Jack's 1st birthday and...

Oh, yeah. Did I forget to mention? We moved to Texas.

We've been here in Dallas for about two weeks now and I can solidly say, without a shadow of doubt... it's hot. Like, STUPID hot. The air conditioning in Kurt's car went out this weekend (having never actually been put to the test before it died of shock) and our response was not, "Oh, well, better get that looked at," but instead, "OH NO! NOOOOO!!!!".

It's hot, yes indeedy. But Kurt's new job, the one we dropped everything for, is great and he's really enjoying it. The kids and I are settling in slowly, a little bit forward, a little bit backward, depending on the day (and the temperature). We joined the YMCA and that's been a great help. They have a splash park as part of the child watch. So while I work out, the girls run around and get soaked. Jack is, big surprise, the darling of the daycare and spends the time being cuddled, passed around to many loving arms and generally deliciously spoiled.

Speaking of whom-- Jack. One. A year gone by.

Crazy.

This time last summer I had no idea, NO IDEA, we'd be celebrating this inaugural birthday in a little rental house in the Lone Star State. I probably would have laughed nervously and looked for a quick exit if anyone had tried to convince me of that possibility. Yet here we are, a year later, and my baby boy is one in Texas.

He's so great. He's such a fun baby. He talks all the time now and has taken to pointing at things and making important sounding pronouncements. We only wish we could hook up to a universal translator and be privy to his wisdom. He started crawling in late May, the day we left for our first Texas house-hunting trip, actually. Now he's a pro with callused knees and a top speed we like to call "Jack, no, stop!".

He's recently started pulling up on things, but his center of gravity is still very wobbly and he mostly gets himself up, locks his knees and gets stuck holding on and leaning forward. Usually Anna comes to his rescue, hugging him around the waist tightly until he  plops down solidly on the floor.

Even at one, though, I feel like Jack is a little more baby-like still than the girls were at this age. I'm sure that has a lot to do with him being my last but there's just something more infant-like, innocence or trust or something, than toddler-like. As soon as he's up and at 'em, ripping around the house, base jumping off furniture and terrorizing the neighbors, I'm sure that feeling will change.

For now, though, Jack is still my little one. He likes to be held, he smiles with his toothy grin (4 on top, 2 on the bottom), his sisters are his favorite source of amusement and he points and crows out happily whenever he sees Kurt after a day at work. Jack Stephen is a darling.

And now he's gonna grow up to be a Cowboy... wait. Isn't there a song about NOT letting your babies do that? Too late now. We're all in a Lone Star state of mind now. (Hahaa. Ok, I'll stop.)

Trying out his new wheels. And check out the jammies, courtesy of Auntie Mo!!