Jim’s New Owner

Today, Patrick bequeathed his beloved stuffed doggie, Jim, to baby Peter.  I found Jim hanging by his neck from Peter’s play gym.  “He can have Jim.  I don’t need him anymore.”  It was a precious moment.  Patrick put the doggie in Peter’s arms, and Peter immediately stuck Jim’s nose in his mouth.  “He’s kissing him!”

Jim has been a constant companion to Patrick for years.  He arrived on the scene when Patrick was about a year old.  Since then, Patrick has cared for him (not that well, mind you), dressed him, put him to bed, fed him, snuggled with him, puked on him, slept with him and loved him.  He smells like a mix between dirt and dried slobber.  When I mentioned that we should probably give Jim a bath because he smelled a little funny, Patrick told me that he smelled wonderful.  Love does smell wonderful.

Peter Poses

He was baptized weeks ago, but I just got around to taking pictures of him in his precious baptismal gown.  It was made by my mother from the leftover pieces of fabric from my wedding gown.  I love it.

 

Actually, there are two of them, almost identical, both made with love and very special to us.  All of the boys have been baptized in one or the other.

Sweet smiles!  Melts my heart!

Little bit of chin drool.  Don’t get it on the gown!

This is a classic Peter look that I don’t ever want to forget.  Those precious eyebrows up expectantly, mouth open like he wants to share some news or he is surprised to see you.  Love him.

Not quite the chubbo that Andrew was, but some precious, squeezable rolls, non the less.  This picture makes me want to slide my hands over his soft belly skin to his back, pick him up and nuzzle him on his soft little shoulders.  He’s just in the other room sleeping, and I could pick him up now if I wanted to.  I know, I’m being ridiculous. 

Babies are so wonderful.

Guffaw!

We got our first good hearty chuckle this morning.  Poor Peter is struggling with a stuffy nose (terrible for a nursing baby!) so the sound was something like a grunt mixed with a snort mixed with a hiccup repeated over and over for a few precious seconds.

I love this kid.  He’s really a good baby.  And he LOVES his brothers.  We’ve often seen whining and fussing end instantly when one of his brothers pays him some attention.  The cutest is at dinner time.  We roll his high chair right up to the table with everyone else.  The tray is a little too big for him sometimes in terms of his distance from the actual table.  *Fuss, fuss, whimper, whimper*  The cure is almost always mom setting him on her lap so that he is RIGHT in the middle of the action.

It’s amazing that he’s so small (three months tomorrow!) but already shows preferences:  his first two fingers over a pacifier, ‘standing’ on his locked legs instead of sitting on someone’s lap, and most especially, being in the middle of the noise and commotion of life with his brothers.  He loves when they come up to his face and talk to him.  He loves when mom plays “ska-doosh” with his feet and fists, ‘knocking out’ his brothers that have come to play.  He does not love his brothers actually holding him.  He stands it for a few seconds then politely requests to be rescued.  Smart kid.

Overheard at school today:  Luke:  “Mom, Jesus spelled backward is ‘sausage’”  Now, that’s funny.  Laugh on, little one!

Overheard

Luke:  “I brushed my teeth the other day.”

 

Mom to Andrew: ”You’re going to preschool next year”

Andrew: “Yay!  I’m so excited!  …  Wait, is there tigers at preschool?”

Mom: “no”

Andrew: “Yay!”

 

We read Charlotte’s Web out loud together recently.  The day we finished the book, I had (rather thoughtlessly) made pulled pork sandwiches for dinner.  Joe only made it worse by announcing to the family: “We’re eating Wilbur!”