He, my friends, is the subject of this post.
He’s a lady killer.
His name is Jak. For those of you that don’t know, I’m not continually misspelling his name. He is named after Josh. Joshua Andrew Kines, Jr. and his initials are JAK. So instead of having “Little Josh”, we have Jak, misspelled. And there you have it.
He will charm your face off. He has weapons of mass persuasion. They include, but are not limited to, the big baby blues, the long eye lashes, the Beiber Fever, “Frat-tastic” blonde hair and, did I mention the dimples? I’m toast. Really.
I have been thinking for the last nine months that this would be my easiest transition with a new baby (so far). I have had an infant. I’ve had an infant and a two year old. I’ve had an infant and a two year old and a four year old and now I have an infant, a two year old, a four year old and a six year old. And the two oldest are girls. How hard could it be?
It depends on the two year old.
This two year old is a wild card and I was not prepared. This is the first time I feel like I have two babies. This is the first time I’ve had two in diapers and two in cribs. It’s not because he’s younger than the others were when the baby came. He’s just that much more immature than the girls were. Not only that, but he’s bad. Real bad. I should just say undisciplined because it’s my fault. Josh kept telling me while I was pregnant that if I didn’t get him under control before the baby came, I would regret it. We’ve had to implement a boot camp over the past week. I think we’re making progress.
Unfortunately, his baby brother seems to have the same effect on me. I’m really toast. What is it about those boys?
Mothering has been the single most sanctifying process of my life. Marriage is a close second. Can I get a witness? It has revealed the sin in my heart. It has required me to run to Him when I am met with my inadequacies. Which is often. Daily. It has caused me to ask forgiveness like there’s no tomorrow. From the Lord. From my husband. From my children. It has caused me to seek Him desperately because I don’t want to mess this up. It’s the most important role of my life. There’s no do over, but there is grace. With every baby I find myself more in need of Him. More dependent on Him. I also find His grace sufficient.
I didn’t intend for this post to end on a serious note. I guess it’s just where I am. In the pruning process again. Always. Sanctification hurts, but it’s good.
Sleep deprivation also hurts. But coffee is good. My life in a nutshell. As. We. Speak.