JP

I should probably take a break from posting really controversial topics (posts which are still daily being read and I have no idea how that is happening), and post cute baby pictures instead. Dear John Paul, You are nine months old.  You have officially been out of the womb longer than you were in. I feel like I have loved you forever. You are a mama’s boy through and through.  You have started to cry when I walk away from you, and you make it clear when you want Mommy.  And only Mommy.  You also get a little jealous when Big Sister takes your Mommy Time.  I thought we would only have jealousy issues from her, but no! But you are the happiest baby.  You smile for everyone and show off your two bottom teeth.  You have quite the giggle and you love to be tickled. And Big Sister can make you laugh like no one else.  She is a great baby sitter for when I need to leave the room for a moment.  She will climb into you play yard with you and keep you entertained, and she will play songs on her Scout dog for you.  And you

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To myself on this Mother’s Day… Look at you.  You look like a hot mess.  Your hair is on top of your head, your 7am make up is long gone, except for the mascara that has started to raccoon around your lower lids, and just how old are those sweatpants?  They probably at some point in your life fit a whole lot better than they do today, but the elastic is all worn out so it doesn’t matter.  Plus, you’ve been sucking in your leftover baby belly all day, so it’s time to relax and let it all out.  The bra is most definitely off, and your t-shirt is a sorority t-shirt that is older than your relationship with your husband. You’re tired.  You’ve spent all weekend chasing after children while your husband works.  You even had to work in the office while you carted the kids over to Gigi’s house.  Then you did church, grocery, Target, meals, bathtimes, and bedtimes all while wrangling children – one who wants to do everything herself, and the other who wants to chew everything he can get his chubby hands on.  You’ve poured countless cups of milk and folded the blanket at least four times.  Every

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I was not a good mom this weekend. This was your Daddy’s long weekend, and often on these weekends, I feel completely overwhelmed and worn out.  I don’t get many breathing breaks. On Saturday after work, I knew we were leaving pretty quickly from GiGi’s house to go get a prize for your excellent behavior last week.  You filled up your behavior chart except for two spaces, so that warranted a trip to the Dollar Tree.  I parked my car and ran in the house, leaving the garage door open, but being sure to lock the house door.  I always do this if we aren’t staying at GiGi’s long. You weren’t quite ready to go, so I dressed you and took JP upstairs to change his diaper.  GiGi was getting dressed in her room.  You joined me to help with JPs diaper and then you decided to go back downstairs.  I finished getting JP ready and then went to see how much longer GiGi would be.  She said you had not brushed your teeth yet, so I went downstairs to find you. Your new favorite game is hide and seek, so when I called your name, I figured you were hiding.  I put your brother

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My sweet, sweet, sweet baby boy.  You are six months old. I can’t believe six months have gone by since you joined our family.  At some moments, it feels like you’ve been here only a few weeks or so.  Sometimes it feels like you’ve been with us forever. You’re perfect. No, seriously.  We thought your sister was an easy baby.  You are a dream.  So easy, so predictable, so perfect. You sleep all night long, most nights.  If you do wake up, it’s after a very long stretch.  And you sleep in your own bed.  Sometimes you sleep sideways, but hey, I’m not waking you up to turn you around. You eat like a champ.  Six ounces, every few hours.  We have started you on a little bit of baby food, and you are still getting the hang of the spoon.  But you were digging the bananas. You are ginormous.  There’s no way to tell you were so teeny when you were born because you’re huge.  At least 16/17 pounds at this point of pure chunk and rolls. It’s delicious. You’ve found your voice.  You exercise it often. Import March 2015 2846 The other night, we were eating dinner on

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