hit the road, jack.

Twenty ounces of milk. Twelve diapers. Six hours of running around. Three changes of clothes. Two diaper bags. One beautiful boy. And a really big cup of coffee.

Jack and I took our first road trip together yesterday--a quick jaunt to San Antonio to see Bibi and Grandaddy, who were both in town for work. We were anxious to get together even for a short time as I was sure that Jack had grown visibly in the three weeks since we had last seen my parents. Plus, he really does get cuter every day.

I am willing to out myself as a card-carrying member of over-packers anonymous. (There was the time I broke a toe dropping a 50 lb suitcase on my foot after dragging it six blocks and toting it down two flights of stairs. Of course, I only needed to lug it up two more flights of stairs, through a train terminal, on and off an Amtrak, onto a bus, and around two airports. With the foot. No sweat.) But I felt like I was reaching new heights as I packed us up for the afternoon. This is the thing, though: when you travel with a person who eats eight times a day, can't walk or talk, and may at any moment end up with bodily fluids all over his clothes...you just need lots of stuff.

We met up with Grandaddy at about 2 and headed to the hotel where Jack played and ate and slept and ate until Bibi arrived at 4!

Then we headed to Luciano's. Jack slept through the meal and only woke up at the end so that the mamarazzi and bibirazzi could get their fill of photos. There was a quick diaper change and then Jack and I were on the road again. We stayed later than we had planned, but it is hard to tear ourselves away from the grands.

Sweet boy made it to the Austin City Limits before he started to cry and then I couldn't wait to get home. We woke Daddy up when we got in. Then my big sleepy guy helped get my little sleepy guy into bed. Then a very sleepy mommy got to join in soon after.

Who knew that a trip to San Antonio could be such an adventure!

just ducky...

In the first ultrasound in which Jack looked remotely like a shadow of a fetus, he already had his hands to his mouth. My mom saw it and said he looked like a duck--a comment that my brother-in-law rightly pointed out only a mother could get away with. Sort of.

Despite my consternation that my mother thought my baby looked like a mallard, his nickname was "Ducky" even after we found out he was a boy, even after we picked out his name.

Though we don't call him Ducky much now
(something I'm surprised about really), we have lots of mementos of that time.

welcome home again.

A baby really does change everything. This morning we were up and ready to go to church by 8:30 when only a month ago we found ourselves struggling to be ready by 11. It was the weekend afterall. But as babies don't seem to understand the concept of weekends (every day is play day!) Jack got us up and going before we could say "This Week with George Stephanopolous."

He fell asleep on the five minute ride over and continued to snore softly (although at one point i shook his foot to stop him as it seemed really loud) through the entire hour. When we were gathering our things to leave, the little boy sitting behind us said, "he is so cute. i started looking at him when you came in and i just kept looking." So sweet!

We'll brave the bigger service once the peak of flu season is behind us, but in the meantime, I so much wanted Jack to go there--to the church that has been my home for fifteen years, to the people who have been our family when our family couldn't be present.

I started thinking that the first Sunday my family was at Oak Hill, I was sitting with another John Phillip. (Luckily Pawpee didn't sleep through the service! But he did sing off key.) That was the last weekend that my family spent with my grandfather. My grandfather was an extremely friendly person and so he met many people at Oak Hill that Sunday. When he died, they sent literally hundreds of cards. They made dozens of casseroles. They even came in and emptied our refrigerator of rotten food when we didn't return from the funeral as quickly as planned. They welcomed him--they welcomed every member of my family--into their hearts as if we were old friends.

And here I am, so many years later with this John Phillip, who was also welcomed even before he was known.

I hope he always calls the holy ground of this place home.

the first six weeks

working hard...

or hardly working?

baby's blues are navy blue.

"Seriously Daddy, I promise they're blue. Take another look."

little lamb, who made thee?

glamour-puss

When we found out we were having a boy, I did momentarily lament that there would be no ruffles or bows. I am from a girly family. Girls are what I know. And in my family, we go in big for the ruffles and bows.

So I thought that Jack would have a few plain onesies and some jeans. You know, like his father--the man who still wears t-shirts that he's had since he was fourteen because they haven't fallen off his back yet. Richie is a minimalist to say the least.

Meanwhile, Jack has been blessed with so many lovely gifts from friends and family that I have NO DOUBT that he has more 0-3 month clothes in his closet than all the clothes that Richard has ever bought.

Before he gets too big and too wiggly, I wanted to take a few pictures of Jack with some of the gifts he received from his European family. And, as it turns out, it can be pretty fun to dress a boy, even if there are no bows in sight.

one-der boy.

ten things i want to remember from your first month:

1. the way you excitedly put your hands to your face and pant when you are about to eat. sometimes, you snort, too.
and yet, it always makes me think of an polite little old man who is bowed over by the generosity of a great gift. it is this quality about you that also makes Daddy and me think that if you were a character in cartoon, you would be a happy little mouse.

2. you are fascinated by the lights and by the family photos in the living room. you could stare at your extended family for hours. we hope you'll get to meet your English relatives some day soon.

3. your dad was pleasantly surprised that your, "poo doesn't smell like real human poo yet." boys!

4. sometimes when you cry, you sound like a baby pteryodactyl.

5. you absolutely hated your first christmas present.

6. you also really hate baths.

we think that you inherited this tendency from Biz, who is twenty-five and still hesitates to shower sometimes because she doesn't "like the feeling of being clean." maybe this is the same since you never cry because your diaper is dirty, but you often cry when we change it.

7. your eyelashes are long and light and lovely.

8. you flex your toes when you are satisfied with the rate at which you are being fed.

9. even though you have less than a cupful of hair (as Bibi would say), you still wake up with bedhead.

10. you don't do social smiling yet, so you are a pensive little person. when you are sitting and thinking, you remind me of a baby version of Uncle Theo.

(and one to grow on...)

11. you do know me--even if you can't really see that well, even if you can't speak or smile yet--i know that you know me. i can comfort you even when you cry like your heart is breaking.
may it always be so, sweet boy.

face the nation.

like so many, we had high hopes for our horns.

it was an agonizing defeat.

but nothing that a good kiss and cuddle couldn't cure.
at least until next season.

until then, hook 'em horns.