Saggy-bottomed dancing on the table

Easter outfit, early

Mike doesn't believe that having a new Easter outfit is an actual "thing" for a man, so the little outfit we got for Jude this weekend had an early debut. (Am I crazy? It's a thing, right?) I'm sorry, but I'm obsessed with this kid. I can't help it. I am a true, acknowledged ridiculous parent. Every day I just turn into a puddle of mom over his sweet little face and smile. Plus, he does things like hold my hand during meals, kiss my baby bump, dance like a fiend, hug and kiss his puppies, and kiss "ouchies" better. I can't stand it. Somebody stop me.

I scream, you scream.

I admit I got the cones for Jude and then proceeded to eat half of them after he fell asleep at night. I filled them with frozen yogurt, I might add, so it was like licking live active bacteria straight from the source. A lick of health, if you will.

So, I let my kid play in a muddy puddle in his pajamas out by the dumpster with huge pieces of asphalt. And?

Why are boys so gross?

I'm serious. Are girls gross, too? I don't know. Jude has been blowing my mind lately. I can't even remember all of the disgusting things he's done.

1. I found him in our bathroom licking the toilet handle. Yes, full tongue extended, licking furiously. What the what? He felt very sad when I made him give up his tasty new treat and washed his mouth out with soap.

2. We have a gross pothole in our driveway that fills with water, rocks, and mud. Jude often splashes in it with a stick, which I'm cool with, to a point. The other day while I was laying down (why did no one tell me that a sinus infection headache is like being buried alive with metal splint shoved behind your eyes, cheeks, teeth, jaw, neck, and head?), I heard Mike exclaiming, "JUDE! NO! GROSS! SPIT IT OUT!!!" Come to find out, Jude dipped a rock in the muddy, nasty water and put it in his mouth and sucked all the water off with relish. Who does that?

3. He loves to lick the bottom of his shoes. It doesn't matter if they are muddy or crusted with foul items, he licks and bites them. And yet, I still kiss that little face a hundred times a day. He makes it tough not to....



Luckily, he knows the words, "ewwwweeeeee," and "pee-yewww," and "stinky" and isn't afraid to chase us around with a stinky sock or foul diaper chanting these words over and over.

Helper

These pictures confirm what we've known all along.

Jude looks awesome in sunglasses and I look like I need to take them off. Pronto.

Fine. I was wrong.

So, it turns out I was wrong. Before I confess, you should know that I'm pregnant with our second. Belly evidence shown below. If you thought I had a holiday muffin-top gone horribly awry, you're not far off. But it turns out there is a babe in there, too.

So, Mike and I totally thought this one was a girl. We found out on Tuesday it is a BOY. When his little man-part appeared on the screen, I gasped. At first I thought she was deformed. Turns out boys have wee man-parts. So, all the times I told you confidently that I thought the baby was a girl, I was wrong.

I thought it was a girl because the night before I took the second pregnancy test that confirmed my state, I had a dream about a little girl. I've never really had prophetic dreams before, but I thought I might start. I'm glad my dreams aren't prophetic 99 out of 100. Like, for instance, last night I had a dream that I gave birth to a pair of beautifully, creamy-skinned little Indian twins that I conceived after being taken advantage of by a bird. I had blocked out all of the memories of said event except for the wee beady eyes. This all happened pre-Mike, so I took up living with a crazy old lady who lived with a 50 ton gorilla. I hid the babies in my bra while I went to college classes. Clever, right? But, I digress. The point is, I'm glad my dreams aren't real, 99.9% of the time (and especially last night).

The other reason I believed "he was a she" is because I think it's normal to want to replicate your own family pattern. I felt like we were teetering between Mike's family pattern and my own. We are both the second children with older brothers. I guess I thought we would have a "me" next, not a Mike. Mostly because Mike was a hell-raiser and I was docile and perfect (someone back me up here? anybody? nobody?.....dang). Obviously, Mike turned out and I like him lots, so, bring on the hell-raiser.

It's also difficult for me to imagine loving any little person as much as I love Jude. The thought of splitting my love between a boy and girl seemed easier, because they're so different. Sharing love between two boys seems like some kind of betrayal. I can't tell Jude he's my favorite boy in the whole world any more. I know my love will grow and I'll love them both, but it's still hard for my brain to comprehend.

Anyway, I guess I'll have to put away all that adorable flowered fabric I bought for another day. And the slightly-feminine quilt I just made will have to pass for gender-neutral. (hey, it's got yellows and blues and only a few flowers...)

Lest I'm not clear, I'm excited, nay, ecstatic for a boy and for Jude to have a little buddy. Brothers are the best. I was prepared to be wrong, as I have little to no intuition about these things. According to his picture from the ultrasound, he will look like Skeletor. But the dang cutest Skeletor I have ever seen! Jude, on the other hand, is still holding out hope that the baby is a puppy.

Mr. Sun

Today the weather actually surprised us and the sunshine felt warm.
Yes, balmy. So, off we went to see Buddy the dog.

Jude blew about twenty kisses to Buddy the dog when we left.
Those are eyes of love.

The boys found a muddy puddle and I felt shocked at how mannish they are.
I mean, when did they become little boys?
They found sticks and splashed the nasty water everywhere.
They tried to climb in. They threw rocks and debris into the puddles.
Jude kicked the puddle. It was gross.

If you look closely, you can see muddy water splashed all over Jude's face.
He was trying to flick it all over me, too.
I'm trying not to think about all the diseases and writhing microbes.
Trying and failing.

P.S. I know it seems like Jude is wearing the same outfit in every picture since he turned about 6 months. However, I promise, I both change his clothes and do laundry regularly. His shirts are different under his jacket almost every day. I swear.

Buddy the Dog

A tasty one of Mike

A few weeks ago, we fooled ourselves into thinking the weather had warmed enough for a walk to see Buddy the dog, who lives around the block from us. Lies! Lies, thou foul, fooling sunshine! Icy cold by the end of the walk. The boys learned to put their hands in their pockets and walk around like mature adults.

Tyler. He was probably growling at me.

Hiding from mom. And running with no eyes. A trick he learned from his dad.

"Doggie! Doggie!" "Pup! ppy!"

The mature man

The elf

Trying to steal a kiss only to be ridiculed and have my cheeks gleefully smacked.