Things I didn't know...

I have been around children my entire life. Every job I've ever had has, in some way, involved children. Prior to having one of my own, I'd like to think that I was pretty baby savvy. However, after I had The Shoog, it turned out that there were LOTS of things I didn't know or expect when that sweet, yummy smelling baby was placed in my arms.
(Excuse the pics. Most were taken with my phone.)

Taking apart/"fixing"/reassembling technology is a universal boy desire.


Football comes fairly primitively as well (Thank you Lord!)


When I imagined breastfeeding a baby, my visions were those of chubby baby hands cupping my face, grinning up at me as he drank greedily. Not. So. Much. In reality, he couldn't have been more distracted. If that milk was coming from a dog's butt he wouldn't have cared, as long as the milk was coming. The "cupping of the face" was more like digging in my nose or trying to pull my eyelashes out. No joke. This was taken in the hospital. I was laid up for almost a week with complications following my thyroidectomy. It was definitely my breastfeeding low point. Ugh. I dreaded feeding him in that hospital, but clearly, it did not bother my boy.


Wade had never been around kids and, while I didn't think he'd be bad, I was not prepared for the awesomeness that was about to unfold between that man and his boy. He adores the child. I have never seen such patience, awe, and pride seep from the pores of one man. This pic was of Wade on July 4th. It was the first time Ev spent the weekend away from us. We had a party at a friend's house and Wade found the lone kid to play with. Even when he had a break, he opted out. Yep, that's someone else's pride and joy.

Now, this here is our pride and joy. Have you ever seen such pride in the face of a Dad?! Not only that but he still loved our boy even while he was sporting an Ole Miss polo. That, coming from an LSU alum Dad, is love if I ever saw it.


The wall always wins.


Grandparents are quite fond of their "second generation babies." Grandbabies can inspire you to fight like you've never fought, to live fully without a complaint, and to cherish every single extra minute you have. Grandbabies can force you to get out of bed, even when in a chemo-induced hangover, and laugh like there's nothing wrong. Grandbabies, I've been told, can inspire you to look terminal cancer in the face and tell it, "Kiss off. You've messed with the wrong Granna."