the incredible journey

"who me, center of attention? i don't know what you're talking about!"

We made our first trip to Corpus Christi to Bibi and Grandaddy's house for Easter. While Jack is a good traveler and a veteran of I-35 S, having made many trips to San Antonio, this trip was twice as long and we had to leave on a schedule that had little to do with Jack's sleep habits and a lot to do with Daddy's work day.

Our strategy was simple: feed Jack loads and hope he sleeps. He is a fairly obliging boy and so he did all of the eating and *most* of the desired sleeping. Still, we didn't get in until almost 10. We found Nanny and Bibi waiting with baited breath and Grandaddy still working.

Jack, bolstered by a nice long nap in the car and by an adoring audience, turned on the charm and enjoyed hanging out with the grands for more than an hour. He smiled. He drooled. He did everything he could to keep us all at the table so that he wouldn't have to go to bed. He is his mother's son.

And for his final trick (and to wear him out) we put him on the table so that he could show Nanny and Bibi how he can inch himself forward by shear force of will, a few growls and grunts, and the heaviness of that sweet big head. He moved a whole foot before we knew it.

I'm looking forward to many years of cheering him on.

sunny days. time to play.

One of our greatest pleasures as a family is our Saturday "constitutional" around Lady Bird Lake. Richard and I did our fair share of walking the hike and bike trail before baby boy joined us, but we enjoy it even more now that he is with us. Despite the snow earlier in the week, we were out in force and so was the sunshine and the warm breeze.
Jack is sporting the last of his winter wardrobe before it gets too hot. I had to go through his closet the other day and remove (almost) all of the 0-3 month clothes. I was supposed to make a save pile and a toss pile, but I didn't find anything of significance to part with. Instead, I sat on the floor of his closet, picking up one sweater and then another, arranging them and holding them close again.

It reminded me of when I took high school physics. At the end of the course, I had all these notes I barely understood and no intention of going into any profession that required more than basic addition. Still, I held onto my notes. What if I needed to figure the trajectory of the sun while on the trail? Calculate the trajectory of a rogue bird? I finally threw away those notes five years later, when Richard came to visit our family home for the first time. They went into the trash in a dusty heap.

My hope is that someday we'll have another baby. Whether he (or she) will be able to wear some of Jack's newborn clothes--the green argyle sweater, the teddy bear vest, the monogrammed overalls--remains to be seen. Even if the stars align and we have another little boy who wears the same sizes in the same seasons, he won't need everything I've saved.

But it's just so hard to let go.