I am only 3 weeks away from my projected due date, and here's where things stand.
 If the baby was born today-- we'd have no name picked, no girls clothes, and no diapers bought, BUT we'd have a crib for the very first time, AND at least some idea of what to expect this time around. So I'm not sweating it. I did have that feeling of "nesting" that so many pregnant women talk about for the very first time a couple days ago. And the result was setting up for Christmas. We now have a mantle draped in garland, and an urn filled with red sticks and pine branches. I also play a lot of Christmas music. In the chaos that is my living room, music and Christmas lights temper the anxieties I am feeling at the thought of giving birth a second time. In preparation for the next bundle of lungs and joy, we have introduced Jesse to his "big boy bed". I am not sure why this would matter at all, but it just seems like the next step. That, and we realized two days ago that he can actually get enough momentum to flip himself head first out of his playpen. I was there to see it, and prevent that trip to Emerg. So, the time came to put him in a real bed, and I am already mourning the loss of his playpen. There are serious drawbacks to a 19 month old in a real bed.
Such as, he is no longer contained and I am left to wonder at all the sounds coming from the other side of his door. He can also open doors, and so the next logical step is that he will now come out of bed (quite easily) and chill in the living room, at any hour he feels so inclined. Last nights issue with the big bed was anxiety, which could not be soothed-- and so James spent the night with Jesse's feet pummeling his back because we caved and let him sleep with us. I cannot get my head around the amount of movement that goes on while this kid sleeps. Last night is not one I would like to see repeated. But, peace reigns again while he sleeps, and I blog, and feel new little feet pummel my insides while I try to get comfortable in this recliner chair that makes me uncomfortable. That thing I wrote about 'peace' a moment ago has already been interrupted by the fact that the garbage truck just caught my attention-- or more accurately, the truck that drove past with nothing on my curb to pick up,  and James' voice coming back to me as I dropped him off for school...' make sure you take out the garbage Ree....'  Oops.
At least I remembered to bake. I am participating in a Christmas bake exchange this aft with a few girls, and although my numbers were off, and I made enough for everyone excluding myself, I'm banking on getting way better stuff in return :) Speaking of which, I should be heading there now, and I doubt the towel on the head look is going to cut it, nor James' sweatpants that I've claimed as mine for the duration of the 3rd trimester. Time to put myself together.. and then the living room.

Pioneer Day!

One of my unabashed annual anticipations is Pioneer Day in Jordan Station. I'm not sure why I get such a kick out of the reenactment of life "back in the day", but I suspect it has to do with my long time desire to churn butter and dip candles. In short, BE Laura Ingalls, braids and all. So this is the closest I'll get, and it happens once a year. These two handsome gentlemen, future teacher, future student, are getting a taste of the 1900s classroom. Fantastic.

Outside the old schoohouse.

Jesse wasn't totally on side with making applesauce out of doors.

Jesse and the nephews picking out some gourds to decorate my house.

 Total Harskamp ?  :)

Done with his fries-- and moving on to the next supplier.

Photo Op.

I thought there was room on that hay bale for the clan. At 7 months pregnant, it was ambitious.

The old barn.

Jesse's first proposal. By his cousin. I'm sure this is in keeping with the Pioneer Day spirit.

After Pioneer day, James and I got to work preparing our Thanksgiving Day feast for the Hamilton friends. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, mushrooms, gravy, some beans, fresh bread and apple crisp. Fall has been embraced :) And then Jesse and I went foraging in the ditch to make some centerpieces. I didn't realize this gesture would also usher in a million bugs to join the feast. Ew.

Uncle Brian and Jesse, getting to know each other on a deeper level.

The group, and our home.

So far, a fantastic start to fall. Can't wait for the photo ops that October has to offer. Cheers, and happy early Thanksgiving!

In hindsight, Jesse's first year of life and my first year of motherhood crept along at a turtle's pace. I actually blogged monthly about my son, which means two things: I was aware of each passing month, and I associated those months with the age of my son. I commend my former diligence, realizing today that half a year has passed since Jesse's B.C birthday. I regret this fact.
I regret not continuing to document those 6 post birthday months because I think he has formed into a little person right under my nose, and I have failed to note the subtle changes that have created an altogether new person than the Jesse of 6 months ago. Some of you may be thinking, "Big whoop Ree. It's 6 months". You're probably right. It's not like I'll have this kind of stamina with the rest of my kids some day. But, this is the FIRST, and I think I may use these posts as a reference/guide for this upcoming December, in which case, the colour commentary is both amusing and helpful. Enough justification.
Update time.
My son is a monster. A very adorable, animated, independent, thrill seeking gremlin. Not a week passes when he is not nurturing one, if not multiple types of head wound. Last week this included two fat lips and a mouth full of blood and gravel after taking his toy quad straight off the stairs of the tennis court-- (* and it's worthy to note that this was absolutely premeditated) The morning of this incident he had already sustained his first injury of the day, having conveniently outmaneuvered me only to smoke the corner of the coffee table. Of all days to have an OB visit. I've decided the energy exerted in explaining to people I'm not abusive just isn't worth it.
"Oh, he was on a tricycle, but his feet didn't touch and that slash across his neck is because he scraped it against a metal faucet while he was falling...."
"Oh, he thought he could stand on my mesh hamper on the tile floor... and then he tried jumping..."
"Oh, he just didn't want to let go of his toy,  so he ended up dragging behind it on the concrete. Yes.. that's why he has no skin on his nose..."
" Oh, he just walked off the edge of the retaining wall and landed on a rock. Yes, head first."
" A chair fell on him..."

Not surprsingly, he can now say with clarity the words "Ow" and "Uh Oh", with complete understanding. In the words department, he is doing well. He is definitely in the imitation phase of his young life, and repeats a lot of my phrases. This does not always bode well for me, but I am happy in his progress with syllables.

He has a few self-taught tricks, and although we are curious about their origin, we enjoy the entertainment. For one, he clucks at dogs. Soother in or out, it doesn't matter, the same sound comes out, and it's funny.
He folds his hands for prayer, which doesn't seem that curious, but we never taught him that. What's amusing is that if I forget to pray with him and start spooning food in his mouth, he'll stop me by simply folding his hands and blinking at me.
He kisses the girl in "Ten little fingers and ten little toes". He chooses the book for that very reason and has his lips puckered well before the girl shows up.
He yells 'go' while pumping his arm when he wants something out of his way-- mostly my dog Sam. When I tell him to be nice, he pulls out his soother and gives Sam a kiss.

His morning routine is the real kicker. He's elaborated the thing to the point of excess. 5:45 am he's up and it can't be helped. Trust me, we've tried.  Before he's ready to leave his bed, he will hand me his blanket. Then he bends down and looks around for his second blanket. That safely in my grasp, he will bend down again to find his soother. Not the one in his mouth, but the one he wants to hold  until he gets his sippy cup. Now we are ready for our trip to the fridge. I've tried to cut out this step, but the steps are vital, and if one is altered, Jesse's inner monster emerges, and nobody is ready for that before 6 am. I cave. He hands me both soothers, takes his milk, and points me to the T.V. Not happening. I now win this battle, and he comes back to bed with me and begins to poke James, who is still sleeping. For some reason he has to poke both our noses, like it's a test that we are really his parents. Once that's done, he settles in and sucks back his bottle. This is more or less the beginning of every morning with Jesse.
I'm tired just thinking about it, and realize that I am quite happy that I still have approx. 3 more months until   Jesse meets his new little brother or sister :)

I hope to keep this regular, because I realize I have barely scratched the surface on our past 6 months--having skipped over our 65 hour road trip back home. But that merits a blog of its own :) Until then.

He made it!  Happy birthday my sweet boy :) 

11 months

Our son is officially a toddler. The transition from baby to toddler was subtle--like when you're outside playing ball and then someone flips on the court lights and you realize the afternoon slipped into evening, and holy crap, it's almost dark out.

Jesse is 11 months, and toddling. He took his first official steps on Oma and Opa's anniversary (which made up for us forgetting) moving from the table to the couch. Then he had to get from the couch to the stairs, and a couple toddles later, he basically had the hang of it. I was a little bugged that he never walked to me. As a kid I remember trying desperately to get my brother Matt to walk to me. My mom had the "camcorder" out as I sat there calling, clapping, yelling, and then crying as Matt walked to my pain in the ass brother Dave, who, I should add, could have cared less.

From the moment Jesse discovered he could balance on two legs, he became a crawl snob. He's over the crawl. He adamantly does his walking without help, and beats my hand away if I so much as try to hold his. I would have liked to have been more involved with this milestone, if only to soothe my childhood memories of baby rejection, but I really did nothing to coach him along. On top of full time toddling, Jesse got his first hair cut today. Technically that's not true-- we've trimmed it here and there, to keep the hobo look at bay, but every attempt has failed as he stubbornly muscled us out of it. But not today. I sat him in his highchair, gave him a chew toy (is that what they're called?) and snipped off his entire mullet. An ordeal worth my while. It's bad enough that he's almost a year old and has never worn shoes-- I couldn't just let a mullet happen.

Mulletless, toddling, and saying 'Ma-ma', I have resolved to quit calling Jesse a baby. He also is learning to kiss with his mouth closed, taking my clothes out of the laundry for me, and navigating his chubby butt around the house with my laundry basket, complete with reversing, re-routing, and unloading. Yes. Chores are on the horizon.

So we have moved out of the in-laws house, and have been living in our new home for one week. It was such a blessing to be able to live and learn at the Harskamps, and let them get to know their little grandkid. But, we were feeling a nudge in this direction, and it has been good.

The house is fully furnished and a gift from God, because I'm not sure when we will ever again have the luxury of living in a place without landlords above, below, or beside us , which has been the case of our living situation all of our married life thus far. It's liberating.

We are enjoying it-- the place came baby proofed (done by the preceding renter family) and my job is a whole lot easier. I no longer have to chase Jesse away from stairs or out of cat bowls or out of garbage cans and cupboards. There are no stairs, there is no cat, and the cupboards came with rubber bands.

God has been good to us. We have been praying that things might fall into place, and that those 'things' might fall in order. God listens, and He gives, and we are humbled by this more and more. We have been blessed with steady work, a new vehicle to get to work, and now a house to make home. We've crawled for a time, but now that we are up on our feet-- I marvel at the subtlety of each transition, and the Hand that's lead us here.

Only two to go...

The 10 month mark has hit, and here's where we're at.

What Jesse likes to do:

- play pass

- take his toys out

- put his toys back

- throw his toys down the stairs

- throw himself down the stairs

- place rings on their stand

- place rings on everything

- pull out rolls of toilet paper

- pull plants off the tables

- bang on glass

- climb the stairs

- slide down the stairs- fast

- crawl off the bed

- open cupboards and pull everything out

- crawl into the dishwasher

- stand behind the exercise ball and push it around

- chase the cat

- yell at dogs

- pull the laundry out of the basket

- bite

- give kisses (occasionally)

- eat meat

- wave and blow on his tongue

- crawl everywhere

- dance to any beat

- get chased

- cry at 2 am

- play by himself

- get outside and explore

Aaaaand....WALK! That's right folks. J bear is on the move!

Now, What Jesse doesn't like to do:

- pinch his fingers in the cupboards

- sleep at night

- take a bottle

- cuddle

- acknowledge discipline

That last one is the kicker. I just read that at 10 months, you can start to see a pretty clear personality coming through in your kid. Jesse's current reaction to discipline is laughing. He gets 'no'. He just doesn't listen. I'm curious who he gets this from...

Today I knocked the wind out of myself in a surprising dive at Jesse's ankles as they disappeared over the stairs. A very close call, but in my defense, I had NO idea he was just going to dive after his ball-- he's been getting good at the turn around technique. So, I will resume keeping an ever vigilant watch on my son, especially now that he finds using his knees overrated, and he has taken to the two leg approach.

In other news, James has had 6 straight days of work with a healthy mix of supply teaching and working construction. I got called in yesterday, but was unable to swing a sitter at such late notice and had to turn it down. A bit of a bummer, but until I have a babysitter on call, that's the way it is going to go. Tonight we are going out on our Valentine's day date, and I am definitely looking forward to a night out with James.

Getting a little tired of kid songs, zaboomafoo, and poopy diapers :)

Time to get out and dance.

Up and Out

It's January 21, 2012, and I am no longer sitting in sunny Quito to update my blog. Our three man clan is a little West of home, but home nonetheless. The flight went surprisingly perfect, all things considered (all things being 2 stop overs, a 9 month old, and 19 hours of travel time).
And now here we are, 21 days into the month of January, with a Christmas shindig, a family wedding, and a whole season of Survivor under our belts.

It was sad leaving Quito. We had such an incredible time getting to know the people, the culture, ourselves, and our God. Some of my friends came over the night before we left to throw a party in our honour. It was pretty cool to form such close bonds with people that we had only known for a short 2 1/2 months. They are people with generous hearts, and although a lot of them don't have much, I was spoiled with gifts and food and hugs and a pretty sweet little goodbye party. I miss them.

But being in Vancouver has been good. A little hectic with Christmas and wedding plans nearly colliding, but there has been a nice amount of family time, and it is always a treat seeing James in his natural habitat-- namely, in B.C with Brian. They share a very unique, florbily type of humour, and although Ali and I have our moments of questioning WHO we married, exactly, they make us laugh.

Jesse took a good week to adjust to a host of changes in his little life, and was a bit of a grump butt to everyone. I can understand that a new country, new foods, new faces, new bed and new teeth can be unsettling, but it's been difficult letting him cry it out at night with a house full of people. He'll get there.
James and I were reading up on the 9 month stage, and were pleased to see Jesse developing according to the standards set by a total stranger on the interweb. So, he is figuring out the pincer grip to eat his cheerios, pushing his highchair around the kitchen, climbing up and down stairs, standing unaided for 5-7 seconds, waving hello and goodbye, understanding the word 'no' and experiencing mild stranger anxiety with his Oma :)
The article cautioned parents that now certain things can freak out a baby, like hair dryers etc, so be sure to calm him with a cuddle. I learned that interesting tidbit a little late... my cure for vacuum cleaner freakouts was simply vacuum Jesse until he realized it was fun. And it worked. He now has another toy to add to his repetoire of spatula and turkey baster.

Another bit of good news is that James got his first call to supply teach at his old middle school.
Yay! I'm pretty pumped about it, because James wants to work, and this is a great opportunity for him to try his hand at teaching. It might make for a long day holding down the fort, but I'm getting used to this now, and Jesse IS entertaining. 9 months is a good age.
PLUS my mom and dad are coming out on Wednesday, which is awesome! It took some persuading--we definitely dangled Jesse as bait, but it worked, and their flights are booked.
It will be so good to see them and to show them around this beautiful province. Here's hoping the rain holds off and the sun shines brightly.

We are still unsure about how long we will be here, where we will live, and what we will do, but we are sure God knows, and that is enough.
It is good to be home.