Saturday, February 13, 2016


It's been about three weeks since Johnny's delivery. Life is beautiful, full of shits and giggles. Shits from the baby... exhausted (semi-psychotic) giggles from Kirk and me.

I was once told that mothers have this natural born gift to forget the hard times of birth. They forget the pain of labor and the exhaustion of the sleepless nights. They forget that for the first few months they are a slave to hourly feedings, burpings, rockings, walkings and diaper changings of the new little bundle. They forget that simple things like showering and taking trips to the bathroom by yourself take strategic planning. They forget that... most of the time... they cry for no reason other than to strengthen their future rock star voices.

It's true. We do that. It's all coming back to me now. Greasy haired flashbacks of seven years ago go racing through my mind.

Then the little bundle FINALLY falls asleep on your chest and about twenty seconds later you realize it is because the built up gas he has been crying about has escaped his tiny body... and left its mark through his clothes and all over your shirt... for the second time that day. And its worth it. It's all worth it.

My favorite things:
How his little lips and his natural scowl look just like his daddy's baby pictures.
How Harper obsessively tells me he loves him and insists on brushing his hair.
How when he cries, Jace walks straight over to him and soothes him until he goes to sleep. No questions asked.
How his little legs kick with excitement in the water of his bath.

:: (swoon).... and instantly it's all worth it again ::

In honor of our sanity, Kirk has used his spare time in the last few weeks to build us a garage getaway; equipped with a bar, lounge and music stage. All was made from donated or recycled materials, by the way. I'm extremely impressed... and slightly turned on.
:: ( my sister in law gags) Love you Ash! ::



Harper brought home this Woody doll. This doll had Kirk and me giggling the entire day.
:: Yes, we are 12...and three quarters ::
"Daddy, I want to show Grandma my Woody!"
"My Woody is dancing!"
Well played, Pixar... Well played.

Anyway, the boys have been rocking that stage, a few friends have already graced the stage... and I... am looking forward to sitting at that bar.

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