What lengths will I go to for a visit with Jackson? You won't believe it. I don't even believe it. But I'm willing to cook.
There, I've said it. It's a miracle. Saturday night after 8pm I arrived with homemade vegetable soup & crackers, homemade chicken casserole & way too much rice, a lemon pie, and Chex party mix...trying to cover all my bases. They didn't run me off. Instead she woke up the baby and brought him out for me to play with, which I did with a huge beaming smile on my face the entire time.
How many diapers did I change? 4
How many times did I change his clothes? 3
Do I know how to put on those tiny little diapers? Clearly not.
I'm holding him, telling him how fabulous he is, and I feel this warm, wet spot on my leg. It's not his fault I'm a moron. My daughter-in-law thinks I was playing dolls, changing him into all these little gowns, but I swear, they were wet.
The only time he fretted was when I tried pulling this little rubber ducky gown over his head. I bought it and thought it was too sweet for words right up until that moment. So I fished around in the drawer and found lots of them with little snaps diagonally down from his chin to his arm. Ask me if I know what I'm shopping for next time and the answer will be yes!!
Is it just me or does his fuzzy little head look like he might have my red hair?