I'm starting to feel better, little by little. The stomach thing was intense, but fortunately most noxious things in life are short-lived. No one else got it, really weird. But I'm thankful, don't get me wrong.
Some of the best moments over the past few days were when I was reading to J. There is one book where the baby bear kisses the papa bear, and J always leans over and kiss me. So cute. Then we have been reading "Tails" by Matthew Van Fleet, and he loves the ending, gets all excited when we read "the biggest tale of them all." I love being able to see things in a whole new way through his perspective. I'm drinking up these moments, savoring them.
The layout I did last night is just a standard for the baby book, height and weight. J. really was a good baby, and I already miss him being so little. But, unlike most people who love babies and puppies, I love, love trying to figure him out as a toddler and I will probably be completely enamored with him when he can talk. I was the same way with my dog, he was an insane puppy. I remember crying after 6 months to my husband, "but I just wanted a dog to sit with me." For the past 6 years, my pug has been the perfect lap dog. I like puppies and babies, but I love when they get a little older. You can't interact much with puppies and babies, they are just too crazy, too much internal chaos. I love the loyalty of an older child and dog. I guess I'm odd that way. My better half calls me an "old soul." Maybe he is right.
I'm tracking my package, not long now until the paper motherload arrives. Maybe a day or two. I can't wait!