:: I grabbed our designated outdoor blanket, threw some toys in a bag, and hoisted my sunscreen-covered baby onto my hip. Our destination: the back yard. For almost an hour we sat together; I read, he played. At one point I had to pinch myself. There I sat in the warmth of the summer sun, breathing in the sweet scent of lilacs in full bloom, feeding a sweet baby who kicks his chubby feet in enjoyment. Isn’t that what you always imagine being a mother to be like? I do. A moment of sweet perfection.
:: Having exhausted the options for play on the blanket, Jameson began exploring life beyond. His first discovery was a patch of weeds. At least, that’s what an adult would think, since they were sprouting up where grass was intended to grow. But Jameson was enthralled with the miniature — and I mean miniature — purple flowers. And suddenly I knew why God made those little flowers. “He made them for the babies, didn’t He?” Perfectly formed flowers not gone to waste, after all. They’re for the babies.
:: Besides breastmilk, Jameson’s beverages of choice are stolen sips of juice from his cousin’s sippy-cup (I’m not sure he actually knows how to get juice out, but he sure does love chewing on it!), and bathwater laced with shampoo. Yum yum! And I’m pretty sure his first solids will be twigs, leaves, grass, and dead bugs. What a great way to get your immune system off to a good start!
:: This morning was the first morning of Jameson’s mobile life that I slept as long as he did. Taking a shower was looking like an impossibility, and then I remembered the pac’n’play my mother in law bought for us. Perfect! I took a few minutes to set it up, threw in a few favorite toys, and then set Jameson inside. Oh my goodness — the huge smile on his face! He pressed his little nose up against the mesh walls and called to me. I knew exactly what he was saying. “Look, Mom! I’m inside! Isn’t this fun, fun, fun?” New things never cease to amuse Jameson. Would you believe it — our son is sanguine! (Will wonders never cease.)
:: There was another sweet moment of perfection today. I was at Mom’s, dressed to do some serious gardening, but Jameson was tired and fussy. I laid down with him on a blanket and nursed him to sleep. A pretty tree cast its lacy shadows on us, and the breeze cooled our sweaty brows. Birds sang us to sleep — and then Merrick walked by, hauling weeds for Mom: “Yeah, and Danica’s barely working…” I smirked. How many 26 year-old moms have little brothers to tell on them?
[To be continued when I get the chance. I’m trying, Nan!]