Thoughts on Instagram, that I wanted to remember here.
Lucy Bear, my sweet, sweet girl. She’s someone who is constantly thinking and worried about others. Sports concern her, because she doesn’t like that there’s a loser. The other day, I got the stomach flu and she popped out of bed and anxiously told me, “Mom! You need to get in the bath right away!”
A perfect example is when we were in Disneyland a few months ago. She got tired and asked me to hold her. And as I held her newly gangly body in my arms, she rubbed my back, and arms, making me as comfortable and happy as she knew how.
She wraps their world in her arms, and tries her best to heal all it’s wounds. She fearlessly defends those she loves, but refuses to do battle with those that wound her. We love our gentle bug, whose eyes twinkle and soul sparkles. She lights up a room and is the sunshine in our lives. Thank you Lucy for being the one to make us Mom and Dad.
He’s terrified of snails, and if you ask him, it’s their “scawey eyes.”
He likes riding his bike, which means walking his bike with his helmet on, often pant-less.
He desperately wants a dog, following around our cousin’s labradoodle version, gently chanting, Molly, Molly, Molly (like a stalker.)
And he clarifies, “I want a dog! A big one! Sleep in my bed?”
All kids his age are called Baby, although he is steadfastly, “A big boy!”
He loves Daddy the best, with me and Lucy tied as second. But he gives me all the kisses I ask for, and he can’t function if Lucy isn’t right by his side, patiently and not so patiently being tormented by him.
He tucks screwdrivers into his diaper, refuses to take his superhero cape off and only answers to Bat Bat
His kisses are sticky, his knees are scraped, he leaves a path of destruction everywhere he goes…
Jack is my boy. The one I thought I’d never have. I love him so.