about it. That is AMAZING. We're all little miracles.) I am grateful for the strength I have to endure labor and delivery. I am grateful that both my pregnancies and deliveries have been complication free with no room to complain... except for that the anticipation KILLS me.

Some humor for you-

Every time I caught a glimpse of myself this day I thought I looked like the latest wife to join the show Sister Wives.

I will not be saving this maternity shirt or pairing plaid with this hair style ever again.

I was 39 weeks in this one.