9 months

Monday was Jones' 9 month birthday. I am going to refrain from talking about how quickly this year is going and how I wish I could slow it down like I do every month. But, seriously, it's insane.


9 things about 9 month old Jones:


* He has a big personality that is coming out more and more. He is chill and hilarious all at the same time. A real Mr. Cool.
* He still has 8 teeth, although I have a suspicion more are on their way.
* I have started giving him solid foods. He thinks he is big. He is very fond of Gerber puffs.
* I still nurse 4 times a day. I am dreading the weaning process, which I probably need to start considering.
* Loves bananas. He kicks his legs and starts dancing when he sees them. He is getting pretty good at picking up slimy banana slices.
* Speaking of dancing, the kid's got rhythm. He dances to any and all music. Hilarious. We started Kindermusic Monday night with sweet friends. Naturally he just stared at the other kids, but give him an egg shaker and he was ready to rock.
*He is still wearing the same size clothes he wore when he was 5 and 6 months old. Make no mistake about it - he is a large 9 month old. He was just a massive 6 month old. I think it has to do with...
* He does not sit still. He is on the move at all times. I am tired. He can cruise along the couch and walk behind walking toys.
* When he laughs, he sucks in instead of laughing out. It is hysterical.


I say this every month, but he is so much fun right now. I think I am going to love 9 months! His personality is really developing and he has started showing out in front of people instead of the usually study and stare.


Love this boy with all my heart and am treasuring every day with him. So thankful for this time. Although it is not always easy, staying home with him was one of the best decisions Trey and I have made.

Now on to the monthly pictures...


Seriously. Why do I try the sign? I should have started something else at month one. This is ridiculous. He eats it.


At any rate, here is Jones on his 9 month birthday. Pitiful attempt of his monthly pictures, I know. These are seriously the best two.

Don't judge. You try to tame a monkey.

Here he is sliding earlier that day. Much better picture than when I was trying. Naturally.

His 9 month well baby check-up is next week. I can't wait to get this chunk on the scale. We also have his 9 month pictures coming up next week in Mobile with Tricia. Cannot wait.

here horsey, horsey

My parent's neighbors have horses that will come up to the fence and let you pet them, talk to them and feed them apples. This totally fascinates Henry, so we often go to see the horses while at my parents. Nana used to bring apples from her house so Henry would have plenty to feed the horses. She and Henry loved to go together.

Over Christmas Henry wanted Jones to go see the horses with him. Jones could have stayed forever. He was mesmerized.

Sweet memories.

This picture cracks me up. Henry decided it was time to go and took off without us back to my parents house. Also note the vest. That is his "horse vest". He keeps it at my parent's house (even though he lives 5 minutes away!) and only wears it to go see the horses. He also wears those HUGE big gloves when he is at my parent's house. I love that kid.

Jones' First Christmas

Trey played the guitar at the Christmas Eve service at our church. Afterwards we went to his parents house for soup, then on to our house to wait for Santa!

Christmas morning the three of us woke up to see what Santa brought then we headed out for brunch and more presents. After we stuffed our faces and opened lots of fun things, we headed to Starkville...where it was snowing! Jones' first Christmas was a white one! It was pretty much melted by the time we got there, but it continued to come down the entire day and night, it just wouldn't stick. We opened presents from my mom's family Christmas night since we weren't able to have Christmas this year. Then we woke up the day after Christmas to have Christmas with my mom, dad, Kristen, Laura, Rob and Henry.

The three of us stayed in Starkville until after Nana's funeral on the 4th. I was so happy to be able to go to the hospital every chance I got and be there with the family when she passed. What a blessing to be there on not 4 hours away. You need family during those times.

Whew! Busy (and emotional) Christmas.

(We still have my Nana's Christmas left with my aunt, uncle and cousin. That will be next weekend in Starkville.)

Christmas Eve

(This is the only picture I have from Christmas Eve, and it is from my phone. Shameful.)

Santa Came! (bright and early...)

(Uncle Adam giving Jones hair tips.)

Christmas in Starkville with my family

Sweet cousins.
We can never get them both to pose at the same time!Loving from the aunts!

Look very, very closely...there's snow. Promise.
Jones made all his grandparents a hand print ornamentSeriously. This was the best family picture. We gotta do better next year.

Christmas 2010 was definitely one I will never forget!

a celebrated life

Nana
Dec. 13, 1926 - Jan. 1, 2011

I haven't posted in a while because, well, I haven't felt like it. But I made a commitment that I would blog about Jones' first year and then turn it into a book on his first birthday. So I need to blog about his first Christmas, but I can't seem to make myself do that until I blog about this.

So here it goes.

My sweet Nana died New Years Day. It was the strangest Christmas holiday I have ever experienced. On one hand, it was Jones' first and I was so happy. On the other hand, we spent our days in the ICU knowing it was going to be Nana's last.

Through all of this I keep coming back to two things: 1) She loved the Lord and lived her life serving him. So I know she is with him now. and 2) she never wanted anyone to view her as old, never wanted anyone to see her sick and never wanted anyone to have to take care of her - and they never did. She was healthy and happy up until the day of the surgery. And while the surgery obviously didn't turn out like we had planned or wanted, she lived her life the way she wanted even until the end, so I have to be happy. She lived a long and wonderful life, so I must be thankful.

It goes without saying that I miss her terribly. We talked every afternoon at 4:30. I get sad when I see that on the clock now. It will take time, I know, but right now I am just thankful that even through my sadness, I have a peace.

People lined up around the church to give their condolences to us during the visitation. FBC Starkville was completely full during the funeral. Trey and I discussed how there were more people there than there were at our wedding. People came as far as Ohio and Chicago to pay their respects. What a beautiful testimony to a beautiful life. She was so loved by so many.

Laura and Kristen wanted the grandchildren (the three of us plus our cousin, Jake) to stand up and say something at her funeral. I didn't know how I could do it. They asked me to write something. I refused at first. It took me two nights to write a couple of paragraphs. I was totally without words.

In the end, I wrote something without reading over it even once and handed it to my sisters to do what they wanted with it. Laura, bless her brave soul, read it while Jake, Kristen and I stood behind her.

Here is what we said about our Nana:

How do you put into words all that Nana was? There are no words big enough to fit her.
Nana is more than words – Nana is an attitude. A state of mind. A lifestyle.

While it is impossible to summarize Nana’s life in words, there are a few words that come to mind when we reflect on her greatest loves in this life: Faith, Family, Friends, Fellowship, and, of course, Fun and Fashion.

To know Nana is to know life. She knew what it meant to live life, and to live it large. No detail in our lives was too small to her. She savored every seemingly minuscule aspect of our lives. She celebrated every moment with us and for us – she was our biggest fan. She celebrated life.

So today we celebrate, as Nana would want. We celebrate the life of an amazing woman - our Nana -whose beauty, dedication, spirit, and smile will stay with us forever. We celebrate Nana today by her granddaughters wearing her pins and jewels, just as she would have wanted. We celebrate by remembering her spunk, her love, her passion for life by living our lives with her attitude and with peace in our hearts knowing that a life lived for the Lord will always have a happy ending.

Nana and her grands (Gotta love the 80's)

I know Nana was so proud of Laura's strength and grace. I was a sobbing fool up there. And I know Nana loved the fact that all three of her grand-girls were wearing her (clip-on) earrings and larger-than-life broaches. Not to mention we went shopping for her funeral - it's what she would have wanted. Fun dresses, no black. I wore purple.

Nana and her girls (me, very pregnant)

One of the biggest blessings was hearing from one of Kristen's childhood friends the day Nana died. When Jessi heard of Nana's passing, she immediately wrote this for her personal blog. When we read it, my dad asked her to read it at the funeral. It is, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard and I will treasure these words forever:

Forever Young

Living in Brooklyn, most of the people I interact with are somewhere between their twenties and fifties. But being back home for the holidays, conversations and activities tend to revolve around what babies have been born, who’s passing on and who’s past. Mantles overflowing with family photo Christmas cards in all the homes I visit are a testament to the births. Obituaries filling nearly a page in the 8-page daily newspaper I read while eating my breakfast of grits are a testament to the deaths. These consistent reminders throw a wrench in the gears of my normal world view, but maybe that’s a good thing this time of year: a time for reflection and resolution.

So here goes the reflection. Growing up, I had a best friend named Kristen. She was probably the best best friend you could ask for: she was always upbeat, up for a good time, and the most popular girl in our class. Who knows why such a well-liked child picked such an awkward goof of a girl as her confidant, but in retrospect, I have to admit we made a great team. She had the guts and I had gusto, and when we were together, there was little we thought we couldn't accomplish. Over the course of junior high and high school, we passed most of our evenings together, working on class projects, campaign posters and cheerleader dance choreography. As a result, I spent a great deal of time with her family, a family that was very different from mine: there were lots of rules and chores, but aside from the typical teenage rebellion, there was harmony. These parents clearly loved and respected each other and their three daughters. And while these daughters may have suffered sisterly spats, at the end of the day, they were each other’s greatest allies.

Presiding over it all were Nana and Dada Tomlinson, Kristen’s grandparents. They had raised two boys, Kristen’s father and uncle, who in turn raised their own families in the same small town. Every single one of them got together at least weekly, and while I suppose having everyone live within five miles of each other kept them close, their devotion to one another clearly went beyond proximity. To the Tomlinsons, family was clearly the priority.

Jennie (Nana) Tomlinson was a regular fixture at our school plays, graduations, sporting events, or anywhere else she could possibly drink in her grandchildren and their friends. I was lucky to have been among those friends because I got to know this incredible woman. I never heard her utter a harsh word. In fact, in speaking with her, it seemed to be all about YOU. She remembered every detail you ever shared with her about your life, and she treated them like treasures she’d reveal the next time you were with her. What seemed trivial to anyone else became “remember such and such?” or “well how’s this and that?” to Nana. She showed genuine interest in other people and demonstrated true thoughtfulness, always managing to make others feel important and appreciated. I was also captivated by Nana because she showed a special flare for, well, flair. She loved having her hair done and putting on an outfit. She always had a special purse or some gigantic sparkly broach, and well before it was mainstream, she was into metallics and beading and fringe. Given my obsession for such things now, she probably had a bigger impact on me than I’ve ever thought about before. Nana was always at ease with herself regardless of the situation, and perhaps because of that, she was timeless. Many of those who considered themselves her friends were half or even a third of her age. Her hair may have been a snowy puff and her face may have been creased, but she was youthful and beautiful because her creases always situated themselves in a smile that started with her eyes. I think about Nana often now that I seem to have turned a corner where each morning I find a line on my face where there wasn’t one the morning before. What is it to be a woman and to age? It means you’d better find some role models if you hope to maintain grace and sanity. Nana is one such role model. Her beauty transcends age.

After rooming together our Freshman year of college, Kristen and I ended up living very different lives. Mine is that of an artist in Brooklyn and hers is that of a doctor who after seemingly unending years of school and residency has finally returned to our home to begin a practice. It’s fitting she’ll be delivering the next generation of children who’ll inherit our stomping ground. We only see each other occasionally, but when we do, we easily fall back into the mode of old friends. I’m so proud of her, and I’m proud to say the Tomilinsons were a crucial part of my formative years. I learned powerful lessons observing their family dynamic. Being friends with Nana taught me much about the true meanings of beauty and character. Nana Tomlinson passed away on New Year’s Day 2011 at the age of 84. To the end, she was kind, happy, independent, and funny. She was sustained by the love of her family, and in turn she brought many others joy. The example Nana set is a part of me, and thusly will go on to touch everyone I love.

And now on to my two-part resolution. One: Live like Nana: celebrate family, celebrate others and celebrate whimsy. Two: Don’t wait until people have left this world to express how much they’ve meant.

(nana in middle)

PLEASE check out her amazing blog here. Love her.

Thinking about Nana, I have been reading some of my old blog posts I have written about her (and there were many). I found this one that I wrote a few years ago on her birthday. I want to be like her - not just be alive, but to truly live.

And, finally, a video of Nana. This is how I want to remember Nana - dancing to Usher with my 5 day old son.

Whew. This post wore me out. Two serious posts in a row. A new record.
Christmas pictures coming soon...promise!

So I won't forget

There are things that have been going on in my head for a while now and I feel like it may completely get out if I blog about it. Maybe it's because I have no clue who reads it and I find comfort in that. Or maybe I treat this thing like a shrink. Or maybe I am just crazy.

At any rate, here it goes:

Have I mentioned we are living in a rental home right now? Since we moved a year ago, we have been living in a cute rental. Cute, small, rental. We still own our home in Hattiesburg (anyone interested?) and renting will allow us to really get to know our new city, figure out where we want to be long-term, and save money while we are doing it, all while avoiding two mortgages.

And I am so grateful for our home. Really, I am.

But every now and then I get selfish. I worry about worldly things that do not matter. I feel like I don't measure up. And I become dissatisfied.

We have moved 6 times in our 4 1/2 years of marriage (no lie) and I am ready to feel settled in a home. I am ready to buy new furniture. Furniture that reflects my style. Not the furniture we have. I want new rugs. I want new bedding. New art. New couch. New chairs. I want, I want, I want.

It's sad, really.

I don't need any of it. I have everything I need in this little rental. Trey is the most content person I have ever met. He doesn't need or want anything. For Christmas he asked for family time with me and Jones and a few days in the woods. Seriously. I had a list a mile long.

Selfish.

Anyway, I started my pity-party again a few weeks ago when we were decorating for Christmas. We don't have the room for the big tree that I want. We don't have a fireplace with a mantle to hang our stockings. We don't even have outside outlets to light up the porch. Poor me.

But then something happened the other night when Trey and I were sitting on our old couch looking at our little tree. Trey said it was his favorite tree ever. Jones' first tree. Our first tree as a family of three.

And then it hit me.

It doesn't matter that my Christmas budget didn't allow me to buy new and extravagant decorations. Or that our house is too small for a 12 foot tree. Or that we are sitting on a couch I don't love with our feet on a rug I could do without. None of that matters.

We have each other (that sounds like a Hallmark card, but hear me out). All our needs are met.

That is more than some can say.

The homeless and hungry in our city has been on my heart a lot lately - especially this time of the year. I guess I was oblivious to the fact that there were homeless in Hattiesburg, and even more so in Starkville. Never entered my mind. But our church here is a downtown church that reaches out to the homeless and hungry - an aspect that drew us in to the church - and I see it clearly now. And it breaks my heart.

And there are people going through this Christmas season missing their loved ones. I have heard of two young people - a college student and a young toddler - who have tragically passed away this month. Do you think their loved ones are worried that their tree doesn't measure up or their couch has more than a few spit up stains? Of course not. I cannot imagine what they are going through right now. I don't know them, but my heart breaks for them.

My sassy, hip, young-at-heart Nana had surgery a few weeks ago. She was supposed to be in the hospital for about three days. She is still there. In the ICU. After surgery, her kidneys stopped functioning. Her blood pressure dropped and she needed blood transfusions. The fluids given to her to help with her kidneys started to get in her heart and lungs. Then on Sunday we were told her intestines were leaking into her body. The doctors gave us little hope that she would make it past a couple of days without surgery, but her body would not be able to handle the stress of another surgery. If we decided to go through with the surgery, they gave us a 20% chance that she would make it out alive. That was Sunday. Today is Wednesday. She is still alive, even after the surgery. She remains sedated and on a ventilator, but has started to take some breaths over the machine. She even opened her eyes today for a few seconds. Tell me God isn't with us. People were on their knees praying the entire time she was in surgery. And those people are still praying - everyday.

My Nana was perfectly healthy before she went in for her surgery. We never imagined this outcome.

But I keep telling myself this is not tragic and that a life lived for the Lord will always have a happy ending, even though I selfishly want her to stay with us for many more years. Sometimes telling myself this makes me smile, other times cry uncontrollably.

I guess what I am saying is I wish I could turn back time and use my energy of wanting more, feeling sorry for myself and desiring things that, as it turns out, is completely pointless and use it to help the homeless, the hurting, the sick, the lonely. I wish I would have called my Nana and talked about her day instead of looking online for things I thought would make me happy.

So that's my New Year's resolution: be content. Be satisfied in what the Lord has so graciously blessed me with and not get so caught up in the things that I am told matters - my clothes, where I live, what my house looks like, how Jones is dressed.

Spend time with Jones, not time shopping for him. Love on him now, not focus so much on the future. Love Trey. Everyday. And make sure he knows how much I appreciate him.

Not take anything, anyone, or any day for granted. Focus on what matters.

If you are still reading, sorry for the rambling. Usually I just tell random stories and post pictures of my cute kid. But I feel better now. So, thanks. Whoever you are.

And, so I won't forget, here are our Christmas decorations this year - Jones' first Christmas:

8 months

Jones turned 8 months on the 17th.

8 months. Doesn't seem possible. But I say that every month and probably will every year that I am alive, so I digress.

At 8 months, sweet Jones:

* Has his 8th tooth coming in. 8 teeth in 8 months. Not too shabby.

* Does not sit still. Craws like a pro and stands up as long as his pinkie is holding on to something. He will take steps if you hold his hand.

* Loves to eat. Are we surprised here? He nurses 4 times a day (every 4 hours) and eats rice cereal in the morning with a fruit and most nights he will have a vegetable. Some nights he shows no interest in eating. I don't force it. I think mostly it has to do with sitting still in the high chair.

* Speaking of food, I have made the following for him: butternut squash, sweet potatoes, carrots, peas, green beans, pears, blueberries, cauliflower and asparagus. But his favorite is a banana. I take a bite, he takes a bite. Like a big boy. Cracks me up. He loves it.

* Loves - with all the love in his little heart - bath time. Some nights he cries when we get him out. He will sit all wrinkled up in ice cold water if we would let him. The kid loves to take a bath.

* SLEEPS ALL NIGHT. See previous posts if you are so inclined. This is my favorite thing about 8 months, if we are all perfectly honest. He sleeps from 7:00 until about 6:00 or 6:30.

* Has recently become pretty attached to me. And I don't hate it. I love you right back, Jones. Today we were in his playroom and he crawled from across the room stood up using my shoulder as his prop and kissed me square on the lips. A sweet, gently kiss. No teeth. Then he just stood and stared at me. Melted me heart.

* Started a new thing when he gets teased or thinks something is funny, he turns his nose up like he is snorting and shakes his head back and forth. Super random. Super adorable.

* Gets really excited when Trey comes home from work. It's both of my boys favorite time of the day.

* Still loves the things he has loved for months: Sophie, outside, strolling, swinging, saying da-da-da-ba-ba-da and books.

Monthly pictures are getting nearly impossible. I should really wait until I have someone with me to distract, but nonetheless, here they are:

(Please note the teeth marks on the crib)

More cuteness, for your viewing pleasure:

Love of my life. Stay a baby a little while longer.

Ho! Ho! Ho?

Jones met Santa.

It took two tries.

We have a very nice, adorable park in our neighborhood with playgrounds, walking track, tennis courts and several gazebos. We visit this park often.

They go all out with the Christmas lights every year. So when I saw a sign that said Santa was going to be at the park, I was more than thrilled to take our little one.

It was really cold the night Santa came to the park. But, all for the sake of pictures, I dressed Jones up in his Christmas gear, hats, coats and a blanket and we set out for the park after dark. Santa was going to be there, after all! And free hot cocoa!

I imagined a picturesque scene where children politely stood in line in their Christmas frocks and smiles as their parents (all chipper and kind) were waiting to take their sweet picture.

Wrong.

Average age: 12

And it was chaos.

And cold.

And when I heard the DJ play a rap version of Jingle Bells, I knew it was time to go.

We only saw Santa from afar.

In their defense, I know it was a lot of fun for the older kids. They got a free toy. They chatted it up with the big guy in the red suit. They played on the playground until their little hearts were content.

But me, with my runny-nose 8 month old, it was just a bit much.

A few pictures of the first attempt:

"Ya'll have completely lost touch with reality."

(Clearly I dressed up for the occasion)

So the next day, I dressed Jones in the same outfit (I had, in that picturesque image in my head, him in this green outfit. It would go great with Santa's red suit!) and headed out to the mall to see Santa.

I hate a cheesy Santa.

But this one wasn't so cheesy. Yes, he was planted in front of Dillards and not in a lighted gazebo of my dreams, but he was pretty real looking, as fall as mall Santas go. So I was pleased.

What I wasn't pleased about was a sign (and woman enforcing such sign) prohibiting personal cameras. What?! Trey is armed with camera, camcorder and my phone camera (for easy facebook posting, of course). It doesn't end there. You have to buy a package. The cheapest one? 29 bucks for a glossy 5 x 7 and 4 measly wallets.

Clearly Santa is causing dilemmas this year.

But nonetheless, I have a child celebrating his first Christmas. Santa we must see.


While in line, Trey and I discussed what Jones was going to do when we plopped him down in a large strangers lap while a over-caffeinated teenage girl waved stuffed animals in his face in hopes for a smile.

We knew he wouldn't cry. That is not his style.

We knew he wouldn't smile for the camera. That is certainly not his style.

He performed the way we thought he would: he studied. He wouldn't, even with all the efforts of his parents and a hyper teen, so much as look towards the camera. He just looked at Santa with a puzzled expression on his face.

Such the philosopher.

So, without further adieu, I give you Jones' first picture with Santa:

Happy birthday to my Nana!

Today is my sweet Nana's birthday! Unfortunately she is spending it in the ICU.
As some of you know, she had surgery on Thursday. Things turned out to be a little more complicated than anticipated and her kidneys started to not work properly afterwards, so she was moved to the ICU on Saturday. She is doing a little better everyday and her spirits are still good.

As far as her birthday goes, she says we will have a big party when she gets out!

Please do continue to keep her in your prayers. I am so thankful to be surrounded by such prayer warriors!

busy boy

We've been busy...

Busy helping with the dishes.
Getting in the fridge.

Crawling into boxes.

Going to youth group at church.

Getting every single toy out of the toy drawers.

Standing up and trying to walk.

Crawling all over the place.

Scaring Sophie.

Saying Da-da-ba-da-da, which Trey is convinced is his daddy.

Yes, he has been a busy, busy boy.

But he still takes time to take a little snooze in the stroller...

and all the angels sang

Good news on the sleeping front: we have succeeded in the no-nurse-night plan.

I have waited a while to post this, in fear of jinxing it, but it seems as though we have an all night sleeping baby now. He sleeps from 7 or 7:30 to about 6:30. Can I get an amen from the choir?

The first week was rough. The first night, as I posted, he cried for about 2 and 1/2 hours. Straight. It was a nightmare. But every night got better. Then one glorious night he slept until 5. He did that for about a week - waking up at 5 crying, then going back to sleep.

But now. Oh now, my friends. Now he sleeps 11 glorious hours without so much as a peep.

Ladies, still nursing your large baby through the night at almost 8 months? Stop it. I am a new woman. Last night I went to sleep at 8 and slept straight until 6 am. (minus the fifteen minutes I woke up at midnight because our music box Christmas ornament was playing. On it's on. Ghost of Christmas, perhaps?)