It’s official! The Johnson family is welcoming another sweet baby boy to the mix! I will soon be outnumbered 4:1. This number obviously includes our dog, Newman Rockwell Johnson.

I am faithfully carrying on the Johnson family tradition of having boys. Four-year-old Ava has been the only girl out of eleven boys in the last nine decades on my husbands side of the family.

Henry, our two-year-old, acted like he was excited to have a baby brother when Logan and I sat down to tell him. We talked to him for the 800th time about there being a baby in mommy’s belly and he asked if there was a baby in his pajamas. I think it’s safe to say that he has zero clue what is going on.

Logan and I proceeded to ask him what we should name the baby. Henry said he was busy and needed to go play. So baby boy #2 remains nameless.

Our niece Ava suggested the name George Michael. Catchy, but taken.

I admit that it is difficult to name a child when you have a common last name like Johnson. I like the name Jack Johnson but could never name my child after a musician that makes me want to sing a song titled Banana Pancakes. Don Johnson is also a no-go.

Henry and baby #2 will be three years and a little over one month apart.

I am absolutely overjoyed and scared out of my mind that I am going to have another baby boy on my hands. I cannot wait for Henry to have a best buddy to play with, love, hug, torture and dig large holes in the middle of the freshly planted garden with.

I am the second and last child, and have a sister that is three years older than me. We were the best of friends until she hit middle school. Then we were absolute enemies for about seven years. I remember seeing her in the halls of our high school when she was a senior and I was a freshman. She would completely ignore me, unless she needed something, like a number two pencil to fill in a scantron.

I remember sneaking into her room when she wasn’t home and stealing her clothes. I would dig through her stuff looking for a diary full of juicy secrets. The closest I ever got was intercepting her pager when she left it at home.

When she left for college, things completely changed. We became the best of friends and remain that way to this day. Even though I am in Kentucky and she is located in Atlanta with her husband and two kids, we try to talk daily. I am so grateful we have such a close knit relationship now, because for a long time, I thought I would be forced to pump her gas in the rain for the rest of my life.

Then there is my husband. He has a brother that is also three years older than him. I have heard multiple horror stories from his mom, dad, babysitters, neighbors, sports coaches, anyone that ever knew them as children, of the absolutely terrifying things Logan and Tyler did to each other. They were often described as “all boy.”

Henry has also been described as “all boy.”

I think about the things I say to Henry now and wonder what is going to be like times two.

  • Why does it smell like poop in here?
  • The dog is not a step stool.
  • Don’t jump off of that!
  • Don’t you dare climb up that dresser!
  • How did you manage to flip this chair over?
  • Is that mud or poop?
  • Don’t you eat that!!!! DAMNIT HENRY, TAKE THAT OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!
  • Laying on the floor screaming and kicking your legs won’t get you anything.
  • That is dog food, not people food.
  • You are not allowed to roll down the stairs.
  • COME BACK HERE NOW!
  • DO NOT lay down in that puddle again.
  • Don’t touch that. I SAID DON’T TOUCH THAT!
  • THAT IS NOT A TOY!
  • GIVE THAT BACK TO ME!
  • Please don’t lick the floor.
  • Yes, you have to wear pants.
  • You can only play your trumpet in the playroom. GIVE ME THE DAMN TRUMPET!
  • You can’t say shit, that is a mommy and daddy word.
  • Please don’t sit on my head.

What I didn’t add to that list was the sweet things Henry says to me. He has really been a mamma’s boy lately and I LOVE IT! When he crawls onto the couch with me and tells me he wants to snuggle, it completely melts my mom heart. He usually follows it up with poking me in the eyeball, but you have to take those good moments and really hold onto them tight.

Please say a prayer for me.

 

Until Next Time,

Jamie