Day 83

My little hockey player

Counting sheep

I can count on one hand the number of times I've slept in my own bed the past 3 months. 

It's mainly me, baby and the couch. 

It's just easier. Especially during the week when Brother Bear attends preschool and Daddy Bear commutes an hour to work each way. I can't see the point in waking either of them with a screaming baby while I'm home for now.

So the couch it is for Baby Bear and I. 

Last night was one of the few, blissful nights I got to sleep in my own bed. 

Until the baby started crying 2 minutes after going down into his crib (which currently resides in our room.)

Take two, baby back down. Blissful sleep, bed that is not couch. 

Until Brother Bear showed up schlepping his entire bedding & pillows into the middle of our bed. (Did I mention he's a violent sleeper? We've woken with fat lips sleeping with this kid.)

Take three. Baby down, brother bedded inbetween us, blissful sleep, blah blah blah.

Until my husband starts snoring. And the dog following suit shortly thereafter.

And I laughed. 

And looked around in the dark at my entire world.

All in one place.

My baby making whatever sounds you call that half kitten half sighing sound from his crib. My bigger baby curled up against my back with his feet crossed over my legs. My husband zonked out on his side. Hell, even the dog. 

How are all these boys mine? Seriously.

And I felt very blessed. And lucky. And like there was no other place I could ever imagine being. 

Except for the couch. 

Where I ended up 3 hours later. 

:)

Days 69-73

Days 54-58

Days 49-53

All aboard

Dear Jack,
It's almost been seven weeks since you arrived.
I'm tired.
Like really really tired.
It's funny how quickly you forget this part of babyhood.

Ah yes, the lack of sleep.
Smelling like baby vomit 99% of the time.
A five minute shower alone feeling like a vacation.
My house looks like a bomb went off in it on a daily basis.
Actually cooking a dinner is a hit-or-miss event these days and there is about two weeks worth of laundry piled up in the hampers.

There have been occasions where I've had more crying children than I have arms to hold.
I found a box of cereal just the other day I had put in the refrigerator.
I found the carton of milk in the cupboard.
Nice.

There have been moments my brain has felt like it was going to melt.
There have been moments I've cried in the shower thinking to myself there is no way I can do this.
And more moments than I can count that I've asked your brother to stop riding the dog.
For God sake, just please get off of the friggen dog.
She's old.

I've said on more than one occasion to my sister with a laugh over the phone as she hears the dog barking at the wind, you crying as I clean up the pee you just shot in your own eye and your brother screaming some hockey song at the top of his lungs while blowing into a whistle with no pants on... "This is my life." 

Because lets face it, if you can't beat the crazy train you mind as well just jump on the damn thing and go for the ride.

And it is my life, this crazy train. And I wouldn't change it.
Nobody else gets to claim this insanity.
Ride these ups and downs.
Take credit for you boys ...
Just your dad and I. We get that honor.
The good, the bad.
Its his. Its mine. Its ours.
And that's pretty stinkin' cool.

I'd jump on this damn thing every day of the week to ride it out with you three.

We've watched countless sunrises together over coffee and baby milk dates.
Every morning I hear the tippy-tapping of your brother's feet as he bounds for the stairs, and directly for you, asking how you are, rubbing his nose against your nose.
I've rounded countless corners catching your dad kissing the top of your head as he rocks you against his chest. You look so small in his arms.
Your favorite place to sleep in over our hearts.
You're happy as long as your're fed.
You belly laugh in your sleep.
You look for your brother when you hear his voice.
You smell like baby powder and sweet milk.
I've grown use to the tick-tock your baby swing makes as it lulls you asleep.

These days are messy.
They're noisy.
They're exhausting.
They're a bit on the raw side right now.
The frazzled side.
The want-to-eat-chocolate-all-day side.
They're completely different than the first time around.
And that's okay too.
They're ticking by already as we speak.
They're wonderful, and funny and beautiful.
And as crazy as they are, they feel oh so completely complete.

Thanks Jacksey for finding your way to us. For being such a wonderfully relaxed, chilled out baby. For making me a mom again. For making your dad a dad again. For making a brother out of S. He truly loves you. It's worth all the sleepless nights to see how much he truly loves and adores you.

I'm happy you decided  to jump on this ride with us.
Welcome aboard my littlest love.

I dressed myself mom

Day 48