NINE MONTHS

On December 19th, my sweet baby turned 9 months old. It's weird to think that if someone got pregnant on the day he was born, their baby would be due any moment now. Baby Jo has been out of womb as long as he was in there.

What a fun age. Jo has added so many tricks to his routine. He was can sit up by himself (as of a week before turning 7 months old). As of the first week of December, he can CRAWL! His crawl is adorable. Initially, he would move his arms forward one at a time and then hop his two knees together at the same time. Last week, he has gotten the hang of moving his knees. He is now so busy! He loves to crawl to wires and attempt to chew on them. I didn't realize how many friggin' wires are in my house until he started crawling. He also follows me around crawling. He likes to be where the action is. He has gotten better at crawling on tile, though he usually crawls up to the tile, pats it with his hand, and then proceeds. He is improving his ability to sit himself up after rolling or crawling on the floor. It is so fun to see his progress each day.

Despite his ability to crawl, he still prefers to be held. He is anything but delicate, however. He loves to dangle upside down, be thrown in the air, and literally tossed from parent to parent. He also loves it when I spin him in circles while holding him. I think he will be a thrill seeker when he is older!

Another adorable "trick" is high fiving. When you stick out your open palm, he will repeatedly slap it with his own. It is so precious. He also likes to mimic sounds. He makes a cute shriek (an oxymoron, I know) that he will do over and over if you repeat it back to him.

As of December 29th, he has started clapping! I've yet to catch it on camera.

He LOVES to pull and chew on hair. Jordan's father has thick, coarse hair that Baby Jo loves to grab and stuff in his mouth. When I wear a ponytail or braid, he likes to hold it in his hand and chew on the end like a licorice rope. If my hair is down, he just goes for grabbing fistfulls of it at a time.

He is a rather affectionate baby. He give big, open mouth, sloppy, wet kisses. He likes to kiss noses, cheeks, and chins. If I am sitting on the floor, he crawls up onto my lap. It's too sweet.

His favorite game is peek-a-boo. If he gets hurt or is angry and starts crying, peek-a-boo usually is a good antidote. If that fails, tossing him up in the air will do the trick. He likes to be tickled and sung to. He is extremely smiley and laughs so much. He makes friends anywhere we go. Anyone who gives him minimal attention ends up receiving a big, open-mouthed, gummy smile. Baby Jo is still toothless, which I don't mind.

He is still not sure about eating. He is a pretty stubborn eater, but he has a few favorites. He LOVES bananas, and likes Gerber's Chicken and Apples. I have a hard time getting him to eat, so he still nurses regularly.

He is down to two naps a day. I mourned his lost third nap, but he now goes to bed earlier so it evens out.

What can I say? We just drool over him. It's been so bitter sweet to watch him grow. My heart aches seeing my former new born catapulted into toddlerhood, but I am also so grateful to see him be healthy and thrive!

We love you Baby Jo (Aka J-Man, Jo Willy, Puppy)

A nice story

This week something sweet happened to me that I wanted to remember.

I shop at a store called Aldi. It's a grocery that offers discount prices with two catches: you have to bag your own groceries and you can only pay with cash or DEBIT card (not credit card). This is literally the only place where I use my debit card. We usually pay with our credit card for everything to rack up our "thank you" points.

Anyway, this week I was shopping at Aldi with Baby Jo strapped to me. He hates being in his carseat when we shop, and he isn't crazy about sitting in the cart's seat. So instead, he happily dangles in his Baby Bjorn carrier while I pick up all our food. This, of course, attracts lots of attention. People often make comments like, "Gee, does your back hurt?" or make googoo eyes at Jo. Sure enough, while I was in the check out isle, a nice lady behind me was smiling and cooing at Baby Jo. She then moved to the next check out isle due to a cashier opening another lane.

After I placed all my groceries on the conveyer and the cashier scanned everything, she gave me my total. "$44.15, please." I opened my wallet and....my debit card was not in there. I had no idea where it was, and since I never use it I didn't notice it was missing until right then. I frantically shuffled through my entire wallet and didn't see it anywhere. I checked to see if I had any cash on me. I had 30 bucks. Yikes.

"Um...So here's the thing," I explained, "I don't have my debit card. I DO have cash, but not enough. So I'm gonna have to take some things out of my cart." I felt like such a moron. It didn't help that there were about four people in line behind me, witnessing this whole thing. As I was bouncing Jo on my chest, I started listing things in my cart that I knew I didn't need to have that day. "Uh...I guess lose the cheese...and you can take out the yogurt.." I was a little flustered when all of a sudden, I heard someone say, "Ma'am! I can help you! I'll help!"

I turned around and realized that the voice was the nice lady that was previously behind me in my line. She was holding her debit card. I was caught off guard. She said, "I have four kids and I know how hard it is to shop with babies. It's easy to forget things." My initial reaction was to stop her. Surely it was unnecessary.  After all, I wasn't a poor woman who couldn't afford to feed her children. I was just a dork  with bad timing who lost her debit card. But I stopped myself from refusing her help. For one thing, she obviously WANTED to help. She wasn't even in my line anymore. She had no pressure to save me. She sought me out. Also, I thought to myself, "I am in a bind. And if someone wants to help me, why can't I let them?"  So I let her help.

Obviously, I was flushed and thanked her multiple times. "Thank you. This is so kind. I usually have my card with me. This is so nice of you. Thank you." I sounded like a broken record. The cashier, now smiling, said, "It's $44.15." The lady handed the cashier her card. I stopped her and said I had $30 in cash to cover most of the groceries, but I was so touched that she was willing to pay such a large amount. She covered the $14.15 left over and reminded me again that she understood how shopping with kids is tough. The man behind me in line was noticeably touched by the whole thing. "This is certainly what the Christmas Spirit is all about, " he said (at he said something very similar to that). I was a little teary eyed through the whole thing and thanked the woman again. After she left, the man behind came up to me wished me a Merry Christmas.

I am so thankful to the sweet lady who offered to help someone who was NOT in desperate need (after all, I could have just went home and got the food another day). Sometimes we think the people we need to help are the poor and needy- and we DO need to help them! But, we can look out and help the less needy too. Everyone can use kindness. And the event reminded me of the importance of accepting help from others. Help is a good thing to accept, especially when it is offered. I have a feeling that this sweet woman who helped me out felt good for the rest of the day and looks back on our moment together with happiness. I know I do.


And, of course, when I got to my car my debit card was just sitting there. Oops.

31

Today, my sweet hubster turned 31. He has said in passing that it's a weird age to turn, because now he is officially in his 30's. I know, I know; he was officially in his 30's the day he turned 30- BUT, 30 is really like 20-10...or something.

You know the expression, "Age is just a number?" I feel that that applies to Jordan. His age is fluid. Sure, biologically he is 31, but he has other ages, too.


Some nights, Jordan's age is 75. These are the nights where we sit down to watch a show together at 8:15 pm and he passes out on the couch before the show is even over.

Sometimes, Jordan is 15. This age pops up at any and ALL times that he can say, "That's what she said." Oh, brother.

Sometimes Jordan is 5, like at night when he wakes me up because he's had a nightmare....only instead of dreaming about monsters under the bed, he dreamed about our baby smothered in our bed covers.

Sometimes Jordan is a 60 year old retiree, like how he only wanted golf supplies for his birthday and Christmas.

On Sundays, Jordan is 90 years old because he can be found in the FAMILY HISTORY CENTER. That's his calling! Ha.

In the car, Jordan is a cute 16 year old (though he drives better than a 16 year old), because he always wants to hold his girlfriend's hand while driving.

At work, Jordan is a 25 year old....at least that's what his patients think.

Anytime Jordan shaves his facial hair, Jordan is a 22 year old. Such a baby face.

But usually, he is just an awesome 31 year one year old who provides for his family, adores his baby, and loves his wife. The world's been a little better for the past 31 years. We are lucky to have him.

Happy Birthday, Babe!