(First, here is a sneak peak of our professional photo shoot! Thanks to Danielle Bryson and her amazing photography. It's pictures like these that get me through the nights. )
SNEAK PEAK go here
Nestled on top of the landing into our family room is an old Classico pasta sauce jar that is delightfully called our "FOWE" jar. Essentially, it is our version of a swear jar (although, at times it turns into our petty cash receptical, or the babysitter fund account). The money will eventually end up in a college savings account. And we are struggling between wanting it to be filled to the brim (we will need all the help we can get come college time), but who wants to say their child's college savings were based on cussing? (Okay, I KNOW that there is no way we can pay for more than Miles's Sociology 101 book, but you get the gist). I'll lose the respect of many readers if I go into too much detail of jar's name genesis, so I'll just stick to the ground rules. We have delegated certain swear/naughty words as contributors to the FOWE jar; and be warned that house guests are held to the same rules. $1 a word. Slowly we are adding all of the standard swear words to the list, along with a few additional words that are not technically swears, but those foul words that make you throw up a little in your mouth when you hear them.
And now you are thinking, "you two cannot have such rotten tongues!" People, there are times in our house when we do have potty mouth--especially when watching movies or even perhaps in a heated game of Scrabble. This blog is about honesty--and that's just the truth. Yup, I am flawed...hard to believe, I know. And despite my background as an English major, there are times I cannot think of a better word than one of the dirty dozen to express something. (Can I also just take this time to say that just because you are an English major does not mean that a) you are going to be a teacher, or b) you took advanced "vocabulary" in college...thank you). We are good about abstaining in front of Miles, but we are considering jacking up the cost to $2 if anything is said in his presence.
The newest addition to the FOWE is "FiFi." When you have kids, you inherently feel obligated to call them all sorts of crazy names. We had a litany of names for Miles, but are settled on 3 presently:
(Sorry Mom; I know you hate the word "butt." But(t) it will not be a FOWE word any time soon...)
With Felix, we have a host of names so far, many of which are combinations of Miles & Felix:
Help us. Both of us HATE "Fifi," but it somehow slips out of our mouths so easily. It sounds like a dog's name, or a 15 year old tennis player whose family spends $100,000 on yearly country club fees.
So, to curb our use of the nickname, Fifi is now the latest additon to the FOWE jar.
Felix is still struggling with his tummy, and if I were a betting woman, I would say we are looking at Prilosec of Zantac in our future. I'll let you know. But he is filling out quite nicely, and I am convinced beyond the days and nights of struggling, there is a happy baby. He looks less and less like Miles and more and more like a combination of my Mother-in-Law and my Father. I'm not sure what to make of this--especially when breastfeeding. It was far easier to see my husband in Miles's face while he latched on than it is to see my MIL or Father (honesty here, remember?).
Perhaps we'll need to add "Sheri" or "Bob" to the nickname list...
Update #1: we took BOTH kids to the pedi because Miles has had a few days of a 102 degree temperature, and got rash today. I have never seen him this sick--glassy eyed, cranky, and not hubgry. Verdict? Viral illness of some sort. No strep, no ear infection (still never had one!) GREAT. So, we are riding it out. (Why does my son, who never gets sick, decide to get the most sick when we have a newborn?) And yes, Felix is on Zantac. And Eric is sick, too. When it rains it pours, no?
Update #2: Don't let size fool you. I think I am producing butter. Felix is almost EIGHT AND A HALF POUNDS. All night nursing seems to be doing something...