What light through yonder window breaks?

Here's the thing, Y'all. The light through the boys' windows at nap time is practically perfect for picture taking. 

So ... 

Also ... #stillobsessed

Close Encounters of the BEST Kind

Last nite, the boys went to bed as usual. About fifteen minutes later, I heard Freddie yelling for me. Assuming he was just wanting to ask something asinine, like "What are we doing tomorrow?" I ignored him for a few minutes, but when he persisted, I went in. It's a good thing I did. His nose was bleeding - not badly, but it was enough to warrant a trip to the kitchen. Off we went to clean him up.

Afterwards, Jeremy asked if Freddie wanted to sit in his lap and watch a little "Bonanza" before bedtime. OF COURSE, he did, and since it was still only about 8:30, I didn't argue about it. About fifteen minutes later, I put Freddie back in bed.

Well, because it was so much darker than it usually is when he goes to bed, he screamed bloody murder. I went back to his room, and he said, "Mama, I'm just scared," so I scooped him up and rocked him and reminded him that "When I am afraid, I will trust in Him" and that God is always with us even though we can't see Him.

We sang some more and prayed, and then I put Freddie back to bed.

Again.

I'd barely gotten down the hall when he yelled out, "Mama! Come look!" I walked back to his room. "I can see the moon," he said, super excited about the fact. "I'll bet God moved that there, so that you would have more light in your room. That's how much He loves you, Buddy." When I left his room, Freddie was reveling in his new view.

I decided I'd go ahead and take my bath (like I used to do with my own parents, Freddie likes it when I'm in his "quadrant" of the house at bedtime). After a few minutes, Freddie yelled at me, out of nowhere, "That was nice of Him to move the moon."

I smiled, knowing that my baby boy had encountered the God of the universe - the Maker of Heaven and Earth, the Star Breather, the Mover of the Moon, Who, nonetheless, knows the number of hairs on Freddie's head. It must've made a pretty big impact on Freckle, too, because he hadn't been up for ten minutes before he'd told both his Daddy and his brother about how God had moved the moon to meet Freddie's need.

I hope and pray he's always that in awe of the One Who loves him to the moon and back again.

Comfy and Cozy

When the boys came home from staying with my parents a few weeks ago, Freddie started saying he was "comfy and cozy" when I'd put him to bed. "Mayme always says that," he told me. When I saw this picture, I knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Comfy and cozy."

Bathrooms & Bedtimes

Earlier this week, Freddie said what is potentially the most "baby brother" statement in the history of the world. I was telling the boys how we're going to the beach in a few days. They were both so excited: "I can't wait to drive the race cars." "I can't wait to see the pirate ship." And then Freddie, as genuine and full of bliss as a boy ever was, said, "I can't wait to sleep in the bathroom!"

It was PRECIOUS.

But ...

Poor Baby Brother.

Whether we're at Pawleys Island or Brookie's house, that's where his (borrowed) Pack & Play always gets parked. Remember how the boys aren't capable of actually sleeping when they're put to bed in the same room? That's created a demand for Mama to get creative. Thus, the bathroom tradition. Won't he be surprised when he finds out, at this PARTICULAR resort, he'll have not only an actual bed to himself but a bedROOM to himself.

That sweet little sleeper has earned it.

Bears at Bedtime

Naked as a Bear

Freddie has developed this really bad habit of randomly taking off his diaper. He sometimes tells me it hurts him and points to the part of his hip where the closure sits, but I'm not sure if the diaper is really irritating him or if he just prefers to be free as a breeze, but I have my suspicions.

It's become even more of a problem lately. Yesterday, for instance, I put him in a jon jon. I did this specifically thinking that the hard-to-access crotch closures would keep him from baring his bottom. Well, where there's a will, there's a Freddie Bear. I walked in just after putting him down for his nap and saw him sitting up on his bed - the diaper beside him and a spray of wee wee sprinkled all around him. The hard-to-access crotch closures, however, were still snapped shut.

What.the.what?


Anyway, I got in from the theatre last nite and checked on the boys first thing. I was not surprised but slightly dismayed to find that, after Mom had tucked him in last nite, Freddie had done the full monty.

This left me in a predicament. To re-diaper him would mean to wake him up. To wake him up likely meant to wake Jones up. To wake BOTH boys up meant dealing with two super sleepy, cranky boys all day today. I thought very seriously about leaving him bare bottomed over nite and just cleaning up the resulting mess this morning.

Jeremy said to just try to diaper him, though. Knowing he was right, I tried, and in what was one of the more successful stealth missions of my motherhood to date, I was able to get him covered up without waking him up.

I put his diaper on backwards.

We'll see if THAT's enough to keep him under wraps.

Baby's Got a Brand New Bed!

Well ...

Wally and the Beav moved in together today.

I was going to wait for awhile before bunking them up, and while I'm not entirely sure I won't end up regretting this, I ended up giving into Jones's begging and doing it sooner than expected.

It was going to be even sooner - the room was set up yesterday - but Jones did some high-octaine complaining, which we've really been working on lately, so I told him he'd have to wait, which made today The Day.

I decided to try first at nap time. My thinking was that it'd give them a chance to get the sillies out before bedtime. It didn't work. There were sillies A'PLENTY, and in spite of REPEATED demands that they be quiet and quit jumping on their beds, they never calmed down, so I put Jones back in his old room.

Freddie stayed in his big boy bed in his room. After I left, though, he got up and came into the den, whimpering and saying he was "scare." I went in and laid down with him for a minute, surprised that HE would be scared, and after he got calmed down, he went right out, all by himself.

I think they learned their lesson from my splitting them up. At bedtime, they were quiet as mice, except for a few squeaks out of Freddie. Just to put the fear of God in them, I popped in when Freddie made a little noise. Jones looked angst-y and said, genuinely, "I sorry, Mama. I told Freddie, 'Shhh.' It's all my fault." I knew it wasn't AT ALL his fault, but I was proud of his humble spirit.

They actually went to sleep much more quickly tonite than I'd expected them, too - so here's hoping I haven't made a huge mistake.

I'm nervous about the whole thing - but I remember being nervous when I took Jones out of his crib, too, so I know it'll pass, and I know they'll be fine. In case I was inclined to forget that, God prepared me with yesterday's Bible reading.

I read in Psalm 121 and loved the reminder that "He Who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord watches over you ..." As I was making the boys' beds last nite and worrying about one of them falling out of it - or Freddie getting out of it - and thinking that tonite would probably be sleepless for me, the Holy Spirit whispered that "He Who watches over me ... and Jones and Freddie ... will neither slumber nor sleep," so why should I worry, if He's watching over them? What more can I do?!? As they get bigger and into more and more things that I will be a nervous wreck about, I need to tattoo that to my wrist:

"He Who watches over them will neither slumber nor sleep."

So the boys are snug as a bug in their brand new beds (Jeremy just checked on them and said, "Freddie's in there, snoring like Shemp.") The real moment of truth will be in the morning when we find out whether or not Freddie gets up before we go in to GET him up.

Fingers crossed that he passes the test! I'm counting on Jones to remind him that there even IS a test.
__________

First, here's a video the illustrates what a remarkably grateful heart Jones has - and I pray he always does! This was taken on Wednesday nite when Mom delivered the mattresses she bought for the boys' new beds.



"Thank you very much ... for getting my bed to sleep in Freddie's room. You're boo-tih-full!"

When I first started working on the room, he saw it and said, "Look what you've done, Mama! ... It's beautiful!" He has NO trouble showing his emotions, that one!

This second video is of the boys while they were supposed to be sleeping today.


I can only imagine they're mimicking me with their, "Boys, boys ..."

They were watching the dogs run by on the street outside.

FINALLY! Asleep!

In my defense, I told Jeremy if he'd come up with some
Tarheel memorabilia, I'd happily hang it in the boys' room.

Jones reminding Freddie to "Shhh,"
so he doesn't get sent back to his old room

Prelude to an Eventual Father's Day Post

We've had quite the hectic Father's Day weekend. I'll (probably) write more about that later, but for now, suffice it to say that we brought a VERY tired two year old home from church with us this morning.

As is our nap and bedtime custom, I sang his song - "JoJo," he calls it - and our Hymn of the Month before putting Jones in his crib. For the last couple of months, he'll then make the sign for "more" and say, "More sing?" when I lay him down. I always oblige with an "encore," saying "One more," which I sing and then leave.

Today, though, we'd gone through the encore routine when he tried a different tactic.  He laid there, looked up at me, held up his pointer finger and said, "One more?"

I ask you: could YOU say no to that face?

I like the way ...

... Jones rubs his head when he's going to sleep.  From what I hear, a lot of babies do this, but this is another thing I'm gonna miss when MY baby grows out of it.

Sometimes, his hand will park over top of his eyelids; it's as if he's holding them shut, so I won't dare to open them.

As if I would ...

Beautiful Dreamer

I wonder what he's dreaming about.

Sweet little sleeper is still spending nites in his napper. He hasn't yet kicked the cough; he has, however, projectile vomited about twice a day for the last five days.

"Beautiful."

Sick Day

I'll bet you're looking at this picture and wondering why Jones is in his napper at NITE.

And MAYBE, just MAYBE you're asking yourself why Jones's room has been rearranged, so that what is typically his napping apparatus has replaced the place where his bed usually is.

Well, here you have it:

Jones has his first cold.

It's not bad, and he's not fevered, but he's got a croupy wheeze that makes him sound like the penguin in "Toy Story 2," so he's taking Children's Mucinex and sleeping in his napper, because, though I'm not THAT kind of doctor, I've convinced myself that the incline will keep him from choking on his own drainage.

Makes sense to ME, anyway.

Oh, and I placed him right by his monitor, so if he needs me, I'll hear him via monitor before the sound can even reach my bedroom.

(UPDATE: He didn't need me. He slept clear through to 7 a.m. and was his same sweet, though still-croupy self, when I went him for my morning smiles.)

Nightmare Scenario

Though you can't tell it from this picture, Jones had a moment last nite when his sleep wasn't quite so peaceful. In fact, it was just before this shot was snapped.  Here's what happened:

Jones must've been worn out from all the fun of celebrating his five month birthday, because by 7 p.m., he was sucking his thumb and falling asleep.  Seeing this, I decided to get him ready for bed a bit early. He was out before his bedtime bottle was finished, and for the next hour and a half, things seemed pretty normal. He was sleeping, and Jeremy and I were watching TV in the den ... which, with Jeremy, consists of watching about sixteen shows at the same time. 

Just after 8:30, though, I heard a scream on the monitor so terrifying that, for a split second, I thought it must've been on the TV. I'd never heard Jones sound ANYTHING like that. As soon as it sunk in that it was him, though, I RAN back to his bedroom and picked him up. I tried to comfort him, but he just kept screaming, and nothing helped. He never woke up - just screamed for about two minutes. Realizing I wasn't helping by holding him, I laid him back down. My first thought was fever, but no. No fever. Then I thought, maybe, teething? But he wasn't sucking his fists, so I knew it probably wasn't that. Just in case, though, I used some Orajel on his gums for the first time. 

By the time I'd busted open the package, though, he had quieted down and seemed no worse for the wear. I applied the Orajel, anyway, and pried myself away from his room, though part of me wanted to sit in there and stare at him to see if he'd do it again.

He didn't. Thankfully. Instead, he slept through the rest of the nite and woke up, "jibber-jabbering," just as he always does.

An informal poll of my sister and some of my mom friends suggests that he's now had his first nightmare. Two friends said their children had it right before they popped out a tooth. Five months seems a little early to me for teeth to be popping through, but who knows. All we can do is wait and see ...

... and hope nothing ever haunts his dreams again.

"Jonesie Football"

It's not the best picture, I know, but it looks to me like Jones practices his Heisman pose in his sleep. It's either that, or he's pointing to which side of the outfield he's about to hit his home run.

Either way, our little man's an athlete!