Happy summer to you and Happy birthday to my husband

He's forgiven

He's so cute in these pictures, it's easy to forget that the reason we were on the changing table at that moment was because he had just pooped through his outfit. And through mine. Lil' stinker.

Scene stealer

So the other morning I was talking to my Mom on the phone and telling her all about everything that was new and exciting in our house, like the fact that Luke slept for five straight hours the night before, Taylor went a whole day wearing the same pair of big girl undies and that now that our air conditioning is fixed I got all crazy and blew my hair dry for the first time in three weeks. You know, real groundbreaking stuff going on here. Just in case you were wondering why I have been a bit remiss with the regular posts.

And after updating her with all our recent achievements, she began begging for new pictures of her grandson. And I was all, Hey, I would LOVE to get some cute pictures of my growing boy, but there’s one little glitch with that happening. And that glitch happens to be your other grandchild, Princess Taylor. The camera-hog.

Seriously, y’all. I tried for about two hours the other day to get a few solo-shots of Luke, and she wouldn’t have one second of it. I mean, she was fine with Luke getting his picture taken. But she needed to be in it too. And since it’s hard for me to play defense AND take the picture, this was best shot I could get:

Can you see the fear in my boy’s eyes? Get used to it, Buddy. It’s the Taylor Show around these parts.

And it’s not like I can really blame her. For the past three years she has been the focus of my lens, so it’s a delicate situation to begin with. And instead of scolding her or freaking out, because THAT makes for a super happy photo environment, I’m just going to have to get creative. So, for the time being, most pictures of Luke will be taken during Taylor’s naptime or while he is in a safe, confined space where he out of the Princesses's reach.

She’d be the most popular kid in her preschool class

The conversation Taylor and I had this morning after she came into the room while I was pumping...

T: Hey, Mom. Whatcha doing?

M: I’m pumping some milk for Luke.

T: Why?

M: Just so we have some if he ever gets hungry and I’m not with him.

(I continue to pump while sitting in the glider, and she comes and sits on the ottoman and is clearly fascinated by the whole process.)

T: Wow. That’s sure a lot of milk, Mom.

M: Yep. Hey! Why don’t you keep watching your cartoonie? Is that Little Einsteins? My favorite is Annie. How about you?

T: Mom. That’s a lot of milk. When is Yukey gonna get that milk?

M: Well, maybe you can help give him this milk in a bottle soon. Does that sound fun?

T: No. I’m gonna put apple juice in my boobie so I can get it out and give him apple juice instead.

Through Libba's lens

I know these are a few weeks dated, but I am absolutely obsessed with them. And I cannot express enough how fortunate I am to have such an insanely talented sister. And how happy I am that we will never have to endure the torture of the Sears photo studio.

One month old

Luke turns one month old today. And I don’t know if it’s the sleep deprivation or the steady stream of out-of-town guests we’ve had since he was born, but it just doesn’t seem possible that a whole month has already gone by. And while part of my heart is lamenting that he’s already growing and getting older, part of me rejoicing that we survived our first month parenting two kiddos. And the other part of me is in the kitchen, funneling coffee down my throat. But, HEY!, I can sleep next year, right?

Just look at that adorable little man... Who in their right mind would trade taking a nap for an extra twenty minutes of trying to stick those cheeks in their mouth? I make some seriously smoochable babies.

And apparently I also make seriously HUGE babies as well. Luke is already filling out his three-month clothes and in size 1-2 diapers. At his two-week check-up he was just shy of ten pounds, and had already lengthened almost an inch and a half since he was born. And that was two weeks ago. He is literally growing right in front of our eyes. Which makes me wonder if he’s genetically predisposed to being a giant, or if I should start marketing my breastmilk as weight-gainer to GNC.

So while he’s most likely going to be a fantastically chubby infant like his big sister was, Luke also makes the same squeaky, animal-like noises when he sleeps like newborn-Taylor did. And because the bassinette is right next to our bed, there have been a number of occasions where I woken up feeling like our house had been inhabited by elephants or wild pigs. And he is also a pretty loud eater, and shrieks in delight the minute he starts feasting.

One thing that he loves that Taylor hated is being swaddled. And while his sister would kick herself free of the blanket right after escaping my womb, Luke adores being wrapped up tight like a burrito, which I’m sure feels familiar to him after being so cramped in my belly for nine months.

He’s also getting more and more alert with each passing day, and I love propping him up on my knees, staring into his big, blue eyes and watching him try to focus on my face and things around him. He definitely recognizes my voice, and will turn his head to follow other familiar sounds, like his sister. And for as rough as Taylor is with him, he never seems to mind. She’ll practically lay on top of him and kiss him all over his face, and he just lets her do her thing without so much as a peep, sometimes with even a slight smile on his face. Sometimes he’ll hear her coming and try to shield his face with this tiny hands, but he never screams or cries when she gets too aggressive. He loves her already. And I can only hope that she’ll be as tolerant with him when he gets a little bigger and starts climbing all over her and poking her in the face. Yeah, right. I can hear her squeals already, Leave me alone, YUKEY!

So Luke’s first month is already in the record books, and I’m just hoping that he stays such a chill little dude for a while longer as we work out the kinks and settle into a routine. I know that at some point he is going to wake up and start being a rough-and-tumble little boy, and I can’t wait for that. But for now, I am savoring my time with him while he is such a snuggly peanut, tucking his little head into the crook of my neck while wrapping my arms around him. I didn’t know how much I had missed having a baby in the house until having his soft, sweet-smelling skin pressed against me. It’s intoxicating. And I am loving every second of it. And having him nuzzled up next to me makes my heart a million times happier than doing something as trivial as sleeping. This is way too important to miss.

Luke... You look a lot like your father

So it’s no big eye-opener that Taylor is a spitting image of me. She’s got my coloring, my eyes, my long legs and my round, chubby cheeks. Poor thing also inherited my booty. And every time I watch her reach around to de-wedgie herself, I cringe for her. Because she’s gonna be picking underwear out of her rear end for the rest of her life. Sorry, Honey.

And before we knew Luke was a Luke and not a Maggie, Chris and I would sit back and try to picture what kind of baby was growing in my belly, and what similarities and differences it would have with big sister Taylor. It was hard for us to imagine having a girl that would look any different then a little mini-Me, but if we were having a boy, I predicted that he would end up looking a lot like Chris. Which would be a major score, because my husband’s a pretty attractive guy, and I’ve seen pictures of him as an itty-bitty, and he was adorable. Except for the phase when he was in middle school where he had braces, glasses and a mullet. And I only bring this up to demonstrate that good looking people go through awkward phases too. And because it’s funny to think of my clean-cut hubba sporting a business-in-the-front-party-in-the-back haircut.

So when Chris’s parents came to visit after Luke was born and kept remarking about how much he looked like Chris as a baby, I was thrilled. Because to me he just looked like a perfect little person. But after comparing pictures, the similarities between baby-Chris and my son are pretty remarkable:

And when I mentioned the resemblance to my Granddaddy over the phone, he just snorted and said, It just doesn’t make any sense when people say a baby looks like the mother or father at this point. It just looks like a baby. And I agreed, but after comparing the above pictures, I still believe that Luke will grow up and follow in his father’s handsome-footsteps. And hopefully also inherit his golf skills, sarcastic sense of humor and ability to do long division in his head. But NOT the mullet. I’ll make sure of that.