3 Months

                                                                              

My boy. You are 3 months and 2 days old right now. 3 whole months! I can  hardly believe it. I feel like you were born just yesterday, and yet I feel like I've known you my whole life.

You are one amazing kid. After your morning nap today, I went in to get you and you squealed with delight and threw your hands in the air and kicked your legs up and down, like I was the best thing you'd seen all your life. You do this often, but for some reason today, it took the breath from my lungs and I wondered how I ever went through life without you. How I lived 25 years not knowing what I was missing.

You laugh now. From your belly. Those gut laughs. You think I'm the funniest person in the world, and I totally agree with you. I think you're pretty funny, too. And I think we're going to have a lifetime of gut wrenching, tears flowing, laughs, you and me.

You love your hands. You shove them as far back into your mouth as you possibly can without making yourself puke. But you also hate your hands. Because you have very little control over them, so they seldom do what you want them to.

You are a morning person. You didn't get that from me. Every morning you wake up and hang out in your crib and talk to your owl friend at that top of your lungs (we're working on inside voices, but you don't seem to get that part). You jibber jabber for a good half hour before I finally go in there to get you. And you are ALL smiles when I do.

You like to be fussy when we're around people. I frantically have to try to figure out how to calm you down. I think you just like to see me flustered. Thanks, buddy.

You like you're dad. A lot. You guys are pretty much best buds. He is already trying to teach you how to walk and you happily move your feet as if you're really trying. We're grooming you to be an overachiever. Just trying to prepare you for Harvard. Can never start too early.

Speaking of Harvard, you love books. I read to you everyday and you laugh at the pictures as if you know what's going on. But, you don't. So, what are you laughing at?

Helping Daddy install a light

                                                                     

You're favorite song to dance to is "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston. You know how to move and you got that from me. You'll thank me later.

I started back at work last week and it makes me so sad everytime I have to leave you. Those 5 hours tick by painfully slow as I sit there and think about you every single second. We belong together and nothing else makes sense. You might have to fit me into your college dorm room someday.

But, really my Jacey pants. Everything in life has become more colorful since you arrived. I dreamed of you all my life and none of those dreams came close to how amazing the real you is. My whole heart is occupied with love for you and I will try my dardnest for the rest of my life to make you feel every ounce of it.

3 months down and a lifetime to go! It just keeps getting better and better.

                                                               

Only You

Ever since we brought little man home from the hospital, he has brought so much joy to our home. But, there are days where he throws some major fits and it's so sad because I know he is pain.

He is now on medicine for acid reflux, which has calmed him down, but there are still times where he will spit up and then be terrified to even look at his bottle, probably because of the pain he is afraid will come if he keeps drinking it. But, we have to sit there through his screaming, red face, shaking hands and body, because, well..the kid's gotta eat! He will get himself so worked up NOTHING calms him down. Not me swaying him, or kissing him, or stroking his hair...nothing. Well, except one thing.

When Jace was probably one month old, Owen put on this song, Only You, by David Crowder Band. And it would get Jace to would fall asleep. No other song sufficed. Just this. And now, in his uncontrollable fits, we put this song on, and you can almost see him instantly just calm. His whole body stops and he goes on to drink his bottle. His whole countenance changes. He is at peace.

I have to say, I'm highly appreciative that it's this song and not 'Baby Got Back' or something.

If you listen to the words, it's even more settling. I love that it's a worship song that calms my boy down. At the ripe old age of one month old, Jesus already has his attention. Jesus is already the one that calms him and gives him peace. Jace might not know it yet, but Jesus knows Jace.

We can't even let the song finish or else Jace starts to panic. We have to start the song over before it ends, because he needs to keep hearing it to keep him calm. How true it is, that once we stop hearing His voice, we start to panic.

I see myself years from now, on Jace's first day of school, at his first basketball game, the first time he drives a car, his first date, when he goes to college, moves out, when he leaves me for his bride. I see myself listening to this song and remembering, no matter what I did or how much I want to be there for him to protect him from the world, it was never me who could give him ultimate peace and security, it has always been and always will be only you, Lord.

And for that, I am truly thankful.

Only You Lyrics

Take my heart, I Lay it down
At the feet of you whose crowned
Take my life, I’m letting go
I lift it up to You who’s throned

And I will worship You, Lord
Only You, Lord
And I will bow down before You
Only You Lord

Take my fret, take my fear
All I have, I’m leaving here
Be all my hopes, be all my dreams
Be all my delights, be my everything

And It’s just you and me here now
Only you and me here now

You should see the view
When it’s only You

Zzzz...

I might fall asleep while writing this. And if I do. Well, I'll be super happy about it.

Sleep. My old best friend. How I love thee and miss thee.

I know everyone says that one of the hardest things about having a baby is sleep deprivation. I was doing pretty well at first. Really. I mean the every 3 hour schedule was not my fave, but it wasn't as horrid as everyone made it sound.

But, here I am, 2 months and some change without one night. Not one night of a full 8 hour, uninterrupted, where it's long enough to finish my dream, sleep.

2 nights ago he gave us his longest stretch...7 WHOLE HOURS. It was amazing. So of course, last night I went into it thinking I'd get the same treatment. NOPE! He was up. Every. Hour. It's almost worse that he slept 7 hours the night before because I was expecting it. The letdown was crushing.

I'm. Tired. And that stuff about sleeping when the baby sleeps is impossible. And not only do I get up every 3 hours, but it takes me about a half hour to feed him and another hour for me to get myself back to sleep. It's the opposite of fun. And I'm the opposite of sane, showered, put together.

I dream of the days when he's 16 years old and wants to sleep in until noon.

Til then, my dear old friend, sleep, I'll dream of you fondly. While I'm wide awake. With bags under my eyes.

Be Present

I only have a couple more weeks of maternity leave left. The thought makes me sick to my stomach. All my life I have never figured out how to live in the present. It's always been anxiety about the future.

But now, more than ever, I so desperately want to breathe in the deep scent of my present. I want these last few weeks, where my only job is to love Jace, I want them to count.

I don't want to care if he pukes on me. Or if he poops 2 seconds after I just changed his diaper. I don't want to get irritated when he wakes up after a half hour nap. Or be annoyed that I haven't had time to shower all day.

I want him to have my full, undivided, full of love and lacking in incovenience, attention. He deserves all that I've got for the next couple weeks.

I want to breathe in and take note of the way he smells after a bath, so that that smell is permanently imbedded into the core of my being.  I want to hang out by his crib and watch him carry on a conversation with his owl friend. I want to sing to him at the top of my lungs while he watches me in awe, and coos back, my biggest fan. I want to sway his arms back and forth while singing 'the wipers on the bus go swish swish swish', because it makes him laugh 8 out of 10 times. I want to rock him in his chair til he falls asleep, even if it takes a couple hours. I want to smile until my cheeks hurt, because he likes to smile back. I want to dance with him with no other care in the world besides feeling his head resting on my chest.

My little 2 month old buddy is growing up way too fast. And before I have the pressures of life waiting for me to slide my time card through, I want this more than anything.

To taste it.

To savor it.

'Tis so sweet.

Turn of Events

While the rest of Washington has been trapped at home due to Snowmaggedon, I have been held hostage due to a nasty sore throat and a fever that got up to 104. There has been no sledding, snowman building, or anything fun for me. Just. pain.

I'm a baby when I'm sick. I want to watch movies whenever I want. Sleep whenever I want. Have my mom cook me whatever I want. Take a hot shower for however long I want.

However, there has been an interesting turn of events. Jace. He is in fierce competition with me in terms of wanting whatever HE wants. He doesn't seem to care that I need a nap. Or I haven't eaten in almost 24 hours. Or that I desperately need a long, hot shower. Or that I'm just a couple degrees away from death. Or that his nonstop screaming for no apparent reason isn't helping the throbbing pulse in my brain. And of course last week he took naps like it was his job, but this week naps are so last week.

Jace. Ol' buddy ol' pal. I'm glad you're cute. Or else I would've put you in the garage this week.

Remember my sacrifices when someday, your wife wants to put me in a nursing home.

Thanks.

The Boy Who Stole My Scissors

Dan was the first friend I made in high school. I came from a Catholic school so when I got to high school, everyone was already established in their own little groups and I wasn't sure that I fit in anywhere. But Dan didn't care about social groups, he weaved his way through any group, and he was accepted everywhere, and he accepted everyone.

Dan and I had health class together. And in his not subtle way he came over to me during a first day of class project and stole my scissors right out of my hands, and took them back to his desk. Of course, this forced me to have to get up and go get them back, which allowed him to start conversation. Smart one, that guy ;) From then on we were buddies. 

We soon went from school friends, to outside of school friends since most of our mutual friends were dating. We then became best friends. He was my very best bud. We hung out a lot, talked on the phone a lot, talked about music, and life, and religion and politics. He made me think a lot. He challenged me. A lot. And boy did we laugh. A LOT.  I knew he had feelings for me, but like a perfect gentleman, he never pushed it. He waited until I figured out on my own that I had the same feelings.

I was about to be a Junior in high school when Dan became the first guy I ever called my "boyfriend". We started dating on August 12th, so every month, on the 12th I got a present at school. Whether it be flowers, or jewelery or writing me poems to honor our 1 month anniversary, our 2 month anniversary, etc. :)

One week I was out sick and he brought by my homework. But he also brought me a sick goodie-bag. It contained girly magazines, chick flicks, a hat to keep me warm, chocolate, and other fun stuff to get me through that nasty flu.

Right before Christmas, we were at the mall and I had no idea he was mentally taking note of everything I liked. When it came time to open my gifts, I thought maybe he would have bought me one of those gifts. But no. Not Dan. He bought me ALL of those gifts. The sweater, the boots, the coat, the skirt, the shirt, and then some of his own picks.

On Easter I told him my family always did Easter egg hunts when we were little, but we never did Easter baskets. So that Easter, Dan made me my very first Easter basket. Complete with the fake grass, peeps, a bunny stuffed animal and lots of chocolate eggs.

At tolo, when we went to Blu Water Bistro for dinner, all the girls were freezing and he politely asked the waitress if they had a space heater to keep us warm:)

One weekend, he and some other guys went to the gorge for a concert, so they all missed school that Friday. He had flowers delivered to me at school because he knew we'd be apart for the weekend.

I remember how much he loved his mom. I remember she would call him and at the end of the conversation he would say 'you.' I finally asked him why he said 'you' and would hang up. He said that she said 'Who do you love?' and his response was 'you.' Or she would say "Who loves you?' and he would say 'you.' I remember thinking it was the sweetest, cutest thing in the world. And so did he.

These are just a few of the many memories Dan left me with.

We ended up going our separate ways as most high school relationships do.

A while back Dan had commented on a post of mine telling me I had always been an amazing writer and that he found my blog through googling my name. He left his email address saying he'd love to catch up.

I never emailed him. I don't know why. Life was pretty crazy around that time ( I had just found out I was pregnant) and I just never got around to writing him, nor knew what to say. I wish I could have told him about my life. How I did end up graduating from UW. How I finally got to experience Europe. About the wonderful man that I ended up marrying. The beautiful baby I had. How my family had doubled in size since he knew us all. And how my faith in God was finally real. It would have been nice to have gone on with life knowing that he was doing well and letting him know I was well. I think he would have been genuinely happy for me. I regret that it didn't happen that way. I really do.

Little did I know, the next time I would see Dan would be January 14th, 2012, laying in  his casket.

It was so wonderful hearing the stories from people at his funeral, it sounds like he was doing really well, and he was that same guy that I knew back in high school. The one who cared about everyone else more than himself. Full of passion and wit and generosity and kindness.

He left a big mark on my life and as proven at his funeral, many other lives as well. I am so sad that his life was cut way too short. But I will always remember him with that smile on his face, my first day of high school.

The boy who stole my scissors.

Jace Michael Barton

I've come to a point where I have debated whether or not to shut this blog down. I'm stumped. The English language has failed to equip me with the proper vocabulary to convey every thought, feeling, memory, experience that the past 3 weeks have meant to me. It can all be wrapped up in one tiny little word. I never knew that word would hold my entire heart in it. That the existence of my life was wrapped up in it. That my greatest joys and happy tears were woven in it. That nothing else mattered as much as it. That everything good made sense because of it.
Jace.

He's the good and perfect in my eyes. God, for some reason that I have yet to understand, gifted me with something I don't deserve, and I am overwhelmed by this kind of grace. Speechless. I've never understood His love as much as I do now. A love for your child great enough to give up your life. A love for your child, even when they have done nothing to deserve it. And yet His love for me is greater than this-- than my love for Jace. And this floors me. It leaves me in puddles of thankful tears. It leaves me in silent awe. It leaves me with a sense of ferocious love.

I look at Jace's face, his perfect little nose and big eyes. His long fingers and dimpled chin. And it leaves me breathless. He is such a good baby, with his daddy's calm personality and crazy toes. And his mama's 'furrowed brow'. I'm living a life of magical proportions.

Even those 3 am wake up calls, though often frustrating, have moments where we stare into each other's eyes and I know that some day when he is off at college, I'll miss the days when he woke me up in the middle of the night, needing his mama's touch. It's magical. All of it.

He makes me want to be a better person. He leaves me feeling so inadequate and helpless and yet so strong and equipped.

He makes me love Owen more. I see a father's love in Owen, that I never saw until Thanksgiving Day, November 24th, 2011 at 11:32 pm. And I don't think I'll ever stop seeing it. Or ever stop loving it. I don't think it'll ever get old or I'll ever get used to it. I think it will forever stop me in my tracks and set my heart rate at it's own new beat.

Life feels so fresh. So full. So new.

I am forever in mad love,

with my,

Jace Michael Barton.