Originally uploaded by bgallery

Ah, the salad days. The peak of one’s life. When you can eat with your hands, smear blueberry pancakes on your face, and command the undying adoration of your fellow diners for both. Not to mention the small fan club of animals that have gathered at your feet in the event you decide they are worthy to share your bounty.

But these aren’t your salad days, little man. In fact, if it not for the embarrassing volume of photographic evidence to document this era, you may not remember them at all. But I can tell you, my darling Jude, they are ours. Your father and I watch in awe as you grow by leaps and bounds every day. We exchange smiling glances as you run chattering through house. And I am practically reduced to tears when you wrap your arms around a towering Atticus and say simply “hi”. You have softened me, little man. Who am I kidding? You have completely flattened me. With your smirk, your wrinkled nose, your unrestrained laughter, the way you say “rabbit”, and the feel of your sweet warm arms gripping tightly around my neck. You are my present day nostalgia, a little slice of salad. Every day.

Note the Pulp Fiction reference at the 37 second mark. Ten seconds later you are introduced to the term UFAM, an acronym for United Front Against Mother. Member count is four (myself, Jude-the-Dude, Attitcus, and Creatch) and currently accepting new members.

Experienced parents will be impressed with the fake high strike low move I demonstrate towards the end.

Feel free to leave comments both in the blog and on our photos on Flickr.

Originally uploaded by bgallery
Jude and Atticus get cozy with Dad. More where that came from on Flickr.

Jude will be three months old next week, and is changing almost daily. He slept through the night for the first time on Thursday. He has not only discovered his hands and feet are attached to his body, but that he can actually make them do things. He is reaching, grabbing and rattling. And whatever rattles should naturally be tasted. His ability to process so many new things at once is astounding.

I go back to work tomorrow, and should admit I was a little weepy labeling and packing all of his necessities for childcare. But Ezelda let us stop by this morning so we could reacquaint with the environment before dropping him off for the first time on Monday. We have managed to find the perfect set-up. She is three blocks from our house, only takes eight children, and was a former pre-school teacher is Brazil. She has a dedicated staff of three, story time, music time, trips to the Farmer’s Market, an awesome playground out back, and a rabbit named Sheba. Our largest concern is that Jude may never want to come home.

Every day with Jude is pure joy. He has become a seamless addition to our family. We still go hiking, to the wine country, and out to dinner. Atticus showers him with kisses and stands guard while he’s sleeping. Brent sings the KU fight song to him every day, and watched the original Star Wars with him last night (T-12 months until our house is littered with tiny storm troopers and light sabers).

So life gets incrementally better with every milestone. I want to freeze Jude at every stage, but then I’d miss all of the amazing things just around the corner.