Cousins on Vacation

My camera came out as infrequently as the sun, but at least, like the sun, it came out once in a while. Here are some sweet sweet pictures of Jett and his cousins in the old house on the lake.

I think the raft spent more time on the living room floor than it spent in the lake. It worked out perfectly as a tickling mat.

Jett was very kissy during this vacation.

a jett sandwich

On Our Way Home

We're on our way home from vacation a day early. Why a day early you ask? Let me count the reasons: this was the coldest week our vacation spot saw this summer and the thermometer read two record lows. It rained every day. For 5 minutes the wind blew about 70 miles an hour. It blew over the grill, knocked over a giant willow tree, rolled up part of the shoreline line like a rug and knocked out our electricity for the rest of the week. At least we were vacationing with some of the most fun people Jett is lucky enough to be related to. Pictures coming up in the next post.

On the Train

Jett and I are currently on Amtrak on our way to the Hall family vacation in Michigan. Charlie can't come until later in the week, but Jett and I couldn't wait to get started, so here we are. Jett made a lot of friends on the train as we walked up and down the aisles again and again and again. Now he is sleeping on the empty seat next to me. If the 6 year old on the other side of me would settle down he might even keep sleeping. Fingers crossed - the train is already an hour late.

What We Do...

...when Uncle Nathan is in town:

We check out the largest corn hole tournament in the midwest and toss a few ourselves.
We visit Homer and friends at the Kwik-E-Mart.
We get a little messy.





It was a great weekend!

Lion Hugs

When I get home from work in the evening all I want to do is kneel down so Jett can run in to my arms and receive my hugs and kisses. Usually though, when I walk in the door, he looks up, turns around, and walks the other way. He'll stop and look back, and then keep walking. It's not until I walk over to the sink to wash my hands (washing all the bus germs off) that he finally comes to me. Then when he does, he pulls on my pant legs, whining. I'll take the whining, of course. But after ten hours apart, I wouldn't mind an occasional leap in to my arms, an occasional flurry of kisses, an occasional bear hug.

Look at this lion being reunited with the humans who raised him.This is what I'm talking about.

What He Does Now

When Jett wants to go outside (which is just about every morning when Charlie and I leave for work), he tries to open the closet where we keep the stroller. Then he stands below the hooks where we hang our keys, and then he walks to the front door.

When I sign "bath" he walks to the bathroom, and when I open the door, he walks in and tries to climb in the tub.

And when I ask for a kiss, he puckers up and lays one on me. (If he's in the right mood, of course.)

Fourteen Months

Jett is fourteen months old. He can walk. He can get on and off his rocking horse. He can say "ball". He can pull my shirt up and try to nurse in public.

I thought he would have stopped by now. I hoped he would have stopped by now. But without realizing it, and without planning on it, we've entered that misunderstood world of extended breastfeeding. That world where the nicest people ask me how long I'm planning on breastfeeding my son, and then say, "well, I guess it's ok as long as he's not still doing it when he's two, or three, or fill-in-the-blank-with-whatever-they-think-is-socially-acceptable."

I think they're trying to let me know that even though I'm crazy, I've still got time to make it back to normalville if I get him off of my breast right now.

The thing is, I have no idea how long I'm going to nurse Jett. When he was born my goal was six months. At six months I hoped for twelve months, and at twelve months I expected him to stop nursing, get a driver's license, and drink coffee for breakfast. But here we are, still drinking our favorite breakfast, only now we've got teeth to deal with too.

Maybe you will understand if I put this way. Picture the usual evening. He tries to turn on the oven and I say, "No." He wants to play on the kitchen counter but I say, "No." He wants to play with my cell phone, and I say, "No." He wants to sit in the dishwasher, but I say, "No."

No, no no. Cry, cry, cry. Stomp, stomp, stomp. Grump, grump, grump.

Then he climbs up into my lap, curls in to my arms, and snuggles in. I say yes. Every time, yes.

He's my baby. Yes, yes, yes.

Go! I said go!

In Honor of Ruby

1916 - 2007