Mail call!

Evan is the only six year-old I know who can name every team
AND its status in the NFL Power Rankings.

According to my sister-in-law Dolly, Jones's six year-old cousin Evan is dead-set on being our boy's favorite family member.

In the hospital, when Jones was born, Evan's older brother Ellery wasn't so sure he wanted to hold such a little baby. Evan, on the other hand, couldn't get his hands on him fast enough. At Christmas, Evan sat by Jones's cradle through most of the family's celebration. I have no idea what they were talking about, but, knowing Evan, it probably had something to do with Drew Brees, and he most DEFINITELY mentioned the New Orleans Saints.

And today, when I dropped Jones off at his Nan & Pop's house, cousin Evan had played one of his trump cards in his game to be the favorite. He'd left this letter.

If it didn't convince JONES that he should have a sleepover at Evan's, it convinced ME!

Evan, thank you so much for such a sweet (and well-written, might I add!) letter! Jones can't wait for you to show him stuff. Think of what a blast we'll all have at the lake this summer! Thank you again for writing to Jones. I'm going to save this letter, so that he'll always know how much his cousin loves him! He loves you, too! Love, Kristin

philabo-didda-BUMBO

Jones is finally starting to grow into some of his things.

I say "finally," because, for awhile there, I was thinking that registering for "must-haves," like a swing and a Bumbo seat, had been a complete waste of my time and somebody else's money. Lately, though, he's proven that he just needed a little time to get used to them both.

Here is a (very dark; I'm sorry.) video of him in his swing. He doesn't spend a whole lot of time in it - maybe 10 or 15 minutes a day - but when he does, he's getting better and better at reaching out and playing with the toys on the little lap bar, and, as always, he offers no shortage of his dolphin-like squeals. Either that, or my ears are even keener than I thought, and I'm starting to pick up the silent pings of our neighbor's dogs.

 

"philabo-didda-Bumbo;"
Jones knows ... Jive. His daily cereal
is served about 5:30 p.m.

The Bumbo is the other thing that he's really getting the hang of. I still don't leave him alone in it, even when it's on the floor - YOU try holding up a head that proportionately big for more than two minutes at a time! - but for quick stints (with me standing right beside him, Mom), he's golden.

One of the things that we use it the most for is feeding time. Spoon-training is coming along ... well, it's coming along. Jones doesn't love it at all, or maybe he just hates the taste of that nasty cereal mixed up with that nasty formula, and who can blame him? But I'm finally beginning to remember some tricks from my babysitting days that I think may help him turn the corner.

By "finally," of course, I mean "I remembered them last nite, as Jones was screaming, and, because he's working two jobs, Jeremy wasn't yet home to help out by holding him." Amazing what comes back to you in the heat of the battle.  Regardless, I believe it was Ann Bible who did this with her grandson Brad. Since he, now 20, is a CHAMPION of eating with utensils, I figured it'd worked for her.  Why not try it myself?

Here's how: I'd cram in a bite, and before Jones had time to cry about the foreign object invading his oral cavity, I'd cram in his paci. Every dental professional I know probably just cringed to read it, but by the end of the FiestaWare Fruit Bowl full of cereal, Jones was laughing instead of screaming at the sight of the purple and blue plastic spoon.

That's what I call a win-win! At this rate, we'll have him eating burgers by lake season, though, to be honest, I'd settle for just being able to add in a second bowl of cereal every day.

Family Feud

I don't cook.  

Most of you know that about me. 

Most of you also know that I'm married to the sweetest man on the planet, so when he asked if I wanted to go out to lunch today, given these two factors, I wasn't at all surprised.

Nor should you be.

Nor should you be surprised to learn that I chose Sid's on Main for lunch. They have a Buffalo Chicken Salad there, and if I were given a choice, I would eat nothing BUT Buffalo Chicken Salads for the rest of my life and ALL OF ETERNITY. 

I was, however, surprised when Sid took Jones away and brought him back, having defaced his Kentucky t-shirt, adding a masking tape "D" before the "U" and, after the "K," an "E."

Needless to say, we won't be eating at Sid's again ... until lunchtime tomorrow, that is.

Good morning, Glory!

To know me is to know that I wake up with all the charm of an angry bear who's just had his nose hairs plucked. With a chainsaw. Jones, on the other hand, is as much of a lovebug after his nap as he is during it.

For some reason, he hates napping in his crib. At least, he did the last time I tried back just after he was born. Ever since, he's taken his naps in his Rock and Play Sleeper, which has come to be known as "the Napper." Why the crib is fine by nite but not by day, I'll never know, but so long as he sleeps, I'm not gonna be all that choosy about WHERE he sleeps.

It's the waking, though, that prompted this blog. When I hear that he's awake, I'll walk into his room and coyly stand by his changing table until he sees me. This revelation inevitably prompts him to smile so sweetly that, in that moment, he could pretty much talk me out of ever having to nap again or eat vegetables or take the trash out when he gets bigger.

What would YOU do?!

"I LOVE to Laugh!"

So, maybe getting him size 3-6 months for his coming home
outfit WASN'T such a great idea.

This I swear to you: I heard Jones laugh this morning.  Oh, he's done it a time or two before, but this morning, as I tickled him, while changing his diaper, he gave me several honest-to-goodness chuckles, which, of course, only makes me greedy for more.

Consider that your warning - between trying to coax more giggles out of him and making photo collages like the one above, I may get even less than usual accomplished today.

THIS JUST IN ...

Sources have confirmed that Jones's first language is Dolphin.

When do we eat?

Jones with Daddy & Dr. O'Donnell

I love Jones's doctor so much.

We saw him on Monday (2/18) for Jones's four month check-up, and he seems so excited about babies.  Thankfully, he can't say enough great things about Jones's growth and development (praise the Lord).

Our little man is now 14 pounds, 4 ounces (30th percentile) and 24 1/4 inches (26th percentile). While his body may be on the (slightly) smaller side, he makes up for it with his massive noggin. I can't remember the exact measurement, but I'll never forget hearing "77th percentile," nor will I ever quit counting my lucky stars that it WASN'T that big at birth!

What is baby cereal
without the Gerber baby?

Jones also had his second round of shots. As he did last time, he handled them really well, never running a fever or really even fussing. I know that if we ever have another baby, it will be a hellraiser, because Jones has been absolutely HEAVENLY.

A major takeaway from Monday's appointment was Dr. O'Donnell's directive to start giving Jones table food.  Off I went to Ingles in search of Rice Cereal for now and a couple of veggies for later. I was looking for the big box with the Gerber baby on it, but apparently, things have changed, since I was everybody's babysitter twenty years ago, because the closest I could find was this box of Beech Nut, which we opened up and tried on Tuesday nite (2/19).

How did he like it, you ask?  I think this picture speaks a thousand words.

I make the same face whenever someone feeds me fish.

Apparently, 2 tablespoons of cereal + 3 tablespoons of formula = 1 less than excited baby.

It worked!

Never one to give up easily, Jeremy recommended we give him his bottle to calm him down and then try to sneak in the spoon when he was relaxed. He also thought springing the Bumbo on him at the same time as the cereal may have been too much new all at once. I say all that to say, "Why didn't I think of that?!" We tried Jeremy's suggestions, and, though he still wasn't wild about it, Jones did eventually get all of the cereal in. I guess that makes our mission a minor success.

We won the battle. Now for the war ...

Game ON? Not quite.

inside Thompson-
Boling Arena

This weekend, Jones took Tennessee.

Unfortunately, the Wildcats did NOT.

We got blown out of the gym, and given the blustery weather outside, I mean that quite literally.  We battled snow on the drive to Knoxville and that same snow gave us a reprieve from suffering through the last 11 minutes of the game. We left early (safety first!), headed home to Canton, and ate dinner at Sid's before going home to avoid all the SportsCenter headlines on how Tennessee had absolutely pummeled the defending National Champions.

It wasn't pretty.

It wasn't even ugly.

It was appalling.

outside Thompson-Boling Arena

I am glad, though, to get to expose Jones to things that are so important to me and Jeremy. How many four month olds can say they've already been to three UK games (vs. Duke, Texas A&M, and Tennessee) and, after our March 2 trip to Chapel Hill, one Carolina game?  We are blessed indeed, not only to be able to go places but to have a baby boy who's willing to roll with his road warrior parents.

Keep on truckin'.

4 months old!

Jones turned four months old today.

I think he's hitting all of his marks for this age - he's sleeping through the nite (proof that God DOES answer prayer!), eating 30 ounces of milk / formula a day (five, six-ounce bottles), cooing like a door in dire need of WD-40, smiling up a storm, and sucking on his knuckles (or his thumbs, whichever he can cram into his mouth first). He's also started drooling in the last few weeks, which, I'm assuming, means we are on the threshold of teething. 

Somebody, pass the Orajel.

Biased I may be, but I honestly cannot get over what an easy baby he's been.  Most people hear this and tell me what a holy terror number two will be. Though it sometimes sounds like they're cursing me rather than just making conversation, I'm sure they're probably right. That possibility would be one of two things that would keep me from wanting another one. 

The other thing is dealing with the whole feeding situation. I'm not ashamed to say that I hated nursing the three times we tried it (after a month of seeing lactation specialists to teach him how to do it), and pumping ain't all that great, either. Why does he have to eat, anyway?! If he's like his mama, he's just gonna end up dieting all of his life. Why not start him out early?

But I digress ... as usual.

Happy birthday, Son!

Jones's First Valentine's Day

Who wouldn't love this picture of Jones with his Nan? Though Pop was too sick to visit on Valentine's Day, she came over, bearing gifts to boot!

Jones is so lucky to have such incredible grandparents ... and I am so lucky to have people who'll babysit while I go to the gym!

I can't wait until he gets bigger, so we can do really fun things to celebrate these holidays. This year, we got him a card (which I'm sure he'll ALWAYS treasure ... assuming I haven't already thrown it away) and some magnetic letters for the refrigerator. I figured we could use the letters as we start teaching him the alphabet.

Plus, Lord knows, I ALWAYS have pictures to place on the fridge.

Plus, it was the cheapest "toy" in the children's aisle at Ingles, which enabled me to feel like I was getting my child a Valentine without having to actually feel like I was getting my child a Valentine, if you know what I'm sayin'.

Of course you do.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Favorite

I've made no secret of the fact that, while I was pregnant, I prayed daily for three things:

1) that Jones would love God with all his heart, soul, and mind,
2) that Jones would be born with a headful of hair,
3) and that Jones would have Jeremy's ginormous eyes.

Though we don't yet know know what's in his heart, and his hair is definitely still in the "growing" stages, we can look at this shot of his big ole eyeballs and be reminded that God DOES answer prayer.

I love this picture more than everything on all my Pinterest boards combined.

That's a lot.

Short & Sweet

There's not much to this post, except a tremendous amount of love for this picture ...

... and these children.