Sometimes I think he gets overshadowed by Emma. Emma, for the most part, has been easier. Jake is a hard kid. He’s always been a hard kid. It was hard getting pregnant with him. It was hard staying pregnant with him. It was hard liberating him from the NICU. He spent the first 8 months of his life alternating between throwing up on me thanks to horrible reflux and screaming at me thanks to horrible colic. He was worth it.
The other day Jake and I stumbled upon a poor field mouse who had the bad luck of walking into a mouse trap I laid out. I don’t like having to put down mouse traps, I understand that the heat index is 108 and even a mouse needs to come in and find some relief from the sun. But they carry disease and try to get into our food and I am sorry, I just won’t have it. But every time I catch one I cry. If that makes me soft heart than Jake is more so than I will ever be. He got down on the ground, 2 or 3 feet from the mouse and cooed at it. “There, there” he said, “it’s okay. You’re okay”. I warned him not to get too close as I walked over to get a bag to deal with it. He assured me he wouldn’t. He just didn’t want it to be alone. He was afraid that it was scared. Even when I told him it was gone he wanted to be with it because no one should be alone.
Outside we have huge wasps. They are called Cicada killers. They are the biggest wasps I have ever laid eyes on! They draw a predator called velvet ants. We used to have 4-5 cicada killers. They used to play with each other and fly around doing loops and dancing with each other in the sky. And sure, they are scary as hell but they are super harmless. Now, thanks to the not so harmless velvet ants, we have one. Jake has adopted it. He calls it part of the family. Again, no one should be alone.
He is a boy who snacks all day. Who plans his next two meals as he is currently eating. He will try anything once and even if he hates it he will politely say, “it’s good”. And when you ask if he really likes it will put his head down and quietly say, “no”. He’s a trooper.
He karate chops the shower curtain before he uses the restroom, just incase there are any ghosts in the tub. He is convinced they are there even though he can’t see them. Everyone knows ghosts are invisible.
He loves his sister. He is the most amazing big brother. This was not always the case, he was not born for this role, but through love and growth he has carved a niche out in Em’s heart that I don’t think can be replaced by anything.
He goes to bed too late and wakes up too early.
He’s a morning person. I have a feeling he will never need coffee, the beautiful morning light and promise of a new day will be enough to invigorate him (*grumble, grumble* annoying morning people *grumble)
He tells the most awful jokes anyone has ever heard. No really, I’m not exaggerating, they are really just terrible.
There is so much to say about him and not enough words or time to explain it all.
Simply, he’s amazing.
This isn’t some post, telling everyone to look at me, look at the wonderful son I have. This post is for me. Because sometimes he exasperates me. He drives me to drink, and I swear he knows just the right buttons to push. He’s stubborn and crafty and so damn smart. Too smart. And when you get on to him he just stands there, like a cliff being bombarded by an angry ocean and when it calms he is still standing there, as strong as ever. And while that can be seen as a beautiful thing it’s also annoying. Sometimes I don’t know how to deal with him. Sometimes I need to try really hard to remember how amazing he is. How special he is. How lucky I am.
But I am lucky. So lucky.