Jackson: A Very Much Over-Due Update

I've been blatantly ignoring Jackson's milestones lately. 20 months? 21 months? 22 months?! Gasp. It's really happened. Thanks to my best friend's reminders of Jackson's quickly approaching birthday, I've decided to face the facts.  My baby is not-so baby.

We are so close to the second birthday milestone I can taste it. In fact, I'll be tasting a yummy lunch with a friend today to plan Jackson's joint birthday party. Sigh. Since I can't stop time, I guess I'll take advantage of this space and get back to the root of this blog.

Jackson. His milestones. His developments. His growth. His love.

When a tiny voice came over the phone pronouncing "Hi, Daddy. Hi, Mommy." as we talked to Grammie while out of town the other weekend, my heart lost a bit of itself. I had to stop my MIL's jabbering to ask if that was really Jackson on the phone. Certainly, that little boy's voice could not have been my baby! But alas, it was.

I sit here searching for updated photos of this shaggy-haired 22-month old, but the only time my real camera made an appearance this month was our trip to the farm.

My camera has been tucked away lately as I've held this ever-growing boy tightly in my arms. I cannot get enough of his laughter, his words, his scent. Everything has been so much sweeter lately. Perhaps it's because the toddler tantrums are running ramped in this house. This makes those hugs and kisses infinitely more meaningful. 

Our documenting of late can be found mainly on the iPhone. How thankful I've been for this bit of technology the past few weeks! We go from bedtime cuddles to running through Lowe's in a blink of an eye. That's a bit how all of life has felt lately, in fact. I've blinked and the baby that once lived within these walls is now a little boy.

In the name of a classic monthly update, we're going to break this down as though you were still a teeny little baby...

Weight: 27-28 pounds, you won't really let me weigh you
Height: Thankfully 1/4 inch shorter than the tables at the deli. a/k/a no idea but we've avoided any severe table-to-head injuries.
Diaper: 4 (also note: your big boy potty is now sitting nicely in your bathroom.)
Clothes: Nothing fits. 18 months are too small, 24 months swallow you. I'm sorry if someone some day points out that you often look homeless and mismatched. Blame the clothing industry, not your mama.
Shoes: size 7

Essentially everything you touch becomes a hat. Outside is still your favorite place to be and you're happy to go out the door with any willing stranger. Your vocabulary is expanding every single second of the day. Uncle Travis tells me in the next two months you should have acquired well over 130 words in your vocabulary. So far, you seem to be right on track.

Daycare. Well, I've been kind of mum on this issue since our big debacle last August. I guess this is the time to say, our new daycare really was that blessing in disguise everyone said it would be. Your teachers are amazing. You chant their names even on the weekends when we drive by the school. Ms. Mamie and Ms. Andie, those are your teachers.

Honestly, and a little shamefully, I don't know really any of this kid's names in your class. I've tried to remain low key at this daycare, and part of that has entailed leaving everything in your teacher's hands. With them doing such a great job, and you having serious issues whenever I leave you, I hand you off and run most days. Watching from the window, you calm down easily within a minute. While you've taken to your teachers, I haven't seen you take to the children as much. Your teachers, however, assure me that you have your "group of boys you like to play rough with." Oh yes, this sounds right on and just what I know you need.

You're pretty much an awesome student. Since the first week at this school we've seen an explosion in your development. Learning Baby Signs has been the greatest gift to all of us. You pick up on the signing so well and melt everyone's hearts each time you say "more, please" with those coordinating signs.

As with most of your life thus far, Millie and Baxter are your BFF. You chase those dogs around the house hollering "go-go Minnie, Bater, go-go" or "come, sit, please Minnie, Bater." Melts my heart how much you love those dogs. Two things we're still working on here: pronouncing the "x" in Baxter and the reciprocating love from your furry friends.

You're emotional, bursting with love, a natural comedian, a future engineer, choo-choo admirer, Elmo caller, crazy bouncing ball of a toddler. But each night, you grab our hands, walk down the hallway and ask, "up, please." And then we cuddle as our little family of three. This is my favorite time of all.

We've endured bouts of sleep regression, teething, tantrums. You know, the classic almost-two-year-old myths coming to life. In fact, just last night you woke screaming, thrashing and almost inconsolible. Is it teeth? Night terrors? I'm not sure. But, I know my love for you does not waiver.

I'm so proud to be your mama. The sweet boy you're becoming is such a beautiful reflection of your father and me. Thank you for showing us this love. Thank you for being our baby.

To the moon and back, 


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