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The holidays are almost complete and dare I say it? Whoo-hoo! Tonight we celebrate the last hours of 2007, the birth of Daddy and pray for an amazing 2008.

2007 was quite the year for expansion: Freddie, Jeff, Noah and Brennan

Can 2008 top that?

Predictions for 2008

• Jack will conquer the toilet.




• Brennan will learn to walk and begin to talk.




• Mama and Daddy will drop 40 lbs each... right, right?!




• Household projects, like new counter tops will be complete.




• The townhouse will be sold. (That would be so, so huge.)

It's easy to bitch about life, think things aren't fair and worry about money. I do it all the time. I know I do. But when you force yourself to sit down and itemize the irreplaceable things in life like healthy-gorgeous-brillant children, a happy marriage, and extended support from friends and family, it's a relief to feel good and revel in it if not but for a moment.

Peace, love and Happy New Year.

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So, we're less than a week away from Christmas and I think I am strangely prepared ... of course, that worries me. Who did I forget?! I hope boys have a great day and aren't disappointed. I think Santa will be good to them.

Of course, if Jack was more committed to the potty, he'd be getting the flying helicopter we promised him. He's got about five days to accomplish that. Will it happen, folks?

Speaking of the potty, he was recently taken to the restroom by his Ga. He did a great job. He told me he had to go, Ga rushed him into the bookstore facilities and he then proceeded to talk to Ga about how to swirl. I really don't know where he comes up this stuff.

The other night when he was eating dinner and out of nowhere Jack turned to his Dad and says, "In the summer I want you to paint this room red."
Daddy was zoned out and I asked him what he had just said to make sure I understood.
"This room. It needs to be red," motioning with his hand in a circle (reminiscent of a flight attendant).
I asked him why.
"We've got a lot of white," he said shrugging his shoulders. "We got white in here. We got white in there. We got white in there. We got too much white."
"But," I reminded him, "The bathroom is blue."
Unimpressed, he shrugged. "This rooms needs to be red."
I suggested someday we painted his room red. That seemed to appease him -- as long as we didn't paint Brennan's room red.
"Daddy! Daddy! JOE!" he said, growing louder. "We need to paint this room red!"
"Red, huh?" he asked not really looking up from his computer.
Good luck, I thought.

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So, you may have noticed I changed the name of my blog ... again. I wanted it to be creative and fun but still reflect the boys in the blog. Then the other night during a late night feeding, I thought of this.

It was right after a recent "amazing" trade that brought every Tiger's fan to tears. This is the year apparently. It's the magical summer that my husband, brother and everyone else from the Mitten state have dreamt about since 1984 when the team mantra, "Bless you boys!" was born.

And my decision to make this change was confirmed the other night when friends in from LA., but Michigan natives, discussed it with Husband with such passion and fever I thought more tears would be shed. The men's eyes (and woman's) twinkled with delight at the thought of the Tigers having the season they've waited so long to see.

And, at the same time, it's appropriate because my boys are blessings. And they deserve blessings. I can only hope and pray that they are blessed with an outstanding life; one that will make them happy.

So this one sticks. I am finally ready to let JWJ go. I only wish I could incorporate the OLD ENGLISH font into the title. If anyone knows how I can do that, let me know.

And even though the thought of watching all 500 baseball games this summer makes me cringe, I know my boys will someday enjoy the crack of the bat, the kosher dogs and the summer evenings with their dad, grandpas, uncles and cousins. That image is something I can't wait to see. Two little boys decked out in Tigers gear, mitts in hand, learning how to keep score.

That's a blessing.

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Brennan and Maggie meet ...

... And they love each other!

I see him wanting to spend summers in L.A. with his girl!

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Apparently, my kidneys are plain old dehydrated. At least, that's what my urologist says. So after months of pain, two surgeries, millions of tests, it's ... dehydration and low calcium. I wonder if they even know what they are talking about...

Yesterday Husband was in Peoria, Ill. for work so I dropped Jackie-Boy off at school and took Baby B with me to my appointment. He is a very good, easy going baby. But he doesn't like to be wrapped up to protect him from the cold. So as soon as we got into the waiting room, he let me know he wanted out.

Once peeled out of his layers, the boy had a great time staring at everyone. I was the youngest adult in the room by 50 years -- and all the surrogate grandparents were quick to stare at my gorgeous boy. And he just ate it up. He cooed and laughed and looked around soaking it all up.

Those of you who know me and my maternal-side of the family, may be familiar with a certain stare. Brennan is concrete proof that this penetrating, perhaps unfriendly looking stare is purely genetic. There was one particular woman who was interested in my baby. He didn't seem thrilled by her. He gave her that Brennan (literally, that's the side of the family it comes from...) stare. It's the same stare my Nana had, my aunt has, my mom, my cousins, my sister, my Jack and me. If you haven't seen it, it's not always taken well. I don't think its meant to be mean, at least not for me, it's just not a rainbow and roses kind of look. Basically, he wasn't impressed. He was annoyed even. (I wish I had a camera to capture the look. Classic.)

When we got back to see the doctor, I discovered I needed an X-ray (and yes, I still have a stone). Obviously, I couldn't take Brennan in with me so the technician offered to get a nurse to watch him. I told him he'd be fine in his seat if she didn't mind just watching him. When I came out of the X-Ray room, about seven nurses were circled around him just cooing and loving on him. And he was eating it up. He was in his prime.

Next, we went into the examination room to wait for the doctor. That's where he decided to have a horribly stinky diaper. The room was small and the stench was strong. I changed him but didn't want to leave the bomb in the trash for some poor nurse. So I grabbed a rubber glove off the counter and stuffed in deep enough to tie off the top. I thought for sure the doctor would come in. I got lucky.

By the time we went to check out, Brennan was having the time of his life. Standing in line, the X-Ray tech found me and wanted to hold him. She said she hadn't gotten her turn yet. Then we went back in the waiting room where I fed him a quick bottle. When the nurses heard I was still there, they came for one last coo and sniff. (They literally smelled his head.) Again, the other patients (a new batch) ate up everything. And when he let out the biggest burp he has ever gotten out, more than person exclaimed, "Good boy! That was a good one."

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Quick hits.

** The other morning, Jack crawled into bed with us making the total number of occupants to be 4... Daddy, Brennan, Jack and Mama. He laid there a moment hugging me. Then he sat up and looked as his family lined up like sardines. He turned to me and said, "Mama, we need some more grils around here." (grils = girls.)

** Brennan has been laughing out loud for some time now. It's amazing the first time you hear the pure squeal. And now, the three of us trip over each other to get him to laugh more.

** Jack is brillant -- of course. We're very conditioned to compliment him when he accomplishes tasks. We reinforce him, help him to grow more and more confident. The other day I caught him doing it to himself. He was playing on his Thomas computer and he got an answer correct and I hear... "You're so smart, Jack!" and then "I know! Thanks."

** How do I know that Brennan is Irish? The kid raises one eyebrow. Good thing we went with the Irish name. It's a tribute to Nana for sure... she and Ma: wicked brow raisers.

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Here are the boys crowded around the mini-DVD player so their Daddies can watch sports. Wrong, isn't it?

I don't know if you know my husband. But usually when people are off from work, they want to walk away from anything relating to their line of work. Everyone needs a break. Not so with Daddy-O.

For him, heaven is sports 24-hours a day. You'd think the fact that he's a sports writer would take some of the magic away from the wide world of it. Sadly, this is not the case.

In fact, No. 1 often has to yell his Daddy's given name instead of his title in order to get his attention. With remote in hand, there seems to be nothing more pleasurable than flipping through ESPN X, Y and Z, ABC, FOX and the BTN.

But when you combine his disease with my brother's it is simply out of control. The uncle is just as obsessed. Truthfully, they should have married each other.

Thanksgiving weekend was literally filled with 20 + hours of sports -- probably more. And not just teams we should give a damn about... I understand the Spartans, the Lions... but Boise State? Miami of Ohio basketball? At least being a sportswriter, there is a smidge of an excuse... staying on the pulse and all that. But with my brother it just doesn't make sense. They would rather watch any kind of sports than do anything else -- except maybe eat. (Keep in mind, I don't hate sports. I don't. Trust me, I had to watch EVERY SINGLE Tigers game this summer. It was supposed to be a magical summer. Apparently, no one told them.)

Maybe you are wondering how it's possible two people out of a party of 12 would dictate the TV for an entire weekend. The truth is, I am not really sure. I think they just expect it and none of us challenge it.

But, guess what? Christmas is over for you two. Husband has lost all remote privileges in any house that he doesn't pay the cable bill. And my sister and I are sick of the brother always controlling the set. PSssst... it's OVER!

Note to you, husband and brother:

I would rather watch the same Baby Einstein with my boys and nephew 3 times in a row than another mindless sports event that has no legitmate reason for being on TV. You got 20 plus hours Thanksgiving. Sister and I (and your children) each get 20 plus programming hours. We're talking 100 hours of sports-free television. I can't wait!

If you are already scoffing and planning to ignore us, don't worry, I have one weapon: Jack. I can easily whisper in his ears and get him to want to watch something terrible, unbearable. And not just on the teeny DVD player that you used this past weekend.

So, let's play nice. Let's remember we're family and everyone should be somewhat satisfied with the entertainment over the holidays ...

Otherwise be prepared for Yo Gabba Gabba! (This has music, ridiculous dancing and colorful puppets. You'll hate it.)

Freddie, 8 months, Brennan 11 weeks, Jack, 3

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Oh, how times have changed over these last 10 weeks.

Jack has never been vicious to his brother. From the moment Brennan arrived he's either been indifferent or interested and never, ever mean or angry. That's not to say he was thrilled about his arrival either.

These days he's turned into turbo big bro and is very protective of Brennan Fredrick -- as he often calls him. He's quick to run for a diaper yelling, "My brother needs a change!" or tell me he needs a bottle, "My brother is hungry! He told me he wants a bottle!"

Yesterday, I had both boys on my bed. Jack was watching Dora, Brennan was wedged in between two pillows covered with his favorite blanket. Both boys were safe, I assure you. I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. When I turned back to check on the boys, Jack was holding Brennan's forearm.

"Holding the baby's hand?" I asked him.
"I don't want my baby to fall, Mama," he said, never taking his eyeballs off the show.

This afternoon, I dropped Jack off for school. Daddy had put Brennan in his carseat and he wasn't happy about it. As we pulled down the driveway, Jack turned to his brother and started talking to him, trying to get him to calm down.

"It's OK baby. Jack is here. I have to go to school. I know you are sad, but I will be back. And someday when you are big like me, you'll go to school with me. And we can be best friends. It will be great!"

And B stopped crying and just listened and smiled.

"He smiled Mama! He likes me! This is great!"

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Daddy came home from Purdue around midnight last night. No.1 was trying hard to stay awake to see him. He wanted to tell him about the Santa Claus movie (Fred Claus), the latest boo-boo and his new toy he got at The Donald's.

No.2 was cashed out.

When he walked in the house, both boys were jammied up and under the covers cuddling. Jack practically squealed when he saw Daddy walk up the stairs. And he immediately filled him in on everything missed.

Meanwhile No.2 was perched on the pillows snoozing.

Jack and Daddy went on and on discussing the plot, examining the boo-booed nose. Daddy and I noticed Brennan open just one eye to see what was going on. Slowly, a smile spread across his tiny face and the other eye opened to make sure it really was Daddy.

Then his legs went crazy kicking, arms swinging in excitement. You could see it on his face: My Daddy is home!!

He started cooing and getting excited.
He completely recognized his Pop.

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My boy Jack is a thinker. He grasps concepts that must be well beyond his age.

As with many children, he's a tinge obsessed with growing up. It's "When I'm bigger I can chew gum" and "When I'm bigger I can drive." It's a common comment from his three-year-old mouth.

But last night as we were getting ready for the bath, he said to me:

"When I'm bigger, I want to be a Daddy."

I told him he would be.

"And then when I become a Daddy, Daddy will become a Grumpa."

Brillant, I told him. That's true.

"And when Daddy becomes a Grumpa, you'll become a Grandma."

That's right, I told him.

"And then there will be two Grandma Rexes," he said holding up two fingers.

Shocking, isn't it? How did he grasp that concept? Most men three times his age can't wrap around it.

Then today as we cuddled on the couch he brought this Daddy talk up again.

This time I asked him if he was a Daddy, and Daddy was a Grumpa, and Mama was a Grandma Rex, what would Brennan be? He looked at me puzzled.
And I told him he'd be an uncle.

"Uncle Brennan, Mama? That's silly!" Jack said laughing hysterically and glancing at his infant brother happily vibrating.

But I assured him he would be. And then I said maybe his baby would call him Uncle B.

"Or Uncle Rex?"

Sure, I said laughing.

Next I asked him what he planned to name his baby.

"Fred, like my Ga," shrugging his shoulders.

Of course.

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HAppy HAllowEEn!

Jack and I spent the evening carving the pumpkins he picked out with Ga and Ma. So, the big one is Daddy, the middle one is Mama, Jack is sitting next to his and that little teeny gourd is Brennan.

Yup, that's the one JTR picked out for his baby bro. It's hard and a little moldy and I can't get into it to carve it.

Brotherly love.

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The class of 2025.

Brennan's cousins: Freddie, (almost) 7 months, Noah (almost) 3 months and Brennan, 6 weeks today.

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Brennan and his Great Grandpa

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35 people later, Brennan's baptism is complete.
He's officially Catholic.

We had relatives from Virginia, Colorado, Pennsylvania, Illinois, Ohio and the D come in for the weekend to help celebrate the newest member of the club.

And Brennan did really, really well.
No tears when he was drizzled with holy water. No tears as he got handed from aunt to aunt, cousin to cousin, friend to friend, uncle to uncle, grandparent to grandparent ... he was certainly the star of the day. But there was some cute competition. Suddenly my family is filled with baby boys. Cousins galore. Someday when they are all mobile it's going to be insane at family get-to-gethers.

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Great idea: Let's have another. Like with drinking, it's not always the smartest way to go. And like drinking, the hangover can hurt.

When we decided to have another baby, I worried I wouldn't be able to balance an infant with a three-year-old. So far, it's the three year old who is having the roughest time. And I am torn between feeling bad for him and being so frustrated. Sometimes I wonder where my Jack has gone.

He is just having a really, really hard time. I am not going to lie. I could be quiet about it and pretend we live in Pleasantville. But it's just not going to help. He is fighting us on everything. When he's angry he wants us to "just go to work" and when he's not miffed, he's clingy. It's terrible. We're at our wits end.

He's lucky he's gorgeous, that's all I can say.

He won't eat without a fight. He won't go to school with out tears (but then begs to go when he's not there). He won't go to bed without us upstairs, in bed too. Time out is laughable. Punishing someone who is 3 is nearly impossible.

And we're not sure if this is the terrible 3s or the shock of suddenly not being the center of attention. I heard 3 is worse than 2. At two, he didn't talk that much and everything he said was cute and innocent. At 3, he's right there with us. He talks as well as a 17-year-old -- with the same amount of attitude.

Don't worry, he is good with the baby. He wants to know what he's doing, wants to help. The doctor said everything he's doing is on track -- perfectly normal. But "normal" is horrible right now.

And he's three. He's just a baby; you can't reason him. Mix that with hot temper and you've got one hell of a tough shot to take.

Hand me the salt and a lemon.

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Check it out.

Daddy's a star... well, sort of.

http://www.lsj.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20071004/VIDEO01/71004007

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This post is a 3 pronger.

See new pictures below.

Jackism:

They are learning about pets at school. Each child was supposed to talk about their pet. My kid said sadly: "I don't have a pet. I have a Baby Rex."

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B up close.

B and Ga

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The boys.

Jack and Freddie the day before the baby arrived.

Brennan sleeping -- during the day, of course.

Daddy and Brennan sleeping.

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Brennan and Daddy @ the hospital.

I will try to post updated pictures periodically. Of course, this shot is already two weeks old... today.

I took 5 rolls of film to Target this weekend to get developed. 99 percent of it were shots taken by Jack. Maybe I should post them here. That way you can see the world from the eyes of a 3-year-old. There are a lot of nostril shots and crotches ... $50 worth of crotch shots. I was really happy to open those shots. Really happy.

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Brennan getting burped.

Soon after he spit up all over his grandmother.

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So we're a week in, and things seem to be going well. We finally figured out the digital camera that we got when Jack was born and I even was able to download the shots on my computer.

Whoo-hoo! Welcome to the year 2000 -- or earlier.

Soon, I will be posting a test. How well do you know the Rexs? (Rexes?)

The pictures on the camera were from Jack's first week of life. I still have the same outfit so I will be dressing Brennan and it's up to you to choose: Jack or Brennan?

The similarities are staggering. So, as soon as I get that little project complete (maybe this weekend?) I will want to see some traffic and feedback and maybe even a comment or two posted on this blog.

Brennan has been a fantastic baby so far. He barely cries, only when he's in need. He's a great sleeper -- last night he went to bed around 12:30 and got up at 9:15 this morning. We fed, he cooed and looked around for about an hour and now he's conked out on the couch again.

Jack is doing so-so with the whole not-an-only-child-anymore life change. He's been nothing but sweet to his Baby Rex, but he's not acting himself in other aspects. When people come over, he's a monkey and climbs all over, showing off. He's not listening really well right now and he's got a short fuse. But I would guess it would be difficult to go from the center of attention to an older version. Stina dedicated the entire weekend to Jack loving and that helped. And Ma has tried to keep him entertained.

Yesterday was his first day back to preschool and it wasn't the best drop off. He made me ride along, and Daddy was going to take him in. But when arrived, he flipped out and wanted me to come to. Normally, that wouldn't be a big deal except I was in my PJs and unbrushed. I had been breastfeeding the baby when I jumped in the car to go. I didn't even have shoes on -- slippers.

But when your 3-year-old is panicked, and his eyes are filled with tears, you make sacrifices. You allow yourself to look like an arse, and stumble into school to make him feel better. And yes, I felt like a complete ARse. Of course, his teachers all knew I had just had a baby but still.

As soon as Jack walked in, the kids surrounded him practically cheering that he was back. Jack is the man apparently in his class. When he wasn't paying attention, Daddy and I slipped out.

And of course, I felt bad all afternoon for doing it that way. And when I called his teacher to check up on him (yes, I am a little neurotic) his teacher said he was absolutely fine. When he noticed I was gone, he just said, "Hey, where's my Mama?" and she told him him home taking care of the baby. And he said, "OK." And that, was that. He ate his entire lunch, took a nap and was a great kid for her. (Why can't he do any of these things for me, I wonder?!)

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Day 2, about 30 minutes after circumcision.
He took it like a champ. Daddy felt really, really bad.

Baby Rex has finally arrived. And his name is Brennan Fredrick. Brennan is my Nana's maiden name, Fredrick after Ga. Jack was named after his Papa. So both my boys are representing their grandparents and our family heritage. I really think that's important.

This is the end of Journeys with Jack as we know it. I haven't decided if I am blend both my son's lives or if I am going to have two separate blogs to represent them. I am perfectly aware that this is a struggle I am going to have for the rest of my life.

My whole life I wanted boys -- and now I have 'em.

Brennan is perfect in every way. He's still a little swollen from his fast delivery. But everything is perfect. And everyone who meets him thinks he's gorgeous. (Of course.) Big Brother Jack was thrilled to meet him. He quickly let us know he still plans to call him "My Baby Rex" and then he noticed my fun bed and crazy remote and wanted to watch TV. Don't worry, Ga got it all on camera. Typical boy.

I am super tired but thrilled. We are so unbelievably lucky to be blessed with such children. It just overwhelms me.

The labor was far from easy but I just don't know how many details I want reveal online. Let me just say, it was hard. Very hard. Oh my gosh I want to die hard. And there were no drugs.

More pictures to come when we figure out how to download.

Thanks to everyone for your prayers.

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It's official. Baby Rex will arrive next week. We go in the hospital Sunday night @ 5 p.m. and hopefully he'll decide to come out sometime between the ninth and 10th.

We went to the doctor's office today -- everything looks good. I am dilated a fingertip. So, that's good. I am starting off with a little lead.

This time next week, we'll be a family of four -- hopefully on day two.

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One week to go, almost.
We just had our second to last appointment and the baby continues to measure big. And I am big. And tired. And sore. I just don't remember these aliments first time round.

Jack's excitement continues to grow about Rex. (at least I think...) Last night he was telling me that babies can't talk. He was demonstrating different cries the baby could use to try to talk. "That's how babies talk, Mama." He's so smart. How'd he even come up with that?

And then he told me he plans to kiss and tickle his toes. And he wondered if I realized that babies go potty in diapers.

He's obviously been thinking about this for a while.

Tonight we clear out the babies room for the painter tomorrow. I am very, very excited to get that room together. I don't know if I will wash many of "boy" items just in case. Although, I am pretty confident our boy to girl ratio will continue to grow with R2's arrival.

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I am feeling a little better about the new baby's arrival. Things are finally starting to fall into place. We've hired a painter to paint the room (there's just no way we have time to do it), the bathroom, our summer project, is nearing completion and Jack has picked his brother's name.

It's not surprising really. We just should have asked him months ago. He knows what he likes and he sticks to it. He picked Stina's wedding dress and Ma's mother of the bride dress. He just knows, and he let's you know.

We drilled him on it, mixing up the order of the list and every time he picked the same name. So, it's settled. And someday if Baby Rex doesn't like it (and no, it's not Rex) he can go after his brother. (We have also finalized a girl name just in case.)

And no, I am not going to say what we settled on. You can ask me any way you like and I won't spill it. I know, I know. It's annoying. But you know what else is annoying? Everyone's opinion. I don't need to hear it. I didn't name your kid and chances are I don't like the name you chose. So there. Fiesty, I know, but this has been a long struggle.

When we had Jack, we named him and that was it. There was no debate. Jack was my name from like 8th grade. There was no arguing. Even though some people still gave us their opinions -- both good and bad -- it was a done deal. But with R2 everyone wanted to put in their two cents because we couldn't agree. And I realized no two people like the same names. We'd throw out a name and people would give us detailed stories about why that was the most terrible name ever. Thanks for the info. Kinda rude, not going to lie. I am not sure why people feel like they can say they don't like a name. It's not like someone would say, "Hey man, what's up with that shirt?" Why is it OK to challenge the name of offspring? It really doesn't make sense.

I have a whole new respect for people who don't find out the sex or tell the name of their baby. Don't get me wrong, I am baby-name obsessed and I always want to know the sex. And I am 100 percent sure that I will still ask people. But I think I am going to be kinder about it. I certainly will never let people know I hate the name they picked. (And chances are, I will.)

Those who don't give in are actually brillant. There's no input, no feedback. Just you, your spouse and the baby sharing a wonderful secret that will only be revealed at birth.

For Baby #3, that's how we'll roll.

One small addition:
Yesterday was Ma's birthday. Jack's concerns? Did she eat cake without him?! Oh, and he wanted open her gifts for her. Happy Birthday Ma!

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Sept. 10

• It's the 253rd day of the year.
• In 1608, John Smith was elected president of the Jamestown, Virgina settlement.
• It's the day baseball legend Roger Maris was born.
• In 1963, 20 African American students first entered the Alabama public schools.

And it's the day Baby Rex will arrive. We've scheduled his birth.

9.10.07.

He will be born on St. Nicholas of Tolentino's feast day. He is the patron saint of animals, babies (sounds like a good thing), and souls in purgatory. And coincidentally, Nicholas is on our top five list for names right now.

We went to doctor yesterday and between his potential girth, my kidney issues and Joe's schedule, a planned induction was the way to go. There is still a chance I will have to have a C-Section but I really hope not.

And I also talked to my Dr. about having another ultrasound and she basically shot us down. She said in 25 years, the ultrasound technician has never been wrong. Well, that's fine. I guess will have to just see. I don't care if Rex is a boy or girl but now the suspense is difficult. I am betting we will be a house full of boys. But who knows?

Jack is in good spirits about the baby. He told us he's planning to show the baby his trains and play with him. He still insists Rex should live at Ga and Ma's house but we just try to ignore him when he says that. His world is about to be rocked. No more sleeping with his 'rents and staying up late. We need to get these kids on a schedule so I can make it through.

So this entry begins the countdown: Today is Aug. 10 ...

We have 31 days.

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Jack continues to be a speech sponge. Anything you say can and will be used against you. His latest? "Knock it off" and "Oh, man!" We have a suspect for "Knock it off" but we're just not sure where he learned to say, "Oh, mannnnn." And of course, he uses these phrases appropriately -- and often.

This weekend we went to a Baseball Tigers game. Jack wasn't pleased to find we didn't have a seat for him. Three and under gets in free. And of course, we were sandwiched by other fans so there were no extra seats. We had to negotiate to get him to give up his seat for Daddy. But he wasn't happy about it and reminded his father often that he'd given up his seat for him.

And when they announced Magglio, he said to us, "Magglio?! I know Magglio. Hey! Daddy! Magglio!" (And that's when you know there's too much baseball on TV at home.)

Potty training has been going really, really well. He's an old pro. So it really surprised Daddy when his son chickened out at the public restroom and ran out the in door. During the busy game. Leaving a frantic Daddy behind. I was in the girls room when this all occurred but Gramma said you could tell it hadn't gone well when he spotted Jack being carried down the stairs. He stuck with me for the rest of the game.

I think it will be the Saturday night fireworks that stick with Jack. He loved them all. And with each boom he'd say, "That wasn't too loud!" or "Wow! That's cool." He even made friends with a White Sox fan who couldn't resist his pure joy.

On a side note, his teachers were asking him last week if I was having a boy or a girl baby. And Jack told them, "We're having a Baby Rex." And when they tried to follow up and explain, he grew frustrated and said sternly. "No! We're having a BA-BY REX!" They thought this was hilarious of course.

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Welcome Noah John McAvoy Craner. Jack has a new cousin to someday corrupt. He was born this morning at 5 a.m. weighing 7 lbs. 11 oz; 22 inches long!

I have been waiting to discuss the wedding experiences online because I wanted to be able to display pictures. As soon as I get good ones, I will post information on both weddings. 1 was a success; the other, not so much.

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In June, Jack had his first experience at an amusement park -- Busch Gardens. So while I was slaving away at work, sweating my pregnant buns, he was having the time of his life with Daddy and his aunts and uncles. Ever since, whenever there is a Busch Gardens commerical on TV, he shouts out, "I did that! I want to do that again!" And I am sure he will, many, many times.
Below are some action shots of the day... I just got these pictures from Tishy. (The one person who consistently takes pictures of my kid.)

(Click on the shots for a bigger view.)

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July has been outta control. We're already to the 16th and I keep waiting for "summer vacation" to occur.


Sunday marked my 31st week for this pregnancy... we've made the final stretch team!!


This week, your baby measures about 16 inches long. He weighs a little over 3 pounds and is heading into a growth spurt. He can turn his head from side to side, and his arms, legs, and body are beginning to plump out as needed fat accumulates underneath his skin. He's probably moving a lot, too, so you may have trouble sleeping because your baby's kicks and somersaults keep you up. Take comfort: All this moving is a sign that your baby is active and healthy.


We're only about 60+ days away and I don't feel prepared at all.

• We just picked out the paint but the room is far from baby-fied.


• I haven't really bought anything -- but if Rex is a boy, we're set between Jack's things, hand-me-downs and the addition of Cousin Freddie's things.


• We don't have a name picked out. No seriously, we don't. I hate it. I HATE it. With Jack, the second we heard boy, he was named. Of course, it was my favorite name since like 8th grade, but still ... I don't want to be those people who name him/her after we see the baby. So cheesy. And the thing is, we don't have a name for a girl really either. We have ideas but without knowing the sex, we just can't seem to get behind them. We have the boys list narrowed to 5. We have the girls narrowed to about 2. Middle names for girls are still up in the air, middle for boy is set.

Hormones are in full effect. I think it's likely we are having a boy. But tomorrow I may doubt the ultrasound again. Everyone says I am "carrying" the baby differently. I surely feel different. And then I think about "different" and it gets scary. This past weekend we ran into some people who have a down syndrome granddaughter nearly the same age as Jack. They didn't know she had downs until after the baby was born. She was just cute as a button, very friendly and active but the whole thing made me worried. Having a baby is just plain scary. And I know from experience that worry doesn't go away after the baby arrives. It just grows stronger.

Jack-isms.

We were home this weekend for my 900th dress fitting. Swear, I have had more than the bride. 'Stina's wedding is this weekend and I have to have it ready by Saturday. Anyway, we were leaving to go back to Okemos and I noticed Jack hadn't picked up his toys. So I asked him about it. His answer? "Grandma's OK with it." And then he shrugged his shoulders. I mean, seriously?! Is he 12?

Jack is having a "friend" birthday party at a local park the weekend of his 3rd birthday. (True, it will be his second party celebrating the same day but whatever!) We were talking about all the people he invited. He wanted his two best friends, his teacher, the director, Ga and Ma and then I started listing the other kids in his class. I had invited everyone so no one had hurt feelings. He seemed fine with my choices until I got to one particular girl. "Really, Mama?" He asked me like I was crazy. "I don't want her. She's a hitter." (I will tell you that it was funnier when he said her name but that just seems wrong to reveal the name of the hitter. Someday she may be president and that's when we'll drudge that up.)

Final one. Jack was the ring bearer in Colleeny's wedding a few weeks ago. He was very excited about the "dancing" shoes that came with the tuxedos, the party, the flower girl. We were hopeful things would go well. Not so much. After seeing 250 people waiting in the church, my boy wanted nothing to do with it. The flower girl at some point hurt his feelings and he wanted to walk with me. The church coordinator was hard as nails and needless to say it didn't go off. But he did get announced at the reception which he enjoyed and he got to dance some.

So this weekend is Stina's wedding. We were driving in the car and out of no where he said to me. "Hey Mama! Stina and Uncle Jeff are getting married." I agreed. "First we go to the church and then there's a party." Yes, I told him. "And Mama and Daddy are married? And Ga and Ma? And Aunt B and Uncle Fred?" Again, I agreed with him. "Will I get dancing shoes for Stina's wedding?" I told him yes. "I want to walk with you." I told him he could. Then nothing more. I looked back at him and he was smiling as he looked out the window. He looked relieved. I was blown away by his grasping the concept of marriage. And his worry of walking down the aisle. He hadn't mentioned it since the mishap. Of course to him, the best part is the party afterward but then again, he's not far off.

34

I have had this recurring dream that our baby is actually a girl for the last few weeks. I know it seems unlikely considering either you see it or you don't on the ultrasound but it leaves me uneasy. Husband thinks I am crazy, and maybe I am. I am just saying that's what keeps happening in my dreams.

Today I had my 28 week appointment. I took the test to see if I have diabetes. I would be shocked if I did. Although, considering this pregnancy, nothing should shock me.

Everything is great, the baby's heartbeat is strong, my weight is on target, and to quote her, he's measuring "BIG." There's no surprise considering his brother's size and his new cousin.

We loosely picked the date for induction. It will happen the week of 9/10, the day has yet to be determined. It will basically depend on what days my doctor is on call. It sounds crazy to schedule his arrival but with the football gmes ahead, it's a must. Plus, now we'll be able to figure out when my parents need to come to watch Jack. She wants to do it during the week so that when the Pitt game comes, the baby and I are already settled and my parents can be here for support. The following game is Notre Dame, away, but it's been promised that it will only be a day trip. We'll see how that rolls.

I also mentioned my dream to my doctor. I don't really care, I just want to know for sure. She laughed and said, we'd find out in September. Sucky. I was hoping she'd toss me a bone and order another ultrasound. There's a possibility I can have another, but only for medical reasons. And then she said, "Maybe your third will be a girl." That made me shiver. I just don't know at this point if I could go through another pregnancy. It's been tough on all of us, including Rex and I don't know if I can deal with this level of worry. However, I always thought I would have three, so only time will tell. I may forget how difficult this has been. Then again, the blog isn't going to make that too easy.

No names as of yet. Maybe will just drop all of our current choices and go with Rex. Would that be so bad?

Or... there's a couple in New Zealand who is fighting to name their baby 4Real. The government denied the name because of the numeral.

Sure think the grandparents would be excited by 4Real.
"These are my grandsons, Jack, Freddie and 4Real."

Cute, real cute.

33

Another year of the blog has passed without much fan fair. It's now been 2 years of Jack's life recorded. My own e-baby book. I am not sure how to merge this with Rex, perhaps I will dissolve this blog all together.

However, being the second kid in the pecking order in my family, I know it's not really fair that Rex will have to share his blog with his brother. Technically they should each continue to have their own. "Rex Roundup" and "Journeys with Jack" may just be too much for me to manage. Would I just cut and paste the same entries just to fill the page?

We'll just have to see.

Yesterday Jack and I went to the mall to get measured for his tux for an upcoming wedding. he is starring in two events this summer. I am a little nervous about his debut because the church is very large with a looong aisle. But my friend isn't concerned in the least. Let's hope she remains upbeat when he either a: refuses to walk down the aisle b: screams MAMA!! and runs up to me on the alter or c: won't keep the tux shoes on.

'Cause the kid didn't like the tux. He didn't really like the jacket and sure hated the tux shoes. They were really cute little patton leather dress shoes with ties. He kept taking them off. He thought his Spider-Man tennies would do fine. That could be a problem.

This wedding could make or break him. It could be a great trial run for Stina's big day or it could make him say "Oh hells no" when it comes to her event.

And how do I prepare him? Maybe I should get him a little book or something. It's just the not the same for boys as girls. The flower girls for both events are thrilled at the prospect of the big day. Dressy dresses, flowers and foo-foo hair. Jack would rather play Spider-Man and dig in the dirt. He's perfectly happy barefoot, messy hair -- being a boy.

***
A big yipee on the arrival of Margaret June "Maggie" Hudson. The State News multiples!

32

Around Okemos, Spider-Man continues to reign supreme.

31

Nothing in life is easy. Blah, blah, blah. We all know that's true. But for our family, it's just too true.

Piece of advice: Never fly with us.

When Jack came home with his Daddy from DC, he had an 8 hour delay because of rain in Baltimore.

When Jack came home with Mama and Ma from Florida, he had an 8 hour delay because of mechanical difficulties.

The almost-three-year-old is a seasoned travelor or who thinks delays are just part of the territory. (Not that this is completely untrue.)

Going through security in Fort Myers (his 4th flight in 1 week) he went up to the security person and said, "Um... where do I take my shoes off?" It was was priceless.

Then once we got deplaned for the "little engine problem" he ran around the terminal telling old people, "The plane is broken. It can't fly."

My parents got him this little suitcase with matching carry-on that he is very serious about. A good mother would have taken a picture of him cruising through Reagan and then Ft.Myers but I am not a good picture mother. That image is just going to have to be saved in my heart. He looked so cute. Every adult he walked past gushed over his cuteness.

And despite a few meltdowns, his 16 hours of airplane delays went off relatively well. He kept telling me Sunday night he was ready to get back to Okemos -- but so was I. He made friends with all the people flying on our plane and the ticket checkers even set up a Disney movie on a mini TV for him and the other kids suffering in the terminal. He was the only one to watch Monsters Inc. twice, though. Loves his movies.

Luckily, Jack's aunt takes lots of pictures. Looking back on his baby pictures, she's probably taken the majority of them -- or at least the good ones. Here he is waiting patiently to go to his grandparent's anniversary party. Daddy had just slicked his hair back. Looks angelic, doesn't he?

30

Ding-dong the stent is dead. Whoo-hoo! I went to the doctor today and they removed the agony that was invading my insides since Memorial Day weekend. The long, approximately 12 inch rubber tube was helping my kidney-to-bladder function but then kicking my arse everywhere else. The doctor had to go in and get it today and when he pulled it out, I couldn't believe how long it was. It's pretty disgusting, actually. No wonder it made me feel so terrible!

They used a camera and then a mini-metal hand to go in and get it out. I watched all the action on a screen. Each time the doctor had the tube in his grasp, the baby kicked it out. I think it happened about three times. It's not that you saw the foot, just a bump and movement. It was crazy to watch. I think my doctor was getting a little frustrated.

Now I am urologist free until about 2 weeks after Baby Rex is born. Then I go in to find out what's wrong with with it through tests they can't do now because of the pregnancy.

The fam went to Virginia this weekend to help celebrate Husband's parents anniversary. Jack and Husband are staying there until Wednesday and are doing it up at Busch Gardens as we speak.

29

I am glad to say it's Friday -- the Friday after Memorial Day. 'Cause let's just say, the holiday didn't turn out as we had planned. We were supposed to go to Cago to visit with family, and friends and instead spent the entire weekend -- through Monday -- at the hospital.

I started to feel crummy Thursday night. But I thought I had just overdone it. Being 24 weeks pregnant, I get tired quickly. And let's face it, the pregnancy has been far from easy. So like any other woman, I ignored the pain. Work went OK in the morning. I was still sore, and I wasn't feeling 100 percent but that was nothing new. Ma called me, and was immediately concerned because she said I sounded sick. My boss asked me if I was OK. She thought I looked sick. I knew we were planning on a huge weekend. I wanted to -- I needed to -- go to Chicago. But something inside me told me to call my OB. It made sense, I would call them, get some reassurance and continue with my plans.

30 minutes later I was on my way to the hospital. They were worried I was in labor. 16 weeks early. Yes, I drove myself. This is when it becomes a blur. My parents wanted to come up right away but I was still thinking we'd make it to Chicago. Our friend -- who was supposed to go with us to the C -- came over to watch Jack. I am not sure when Husband got to the hospital. I was just worried about Rex. As soon as they determined he was fine, and I wasn't going into labor, I lost control of everything. The details are disgusting. You can imagine. I fell apart. The pain was greater than when I had Jack. And Jack was 9 pounds 6 oz. 21 1.5 inches ... pushed out in 38 minutes. No drugs.

Apparently I talked to people on the phone Friday and Saturday. If you called me, I am sorry. I have no memory of our conversations.

So there I was hooked up to all these baby monitors feeling like I may not make it. And Rex wasn't happy either. He didn't like the monitors pushing on his area. He kept kicking them. Again and again, we were trying to listen to his heartbeat and we just heard, POUND, POUND, POUND. A good sign, really. He was in there, staying in there and didn't want visitors or interruptions, damn it.

Tests came back. Kidney infection, likely a stone. I would have to have surgery to see what was going on in there. I can't begin to tell you how much kidney issues hurt. I feel for all people who have experienced what I have experienced. I feel for the people who will someday experienced it. It's just so bad.

It took them two days to stabilize the pain. I had my surgery Sunday morning. My parents came up Friday and went back and forth between in our house and the hospital. Poor Jack didn't really know what was going on. He took it well. He's a very good boy and tried to understand why Mama was sick.

Did you know having a general anesthetic when you are pregnant can cause the baby to be aborted? I didn't. 15 minutes before going into surgery, I learned that tidbit. So, I opted out. Though the percentage was small, I wasn't about to lose Rex. So I opted for a spinal. That means I was awake. I was numb from the waist down, but awake. It's blurry how it went. All I know is my stone was huge and my infection was great. The doctor told me that if I hadn't gotten my surgery, the infection would have spread to the baby. My God.

I got out Monday. My arms are completely bruised. I found out my veins don't agree with IVs. Every vein they tried collapsed. Literally, collapsed. I made quick friends with Ruth the IV specialist. She was the only person who could get anything to work. Failed veins makes it difficult to get drugs... this causes more pain. You get what I am saying here. I now have a stent in my kidney to help with function. The doctor told my dad it hasn't worked properly for at least 6 months. It could be a problem for me post-baby.

I went back to work Tuesday afternoon. It was too early. I went back Wednesday for the morning. The nurses had said I would be a new person and could back to work anytime. But I am not a new person. I still feel like crap -- better than the weekend but far from good. Thursday I was home with bleeding. Today I am sore, still bleeding. My stent is poking me, and my baby is having fun kicking me.

But the baby is fine. And that's all that matters.

28

It's been a while since I updated on Jack and his 'isms. The kid is a crack-up.

Husband's injury.
For those of you who don't know (and I can't remember if I already wrote about this here) Husband broke his foot in three places and severely sprained his ankle. So, it's been a rough 2 weeks or so. He's been hobbling around on crutches and a scooter and generally out of commission. On Wednesday of last week, I was picking Jack up from school when he told me that we needed to go to the store. I asked him why and he proceeded to let me know that we were, "Out of Cranberry juice." I suggested that we call Daddy and see if he would like to go with us to the store. With that, Jack sighed loudly and dramatically. I asked him what was wrong. And he said, "Daddy walks like this, Mama. He slow. He should stay home." And then he walked across the parking lot limping and dragging a foot. It was hilarious. Daddy wasn't picked up to go to store.

That's her name.
Jack has always had a bit of an obsession with names. Full names. When he introduces himself it's always, first, last middle. When he talks about Daddy, it's first and last. He named my dad Ga and if you call him anything but, he'll correct you. For the entire visit that his Grandmother was in town from Virginia, he called her by her full name. Grandma and then her last name. EVERY TIME. I tried to tell him Grandma would work and he looked at me like I was insane. "Mama! That's not her name!" he'd say. I brought it up to him several times. Why was he being so formal?! He must have had enough because he looked at me square in the face and said sternly, "'Cause that's her name!" I couldn't argue with him.

Hard as nails.
This past weekend we went to a cousin's baseball tournament in Holland, Mich. Jack was thrilled to see his older, 4th grader cousin and play with her for hours. At the park they had a playground with all the fixings. When it started to get cool, I decided he should put his jacket on. So, I walked over to the swings where he was happily playing. When he saw me, he started to run toward me, excited. I saw the fall in slow motion. The kid just slid across the crummy wood chips and ended up eating some. He laid there for a second. I asked him if he was OK. He shook his head yes, pushed himself up and spitting out wood said, "I tough, Mama. I tough."

***

Baby Rex
23 weeks... 17 to go.
Your baby is more than 11 inches long and weighs just over a pound. He may be able to feel your movements now, so put on some tunes and dance around the house. No matter what race your baby is, he looks red now due to blood vessels showing through his transparent skin. His true skin tone will develop over the course of his first year. Blood vessels in your baby's lungs are developing to prepare him for breathing, but complete lung development will take many more months. The lungs are the last organ to fully develop.

The baby now kicks me if he feels like I have been sitting at my desk too long. He will pound into me until I get up, stretch and walk around for a while. He's very particular about how I sit too. If he doesn't like the postion, he nails me. I am a little worried though. I have 17 more weeks to go and he's only 11 inches, 1 pound. What happens when he's 8 pounds and more?

27

Freddie at 6 and a half weeks.

26

Turns out R2 (or Baby Rex as Jack calls him) has chosen the perfect year to be born. Not only is this the Year of the Pig, but it's the year of The Golden Pig. This, according to The Seoul Times, comes about every 600 years. Apparently, Korean officials are expecting a 10 percent raise in children born this year. Studies show people of Asian descent waited to have their baby this year. We just got lucky.

"A person born this year is likely to be a good parent. He may be easy to anger, but he is intelligent, honest, courageous, completes projects, gallant, and sincere. People born in these years are honest and straightforward. They can be relied on to see things through. They tend to be popular and make lasting friendships and are good neighbors.

The year 2007 is the "Year of the Pig," according to the Chinese zodiac. But it's not an ordinary pig year, which comes every 12 years it is believed to be the "Year of the Golden Pig," which comes every 600 years, according to fortunetellers.

They say babies born in the golden pig year will have comfortable and wealthy lives.
In line with the myth, signs point to a baby boom this year. Obstetrics and gynecology clinics are counseling more about pregnancy and related industries are eagerly promoting baby products.

Those believing the golden pig year say the special year comes every 600 years when calculating its frequency using a combination of the Chinese zodiac and yin and yang theory."

Well, I don't know about a baby boom everywhere but we've got one going on in our family and with our friends. Since the beginning of the Chinese New Year, three of my friends have had babies. My brother and his wife had a baby. Another friend will have her baby this summer. And Husband's brother and his wife will deliver at the end of July. Baby Rex will have good company in his greatness.

Some historians (according to this article) dispute the folklore and say there's no evidence of this phenomenon. But, hello, its folklore. And it's good folklore. Why not hope that this baby and his cousins and friends will live with great fortune and happiness in life?

So now I am rethinking his dump-truck bedding. Maybe I should get some piggies for his room. Or maybe I will leaving a rambling voicemail on my sister's cell phone listing all the things I would like her to buy me. That's what Jack does. He sees something on TV and immediately says, "I want to buy that! I want to call Stina to have her buy that!" She seems to never answer her phone but that doesn't stop him. He'll list everything he's hoping to get in a long-winded barely audible voicemail.

25

The great name debate continues. I promised myself I wasn't going to talk names with anyone and of course ... I am. I took an informal poll with my girls from work and they liked my choice. Husband took an informal poll at his work, and they lean toward his choice. Funny how that works out, eh?

I printed out the top 1,000 names according to the Social Security Administration. It lists each name individually based on spelling. So, for example, there's Fredrick, Frederick, Fred, Freddie, Fredy. These are the legal names that parents give their children. Some are ... interesting. My choice was No. 318. It's a family surname and I was surprised to see it at all. Jack is like No. 14, Jackson in the 40s. Surprisingly, Joseph was like 10.

For as long as I can remember, I have obsessed over people's names. Jack was always my No. 1. This name was always top three. Different middle names but the same first names. I can remember writing lists of names in my diary as a fourth grader. List after list, boys, girls. I think all girls go through a list stage. Favorite TV show, star, boy. It's kind of stupid really. But now I am tempted to dig out my old diary to prove to my two boys that this name has been a top choice for me for decades.

Jack is named after his paternal side. It only makes sense to have this son named after my side.

It's so hard to choose and it's equally hard not to be influenced by people's reactions and suggestions. We had it with Jack and I didn't want to get the same "input" this time around and yet I continuously set myself up for it. Family and friends ask, and then aren't shy to share their reactions. Sometimes, its a nod; sometimes its a facial expression.

Maybe from now on I am just going to say a name that includes a bunch of vowels and an apostrophe. Wouldn't that be nice? An apostrophe would match well with our Irish/Slovak/Austrian background. Paatr'ck?

24

Our boy.
(Click on the image to see it larger.)

23

This is the image I am going to view for the rest of my life. And footballs, and basketballs, and hockey pucks and maybe even soccer balls. I will spend my days on the sideline screaming at refs, wearing huge pins on my coat with pictures of my sons.

That's right, I said sons.

Today we went for our 20 week and ultrasound and saw our boy. Long arms, long legs, my lips and a nice round head. Yup, and a close up to ensure he is indeed a boy.

We are lucky. Everything on the checklist was good. Everything that is supposed to be there was there and everything that wasn't, wasn't. We have a nice, healthy, very active little boy. A friend for Jack and another son who won't call me.

That's just it. He won't. And his older brother has already told me he's not planning on it. And that just ... stinks. My sister and I call my parents every day to touch base. We don't always talk long but we make contact.

My brother calls maybe 2 times a month. Maybe. Now that they have a baby, that may have upgraded to 3 times a month. But he calls so infrequently it's like a holiday for the 'rents when he makes an effort.

My husband never calls his mother. Today he couldn't remember if it had been 2 weeks or longer. My OB said her husband calls his mom 4 times a year if she's lucky. She has 3 sons and said she hears from them when she calls them.

I doubt this baby is going to want to talk to me about the latest Hollywood news, some new drama on TV or a sale at Crate and Barrel. He probably won't talk to me about a new girl he has a crush on or what he should wear on a date. These are not conversations in my future. And I guess I just have to get over that.

My future conversations will be about sports, a really cool bug and dirt. That's what little boys are made of, right?

My whole life I thought I would be a mother of boys. Being a girl is overrated and I didn't want to be a part of the "ugly stage," mean girls and dances that she wasn't asked to ... but now that I have invested all this time and sweat, I want some return. I want to know my hard work now will ensure a friendship in the future. I guess I can hope their future wives are cool. I hope they marry their best friends instead of the ditz that will no doubt chase them. Maybe when they go away to college I will print this out and remind them, their Mama wants to see what's going on... a quick text, a voicemail, an email ... a crumb.

That's not much to ask for, right?

Now the name debate begins. We have ideas but can't agree on anything. Suggestions welcome. We have 20 weeks to name our baby. In 20 weeks I will begin my adventures with my sons. Surreal.

22

Peter Parker

Spider-Man

21

I guess it's been 20 days since I last posted. I was really doing well for a while.

Here are some highlights:

*Halfway through week 19 and can find out the baby's sex Monday if we want ... still up in the air. We have no baby names confirmed at this time. I don't think I am going to tell people anyway when we hammer it out. One name I know it won't be: Anthony. Sorry, Daddy. No way.

*Spent last Saturday in Cleveland for sister's wedding shower. Jack spent the day running around with his uncle-to-be and their mini dog. He loved the dog. He's still talking about it. Then Monday night he insisted on calling "Stina" to tell her what he'd like for his birthday ... the list included Spider-Man items. His birthday is the end of July.

*Went to Midland Sunday to visit with our friends from LA and spent a 80 degree sunny day frying. It was perfect and totally gorgeous. The minor league field was super nice. It was a great day.

*Friends from Boston came in to view campus and may end up attending here in the fall. It would be nice to have a babysitter that I have literally known since the day she was born. Sadly, I once babysat her. Now I am really, really old.

*We have yet to see Baby Freddie. After doctor's orders prevented us from heading to 'Cago for a month, the schedules are not meeting well. Unfortunately, it looks like we won't meet my first-born blood nephew until the end of May ... or maybe his college graduation.

*My hip is actually killing me. I feel like someone is drilling a screw driver (a rusty one) into my leg socket. I guess it's because I am making more room for R2. It's not pleasant and I don't remember it with Jack. Of course, there's been a lot of unpleasantness that I don't remember first time around. I don't know if it's because I was younger or what the deal is but this is hard.

20

Got this shot this morning. Talked to his dad today and he said Freddie continues to be a good eater and when he's hungry, he wants to be fed right away. He gets mad if you take too long.

In other food news, Jack continues to wow and amaze. Last night for dinner he had 10 chicken nuggets, a bowl of cearl, a waffle with all the fixings, chunks of cheddar cheese and juice. At lunch, he had meatloaf, mashed potatoes, green beans, and a roll with butter. And he got seconds! When his teacher told me he had eaten that way I thought he'd eat nothing for dinner. Boy, was I wrong. He must be growing. Of course, when he was Freddie's age, he ate like mad. It must go in stages. No fear of my boy getting chunky, he is a lean machine. And he runs around so much anything he eats literally melts off. Must be nice.

He's getting excited about the Easter Bunny but he was concerned yesterday when he realized we'd be in Cago for the big day. He seemed relieved when I told him the Easter Bunny knew that we'd be at Uncle Fred and Aunt B's house. He's also excited about finding eggs with Uncle Fred. Hope he's up to it.

We plan to take the boy to Shedd's Aquarium. Jack loves fish and I think he'll really like the whales. I am sure B and the baby will need a break from Hurricane Jack.

19

Xander's birthday.

This weekend Jack went to his first birthday party. It was to celebrate his favorite friend at school, Xander. We took him to the store to pick out his gift and drilled into him that the gift was for his friend -- not him. We were scared he would try to open the gift, and take the gift home. Truthfully, we bought him a similar item so he wouldn't feel bad. The party was three and half hours long and included three 3-year-olds and Jack, a 2+ year old. They basically ran and screamed all day. We thought we'd be able to leave him there but he quickly told us not to and to sit in the corner and not interrupt him. (Nice, eh?) I can happily say the gift opening went well. He was excited to play with all the toys but didn't open any. However, when they brought the cake out, he blew out the candles. He was so excited, so geared up, he just blew them out. Honestly, if the tables were turned, I would be mad at the kid who did that. But Xander's mom took it in stride. (We were very embarrassed. I hadn't even thought to prep him on that!)

Just being honest.

Jack is on strike from naps. That's no big deal, nothing new. But he gets a little uptight in the afternoon when he goes napless. Yesterday I picked him up from school to witness him get frustrated with George, the new kid. I knew he didn't really like him. When I asked why he didn't play with George he told me he doesn't have cars. Apparently, George doesn't bring toys to school to play with at free time and instead is grabby with everyone else's toys. And he's whiney.

So, his teacher told me that Jack was giving George a hard time. I was worried. I asked her what she did. She said she pulled him aside and asked him why.

And with all seriousness, he shrugged his shoulder and said, "I just don't like him."

She said she had to laugh because he was being 100 percent honest. She had another teacher ask him what was wrong. Again he said matter-of-factly, "I don't like him."

The teacher took the high road. She told him that she didn't expect him to like everyone but he did need to be respectful of other people. With that he said, "I know, but it's hard."

He's 2. He's busy. He's not going to waste his time with people he doesn't like.

I had really, really hoped he would be more laid back about people, more like his dad.

18

It was a rough sports day for Freddie. First, the Tigers blew Opening Day and then the Buckeyes lost to Florida.

It's his first life lesson. He is cursed with Michigan-based teams. And they will disappoint him for the rest of his life. There will be more sports tears shead. The Tigers, the Lions, the Spartans -- they will let you down little guy. Your only hope for consistent goodness is Ohio State football. And Spartan basketball, er... sort of.

17

Pops just sent this to me while I was publishing 16.





The caption read, "Belly's full."




(In case you didn't know, if you click on the pictures, you get a bigger image.)

16

FWM Day 4

While he gave his parents, grandparents and extended family a bit of a scare, this boy (like his father) now likes to eat. Thank goodness!

Mama, baby and Daddy are doing well. They will be going home tomorrow where Ma is waiting to help out. I wonder if he'll call my parents Ga and Ma?!

BTW, his pops keeps sending me pictures so feel free to stop by for more shots here. (I will have to show him how to set up his own blog!) Jack is finally getting over thinking these pictures are of him when he was "Baby Jack" and is now excited about "Baby Freddie, not Uncle Fred." He says that every time. "It's Baby Freddie, not Uncle Fred" but really, when there's multiples in a family and you are only 2, it may get confusing.

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More pictures of Freddie.
(These are from Ga and Ma's cell phone and Uncle Fred's phone so they're not super. I am sure the proud parents will send out new ones soon.)

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Jack's generation has doubled.

Frederick William Matvias

Born at 11:22 a.m. Central

9 pounds, 7 ounces

21 inches long

Congrats to Aunt B and Uncle Fred!

Jack is so excited to go to Cago and see Cousin Freddie!