Thursday, September 15, 2005

My Baby

Well, I can't technically call him a baby for much longer. He's almost two now. I cannot believe how quickly time passes. Just yesterday it seems he was beginning Mother's Day Out and now he's reciting his ABC's and counting to 13... For some reason, once he gets to 13, he restarts at number 2. He's singing songs, having conversations, playing make-believe, getting into EVERYTHING, and really starting to show his stubbornness.

Joey, baby, you are so precious to me. I cannot believe how much you have changed in two short years.

Two years ago, today, I was anxiously awaiting your arrival and wondering if you would be on-time, early, or make us wait. You made us wait four days past your expected date of arrival! I guess you weren't in a hurry! Those first few days sure were hectic, too! We brought you home to a myriad of packing boxes and general messiness as we were preparing to close on our new housse and move. After spending two days at the hospital, we were allowed to bring you home. Your Nana and GrandDad were staying with us, but they decided to give us some privacy as we brought you home for the very first time that Saturday, September 27th in 2003. We brought you home in your perfectly coordinated Ralph Lauren light blue onesie trimmed in navy with a matching hat, booties, and receiving blanket. The hat was much too big! You didn't care, though.

Once we walked through the door, you met the other members of our family, namely Nick, Snoop, and Sugar. None of them knew what to make of this new human who had just entered their world, but since you were relatively quiet and not really coordinated in your movements, they decided you weren't so bad after all. They changed their opinions once you began moving and screaming/crying, but for the time being, they regarded you with interest only. Nick, now forever known as Bubba, would soon become your best babysitter and protector. He will protect you his entire life, you know. He is your devoted slave. He gently tolerates the pulling of his tail, tongue, teeth, and other protruding body parts, accepts your hugs and kisses, and is your willing jungle gym. When you were an infant, and were down for a nap, he would lay down next to your crib until you started to wake up. At that point, he would come get me if I wasn't already there.

Snoop and Sugar were more wary. They let you pet her later on, but mainly they avoided you.

Your first day at home was marked by much napping and many visitors. Your Nana and GrandDad, of course, were there because they were staying with us. Your Uncle John came to visit, as did your GrandDodi, Papa, and Uncle Tyler. You accepted all your visitors in stride as you were used to it, what with all the visitors in the hospital (besides your grandparents and Uncle John, Mommy and Daddy's friends also visited... Karly, Shonda, Lisa Thomas, "Aunt" Dede, "Aunt" Maureen, and Gina all came to see YOU!).

Then it was time to go to bed. Now, your Nana came down specifically to stay with you during the night so that Mommy and Daddy could get some rest, but we decided we wanted to keep you with us that first night. Ohhh, baby! Were we ever in for it! Sweetheart, you cried and screamed and had a rumbly tummy and gas all night long! I think between the three of us, we may have slept for a total of one hour that night. Mommy and Daddy decided that we'd go ahead and let Nana help out! ;-)

Days two and three at home were spent packing and holding you. Your Daddy cooked me breakfast and served it to me in bed after letting me sleep in. He was really great! And the breakfast wasn't bad, either. ;-)

Then came moving day... We began the evening of the 29th, after closing on the house. GrandDad, who had to drive back to Round Rock that day after school (he'd had to go back to teach school for a couple of days), helped us put together your room. We also began to move clothes and frantically put things into boxes. I hate moving. Lucky for me, my main job in the move was to care for you. Now THAT I could handle. As a side note, my biggest problem with moving is dealing with my own problem of procrastination and allergy to packing boxes. I'm really good at calling movers and estimating what they will need to move, but I'm not so good at packing. I guess the "nesting" instinct that is supposed to kick in the last weeks of pregnancy somehow didn't affect this flaw in my character, so nothing got done.

Instead of spending those first days at the new house unpacking boxes and decorating and resting, we instead had to finish moving what the movers left behind and finish cleaning the old house. Your Daddy had taken two weeks off of work to be with you and help move, too. "Aunt" Dede to the rescue on the cleaning part... She paid her maid to do a deep clean on the old place. All throughout this time, your Nana stayed with us and helped care for you, got up in the middle of the night with you, helped unpack, and basically saved us. All too soon, however, it was time for her to leave. GrandDad came and picked her up on October 5th and we were all by ourselves for real, for the very first time. It wasn't the first time in those first 10 days that I cried, but I did cry. I wanted my Mommy to stay longer and at the same time, I wanted her to go, I was afraid I wouldn't know what to do and that I would hurt you somehow. My fears were short-lived and a product of hormones, however. We got along just fine!

Baby, I have so much more to add to this... But I need to get to work... I'll add more later... I love you, my little Booble-dooble!

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