Dear Jack

Dear Jack,

Today you are three years old! You are so excited about your birthday. We had to sing Happy Birthday to you several times this morning while you were enjoying your birthday breakfast of cinnamon rolls.

You are such a funny kid, Jack. When you were a baby, I predicted you would be a quiet, sober child. I couldn't have been more wrong. You love to wrestle and chase your sister, tease and make jokes, and just be a total boy. You used to be so shy around new people, scowling at them whenever they approached you, but now you go up to total strangers and start telling them all sorts of random information. You are outgoing and loud and high energy and I couldn't love you more!

You and your sister have such a great relationship. You refer to her as "my Ellie-sister" and want to do everything she does. Your favorite game to play together is "Baby Kitten" where Ellie is the kitten and you take care of her. Not a day goes by that I don't hear you calling, "baby kitten!" and Ellie mewing her replies.

You have recently become potty-trained and you are oh so proud of yourself and your big boy superhero underwear. I try to tell you that you are still my baby, but you get mad and say you are not a baby, you are Jackie Kenny. You also say you are 5, not 3. Did I mention that you are very stubborn? But, Jack, you are still my cuddly boy. You love to snuggle under the blanket with me on the couch and you are never selfish with the hugs and kisses.

I recently reread your birth story and was reminded of the overwhelming joy I felt when you were born. You continue to bring so much joy to our lives every day and I cannot imagine our family without you. I love you, little man. Happy birthday.

Mommy

Hello, baby.

Tom and I both took a half day today to get an ultrasound.  We made a nice afternoon of it and went to eat at P.F. Chang's first.  So, it was with a full stomach that I went in for the ultrasound.  The baby apparently wasn't moving to the technician's satisfaction so she kept punching my stomach to get it to move. Seriously.  It was the most violent, painful ultrasound I have ever experienced.  And all I have to show for it is this grainy picture.

The Joys of Motherhood

I arrived home about 8:30 last night from a meeting to discover Ellie’s pink bowl-chair on the front lawn covered in vomit.  Tom, who was on kid-duty, was having a rough night.  It started with Jack going diarrhea in his pants and all up his shirt.  Tom bathed him and placed the freshly-washed Jack in the play room to watch a movie.  A short time later, Jack started vomiting. So, Tom did the man-thing and dumped the chair outside and the child in the bath. (He also threw the bathmat and clothes in the garage, something I didn’t discover until this morning.)  So, when I arrived home, Jack was in bed, but I had a chair to clean.  After a considerable amount of scraping and scrubbing, I final got the chair clean and decided I needed a shower.  While I was showering, Jack commenced throwing up all over his crib, pillow, stuffed animals, and books.  Tom brought Jack in for his 3^rd bath of the night while I tackled the mess in the bedroom.  I stripped the bed and threw all washables in the washer.  Then, like a dummy, I put fresh sheets and pillow on Jack’s bed and placed him back in there.  After taking care of some things, I finally went to bed myself, thinking that 5:00am was going to come much too quickly.  No sooner had my head hit the pillow when Jack started crying.  I went in to discover another mess.  So, Tom dropped Jack in the tub for the 4^th time and I finally wised up and made Jack a bed of towels on my bedroom floor.  I went to sleep making all sorts of promises to God if He would just make Jack stop throwing up.   I guess it worked because Jack didn’t wake up again until this morning and he promptly demanded I feed him a chocolate cupcake.  He settled for cereal.

Struggling

Tom likes to say that it does no good to complain because 80% of people don't care and 20% are glad you feel that way.  While I don't agree with his negative assessment of the human race, I do agree that it doesn't do any good to complain.  But I am going to go ahead and do it anyway!

When the school year started, I was so nauseous and tired all day.  I thought there couldn't be a more stressful way to start out a new year...until the second week of school when I came down with the worst cold of all time that then turned into bronchitis.  Then, every coughing fit triggered my gag reflex.  So, I was a snot-nosed, hacking, vomiting mess.  I am sure all of my students were completely repulsed.

My house is a disaster.  I can't let anyone in the door because it is THAT BAD.  I feel like I am neglecting my kids and my husband.  And I am disgusting.  Oh yeah, and even though I have been losing weight due to the illness, my belly is sticking out further than ever and I can't button any of my pants.  Instead of three months pregnant, I look six.

Whew!  Glad I got all of that off my chest!  On the bright side, the kids are really excited about this pregnancy.  Jack keeps trying to peer into my belly button to see the baby.  He is adamant that he wants a baby brother.  Ellie wants a baby sister.  So, at least one of them will get their way.

Even though I am a mess, the kids are doing awesome.   Jack has surprised me with how well he is doing at preschool.  He even asks to go on the weekends!  Ms. Yamileth (aka Miss Yummy) is magic when it comes to potty training.  She was the one who trained Ellie practically overnight several years ago.  Now, she is Jack's teacher and she has Jack almost fully trained.  Next week they are taking away his diaper at nap-time so he will be diaper free all day!  Confession...I still put a diaper on him over the weekends if we even step one foot out of the house.  That's completely understandable, right? 

What happens in Vegas does NOT stay in Vegas

Remember a couple of months ago when I took that trip to Vegas?  And I had such an awesome time (aside from the airline losing my luggage)?  Well, I guess I had a little too much fun because two weeks after we got back I discovered that I was pregnant.   I was busy packing for the move to our new house and was already stressed to the max.  So, finding out I was pregnant was not met with a whole lot of excitement.  More like sheer panic.

A few days later, I was talking to my mom on the phone and she mentioned that I seemed a little down and asked if I was stressed about the move.   "No," I replied, "I am just a little bummed because I think I might be pregnant."   She asked what made me think that and I told her "because the pregnancy test came back positive."

Now I am about 11 weeks along and am finally adjusting to the idea of having another baby.  I know this baby was meant to be and I will love him or her like crazy, but sometimes that is hard to remember when you are hunched over the toilet bowl vomiting up dinner.