twenty nine and thirty weeks

Knox, my sincerest apologies. I thought my performance with Surrey was so low that I couldn't possibly fall into the trap of the failing mom of a second child. But alas, there are fewer pictures of you and later updates. And I can't for the life of my get a grip on when and what and how much real food you should be eating. What I do know, is that these past two weeks you've been ravenous. Grabbing for any food vessel, never relenting during bumbo feed sessions, inhaling your bottle in literally seconds. Am I starving you? Could you stop spitting up so much so I'd feel ok about feeding you more? I'm afraid your little stomach may burst. I hope this all means you won't be a picky eater (cough, Surrey, cough).

In other news, thumbs up on finally transitioning out of the swaddle. You rolled over in the night at your grandparents' house and so we had to go cold turkey. Speaking of rolling - you're doing it bud! Rolling across the floor like a champ - but only to your right. I like that you're keeping a little mystery, not giving it all up in one shot. 

Your talking is most definitely the cutest thing ever. That funny lip face, hysterical. Your sister is starting to get borderline violent with you. I'm sorry. Love how you guys love each other though - smiling ear to ear when you see each other. Thanks for laughing and smiling at her antics. Thanks for putting up with her CONSTANT touching.

an unlikely talent

My husband is a high school math teacher. He wears khakis and dress shirts to work. He has a beard, an earring, and a tattoo. He also - how should I put this - raps.

He's a confusing being, always has been. Those carefree college days when we were dating I never quite knew what version of him I was going to see as I picked him up outside his dorm in my brown Honda Accord. XXL long baggy rap tee and high tops? Or Walmart Birkenstocks and a ribbed v-neck tee. Two very dynamic options, I know.

He owned a size XXXL long black winter coat with a fur hood. Two of my roommates zipped themselves inside. Can't make this up. Tip of the iceberg.

Now back to Jeremiah and this killer rapping talent. In college it was funny and embarrassing (even though I secretly really liked it and it may or may not have been what sealed the deal for me...) because he rewrote Ludacris or Busta Rhymes songs. I've never quite fully owned the whole thing confidently. Because well, we're white. And because rapping isn't an actual thing people seem to respect or want to hear in our typical circles.

The thing is, he's always wanted to do this for life. Like, for real for real. A career. Every time he'd mention it I'd think for a hot second about the chances of that making us any kind of sustainable income or ever actually happening, dismiss it, and kind of sigh/laugh in agreement. I had always thought of it as just a little funny yet gifted hobby. Not real life. But then this man started blowing me away with legit, real, God-given crazy talent.

As the years have gone on (I sound like I'm sixty) Jeremiah has really honed his talent and people have been receptive. I 100% believe in this thing he's got going on. He can write. I mean, yeah he can perform the heck out of a spoken word piece or a rap, but he writes it (and then memorizes it all in the span of like three days which totally stresses me out and causes me to spiral into deep worry). This is rare as far as I'm concerned and it's good. I'm so thankful to Jesus that some people at our church have acknowledged Jeremiah's artistry and taken risks in his favor. Not only for Jeremiah, but for the people.

I hate that the process of him pursuing his dream is so so slow. Oftentimes I go to this place in my head of like, this will never happen, this is worthless. I think, there's no way to snap our fingers and make this happen. I feel like people should give him the time of day but I'm just not convinced they will. Then I think maybe that means we should move on to something else.

But not Jeremiah. He's brave. He presses on. He dares to move towards those things that God has placed within him, regardless of what any other single person thinks - just like how he wore those crazy awful "outfits" in college - and the jorts, omg the jorts until like last year. Just like that he keeps at this talent, maturing it and growing it in faith that the Lord continues to provide it and use it. I would have given up. He's at the whim of everyone else in terms of face time and studio time and opportunity. He perseveres, doesn't give up. And the thing about it is, sometimes I think he has. My impatient, fearful self thinks if he's not knocking down people's doors to get exposure than he must be giving up. Or I think maybe he should give up since we can't see how or when or if this dream will pan out. But boy am I so wrong. Bravery looks like trusting Jesus when you know He's given you something even when the wait is long or uneventful or not guaranteed. Staying on the path, focusing on Jesus.

Jeremiah perseveres through a job I know isn't the dream. He wears khakis and dress shirts while God prepares him for something, I believe, that is better suited for the man He created. It's not the easy way out, it's courageous. It takes a brave person to step slowly, intentionally as God goes before him. It's not brave to rush and panic and doubt and question and not move and give up. 

So cheers to you, my badass tattooed husband rapping like it's your job (fingers crossed!). We can all learn a little bit more about bravery from you. I'm proud of you and continually amazed at what you're capable of when you're in God's will. I knew there was a reason I loved rap in high school - it's always been you.

psst check out his music here http://noisetrade.com/jeremiahlink

pssssst watch his killer performance here at 21:30 http://hopecentral.com/celebration-october-19-2014/

twenty eight weeks

Knox is crying quite loudly and angrily in his crib as I write. This week every single nap, with the exception of two, have gone like this. Screaming and refusing to sleep or settle unless held. Same as last week. My happy, content newborn has turned into quite the high maintenance, clingy infant. Lord, have mercy.

Poor thing is congested with a runny nose - just like his sister. Congested, teething, and overtired is a deadly combination. Don't try it at home, folks.

He's rolling more and more frequently which is quite exciting. He also loves loves loves watching Surrey dance and moves his body ferociously along with her. When this child can move on his own, we're in for it. I'll regret it then, but right now I'm looking forward to him fully sitting alone or moving or doing anything because right now I feel bad just shoving him in apparatus after apparatus or holding him constantly.

I'm off to go relieve him of his misery and put myself in my own misery - strapped to the sofa, productive level zero. Cry it out method does not work in this household. Shame.

twenty seven weeks

Baby boy has his first tooth poking out! And if you're familiar with teething, you know that means misery. He has 100% refused to nap in his crib or anywhere other than someone's arms this week. He's fussier than normal. He is immune to Tylenol. With Surrey, the instant we gave her meds she'd calm down and zonk out. Not this child.

He has yet to roll over again but he's getting so good at sitting up on his own.

According to the measurements taken at his 6 month appointment this week, he's shrinking. He's down in the teen percentiles for height and weight and his head size has dropped 11%. The pediatrician isn't concerned and it's most likely due to squirmy baby and his week of barfing/diarrhea. With all the real food he goes after, I'm sure he'll fatten up in minutes. The kid will for sure be a tank.