But no, because it was me who was responsible for this other human. One who's hobbies include crying and making my life miserable, With a few laughs tossed in to ensure his survival. I loved him, but I resented him.
There...I said it.
Easy to say now that he's a 16th month old sweetheart who I'm in LOVE with. I love him, I love him, I love him. And I like him, which is a breakthrough. Sure, he sucks at sleeping...but I care so much less now because I love him so much. Here's my favorite memory of Jackson, which I'm afraid won't translate to words, but I'll take that risk since the alternative might be a lost memory.
Jackson has refused to be weaned but we're at a great place where he breastfeeds at night before bedtime, but he's less "attached" than he used to be. And I finally feel like it is an option, not a requirement from his mom. I could cut him off at any point and Jackson wouldn't hate me forever.
Take one hand and pretend you're milking a cow and there you have the universal sign for "milk." So Jackson knows "milk." Which leads me to my favorite Jackson moment. As our normal night routine, I've nursed Jackson in his dark nursery, and I'm rocking him a few minutes before I put him into is crib. He starts giving me the "milk" sign, and I shake my head with an exaggerated "no"! "You just got milk." So he's good for a few seconds, then gives me the milk sign again." I say no and he gets the case of the giggles. More milk signs, more nos, more giggles.
That seems to be our thing now. He'll give me the sign, I'll shake my head no, and we'll share a laugh. Nobody else gets it, just us. It's our thing. Brady and I have lots of "things." Jokes between us that are easy and silly. It's nice to have that with Jackson.
And example of what a difference a year can make:
I felt slightly resentful a year ago when I was "required" to put Jackson down to bed, due to the fact that I had boobs. Breezy Brady was Eric's responsibility. Jackson was exhausting, Brady was fun.
Oh, how the tide has turned.
Bedtime is usually not terrible, but each morning, if I have the choice of clothing Jackson, who just took a huge poop in his diaper, and a very clean Brady...Jackson wins 10 out of 10 times. This makes sense to very few people who actually have boys, but 92% of Brady's tantrums have to do with his clothes. This morning, he wanted to wear his football jersey. For whatever reason (probably b/c he wore it yesterday), Eric told Brady he couldn't wear it. When he had a meltdown, Eric didn't want to reward him by giving in to his craziness. But geez, that makes for an ugly morning.
He peed his bed this afternoon during naptime. Sure, its a pain to have to clean and change the sheets, but my feeling of dread stemmed from the fact that we'd have to come to agreement on another outfit. And when it come to outfits, underwear counts and socks are SUPER important. The apple doesn't fall far.
But this isn't mean to be a Brady-knocking blog, but rather a Jackson-building one. While his sleep still sucks, he's generally lovely during the day. This picture sums things up. Both boys go to sleep around the same time in the afternoon. Jackson always wakes before Brady. I lift Jackson out of his crib, try to relish a few moments in the chair with him, but he quicky wriggles out. He walks out of his room and I usually stay for a few minutes in his room, messing around on my phone or reading my book. After a few minutes of silence, I go check things out, but its always the same. Jackson is reading a book in Brady's room. Sometimes he's on the floor, sometimes he climbs in the bed next to his sleeping brother. It is always cute. This picture below might be my favorite portrayal of an un-posed, authentic moment with the brothers.
And the title of the book he is reading? "I'm a Big Brother." If I wasn't so tired, I'd get weepy right now.
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