Guys and Dolls

Dear Jack,

A while back, my friend Summer had this whole blog post using the exact same pun about guys and dolls. Her post was more about which kind of doll to buy for her son, but it got me thinking, even before you were born: would I want my son to have a doll?

It was so easy to decide to give your sister cars and trucks and tools. Girls can have boyish things these days with little to no social repercussions. I would even argue that there is an entire counter-culture movement where have a "boyish" little girl is a good thing. I know that your dad and I value your sister's toughness and physical nature. We appreciate that she likes to be outside and doesn't mind being dirty. We have actually outlawed the Disney Princesses and the message of girl-waiting-to-be-rescued that they bring with them. Mostly, though, we are proud of all of the skills she is picking up and how many of them are useful skills, gender-roles aside. Cooking, cleaning, washing a car, using a hammer are all skills that everyone should know.

For you, though, would I have the same philosophies? Would I, in a southern culture that ridicules the softer side of men and thinks that men acting like women are weak, be strong enough to raise a son in touch with his feminine side?

It turns out that I am. I love your boyishness. Already I can see that you are a much different kind of person than your sister. But when it comes to some things, I want them to be the same. She got her first doll for her first Christmas, and so did you. Right now, all you want to do is nom on him, and maybe that will be all he's good for to you, but I wanted you to have the chance to carry around a precious baby and love on him like I love on you. Maybe, like so many of my southern friends have said, it's only little girls who have that natural instinct to play "mommy," but if that be the case, I wanted to be something you chose within yourself, not something I denied you the chance to express.

Love,
Mom

Don't Blink

Dear Jack,

It seems like you are developing new skills daily right now. Today it was clapping.

What will tomorrow bring, I wonder?

Love,
Mom

It Might Just Work

Dear Jack,

For the last year or so, your dad and I have been saying that you and your sister will be sharing a room, at least for a while.

Except when we say it, we say it like this: "The kids are going to share a room." [ha ha ha]

That last little bit of laughter is all in our heads, but we both readily admit to it. See, we didn't really care one way or another and knew that you wouldn't be in any room but ours for the first few months anyway, so we just didn't bother making any real decision. Your sister's room already had a crib and a twin bed, so we moved her to the twin bed and called it your room, too.

The trick, of course, would be to get the two of you to sleep in the same room at the same time. That's where the laughter came in. It seemed like it would be such a trick to get two little people to sleep without the one waking the other. How could that not be a joke?

Yet, today, for the very first time, we pulled it off. You fell asleep in your crib in your room while your sister was chattering away at her stuffed animals and then she fell asleep and there you both were. Asleep in your room. At the same time.

For the very first time, the laughter melted away and your dad and I thought this might just work.

The kids are going to share a room.

Love,
Mom

Not so Fast

Dear Jack,

Your physicality amazes me. A month ago, you didn't even know how to sit yourself up without help and now you are crawling everywhere, sit up, lay down, and even pull up to a standing position at will.

I have also noticed that once you learn a new skill, it seems like you can't be bothered with the old ones any more. Now that you can stand, for example, no more sitting for you. You pull up on your toys and stand there, with one hand on the toy for balance and play for twenty minutes or so until your core muscles and legs just won't stand anymore.

It's cute and admirable, but I'm afraid it means walking will be just around the corner.

Slow down, sweet boy.

I'm still getting used to not finding you right where I left you.

Love,
Mom



P.S. Normally I hate the whole "and then we were better parents with our second child" nonsense, but I do think you should thank your sister for demonstrating beyond a shadow of a doubt for us that once a baby can pull up, crib mattresses should be lowered. No tumbling over the rail for you. Until you can climb better, anyway.

Merry Christmas

Dear Jack,

Your first Christmas was pretty awesome, I thought. You got some great gifts, of course, but you also spent a lot of time with your family... grandmas, aunts, uncles, cousins, and of course your dad and sister and me. You also learned a new trick: pulling yourself to a standing position, which you thought was pretty neat. And you are now officially fully mobile. You can crawl from one end of a room to the other with no problem. Which means you got to play with all of your new Christmas toys, and chew on the wrapping paper we left way over there, and started a scuffle with your sister when you made a play for one of her toys.

As for me, my favorite part was snuggling up next to you all night and waking up every so often to watch you sleep. Somehow I doubt that will ever get old.

So, Merry Christmas, son.

Love,
Mom

Not Your Parents

Dear Jack,

These are not your parents. I know that over the course of the last month, you have spent a lot of time around them... something like twelve days and ten nights, to be precise. I know you have slept cuddled up between them and that they spoil you like crazy. I know they solved both your sinus infection and your diaper rash and that they don't let you fuss for more than a second without trying to fix things for you. But they aren't your parents.

This is also not your parent. I know she got up with you at four in the morning many many mornings this month. I know she lets you grab her hair just because you like to. I know she taught you how to eat solid food. I know she rode a carousel with you, got a motion sickness headache and everything just to share the experience with you. But she is not your parent.

Once again, not your parent. Yes, he held you while wearing his favorite t-shirt and you spat up all over it, and then he held you again, after it was clean, and you spat up all over it again and he didn't hold it against you. He does run out to the car to get anything you need and loves to make you laugh. But he is not your parent.

I am telling you all of this because lately you have seemed just a little bit confused. When your Uncle James died, your dad and I had to focus on getting through that crisis, on helping out your grandparents and your Aunt Rachel and cousin Will. We had to do a lot of things that were hard and we weren't always at our best. So to be the best parents we could be for you during that time, we had to decide to let you stay with Gonzalez's. There were four of them and they were able to spend all of their time and attention caring for you. It was a much, much, much better experience for you than being with your own stressed out parents would have been.

So that's why when your Aunt Dani brought you up to the funeral home to see me and I reach for you and you turned back to her, I knew I had chosen well. You see, for this last month, you felt that cared for and that loved.

Now, though, things are getting back to normal and you have your very own parents back.

But we'll still be seeing a lot of your Aunt Dani, Uncle Mark, Lillia, and Myles. And honestly, I think they are just as confused as you are because they still act like you might be their little boy.

And I love that about them. And I know you do, too.

Love,
Mom

The Best Medicine

Dear Jack,

I want you to know how much you have done for your grandma in the last few weeks. Even though you are a very little baby still, you were such a big help.

You see, when people lose a life that is dear to them, they like to have reminders of the preciousness of life, of the goodness of God's grace, and the promise of a future.

They also need a little joy.


Babies tend to provide all of that in one very adorable package.

I am so glad you were here to be that baby for your grandmother. It was nice to know that even in her grief, you could bring a smile to her face.

Babies really are, as she says, the best medicine.

Love,
Mom

Lost and Found

Dear Jack,

The recent loss of your Uncle James has your sister a little confused. You see, we told her that Uncle James had died and that a lot of people were sad. We explained a lot of things as best we could, but then we fell into saying that we had "lost" Uncle James. Your sister seemed to understand, but then when we picked Uncle Jonathan up from the airport, your sister very excitedly exclaimed, "I found him, I found Uncle James!"

They do look alike, your two uncles. But we had to explain to her that this was Uncle Jonathan, not Uncle James. Persisting, your sister maintained that we had "lost Uncle James" but we had "found Uncle Jonathan." Not wanting to argue the point, I let her continue to repeat the phrases.

By the end of the week, though, I began to see the wisdom in her thinking. We have lost Uncle James and although I firmly believe we will see him again in Eternity, it just isn't going to be the same and we miss him terribly. At the same time, it feels as though we have connected anew with your Uncle Jonathan. It has been almost three years since we last saw him and we have all changed in that time and spending a week with him in this time of grief helped all of us to reconnect and affirm those lasting family ties. We have lost Uncle James, but at least we found Uncle Jonathan.

It doesn't keep us from missing your Uncle James, but it makes me feel better to know you will have an uncle around who will love you and help teach you things and tell us stories about when your dad was a little boy.

Love,
Mom

Uncle James

Dear Jack,

Someday, when you are older, you will hear your dad and me (and a lot of other people) talk about your Uncle James.

You will hear stories about the time that Uncle James shot Uncle Jonathan with a bamboo skewer loaded in a BB gun.

Or the time that Uncle James threw a ball of solid ice at your dad and almost took out his eye.

You will hear stories about how your grandma had to bail Uncle James out of jail the night before your parents' wedding because of all those unpaid speeding tickets he liked to collect.

You will hear stories about Uncle James' tattoos and the one that he got and then developed MRSA (a pretty serious antibiotic resistant staph infection).

Or the story of the other tattoo your Uncle James got and then developed a second round of MRSA.

You will hear the story of the time your Uncle James tried to jump a truck while riding a trick bike being pulled by a piece of rope attached to another truck.

That story will be followed quickly by the story of the time Uncle James broke the tips off the two bones in his leg and then walked around for a couple of days thinking it was maybe a sprain.

The story of the time your Uncle James came over to go skeet shooting with your dad, only he didn't have a rifle case, so he walked up the stairs to our apartment wearing a "wife beater" shirt that showed off all of those famous tats with a rifle slung over his shoulder and the neighbors almost called the cops.

The story about the worst New Year's Eve ever where your dad and I stayed up all night cleaning up after the party your Uncle James threw at Grandma's house so that maybe (just maybe) your Uncle James would still have a place to live in the new year.

See, there are a lot of really funny Uncle James stories out there. We plan on telling them a lot. We hope you think that they are funny stories. But we also really hope you don't plan on reenacting any of them (especially the trick bike stunt -- even Uncle James admitted that was a mistake).

So I also want you to know that there are a whole lot of other Uncle James stories.

The story about how he learned to weld and made a barbecue pit for your dad and even named it "The Pit of Despair" to reference The Princess Bride, which was one of his very favorite movies.

The story about the Thanksgiving that he came up here and made the very best turkey ever even though he was by far the youngest cook in the house.

The story about how whenever he came up to see us, he would sharpen all of our cooking knives because it was a subtle and quiet way he could be helpful.

The story about how he joined the Army because he wasn't happy with where his life was going and he knew he wanted to do better.

Of how excited he was to be a part of such a brotherhood, how much he loved doing things like jumping out of perfectly good planes, and how proud he was to be a soldier.

The story about when he first met your Aunt Rachel, he was too nervous to talk to her, so he played with your cousin Will instead.

The story about how when he brought Aunt Rachel and Will to see us, he was so loving and attentive to both of them, rough housing with Will, hugging on Aunt Rachel.

The story about how when he left for Afghanistan, he made sure he had moved Aunt Rachel and Will to a new house, bought a deep freeze and filled it with food because he wanted to make sure they were cared for.

The story about how he would climb buildings in Afghanistan to get cell phone reception so he could call Aunt Rachel and check on her, Will, and the baby.

Those stories might not be the funny ones, but I hope you listen to them as well, because they speak so much to your Uncle James' character, and it is his character that I do so hope you will emulate.

How he never stayed mad at your dad or Uncle Jon (or anybody else), no matter what they did.

How everyone who spent any amount of time at all around him, feel in love with him.

How patient he was with little kids -- especially little kids he considered family.

How full of life and happy he was.



I'm telling you all of this because a week ago, on November 22, 2009, we found out that Uncle James was killed in Afghanistan and the thing that is breaking everyone's hearts right now is that you and your sister, and Uncle James' son Will and his little Peanut on the way, and all the other kids that get to share in this Nolen family, won't get to make new Uncle James stories.


So I want you to know, your Uncle James story is this: when Uncle James came down to Texas from North Carolina to let the family meet Aunt Rachel and Will, he made a point to come the extra eight hours out of his way to see you, to be there when you were baptized, and to welcome you to the family. Because family was everything to Uncle James.

All the other Uncle James stories, you will share with your sister and cousins, but that one is yours.

Cherish it, and as you get older, if you do find yourself trying out some really off-the-wall stunts and tricks, know you come by it honestly. And Uncle James would be proud.

Love,
Mom

Can You Get ANY Cuter?

Dear Jack,

Thbbbt to you, too!

Love,
Mom

Six Months Old

Dear Jack,

Today is your six month birthday. We are halfway to that magical one-year mark.

A lot of things about this time aren't quite how I pictured them to be.

I thought I would still be nursing you, but over the last month, your nursing sessions got shorter and shorter and your formula intake got bigger and bigger until it was time to just be done. I'm sorry I didn't make it to a year with you, or even six months, but I will say that the pressure of pumping at work and not being able to share the joy of feeding you with your dad were intense and five months of wonderful breastmilk will just have to be enough.

I also thought you would be sleeping through the night by now. Everyone says not to compare siblings and I should have listened to them. Your sister sleeping through the night at four months has about as much to do with you as the migratory patterns of African swallows.

I had no idea you would be this mobile... you can roll across a room, roll back to front and front to back at will, get up on all fours and inch forward with your legs (which results in a face plant as your hands and arms don't really know what to do, yet). In short, you may be crawling any day now.

Your take on solid food has also surprised me. As hungry as you get (and as angry as you get about being hungry), I would have thought solid food would have been very exciting for you. Instead, you have my sensitive gag reflex and make the most horrid faces as the solid food hits the back of your tongue. You absolutely, positively, without a doubt HATE rice cereal. They say you have to introduce foods up to a dozen times in order for a child to take to that food. After try number fourteen, we realized it just wasn't going to happen. I had no idea little babies could purse their lips so tightly closed. On a related note, we are on try number four with the dreaded green beans, but on try two with peas, you thought they might be okay and just this evening, we tried oatmeal which you refused to eat in your highchair, but took to just fine if your daddy was holding you.

Your dad and I are as enamored of you as I had imagined we would be, but your sister is far more your friend and champion than I would have thought this early on. Just this evening, I had you up at my school for the Kindergarten play and all the students were touching your hands and arms and your sister came over and lowered the shade on your stroller, saying, "That's my brother!"

Six months. Was it only six months ago that I was eating lunch at Mama Fu's all in a tither over the impending c-section?

I can hardly remember all that upset. I expected that a c-section would be just terrible, but like so many of my other experiences, the expectation and the reality were far removed from each other. But I will say this: if none of my other exceptions for your first year are met, could I at least have the one where you start sleeping through the night?

At least a few times a week?

Love,
Mom

Dormez-vous?

Dear Jack,

You are, right now, asleep in your very own crib.

Not the pack and play.

Not my bed.

Not my arms.

In your crib.

For the first time ever.

Sigh.

What's that I see? Is it a light? At the end of a very long, very rewarding tunnel?

I think maybe it is.

Love,
Mom

Halloween 2009

Dear Jack,

Happy Halloween!


Love,
Mom

A Little Bit of History

Dear Jack,

As a historian, I am fascinated by the idea that we are living through what will become your history. What will look back on as significant moments? What shared experiences will define your generation?

Will you heard people asking, for example, if you were alive during the H1N1 influenza outbreak of aught nine?

You were, of course. And we recently had your H1N1 "scare." Of course, by "scare" I mean a very overly cautious nurse practitioner calling your 102.4 degree fever a sign of flu (among other things) and giving you a flu test (which cost $35) and then reading a barely (if at all) visible red line as a positive test result.

Out of respect (and maybe concern) for all the other babies and older folks in our lives, we kept you from daycare for three days and didn't take you up to church.

A quarantine, really, is what I am describing.

After 24 hours, your fever broke, to be followed by a reduction in appetite and copious amounts of drool.

Last night, I thought I felt a little bump in your lower gum.

So there you have it. Your H1N1 story.

Or possibly, the story of how you started cutting your first tooth.

Love,
Mom

Aunt Jennie Sue

Dear Jack,

Living as far away as we do, you won't get to see a lot of your Aunt Jennie Sue and that's a shame. Aunt Jennie has eight boys of her own and that makes her more than an expert on little boys.

I think about this because a couple of years ago, Aunt Jennie Sue gave your sister a Glow Worm as a gift... a Christmas present, I believe. Your sister didn't really think much of it at the time and so now it is yours.

You love it. A lot.

I mean, you really, really, really love that Glow Worm.

You hug it. You kiss it. You look at it. It is, in fact, the only thing in this world that can get you to go to sleep in your crib. You will actually stop in the middle of a screaming fit to look at its glowy face and listen to its pleasant lullabies. One night, when you were particularly sleep resistant, I pressed that Glow Worm's tummy at least forty times. And you slept because of it.

I didn't get the Glow Worm with your sister. I guess maybe it's a boy thing.

Aunt Jennie Sue would know.

And that's why even though you won't see her very often, I think the two of you will get along pretty well.

Love,
Mom

Sweet Berry Farm

Dear Jack,

As a teacher and a mother, I find it so very easy to take time in the summers to do whatever you and your sister want to do, to find interesting places to go and neat things to do.

It's much more difficult during the school year.

That's why I was so grateful that your dad and I took the time to take you and your sister out to Sweet Berry Farm this weekend. It was your five month birthday and it was nice to just spent the day doing something out of the ordinary.

My favorite moment was when your dad and sister had left to go on a hayride (your sister's favorite part, by the way). You and I were somewhat stuck with nothing to do. You were fussy and in the end, the only thing to do was settle down under a shade tree and discretely nurse you. Sitting there, holding you, looking around at all of those other families, spending time together warmed my heart.

Isn't it funny that it takes leaving the house to go somewhere off in the middle of the hill country to take the time to really enjoy the simple moments. Taking time to relish the mother-son bond. Taking time to sit and and marvel at God's handiwork... in the fall colors, in the warm sun, in your face and in your sister's.

Taking time to smell the pumpkins, if you will.

Love,
Mom

Five Months Old

Dear Jack,

Your five month birthday was yesterday. You also stayed with a sitter in the evening for the first time. Yes, that means that after five months, your dad and I got to go out on a date.

When I think about going that long without an evening alone with your dad, five months seems like forever. When I think about how it was five months ago yesterday that you were born, five months seems like a blink of an eye.

Isn't it funny how time works?

Love,
Mom

Jack o' Lantern

Dear Jack,

Your best hope is that I grow tired of these little plays on words before you start school.


Love,
Mom

Anyone Seen Labyrinth Lately?

Dear Jack,

You remind me of the babe.


Love,
Mom

Cereal

Dear Jack,

Guess who started eating cereal last Saturday?

Guess who still stays up until midnight and wakes up again at two thirty and then five in the morning?

Guess that whole cereal will make 'em sleep through the night business is overstated, huh?

Love,
Mom

In Favor of Bottles

Dear Jack,

I do still love nursing you. But now that you are four months old and we're doing a mix of breast milk and formula, I have to say, there are times when you having a bottle... especially you holding your own bottle... is a blessing.

Love,
Mom

A Little Help

Dear Jack,

After learning how to make crinkly taggie squares for you and seeing how much you liked them, I thought I would make some to take up to the church for Harvest Fest.

You thought this was a grand idea and really enjoyed helping me out. You even managed to find the crinkly material on the table to sample.


What did I ever do without you?

Love,
Mom

Yelling at Babies?

Dear Jack,

As a general rule, I don't think adults should yell at children. There are exceptions, of course: fire, walking into busy streets, juggling knives, mostly safety issues.

Also as a general rule, I think most of those exceptions don't really apply to babies. Who ever needed to yell at a baby for going into the street? In fact, I really couldn't think of a single reason why an adult should yell at a baby. Ever.

Then you bit me.

You may not have teeth, son, but wow that hurt.

I yelled. You stopped.

Let's not do that again, okay?

Love,
Mom

Another Orange Crab

Dear Jack,

I just took your official four month picture and put it on the side of your blog.

Unfortunately, because of how small the picture is, I don't think anyone can see the secret orange crab.

I was so happy when I found it... I thought you had already worn all of your crabbie outfits in pictures.

Love,
Mom

Endorphins, or something

Dear Jack,

Holding a baby is very relaxing. Somebody once told me that there are all of these endorphins released and that's what makes it so relaxing.

I don't really know the science behind it.

I just know that if we are the least bit sleep deprived, neither your father nor I can hold you for very long without drifting off... just for minute.

I got to be standing there when you kicked your dad and startled him awake.

Payback for all the times he has startled you awake with his sneezes, I'm sure.

Love,
Mom

Rolling Around

Dear Jack,

Your mobility astounds me. I was watching you in the playroom and realized that I should go get the video camera.

Otherwise I will never believe myself that you were rolling back and forth this easily at less than four months old.

I have to wonder if you are rolling around so well now, how soon will you crawl or even walk. Don't misunderstand my tone, here. Everyone agrees that early walkers are a challenge.

So keep on rolling, son. For many, many months. Learn some reasonableness. Then walk.

Love,
Mom

A Little Orange Crab

Dear Jack,

In case you hadn't noticed, I like the color orange on you a lot. A whole lot. When I pregnant with you, I felt myself drawn to clothes with little orange crabs. This is silly, I know, but it's true. (Your sister, by the way, was a little yellow duck, in my mind.)

I decided that the logic for the orange was that yellow had been your sister's color and really, yellow, orange, and green are the three big options for gender neutral baby clothes and since we didn't know with either of you whether to buy blue or pink, we had to go with one of the other color options. So, yellow had been "taken" by your sister. Leaving green and orange. Why not green? I don't know. I just liked the orange.

As for the crab? Well, you were born in May, so a lot of the clothes I bought for you were summer clothes, so the crab I guess is beachy and several clothing lines seemed to have crabs on a least one or two of their outfits. I think you owned at least four orange crab outfits... one from Carters, one from Target, and two from Gymboree. So the crab was available.

But more than that, I think with your sister born on your father's birthday, I really wanted you to be a summer baby with me and Cancer the crab is my zodiac sign and I have always identified with certain aspects of a crab... the tough outer shell, the water, the affinity for home that a hermit crab has. So, when I thought of a crab and you, I was always thinking a little of myself. (And never thinking the word "crabby," I promise.)

So here we are, September, and you have completely outgrown two of your crab outfits and are really close to outgrowing the other two.

This made me really sad. It also made me dash out to the outlet mall....

This one will be for next summer.

Love,
Mom

(Where) Are You Sleeping?

Dear Jack,

When your sister was three months old, I transitioned her out of the parental bed into her very own bassinet in the master bedroom. Then, at four months old, she started sleeping in her crib in her own room across the house.

You will be four months old in another couple of weeks and I have yet to make any effort to transition you anywhere.

Why would I? You sleep so well snuggled up next to me. Most nights, you still wake up to nurse at least once, although you do sleep through the night at least once a week.

We hold hands while you sleep, I watch your eyes flutter closed. I wake up to the sound of your breathing.

Why would I give that up?

I guess because every little boy has to leave his mama's bed eventually. But I realized with your sister that once you move the baby out of the family bed, there's no going back and all that time she was across the house, I might have slept better, I still missed her a lot.

So, eventually is not today.

And I'm so glad of that.

Love,
Mom

Jack's Feet

Dear Jack,

I think it's your Aunt Dani who talks about that stage when babies discover their feet. It's a really adorable phase and you are currently in it.

This means that you are purposefully grasping things and bringing them to your mouth. You can actually play with toys and when there are no toys to play with, your feet and hands will do, for now.

Also, it's really cute to see baby contortionist tricks.

Love,
Mom

A Toy for Jack

Dear Jack,

I made this for you. A crinkly taggie blanket square.

And you are actually playing with it.

That warms my heart.

Love,
Mom

My Sweet Boy

Dear Jack,

You would think I would get tired of just sitting and looking at you.

But I don't.

Love,
Mom

Snuggle, Nurse, Snuggle, Sleep

Dear Jack,

This is the start of my second full week back at work. You are doing great at the sitter's... she talks about how well you sleep, even with the other kids' noises, how much she holds you, how you take the bottle really well, how you actually wave your arms at toys and interact with things.

In the evenings, though, all you want to do is snuggle, nurse, snuggle, sleep, wash, rinse, repeat.

Last week, I was kind of busy getting ready for the Kindergarteners, so that was a little bit of a challenge.

Today, after that first day of school, I was right there with you. Snuggle, nurse, snuggle, sleep.

Love,
Mom

Careful How You Answer This

Dear Jack,

Does it make me a bad mother that I think you are absolutely, positively, amazingly adorable when you cry?

I hope not.

Love,
Mom

Sleeping Through the Night

Dear Jack,

You slept through the night last night.

I know I should be excited that I got all that sleep, but the truth is that with you right beside me in the bed, waking to feed you really wasn't that big of a deal. So really, at 6AM, when I realized what had happened, I was just a little sad that we missed each other in the middle of the night.

Love,
Mom

Smells

Dear Jack,

I picked you up from the sitter's today and you smelled wrong.

They say mothers and newborns can identify each other by smell alone and I think they're right.

When I picked you up today, you smelled like the sitter. It wasn't a bad smell. In fact, it was a smell that told me that she spent a lot of time holding you today.

But you didn't smell like my baby.

I was in a wretched mood all evening until your father finally pieced it all together and pointed out that I could bathe you. And then snuggle with you myself. Making you smell like me again.

Isn't it funny to realize that as far as we've come, there is still something so very primal in us all?

Love,
Mom

The Last Day of Summer

Dear Jack,

Today was The Last Day of Summer.

I like to pack The Last Day of Summer with lots of fun activities, revisiting old favorites, and spending time with our friends before everyone has to go back to work or school.

I know you are still very little and all of the baby books say that quite literally I am all the stimulation you require... a mama's face, voice, and touch are really all you need to be entertained and enriched.

So, I guess, for you this day wasn't the most fun. The last three days that you spent sitting with me nursing through your three month growth spurt were so much better from your perspective.

But next summer, when you are old enough to ride the rides and not just sleep, I think you will appreciate that this tradition was started with your sister before you were born and will continue to be added to and enhanced as you get older and have your favorite places to revisit on The Last Day of Summer.

Love,
Mom

Three Month Growth Spurt

Dear Jack,

You nursed thirteen times yesterday.

To put it in perspective, you had gone to a mere eight nursing sessions a day. Right now, it's not even ten in the morning and you have nursed five times today.

I think you may be having your three month growth spurt a little early and I couldn't be happier. If you had waited until your actual three month birthday, I would have been at work and would have missed out on the marathon nursing schedule.

Happy Growing!

Love,
Mom

All Good Things...

Dear Jack,

With me going back to work and you headed off to the sitter's each morning starting next week, our days of sitting around the house all day, snuggled in the nursing chair are coming to a close.

But I want you to know that I have thoroughly enjoyed them, and we'll still have the evenings and nights.

Love,
Mom

Too Much of a Good Thing?

Dear Jack,

While it is possible to have too much of a good thing, the warm fuzzy feelings I get when I see you laying on the blanket my Mema crocheted, next to crocheted donuts, wearing crocheted shoes make me think this is not one of those times.

Although a lot of folks might think it is.

Love,
Mom

Sleeping Jack

Dear Jack,

You, asleep, are just about the most adorable thing in the world to me.

Love,
Mom

Swirly Things

Dear Jack,

This is the view out the window of the room I normally sit in to nurse you.

You really have no idea how much time I have spent, looking at you, looking out that window.

Which is why having the swirly things makes me so very happy.

Love,
Mom

Balancing Act

Dear Jack,

I am having a little bit of a hard time right now. You see, I love my job. Teaching Kindergarten is a lot of fun and it's rewarding and I happen to think I'm pretty good at it, and being good at a thing almost always makes it even more enjoyable.

So here we are, the end of July, and I am excited to be starting a new school year. I've been up to the room and looked over the furniture, deciding how to arrange it. I've started contemplating new centers I want to put together in the next few weeks. In short, I have begun to switch gears from being a mom to being a teacher.

That means that you also have to switch gears. You have to go from nursing to bottle feeding, from being held while you sleep to being able to sleep on your own, from being with someone who can spend an hour watching you sleep, or marveling at the cuteness of your toes to being with someone who just likes you a lot.

And I simply cannot help but feel maternal guilt for all of that. Especially since I am excited to be going back to work at the very same time that I am sorry that means you have to go to day care.

I think you are going to like day care. You'll get to be around other babies and kids and the lady I take you to is really good at her job. I've taken you to day care for a couple of half days this week and although you had some trouble taking a bottle that very first day, you did eventually eat and seemed very full and content when I picked you up.

Finally, even though you might, at some level, rather stay at home all day with me, that's not really how I work. All of the cool things I like to do with you and and your sister and all of the fun we're going to have as you get older are a function of me getting out of the house and doing something for other people's kids for part of the day. It leaves me excited for every minute I get to spend with you because I'm not with you all the time.

In short, for me, working at a job I love when I'm away from you makes me a better mother when we're together. That's really why I do it.

Love,
Mom

Not Rocket Science

Dear Jack,

It's not rocket science. It's not even a full roll. But I think purposefully rolling from your back to your side at just over two months is pretty amazing.

Love,
Mom

Baby Legs

Dear Jack,

Here's another one for your baby book: BabyLegs. Fad? Trend? The start of something wonderful? A terrible 80's flashback?

I have no idea. But I sure do think you look adorable wearing them.

Love,
Mom

He's Getting So Big!

Dear Jack,

It seems like everywhere we go these days, when we run into someone who knows you, they all say the very same thing,

"He's getting so big!"

I'm actually a little annoyed with that phrase (but maybe just because I'm enjoying this little baby time a lot). Nevertheless, I keep having to agree with it....

"He's getting so big!"

Because on the one hand, I guess you are. I took you to the doctor for your two month shots (boy, you hated those) and you now weigh in at 12 pounds, 12 and half ounces and are 24 inches long. That puts you around the 75% in both weight and height for babies your age.

Even compared to the 9 pounds, 4 ounces, 22 inch baby that came into the world just over two months ago, you are getting so big.

You can hold your head up for fairly long periods of time. You can face forward in the Baby Bjorn carrier and look out on the world. You sit up well in your Bumbo chair. You can inch yourself on the floor by pushing with your feet. You follow things with your eyes and seem very interested in the world around you.

I put you in a polo shirt and shorts for church today. That's what big boys wear to church.


So, yes, you are getting so big.

But before we get carried away, Mister, I do want to point out that your big boy shirt has a line of spit-up on it.

You may be growing at an astonishing rate, but you are still a little baby. So let's not break out the college applications just, yet.

Love,
Mom

A Day Away

Dear Jack,

Yesterday was a big day for you. I had a summer staff development day, so you had to be away from me all day long. It was the first time we had been apart for more than an hour or so. I did better than I thought I would and you did great (in large part because of the loving care Kristi Bruton and her girls gave you).

But it still makes me a little sad that it signifies the end of our days of hanging out together, sun up to sun down. I try to remind myself that sun down to sun up we'll still be snuggled together.

It's not exactly what I would want, but until they let little babies attend Kindergarten, it's the best we'll have.

See you tonight.

Love,
Mom

A Mystery

Dear Jack,

I have a little bit of a mystery on my hands, and unfortunately, you are the only one who can clear things up.

This is how I left you this afternoon:



This is how you were when I came back a few minutes later to check on you:

Now, I have seen you inch along by pushing your feet into the blanket and I know you happily flail about with enough strength and gusto to flip yourself, so maybe you just rolled over for the first time. But any good investigator knows to check all the facts, and the fact is your sister was in the room with you at the time and may have been something of an accomplice to this rolling feat.

Since neither of you are forthcoming with information about the incident, the mystery may remain unsolved. Which irritates me because I want so badly to know whether or not to put this down in your baby book as the first time you rolled over (which I think it is) or to remind your sister to be careful of you (which she has always been).

In either case, your days of hanging out alone on my bed while I get ready in the mornings are officially over, just to be on the safe side.

Love,
Mom

P.S. Here's a video of you smiling. Since I wasn't able to capture the rolling over on film, I settled for making a video of your other latest accomplishment.

In the Moment

Dear Jack,

You are two months old today and my challenge these days with you is enjoying the moment, without dwelling on the past, or worrying about the future.

In the past: You have already changed so much from birth. You are bigger, more alert, stronger. You are an infant, no longer a newborn. You can hold your head up, smile and make eye contact. I mourn the loss of those newborn days, and in that loss, I cling to everything about you today and anticipate the loss of it all... of nursing you, of midnight feedings, of an hour or more of just sitting and holding you.

In the future: I'll be going back to work in exactly a month, on your three month birthday. Between now and then, you and I have to break our rhythm of nursing which we have both enjoyed so much and help you learn to take a bottle and be soothed by someone other than me.

In the present: This is where I want to be. Nursing you, cuddling with you, sleeping next to you at night, waking up to you at one in the morning and loving it. Enjoying every moment with you without obsessing over the idea that this may be the last time I have all day to nurse you, or hold you, or be with you.

So there you have it. My goal. You and me. In the moment.


Love,
Mom

I am completely unable to title this post without making a pun about Jack wearing a certain type of fall/winter clothing. Maybe I'll try again later.

Dear Jack,

In anticipation of your two month birthday tomorrow, I just took your official two month picture. It is July and 105 degrees outside and I put you in a hooded jacket with a matching knitted hat.

I know that seems silly, but the thing is that I bought that jacket and hat when I was pregnant with your sister because I loved it and if she had been a boy, it would have been hers. Instead, my boy came two and half years later, and it's that half year that matters... your sister would have worn that jacket in January (and she did in fact wear the pink version that January that she was two months old).



This jacket is sized 3-6 months, so there is an off chance that you might be able to wear it this coming October. Maybe. But really, you probably wore it for the one and only time for this picture. And somehow, that's worth it to me. To see you and your sister, side by side, two months old and adorable with your matching jackets.

But from now on, if you look the slightest bit cold in the house, you know what I'm going to put on you.

Love,
Mom

Grateful to not be a cavewoman

Dear Jack,

Someday, when you read this, you will find this note to be very sweet and uplifting, or just plain morbid.

This will depend largely on which one of your parents you take after the most.

Earlier today, your father and I were talking about my impending return to work next month and I was expressing some sadness that I wouldn't be able to nurse you all day long as I had been. To which your father replied, "Because you aren't a cavewoman."

This is true, I think, because I am not a cavewoman and a cavewoman would nurse her offspring daily through to the age of two or so, I think, but wouldn't "stay at home mom" or "1950's housewife" fit better in the context?

No, because your father has farther to travel on this thought-train (and has apparently ridden it before), "And if you were a cavewoman, you would be dead..."

At first, I resent the implication that I would make a bad cavewoman. I mean, of course I would make a terrible cavewoman, but it's only because I was born in the 20th century and don't have the proper training. Surely if I had been born in cavewoman times, I would be fine.

Except that's not the point at all (continuing to the next trainstop), "...because Jack was breech and you would have died in childbirth."

This is where you will either feel a sense of sweet joy that your mother was not, in fact, a cavewoman, or a twisting of your gut that death came so very close (in a weird theoretical sort of way).

Your father, apparently, stops to think this several times a day, to savor the fact that he didn't lose either of us. (He even has, in his head, a timeline that details at which point in history both of us would have died in childbirth and at what point - say, 1900 - you could have survived being breech and I would have bled out on some turn of the century operating table, or from post-surgical infections.)

His point, of course, is that we should be eternally grateful for living in this modern age when you being breech turned out to be a minor inconvenience and not a death sentence.

He's right, of course. But I still think it's morbid.

So, here's to your mother, not being a cavewoman. And here's to your dad, who had the sense not to say any of this in the operating room when you were born, even though I'm certain he was thinking it at the time.

Love,
Mom

Bumbo

Dear Jack,

There is a lot of unnecessary baby gear in the world. A whole lot.

Some of it is just an evil plan to guilt new parents into spending obscene amounts of money. I'll put anything with the words "organic" that isn't actually food in this category. Organic t-shirts? Really? And your other 100% cotton t-shirts are made of what?

Some of it is unnecessary based solely on the parents' style. Since you sleep in the bed with me, I consider a bassinet to be utterly useless. Except to hold your dirty clothes. But if I wanted you to sleep on your own, I guess a bassinet would be a nice thing.

Some of it is unnecessary in the sense that it is new and millions upon millions of babies have made it through to adulthood without this thing, but it does a neat thing and we new mamas think it's all the rage and simply must have it.

Introducing the Bumbo chair.

They started making these in 2007, which means your sister is even too old to have had one. I can't decide if they are going to become the newest baby must have, or turn into a weird fad of the late aughts.

Maybe they'll still be making them when your generation is having kids, or maybe they'll be something that totally dates you... "look, you had a Bumbo chair, you must have been born around '08, right?"

Either way, I thought someday it would be fun to look back at this picture.

I probably wouldn't have sprung for a Bumbo chair for you... they sell for $40 and they are only really useful for a few months (like most baby things, I guess). Happily, Mrs. Hazen let us borrow hers until Baby Hazen arrives in about six months.

How do you feel about this Bumbo chair and my own personal debate over whether or not they are a useful piece of baby equipment? Well, we put you in it for the first time yesterday, you sunk down nicely, and then gave your dad and me your very first official social smile.

So, I guess you like it. And that's all I really care about anyway.

Love,
Mom



Disclaimer: You should never, ever leave a baby unattended on an elevated surface in a Bumbo chair. I have to mention that because Mrs. Hazen let me use hers and she really wanted me to know that was on the warning label. You were attended the whole time, I promise.

Smiles

Dear Jack,

Yesterday was my birthday. I got a lot of neat presents and saw a lot of fun friends, but my very favorite birthday moment was the one in which you looked up at me and smiled.

Thanks for the birthday present!

Love,
Mom

Leveling Up

Dear Jack,

There is a genre of games called RPGs (Role Playing Games) which are characterized by having characters who "level up" over the course of the game, gaining new skills and abilities.

Babies, I think, level up. You go through these growth spurts and then you come out with new things you can do. Last growth spurt, you took "increased stomach size" which enabled you to go longer in between meals. A cool trick, I thought.

This time, you seemed to have taken "stay awake longer" which is also a useful skill. You first tried out your new ability yesterday, from about 3PM to 6PM. I knew something was up because you have never, ever stayed awake for three hours straight before. Aside from times when you were actually eating, you tended to only be awake for thirty minutes or so, and often you would wake up only long enough to eat and then you would be right back asleep. So, for you, at least, this being awake for three hours at a time is a whole new world.

Unfortunately for both of us, until you level up a few more times and take "increased gross motor skill" and "basic hand eye co-ordination" as new feats, this whole new world of wakefulness you have discovered is peppered with a great deal of boredom.


It wasn't really a problem at 3PM yesterday. You had your bright and shiny new IKEA toy to look at, and your sister was around and she's always a load of laughs, and you did nurse twice in those three hours, so that killed some time.

No, the problems started at midnight last night (this morning) when you decided to use your new skill in the middle of the night when your sister (and the IKEA toy) are fast asleep and your mom would like to be as well. I try to be an entertaining kind of mom. I do fun things, I play, I come up with activities. But I do all of these things during the day. In the middle of the night, I mostly lie in bed.

I mean, I did talk to you and nurse you several times, and I tried to sound a lot less grumpy than I felt... you are still super cute, even at one in the morning, but by 3AM, when you did finally go to sleep, I was thinking back fondly on the many, many nights we have shared together in which, aside from the couple of nursing sessions, we both slept most of the night away.

Over the next few months, I am sure that you will acquire all sorts of new abilities, and some of those abilities (like "stay awake longer") will infringe on my sleep. So, while I might look forward to the time when you take "sleep through the night" or even just "distinguishing between days and nights" as new skills, I am endeavoring to enjoy our time together no matter what.

Because, of course, the final goal of all of this leveling up you have already started on is becoming a grown-up yourself, and when that happens, I will look back and miss the time when you were a brand new baby who had just learned how to stay awake, even in the middle of the night.

Love,
Mom

Window Box

Dear Jack,

About a year ago I planted a pinwheel garden with your sister. She and I enjoy it every time we go outside. You, on the other hand, don't really notice it at all.

Probably because you don't really go in the backyard, and even when you do, you stay on the deck and honestly, I'm not sure how great your eyesight is these days anyway.

So, for you, I planted a pinwheel window box by your changing table.


I hope you like it.

Love,
Mom

Happy 4th of July

Dear Jack,

Happy 4th of July!

Love,
Mom

100 Degrees

Dear Jack,

It was 100 degrees today. It has been 100 degrees or so for the last week or two. It will probably be 100 degrees a lot this summer. After all, we live in Texas.

I normally don't like the heat all that much, but like any born and bread Texan can stand it long enough to do the things I want to be doing. Your sister and dad are pretty much the same way.

You are the weak link in our family these days. Being only six weeks old, you aren't too good at regulating your body temperature, you don't have an easy way of saying, "hey, I'm hot," and you tend to need to be held, which makes a body even hotter.

So how in the world do we get to enjoy our backyard this summer?


A mister, an umbrella, an old kiddie pool, and a blanket your Nana made (with a towel underneath it for added cushioning) seemed to do the trick... for about twenty minutes or so anyway.

Hope you enjoyed your time outside.

In between feedings, of course.

Love,
Mom

Growth Spurt

Dear Jack,

You nursed yesterday at 3:30, 4:30, 6:30, 7:30, 8:30, and 10:00 before going to bed for the night. You woke at your typical one, four, and seven, and then ate again at 9:30, 10:30, 11:30, and 12:30.

I think you may be going through a growth spurt.

Somehow I feel better about this whole process having come to that conclusion.

Happy growing!

Love,
Mom

Backseat Help

Dear Jack,

You may not always appreciate her, but I do want you to know that your sister tries to help you any way she can.

Love,
Mom

Dear Jack,

I want you to really look at this picture. I want you to see your father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. With you, that makes four generations of Nolen men. I want you to watch these men and use their examples when deciding how to live your life. I want you to be proud to carry the Nolen name.


And when you are older and wonder where you got your distinctive ears, I don't want you blaming me one bit... the Nolen I married got his ears from his mother's side of the family.

Love,
Mom

Baptism

Dear Jack,

We had your baptism today. You won't remember it, but I hope you will grow to understand it, appreciate it, and, when the time comes, confirm it with your own profession of faith.

Love,
Mom





P.S. A whole lot of folks love you a lot and came from all sorts of far away places just to be present during this event. Even more folks love you a lot and weren't able to make it today. I am so grateful to each and every one of them... those present in person and those present in spirit.

Excited

Dear Jack,

I am excited. Excited that your Uncle James and his family will be here soon. Excited that your dad is on the way back from the airport with Grandpa and Nana Nolen. Excited that your other grandmas will both be here soon. The whole family is gathering and that is exciting.

But more exciting is the reason for the gathering: your baptism this Sunday.

I am excited that God sent His son for your salvation and for mine. I am excited that God offers you the gift of baptism and that I will be able to give you that gift tomorrow. I am excited that you are a child of God and that tomorrow, in front of all of this family, we will make that statement publicly, boldly, and quite officially.

I am excited for you.

Love,
Mom

One in the Morning

Dear Jack,

These were my thoughts at one in the morning:

God, in His infinite wisdom, made the cry of a newborn baby to be one of the most piercing, adrenaline raising, urgent sounds in the world. Only to that newborn's mother. All other newborn cries are just cries. That makes so much sense evolutionarily. It does not make sense at 1AM.

You are particularly adorable when your face is all red and scrunched up. Also, most newborns don't cry real tears. You, my boy, are advanced.

Love,
Mom

Finding the Joy

Dear Jack,

You are a pretty easy baby. You cry pretty much only when you are hungry, so as long as you can nurse on demand (which we do), you stay calm and happy most of the day. You go predictably for two to three hours in between feedings, so I can be fairly sure that having fed you, we can go out for an hour and half or so and do fun things, or just run errands. You like being in the Moby Wrap and sling that I have, so it's nice to walk around with you close, but you also like your swing, so I have the option of putting you down when I need to.

See, mostly very easy.

Of course, all bets are off in the evenings. You are a fussy, fussy guy in the evenings. From about six or seven until about eleven o'clock at night, you want to nurse pretty much the entire time. You nurse until you fall asleep and then you wake up any time I try to move you and then you scream and cry until you can nurse again (and really, that milk is not a truly never-ending supply, so for at least thirty to forty five minutes in the middle of all of this, we have to take a break and you hate taking that break and often cry until you can nurse again). Holding you, rocking you, putting you in your swing, none of these things work. So really, for about four hours every evening, I sit in a chair, holding you and nursing you.

There is a big part of me that misses the time when I could do what I wanted in the evenings. Your marathon nursing time is also the "after your sister goes to bed and grown ups can do what they want" time and since nursing is not one of your father's many talents, he's still doing whatever he wants while I am pretty much limited to sitting in a chair with you.

Sigh. Or, to put it another way, you and I are bonding each and every evening at a time when your sister is fast asleep and doesn't need my attention anyway. I hold you and look at you and smell you and just marvel at how beautiful you are. I remind myself that the days of having evenings to do what I want are just around the corner and the days of holding a newborn will come to a close so much faster than I want them to. I thank God that He gave me such a gift as you and that I am able to sit and nurse you like I wanted to. I just try to slow down and enjoy the moments.

I find the joy.

Love,
Mom