I love our family. Addison is fitting in really well (Garrett calls himself the ‘Baby Whisperer’) and Isaiah has adjusted to life as four. Many things have recently changed in our lives, all were good changes regardless of how difficult they have been (even the freakish unexpected ones). Garrett walks around cooing at Addison and smiling. When Isaiah was a newborn we never got to choose to hold him. We just HAD to. His Demon Colic caused him to scream scream scrrrreeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaam if he wasn’t in someone’s arms. So when we could finally put him down (around 3.5 months old) we let him have A LOT of individual play. Addison doesn’t cry much, once we figured out that oversupply breastfeeding thing and the tied tongue, she is happy as a clam. So we hold her, not because we have to, but because we want to. What a different world that is.

With all the changes in our world, we have been discussing the idea of contraception. When Addison first arrived I told Garrett to schedule a vasectomy before he even thought about touching me. He’d say he wanted another one, I’d say no. Then he’d wake up at three in the morning for a feeding. The next morning I would say I wanted another one, and he’d say no. We flipped and flopped and had a pregnancy scare and then decided maybe we needed to talk about what we really wanted, before nature chose for us.

So Garrett, in all his brilliance, came up with this plan (which I like a lot): No contraception. Just breastfeeding. The side effects of contraception on my reproductive history as well as my anxiety are unfavorable. We didn’t want the risks that I would have to take with all my medical history and Garrett wasn’t ready to accept a vasectomy at 24 years of age.

If we do not get pregnant by the time I stop breastfeeding (about two years) then we are going to fix break Garrett’s man-plumbing.  I don’t know if this plan is very in favor of a third, since I had to have fertility treatments to push the Addison Ova out, but I guess we will see.

I think it is the excessive sun I am getting … but I have never been this loosey goosey with life planning. I don’t like the unplanned, unscheduled, unorganized (when it comes to my body). In both instances with Isaiah and Addison I already had their names picked out BEFORE I knew what/who they were. I always knew I’d have two children, some way somehow. So if I get pregnant a third time- I may not even find out the gender. I may let Garrett name it Alexander Magnus Kopter Pilot the 3rd.  I am just feeling that adventurous about life!

So maybe we’ll have a baby or maybe we won’t. Guess we’ll leave it up to nature

LOOK what poor Noelle went through! It was a refreshing laugh after a hard week

Every once in awhile a gal likes to treat her man real nice. So this gal decided to treat her man to a space on the Netflix Queue (because his choices usually include movies like Team America- which is probably the worst film of all time). I decided to slip The Goods: Live Hard, Sale Hard into our next DVD delivery…. We are watching it    .as.I.type.this.sentence.

L-O-V-E means watching DUMB movies like this. I mean, Jeremy Piven would, I am sure, prefer to get mercury poisoning again than admit that he made this film. This is right up there with Glitter (sorry Mariah). So while I sit here trying to distract myself from this movie I post blog posts like this.

I must really love my husband.

Turns out. I do.

I once had a friend who was so in love with this girl that she was with she went to a StarWars convention dressed as an Ewok. I had another friend who took a month of French to say a couple of sentences to an exchange student. I mean, with Garrett, I didn’t convert to another religion or do anything else extreme- but I DO find myself having to watch mind-numbing movies and listening to way more Creed than I would otherwise listen to. But I love him.

So I sigh and stare at him with goo goo eyes as he laughs like a hyena at Ving Raines attempting to resuscitate an already VERY dead acting career.

What do you do for love?

When you have a second child, or during your second pregnancy, if you are like me, you think, “Shazaam! Number two will be a breeze, cause I got this shit on lock DOWN!” Ok, maybe YOU don’t say ‘lock down’ but if you did, you’d be as awesome as me! I digress.

If you welcome the second child with the admonition, “welcome, jewel of a baby, for I know all the secrets to motherhood and you don’t frighten me…” you’ll be wrong. I was wrong. I was SO wrong.

Every baby is different (as well as every pregnancy). And pride? It cometh before the FALL. That fall is the one where you burst into tears crying, “what did I eat that is making her scream in pain!!!!!!”

Addison is tongue tied. Not only do I not know how to deal with this medical issue, but I have never ever HEARD of it. Turns out it is more than an expression. Tongue tied babies have a very hard time latching and all that jazz. So now I have to figure out what to do about her tongue. I could get it clipped (OUCHIES!) or suffer through her poor latching, air sucking breastfeeding… In spite of her poor tongue, Addison is doing well. She is gaining weight and nursing like a champ- she just sucks a bunch of air and then farts like a man (a very large man that has eaten too many bean burritos) and occasionally screams because her poor belly is full of air.

So I don’t know if I should  get her frenulum clipped….

Does anyone have any experience with this?

I had no idea that so many things could happen to a woman’s underparts! I arrived home and promptly sat in my Midwife Herbal Bath. For all who don’t know: the Herbal Bath is a concoction of several herbs, sea salt, and Garlic. Soaking in it after a vaginal delivery expedites healing and is soothing. What they don’t tell you is all that salt and Garlic leave you smelling like a piece of Garlic toast…. and with a sagging belly, well, that just ain’t sexy!

I have wrestled with the idea of what to say concerning the birth of Addison. It was the most ideal experience I could have hoped for. And still, everyone is asking, “Did you get an epidural?” “Did you do it naturally?” A big part of me feels like I owe people a story, since I bitched about all of it so openly on the blog…. the other part of me wants to hold on to the beautiful experience I had and not have it tainted by people’s judgments (because OH! DO THEY JUDGE!).

I think the better questions for people to ask me are: “Jasmine, was it what you wanted?” “Did you feel supported?” “Is Addison here and healthy?” Yes to all of the above!  Garrett was a super labor coach, Sadie was great comedic relief, and I pushed that baby out in two pushes like Zena the Warrior Princess! I am so elated with what I went through. It was lovely. The UTI that followed was NOT lovely. I have never had a urinary tract infection. I would rather give birth to all of the Dugger’s children than experience that again. Um. I am not lying! I would eagerly pop out all of those little Duggers than ever have razor blades come out of my pee hole again! Thank the Lord for Cranberry and Antibiotics. MERCY!

When we are a little farther away from the birth….and I feel less of a need to hold on to this sparkly happiness of a memory, I will recapitulate what I experienced. For now I am still all squishy over what happened. IF it is any indication, half way through Sadie and Garrett and I LAUGHING through one of my contractions Garrett looked at me and said, “Dude! This birth stuff is awesome, we should have another one…” Then a couple of days later he was looking at me with creepy Precious Moments dough eyes and said, “Aw babe! I miss your pregnant belly.” I mean, the experience was awesome, the pregnancy was a breeze… but keep your evil parasite producing penis away from me sir! There will be none of that!

Hope everyone is well. We are all covered in breast milk and happiness around here <3

Isaiah is half naked with a broom in his hand. The warm weather we had this weekend revived all the flies in Siloam Springs and they are currently living in my front room. Isaiah responded to this by taking off his pants and diaper and grabbing a broom to destroy them…. he gets that from his father.

My son is a wonderment. I see so much graciousness in him, more so than what Garrett and I have. When I see things that I know I couldn’t have possibly done, but they are so good and wonderful that someone has to take credit, I usually just blame it on God. I think Isaiah is who he is because of God. I haven’t completely worked out that line of reasoning, but I know he is so pure and good that I couldn’t take credit for that.

Yesterday Isaiah was baptized. It took less than five minuets but, I am certain, changed my life forever. For our family, Isaiah’s baptism was a recognition of his membership into the church and the acknowledgement that God redeems us to Himself even before we can acknowledge it through faith. Something about that baptism flipped a switch and reminded me that, “WHOA! This is a human life!” His soul has assigned value in Creation, he is a member in the Kingdom of God, he matters, and I am in charge of his care. THAT was a bit overwhelming. I can say, though, I am thankful that I was given this child, and this assignment, but it isn’t to be completed alone. I have Garrett. Garrett is BEYOND awesome as a father and friend. We also have our community. Our church. Our friends. All these people who are willing to link arms with us and help guide Isaiah, in love, toward a life that is his to live…

Stupid tears

This weekend reminded me, in SO many ways, to hold fast to those who are willing to not take the easy way out. Hold fast to those who will confront the hard stuff with you. Hold fast to those who will affirm that there is good in your despite your shortcomings. Hold fast to the piece of innocence in all of us….

It is that mix of dirt and deity. That innocence and love that shows on my son’s face (even when he half naked annihilating flies).

Happy Monday Y’all.

Where have I been?! Lordy! When you actually have a child that is cognizant enough to realize that holidays are actually happening… you have to figure out what traditions you’ll actually keep and what ones you’ll actually pass on… we are still working on that.This is a hard choice for me (since my DNA looks like a meeting at the United Nations).

Isaiah survived. He came out pretty well actually. The Guppy and PopPop (my in-laws) managed to find and purchase the one toy that would induce panic in the lives of my dogs. Noelle and Zoe now run from Isaiah as he screams at them from his Hot Wheels Jeep.

Because what an amped up toddler needs is a motorized something to run into mommy as she attempts to keep balance. Let me tell you, there is nothing better than being 29 weeks pregnant and getting rammed in the back of  the knee by a tiny hard-plastic Jeep. It is awesome beyond awesome. So awesome that I tend to call out the name of the Lord after each lovely encounter (I have been informed that God’s last name doesn’t start with a “D”).

Holidays make me miss my brother (who passed away in 2006) and very nostalgic. With Addsion’s arrival on the horizon I find my mind meandering back to days when Isaiah was tiny (and not  accosting me with Chinese made toys, THANKS A LOT CHINA!!!). For your viewing pleasure: My little bambino with his daddy, during his first snow (he was about 6 months old!):

 Hope your Holidays were filled with peace, joy, great memories, and (most of all) LOVE!

It isn’t me who has been encouraging Isaiah to pee in the sink…because at least, then, he isn’t peeing on the carpet!

My OB tends to think I am hilarious. Actually, most of my friends think I am pretty funny, too. What isn’t funny is being so damn hairy. Now that I think of it, maybe that is why they laugh at me….. it BETTER not be!

The other day, at our routine checkup, the amazing Dr. Crownover asked me how I was feeling. A blush came over my face and I started to explain:

Jasmine: Dr. Crownover, before you see my belly I have a confession to make…

*Dr. Crownover gave a very medical, yet attentive look…*

Jasmine: So…. as my belly has gotten bigger I have become increasingly insecure about how hairy my belly is. In a moment of weakness I decided I would wax my belly.

*Dr. Crownover’s attentive look melts away and he doubles over in laughter*

Jasmine: Seriously! Don’t laugh. I got into the first strip, and I thought, “Who the hell’s idea was this! But then I was already in over my head and I had to finish it… now it is growing back, and I am all itchy. GAW! What is wrong with me!!!!”

*Garrett interjects*

Garrett: I told her not to be insecure about it. I told her that her body was normal.

Jasmine: Shut up Garrett! You don’t get an opinion! You shaved your face into a trucker “stash” …. people who look like that don’t get opinions on what is normal.

*Side note: Days before Garrett shaved his beard into a handlebar mustache and decided that he loved the trucker look. I laughed at him every time I looked at him. THEN he thought it was an awesome idea to wear it to my appointment. Because, ya know, that look is cool? What! No! It isn’t cool. All he needed was a cut- off flannel shirt and an “I love mom” tattoo… geez!

Dr. Crownover: OH! I didn’t even notice your mustache Garrett, I like it… I like it *Up until this point I believed my OB was a great honest man, now I believe he is a filthy filthy liar!*

My belly itches like an S.O.B and the little red bumps from my shirt rubbing the hair that is growing in is not very pretty… it is actually worse than being hairy. Because now I am hairy/bumpy/red. A dead sexy combination.

*Fast forward to today*

After a vigorous step aerobic workout Sadie and I decided to go to lunch. We talk about a plethora of things. Sadie is smart. She is a real brain. But today, she looked at me with all seriousness, she, “When we get closer to having the babies we should go get our nails done, and then make someone wax our lady parts so we will look all nice for the delivery…”

I evaded the remark. I was having flashbacks of a couple of weeks earlier where I got that dumbass bright idea to wax my belly. I don’t think Sadie and I can be friends if she starts suggesting things like this. Next she will ask me about anal bleaching….

Apparently all you need is a highball glass and a black maid to impress my husband;

Garrett: I think I miss the era of the 50’s and 60’s.

Jasmine: Why? You wouldn’t be able to legally marry me!

Garrett: No just the way they dressed… I watched Mad Men last night.

 I guess I need to NOT let him watch shows or movies later than the 60’s. Next he is gonna want me to call him “Mista”  or “Boss” while bringing him a Mint Julep *YUM* and commanding  me to mop the porch in my Mammy outfit. Garrett and I are not only from intensely different families, we e are different cultures and races that are light years apart. Garrett is a beautiful, kind, and open-minded man… he just…haa a vivid imagination. Movies and TV shows and books, sometimes, get him a little carried away.

(After watching Crooklyn, the movie)

Garrett: Did you ever live on a stoop?

Jasmine: I did grow up in the hood… but I am from OKLAHOMA not BROOKLYN.

Garrett: Well I was just wondering. Sounds like “stoop life” would be fun…

Jasmine: Yeah, I mean, since Brooklyn is the natural habitat of the black person? What the hell Garrett!

(When Isaiah, our son, was born)

Garrett: He has such smooth hair! Will this stuff fall out and then the nappy lamb’s wool stuff grow underneath.

Jasmine: NO Garrett! Jesus! He is PART African American… and “nappy” is a rude word!

Garrett: Well I know it is… but I am talking to my WIFE, and you knew what I meant. I would never say that to someone else.

Jasmine: Uhh yeah, because it is rude.

Garrrett: No, because they would probably have a knife or a gun!

Jasmine:…… I can’t even believe you.

(later)

Jasmine: Children who are biracial usually have smoother hair, but it isn’t a guarantee. White people have different textures of hair also, you know.

Garrett: I guess our different textures just aren’t as noticeable. So I am gonna have to learn how to “grease” his hair?

Jasmine: Yes. And if we ever have a daughter, you’ll have to learn how to braid too.

Garrett: I will leave that up to you, ya’ll are naturally good at corn rows.

Jasmine: WHAT! It isn’t a genetic disposition!

Garrett: Nooooo I was just saying that African Americans all grew up braiding and beading each other’s hair.

Jasmine: *Blank stare*

(After seeing an ethnic hair commercial)

Garrett: Can we Afro Isaiah’s hair! Oh my God! PLEASE! Can we!

Jasmine: Afros are only worn because our hair is so hard to manage. They aren’t REALLY fashion statements anymore! Afros, I think, are only cool to white people….

Garrett: OR we could totally cut his hair short and then cut lines into the back, like Chris Brown or Kanye West!

Jasmine: He is a two year old… he isn’t a performer. I swear! Next you are gonna request him a Gherri Curl!.

Garrett: Why do you ruin all my fun?

Jasmine: Because your fun is stupid- and stereotypical.

(Upon meeting my friend MiMi, who was born in Africa)

Garrett: So do you speak the African clicking language?

MiMi: *Blank Stare*

Garrett: No seriously, you know what I am talking about right? The one where they click to talk *imitates clicking noises*

MiMi: Jasmine! WHAT is he talking about I went to a private school…. WHAT is he talking about?

Jasmine: I guess he assumes everyone from Africa lives in a hut, just ignore him.

Garrett: OH MY GOD YA’LL are RUDE. It is not like that was even a weird question to ask someone from Africa!