Jacky doodle.

Dear Jacky Doodle (as you are commonly called by your littlest brother),

Yesterday I registered Micah for kindergarten. It was hard to believe that it's already been four years since you went to the kindergarten roundup and showed them how adept you were at identifying your colors and shapes, counting to ten, and telling them what town you live in ("The United States of America" you confidently declared). As Micah nervously walked up to the specialist (whom I didn't know) for his evaluation, she said before even looking at the name on his sheet, "Well, aren't you Jack Bailey's little brother!" 

Your academic achievements are macho indeed.

You've been told you look like your dad. 1,382 times.

What an honor to be Jack Bailey's little brother. I almost teared up as I took that moment into my heart. You are a blazer of trails, Jack. I can think of no better person to lead the way for Micah, Nathan, and Astrid. My mom has told me that the position of oldest child is a calling from God. I am really feeling the truth of that lately. You are resilient, forgiving, brave, and bold....

...and a Cougar fan. Once Dad bought you some cotton candy.

Tonight I snapped at you. AC woke up because you had turned the hall light on. This was the second night in a row it has happened, but I hadn't explained to you the connection. In that moment I felt, like I too often do, "you should be able to figure that out on your own. Geez!" You apologized about five times, and I sent you downstairs so I could try and get her calmed down. Then I felt awful. So truly awful.  Being a first child is a calling and a burden. We're learning with you. You're like the first crepe in the batch--we keep making a mess! Having too high expectations of you is one of my major parenting weaknesses, and it hurts my heart (and keeps me awake at night). 

I walked downstairs five minutes later and you apologized again. I apologized to you this time. You said it was okay and then came over to play with my hair while I rested on the couch. I'm endlessly amazed by how quickly you bounce back from disappointments and seek to make others feel better. You know that I love people playing with my hair. You also took it upon yourself to pluck my grays. How kind.

You got an iPod for Christmas. Bam! You started looking like a teenager.

As you grow older I feel both excitement and anxiety. Above all, I want you to be happy. And I know that true happiness comes from following our Savior.  

"I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth." 3 John 1:4 

Really. Who has time for this?

Just this past week I was basking in how much better I'd been feeling. My food healthier. My energy  better. My skin clearer. My mood more, um, stable. Then WHAM! Sick. I haven't felt this bad in years. Thankfully it's a weekend. Poor Allan. I can hear him downstairs doing dishes and playing Geneva Conference to our three warring factions. Wait, make that four. The neighbor kid just showed up.

Because we had at least one person sick every day this week, nothing exciting happened. Except for hair cuts and really great naps. Oh, and AC started crawling. Exciting for her, anxiety-inducing for me.

Oh, AC...we just can't get over you. Thanks for consenting to be a Vandabailey. (Did she actually consent? I'm a little fuzzy on that doctrine....)

I wish I could luxuriate like this mid-day.

Gassy popped. RIP Gassy. You lived a full, rich life for a helium balloon (5 days).

I've been organizing monthly dinners out with some of my gal pals. Last night I was super tired and already losing my voice, but I knew I'd regret not going to get sushi (or in my case, a gigantic bowl of broth). I kept forgetting about my lack of voice, and would try and jump in with an enthusiastic comment and have it come out in a pathetic squeak. Sad. I had so much to say. Oh well. There's always next month.

AC just woke up, and there's one task Allan for sure can't attend to.

Another one down.

Jack at Friday night's Blue and Gold w/his buddy Christian (we call him "Kristchun" because that's how Jack spelled his name in a letter he wrote to him when they were five).

 

 

Considering February is my least favorite month, it sure did go by quickly. Now it's March which brings Daylight Savings Time (Yay!), the beginning of preseason swim training for Jack (Fun!), Kindergarten registration for Micah (Sob!), and hopefully the end of sickness season.

The last day of the month will mean driving out to Utah for a week of spring breaking, General Conference, and Easter with both families. We are so lucky to have both sets of grandparents five minutes apart from each other. My children adore all four of their grandparents and know them so well. This is a blessing I will never take lightly. Family is everything.

Micah is sure going to miss his preschool. His teacher has a gift. Last week was devoted to "creepy crawlies". He brought home a worm condominium on Wednesday and snail hotel on Friday. I finally convinced him that his pets would prefer to live free and in the wild after their weekend of luxury and pampering courtesy of Micah.

He brought home a new pet from a birthday party on Saturday (in addition to an enormous bag of candy). A helium balloon. He drew a face on it and talks to it. He also came up with a rather unfortunate name for this pet: Gassy.

 

Jack had is final basketball tournament on Saturday. Right as it was time to leave, he walked out of his room in uniform. He obviously hadn't put it in the laundry hamper last week because ketchup was smeared all down the front and the shorts looked as if they had been involved in a scuffle with a dirt bike. I blew a gasket. Allan diffused the situation. I spent the rest of the weekend repenting.  

Poor team lost every single game this season. It's okay--He looks dashing in his photo. 

Astrid is creeping into that hard stage where parents start counting down the months until nursery (TEN....sigh...). She is a loud little girl. We hung out in the mother's lounge for a while. Truly a child of her generation, she's getting good at selfies.

 Sunday night was, umm, challenging. AC hasn't been sleeping well at all. She wakes up starving in the middle of the night, and it takes about three rounds of nursing plus a full meal of baby food to satiate her. Because she missed her main nap on Sunday due to church, she was beyond exhausted. It took from 4:30--9:30pm to finally get her to settle down. I was sobbing as Allan said our going to bed prayer (AC was likewise sobbing in the background). As he prayed that she would calm down, I felt a special power in the way he asked for this blessing. I knew our petition would be granted. And it was. Immediately. We didn't hear another peep until 7:30am.


Another tender mercy that reminds me Heavenly Father always knows what I need.

Astrid today. Still tired, but much more chipper.

 

 

I got a call mid-morning from Micah's preschool teacher. Fever. Ugh. Poor kid. At first it wasn't so bad. 

I said "Show me how sick you feel!" Not so sick, apparently

 Then an hour later, I found the Kindle abandoned on my bed, and a very warm and confused Micah in his bed. 

 Allan has been instructed to pick up apple juice on the way home.