J-Bai.

J-Bai. That's Jack's baseball name. I just came up with it. I was calling him "Bailey," but he hated it, because "it's a girl name, Mom." How silly of me.

(note the wrong kid is standing on base...)

Calling last year's t-ball season a success would have been a stretch. Last year other parents would scream from the sidelines, "Jack, stop talking!!!!" because he was such a distraction the other kids (I'm sure he was putting a real damper on their future star power). Socially, it was a success, and as far as J-Bai is concerned that was all that mattered. He now had Jaden, Aiden, and Caden among his friends (you think I'm joking...).

This year t-ball turned to into coach pitch and something clicked. He started to care a little bit more. But still not enough to keep him from doing a pirouette every time he swung the bat.

This video is from the final inning of the final game. In the first inning he hit the ball but didn't notice mid-pirouette. It took all three coaches, the sidelines, and his teammates yelling at him to get him to run to first. In the second inning he turned serious, and decided that he was no ballet dancer.

Perhaps I'll start this thing up again.

Easter Morning
(Note Jack and Micah's coordinated ensembles. My first attempt. Hopefully I won't take this too far.)


This boy is growing up. Today is his last day of preschool. That makes me really sad. But really happy I have ten weeks of hassle-free mornings. He takes longer to get ready than most teenage girls. It's all the practicing his "Batman karate moves" in the mirror:

Micah turns one next week. I don't want to talk about it:

He's walking now (pictures forthcoming). I do like to talk about that.

Reading, writing, arithmetic. He cares about them all. A lot. I deserve no credit. I didn't really have to try:

They're crazy about each other (except when Legos are involved):

The next time I complain about anything, will someone please smack me over the head? Because I have. no. reason. to. complain. The blessings flow.

Love,
Buffy