This morning I took Djai in bed to snuggle after we woke and Ben was sleeping with his back turned toward us. The little guy turned toward his daddy and started smacking and rubbing his back exclaiming. “Dadadadada! Dadadadadada! Dadadad! Dadadad!”
Last night officially marked the first full night of sleep without one nightime waking for a bottle. He slept from 6pm to 7am! I’ve received my reward! (And so has he.)
We’ve recieved this question twice and I expect that it will come much
more than that so here it is:
What is Djai?
Johnathan Isaac Cecka.
His first two initials are J.I. He was only one day old when our neighbor friend Andrew said “Hmm… how about Ji,” and pronounced it as one word, not the initials J.I. I was talking to my friend Mike who was confused at me calling Johnathan “Ji” on instant messenger and asked, “You call him J.I.?” “No,” I said, “Ji, like- rhymes with Pie.” (yummie) and he said OH like “Djai?” and I said “yes!” and showed Ben the way the spelling looked and we both like it a lot. Johnathan’s nick-name is Djai. God changed people’s names in the Bible after they were a hundred years old after all, we can call our son something different than what is on the birth certificate, right?
Djai picked his first flower today.
It was just a flower, but it was one of those one-second-moments that seem to last forever. I suppose the first year is full of those moments. What seperated this event from crawling or talking or any other major event, is that all those things tend to happen gradually, and this was like suddenly the whole universe split in two as the stem of that flower was snapped in half in his tiny, chubby hand.
I know. It was just a flower.
Hunter S. Thompson, legendary author, political commentator and “gonzo” journalist, died Sunday night after shooting himself in the head with a handgun at his home in Woody Creek. He was 67.
Thompson’s son, Juan, found his father’s body in the kitchen around 6 p.m. By 6:30 p.m., Thompson’s home at 1278 Woody Creek Road was sealed off by a sheriff’s van.
http://www.aspentimes.com/article/20050221/NEWS/102210014
How tragic. I don’t even know what to say about it.
1) Your motivation to mow the lawn is to play baseball with your son (8mo old!).
It was finally warm and dry enough outside today for Ji to roll around on the grass. It was nice to see him play outside, though I had to keep fishing leaves out of his fists and mouth! It is time to bust out the rake.