Jack's Girl

Jack got to meet his newest girlfriend, Kenzie Brice Jacoby, today. Our friends, Bryan and Ann Jacoby, gave birth to a BEAUTIFUL baby girl, yesterday, January 18th. She weighed 5 lbs 2 oz. Jack told me this morning that when I got home from work, he wanted to go check her out in the hospital. You know...state his intentions and all before any other dude got to her. It went something like this:

E: "Hey my little Jackie boy! Do you want to go see your newest girlfriend, Kenzie, tonight after I get home from work?"
J: "Arghggrrrrrrrrr. Ahhhheeeeeeeaarhhhgghhhrrrj!

I took that as a yes. So neat that Bryan and John grew up together. Ann and I were labor nurses at HH Hospital for a year and currently work together at the pediatrician's office. Now...we're raising our babies together! Amazing how the Lord has worked it all out for us that way, huh?

Being back in the hospital brought back some memories of when Jack was born. Some good, some painful (literally). Doesn't he look HUGE with Kenzie next to him? John comments almost on a daily basis that Jack is growing too, too fast. We feel like so much has happened in the 4 1/2 months that he's been here. Summary: He's the coolest.

On to other, more dangerous topics. Scout almost died today for the 3rd time in his life (the 2nd time in the last 2 weeks). You're probably thinking, 'Oh no! He ran out into the street and into a car again!' You're wrong. When I said 'almost died', I meant 'almost was killed'. And I would have been the one who killed him. Today's reason for potential doggie murder was that Scout chewed up Jack's Baby Bjorn. For those of you without children, the Baby Bjorn is the carrier that that moms and dads wear on their chest with the baby in them. They're awesome. You can't grocery shop, visit friends in the hospital (which we do a lot these days with everybody having babies), or vacuum your house without them. I found the evidence tucked away in our living room during my mad rush out the door to visit Ann and Kenzie. He had tried to hide what he had done. So, I proceeded into the "Erin's Post Almost-Slaughter Scout Protocol", which goes like this:

1. Look at Scout really mean, cause that'll definitely show 'em.
2. Say in a raised voice, "Get away from me, you crazy dog!"
3. Leave the house.
4. Call John and confess that I almost killed HIS dog.

So now I have to ask myself, "Was it really his fault, being a dog and all, that he chewed up something that I left in the wide open? No. "Is he going to try and get into bed with John and me tonight?" Probably. "Am I going to let him get into bed with us?" Absolutely.
Tonight I sign out totally in love with my husband, my son, and my almost murdered golden retriever who's lying at my feet as I type.