Jack is now way into shoes.
Mind you there was a time he hated shoes, hated socks and didn't want to have anything near his tootsies.
The other day we were playing in his room and he found his brand new red Converse high top. He held it up over his head and shouted in delight ...
"New SHOES!!"
... and then insisted I put them on him.
Now whenever he sees shoes he has to point them out.
"Mama shoes."
"Dada shoes."
Yesterday evening we opened Christmas gifts from his aunts and uncle from DC. He tore open the packaging and then waited for me to open the box. First, a Virginia Tech football jersey. He picked it up looked at it and then tossed it aside. (That gift was more for Uncle and Daddy to enjoy.) Then he pulled out another shirt. And then he saw them. Brand new KICKS.
He quickly pulled out one.
"New shoes! New shoes!" he said clapping. And then when he realized they lit up when he moved, he said, "ooooo."
We immediately had to put them on. He tried to do it on his own but he eventually let me help him.
Later that night Dada called from the road to see how we were doing. I held the phone up to Jack's ear and his father asked him what was going on.
"Dada. New shoes. New shoes!"
And as he was saying it, he pointed to his feet, smiling.
21 December 2005
19 December 2005
Day LXIX
First of all, I think my Roman Numerals are totally off. I have no idea where I lost track and I doubt if I will have time or the energy to go back and figure it out. I now question why I even started it that way.
So I realize I never really described the trip to Hawaii. Now that it's like a month later, who really cares, I say! I will include little snip-its or highlights not described through the pictures I posted.
The flight there.
Let me just say, I was a little cocky about this. I knew it would be difficult, everyone and their mother were quick to tell me just how horrible it would be but deep inside my heart I thought -- not with my Jack. He's a good boy.
And now, looking back, I don't really think it was a question of being a good boy or not. It was a tough trip and it would be for anyone. People skipped out on the wedding at the prospect of the flight. We didn't buy him a seat because, well, we didn't want to spend the money. A flight from Michigan to Hawaii ain't cheap and I figured he'd just want to sit on my lap the whole time anyway. I figured wrong.
By the time we'd gotten on the first flight from Grand Rapids to Chicago, he'd already had a leaky diaper. I wasn't worried, I packed a back up outfit in my carry-on. I was of course disappointed since I had bought and saved the outfit he wet just for the trip but I tried to brush aside my disappointment. That first flight wasn't bad. The plane was little but there really weren't many people on it. They all thought Jack was just such a doll. He had a blast walking up and down the mini-aisle saying "hi" to everyone. He even took a short nap. Whew! One down, one HUUUUGGGEE one to go. That wasn't that bad.
We got to O'Hare and met up with Husband's dad. We were running short on time so I didn't have time to use the bathroom and we didn't have time to change Jack's diaper. Oh well, we thought, we'll just do it on the plane once we were settled. Yeah, leak No. 2 occurred while waiting to check in the stroller at the gate. Panic set in. I didn't have a third spare!! When was the last time his diaper leaked! Once we discovered Huggies kicked Pampers butt we never had problems like this!!
When we got to our teeny tiny seats, I dug out the first outfit. The pants weren't that bad but the shirt was not wearable. The shirt he was wearing had a big wet patch on his hip. So, what else could we do? We quickly tried to change him. But the stewardesses wouldn't let us go in the bathroom. So Husband tried to block him as we tackled him into his not-new, not-dry clothes. I am sure he thought we were insane. The original outfit had a zip-up jacket. That's what my kid wore. Soccer pants and a zip-up jacket. No onesie. No T-shirt. I am sure all the other women on the plane were shocked and disgusted. But what was I going to do?
So while we were attempting the switch-a-roo, Jack was screaming. Maybe yelling is a better way to describe it. YELLLLLLLLING. Keep in mind, our plane had not even left Chicago yet. People were still boarding. Tray tables were not required to be in the upright position. If we weren't going to Maui, I may have walked. We finally got him settled, grabbed some fishies and he seemed to pull himself together. For the moment. Meanwhile I tried to hang the wet clothes around our area in anticipation of another leak. We had wet clothes hanging from the upright tray tables and the arms of our chairs. In retrospect, it's pretty gross.
Jack refused to drink when we were taking off.
He hated everything about that plane and made sure every person who was in the section knew about it. Then his DVD player wouldn't work (probably because he kept shaking the thing) then he spilled Husband's Ginger ale everywhere. (Yes, we did have to rotate the other clothes back in.) Then the stewardess told us to walk him around the plane to burn off energy. Whoops, she forgot to mention to stay out of first class so Jack and I got screamed at for that. Then Jack became obsessed with the mini-kitchen in the back and would not leave the area even though the one stewardess made it completely obvious she didn't like him.
And did I mention Husband was on deadline for work and had to write a story while I took care of all of this?
I think this is when I cried the first time.
Then Jack became obsessed with the couple sitting ahead of us. They HATED Jack. They didn't hide it. They whispered and grunted and gave him dirty looks. But in his babyhood, he thought they were playing. But when he decided to tap the guy on his bald spot, I thought it was over.
I think that's when I cried the second time.
By this point, I told Husband I didn't care if he had work to do, I needed a break. The airline was showing and episode of Raymond and I wanted to watch a few minutes of it. It may have been the tears, or maybe the fact that I was shoving our kid in his arms but Husband gave me a break.
I'd like to say at some point it all became funny. It was funny when Jack dumped the glass of ice all over us and we were sopping wet -- and got the drying clothes hanging all wet again. Yeah, that was real funny. It was funny when all three of us had to cram in the airline bathroom to change the THREE stinky diapers he had somewhere over the Pacific. That was a riot. How funny was it that Jack dumped his bag of fishies in the aisle?! Oh yeah, that was great. Good times.
When I called my dad to say we had landed, I couldn't even speak. I was going to lose my mind. He asked me if I was OK. All I could say was, "It was bad. It was really, really bad." Then I hung up.
About an hour later, as I described what had happened to my mother, she laughed the hardest I have heard her laugh in a long time. She told me I would think it was funny someday.
Yeah, not so much yet.
So I realize I never really described the trip to Hawaii. Now that it's like a month later, who really cares, I say! I will include little snip-its or highlights not described through the pictures I posted.
The flight there.
Let me just say, I was a little cocky about this. I knew it would be difficult, everyone and their mother were quick to tell me just how horrible it would be but deep inside my heart I thought -- not with my Jack. He's a good boy.
And now, looking back, I don't really think it was a question of being a good boy or not. It was a tough trip and it would be for anyone. People skipped out on the wedding at the prospect of the flight. We didn't buy him a seat because, well, we didn't want to spend the money. A flight from Michigan to Hawaii ain't cheap and I figured he'd just want to sit on my lap the whole time anyway. I figured wrong.
By the time we'd gotten on the first flight from Grand Rapids to Chicago, he'd already had a leaky diaper. I wasn't worried, I packed a back up outfit in my carry-on. I was of course disappointed since I had bought and saved the outfit he wet just for the trip but I tried to brush aside my disappointment. That first flight wasn't bad. The plane was little but there really weren't many people on it. They all thought Jack was just such a doll. He had a blast walking up and down the mini-aisle saying "hi" to everyone. He even took a short nap. Whew! One down, one HUUUUGGGEE one to go. That wasn't that bad.
We got to O'Hare and met up with Husband's dad. We were running short on time so I didn't have time to use the bathroom and we didn't have time to change Jack's diaper. Oh well, we thought, we'll just do it on the plane once we were settled. Yeah, leak No. 2 occurred while waiting to check in the stroller at the gate. Panic set in. I didn't have a third spare!! When was the last time his diaper leaked! Once we discovered Huggies kicked Pampers butt we never had problems like this!!
When we got to our teeny tiny seats, I dug out the first outfit. The pants weren't that bad but the shirt was not wearable. The shirt he was wearing had a big wet patch on his hip. So, what else could we do? We quickly tried to change him. But the stewardesses wouldn't let us go in the bathroom. So Husband tried to block him as we tackled him into his not-new, not-dry clothes. I am sure he thought we were insane. The original outfit had a zip-up jacket. That's what my kid wore. Soccer pants and a zip-up jacket. No onesie. No T-shirt. I am sure all the other women on the plane were shocked and disgusted. But what was I going to do?
So while we were attempting the switch-a-roo, Jack was screaming. Maybe yelling is a better way to describe it. YELLLLLLLLING. Keep in mind, our plane had not even left Chicago yet. People were still boarding. Tray tables were not required to be in the upright position. If we weren't going to Maui, I may have walked. We finally got him settled, grabbed some fishies and he seemed to pull himself together. For the moment. Meanwhile I tried to hang the wet clothes around our area in anticipation of another leak. We had wet clothes hanging from the upright tray tables and the arms of our chairs. In retrospect, it's pretty gross.
Jack refused to drink when we were taking off.
He hated everything about that plane and made sure every person who was in the section knew about it. Then his DVD player wouldn't work (probably because he kept shaking the thing) then he spilled Husband's Ginger ale everywhere. (Yes, we did have to rotate the other clothes back in.) Then the stewardess told us to walk him around the plane to burn off energy. Whoops, she forgot to mention to stay out of first class so Jack and I got screamed at for that. Then Jack became obsessed with the mini-kitchen in the back and would not leave the area even though the one stewardess made it completely obvious she didn't like him.
And did I mention Husband was on deadline for work and had to write a story while I took care of all of this?
I think this is when I cried the first time.
Then Jack became obsessed with the couple sitting ahead of us. They HATED Jack. They didn't hide it. They whispered and grunted and gave him dirty looks. But in his babyhood, he thought they were playing. But when he decided to tap the guy on his bald spot, I thought it was over.
I think that's when I cried the second time.
By this point, I told Husband I didn't care if he had work to do, I needed a break. The airline was showing and episode of Raymond and I wanted to watch a few minutes of it. It may have been the tears, or maybe the fact that I was shoving our kid in his arms but Husband gave me a break.
I'd like to say at some point it all became funny. It was funny when Jack dumped the glass of ice all over us and we were sopping wet -- and got the drying clothes hanging all wet again. Yeah, that was real funny. It was funny when all three of us had to cram in the airline bathroom to change the THREE stinky diapers he had somewhere over the Pacific. That was a riot. How funny was it that Jack dumped his bag of fishies in the aisle?! Oh yeah, that was great. Good times.
When I called my dad to say we had landed, I couldn't even speak. I was going to lose my mind. He asked me if I was OK. All I could say was, "It was bad. It was really, really bad." Then I hung up.
About an hour later, as I described what had happened to my mother, she laughed the hardest I have heard her laugh in a long time. She told me I would think it was funny someday.
Yeah, not so much yet.
15 December 2005
Day LXVIII
Hawaii pictures, part 2
These shots were taken on a disposable camera and developed at Walmart. Quality = borderline. I should still receive more shots from other family members who went on the trip.
Here's another dorky shot of Jack on the beach. This is one to show a future girlfriend, that's for sure. Or maybe I should put it in his senior yearbook with some sort of lovey-dovey message from his "mommy." So what's he doing, you ask? He's flinging sand on everyone. Loved it. Especially loved it when it got in your eye and you screamed out in pain. He thinks that's extra funny.
(above) Watching the Hula dancers at the rehearsal dinner. As soon as it started he was so attentive that he forgot to run around.
Here's Jack at his new aunt's bridal shower. Soon he would start
to nibble on the flowers. We didn't get a picture of that -- or a shot
of him spitting out the petals after realizing Hawaiian flowers do not
make a good snack.
07 December 2005
Day LXVII
Hawaii pictures, part 1
Please note these pictures were put in backwards. Because I am technologically inept, and lazy, I am just asking you the reader to start at the bottom and read up. Or just view them backwards whatever works.
Thanks to my sister-in-law who lives in DC for the shots.
Here he is dancing. Notice how he's taken off his jacket, his hair is a total mess and let's face it, he's sweaty.
Here's Jack at the wedding. This is after the ceremony and about half an hour into cocktails. At this point he has been running wild with other kids for a while. He was originally tucked in and combed.
Here's Jack at the family bar-B-Q we had one of the nights. If you look, his mouth is full. That's because he decided to take a bite out of every hamburger bun on the table. This picture demonstrates him getting caught. Also note: His t-shirt from his DC Uncle says "Here comes trouble." Nuff said, I say.
This is Jack at the pool with his Grandmother and Aunty. If you notice, he's out of the dork suit and instead we opted for a t-shirt with extra block on. We even covered his head with 45 because he REFUSED to wear the hat. Also note, he's holding his grandmother's phone and reaching for his aunt's camera. Technology freak!
This is Jack on the beach in Maui. I know, I know someday he will be really angry I made him wear the hat and the dorky suit. However, look at how white the kid is... and have you seen how white his dad is? He could fry like bacon out in the sun. And don't feel too bad for him, that hat was ripped off about 30 seconds after this shot was taken. On a side note: Check out the bite mark on his left arm. That chomp was from a red-neck monster at his school. When we saw that, we wanted to kick that kid's ass. 30 November 2005
Day LXVI
I know everyone is waiting on pins and needles to hear about our trip to Maui. I have decided to wait until I get pictures back so I can fully illustrate our adventure.
Instead, I will dedicate this entry to my favorite holiday character:
RUDOLPH THE RED-NOSED REINDEER
Tonight marks a very monumental evening for my son and me. Tonight we will share a holiday moment that I have lived for my entire life. Tonight we will watch the best Christmas special ever.
It airs at 8 p.m. on CBS.
Tonight we will rush home, eat dinner, play a bit. Then we'll get Jack in the bath and pjed-up. Together we will cuddle on the couch to start the tradition that I so enjoyed every year I can remember as a child. There's nothing better...
Let's talk a bit about my serious love for Rudolph .
The majority of my Christmas decorations continue to be reindeer related. But that's nothing amazing.
How about leaving carrots out for Rudolph only when most kids left cookies for Santa? Or how about the fact that last week I bought myself a tee shirt from Walmart that has a big picture of the red-nosed hero? But perhaps the best is the fact that as a child I asked for an autographed picture. Yup. I was in elementary school and that's what I wanted. And I got it!!
I really believed it was an actual picture of him. I didn't care that it was a black and white shot. My Papa (maternal grandfather) told me he only did black and whites. I didn't challenge that his nose wasn't a light bulb. Papa told me he was able to "save" the red in the off season. And I certainly didn't think it was strange that he was able to sign his name (in red ink of course) though he didn't have a thumb. I actually took it to school to show everyone.
Recently (in the last five years) I bothered to flip the picture over. On the back was a stamp from National Geographic. And it's strange how similar Rudolph's handwriting and Papa's handwriting were... really strange.
***
By the way, yesterday Jack went to the doctor for a well-baby check-up.
His measurements: 34 inches tall, 27 lbs.
17 November 2005
Day LXV -- 3 days
I mean six weeks goes by really damn fast. We leave for Hawaii on Sunday. Can you believe it? I can't! I feel like we have been planning this trip forever!
This will likely be the last post before the trip. Tonight I have to finish packing. Tomorrow we are in a parade and Ga is coming up for the night. Saturday will be spent getting myself ready -- nails, hair, etc. And Sunday morning we are off.
So I called Jackson's doctor to find out if the office has any pointers for traveling with a toddler. After being put on hold for too long, I got transferred to the office nurse. (This is the same woman who told us Jack would be fine when he had Croup only to later spend three days in the hospital.) Anywho, I explained the flying situation and asked her for any ideas she could offer.
Guess what she said to do?
Drug him. And then she laughed.
Hmmm... that sounds like sound advice, doesn't it? I am sure the doctor would be thrilled to know the brilliant word selection her nurse used. I was shocked. Sure, I'd heard from other parents that I should give him medicine to help him sleep but this? She suggested 1.5 teaspoons of Benadryl every six hours. And she told me to start about 30 minutes before take off. And she said Jack should be drinking something at take-off and landing.
Of course when I shared this information with my dad he immediately told me to find another pediatrician.
Later, I was talking to a colleague about it and what the nurse had said. She told me it's important to give babies Dimetapp or Benadryl when flying because the air pressure will hurt their ears and make them feel uncomfortable. The medicine will relieve some of the pain, and make them feel more relaxed. Apparently, that's what her doctor told her. Now that made it seem like good, sound, sensible advice. That explanation didn't cause me to feel creeped out or guilty.
Maybe it is time for a new doctor...
This will likely be the last post before the trip. Tonight I have to finish packing. Tomorrow we are in a parade and Ga is coming up for the night. Saturday will be spent getting myself ready -- nails, hair, etc. And Sunday morning we are off.
So I called Jackson's doctor to find out if the office has any pointers for traveling with a toddler. After being put on hold for too long, I got transferred to the office nurse. (This is the same woman who told us Jack would be fine when he had Croup only to later spend three days in the hospital.) Anywho, I explained the flying situation and asked her for any ideas she could offer.
Guess what she said to do?
Drug him. And then she laughed.
Hmmm... that sounds like sound advice, doesn't it? I am sure the doctor would be thrilled to know the brilliant word selection her nurse used. I was shocked. Sure, I'd heard from other parents that I should give him medicine to help him sleep but this? She suggested 1.5 teaspoons of Benadryl every six hours. And she told me to start about 30 minutes before take off. And she said Jack should be drinking something at take-off and landing.
Of course when I shared this information with my dad he immediately told me to find another pediatrician.
Later, I was talking to a colleague about it and what the nurse had said. She told me it's important to give babies Dimetapp or Benadryl when flying because the air pressure will hurt their ears and make them feel uncomfortable. The medicine will relieve some of the pain, and make them feel more relaxed. Apparently, that's what her doctor told her. Now that made it seem like good, sound, sensible advice. That explanation didn't cause me to feel creeped out or guilty.
Maybe it is time for a new doctor...
14 November 2005
Day LXIV -- 6 days
Yeah, yeah. It's been more than a week since I last posted you on the happenings in Jack's life. And trust me it's not like things haven't gone on.
Purdue weekend:
I woke up at 11:30 p.m. with stomach flu and proceeded to be sick all night long. I haven't been that ill since I had yellow Garfield footy pajamas. It was awful. The 'rents were in Pa. My in-town girlfriend was out of town and Hubbie was on the road. I called former Nanny now nursing student who was delivering pizzas until 4 a.m. to come over. He was left with Jackson until 8:30 p.m. the next night.
The week:
I have no idea what happened. It's a complete blank.
Last weekend:
Hubbie headed off to Minnesota and the Kid and I went to the D. I had a journalism/PR conference where members of the panel were former State News staffers which really made me laugh that they were supposed to be "leading."
Then we shopped for the Hawaii trip. We shopped all night Saturday. We shopped all day Sunday. Jack was the best behaved kid I have ever seen -- no joke.
He didn't cry or squirm or complain at all. People actually stopped us to comment on how good he was... it was incredible. True, while shopping for the wedding gift he grabbed something off the shelves in the fine collections area but luckily it was sterling. He just liked it because it was shiny. True, he had to stop in front of every store to dance (he especially enjoyed the Abercrombie and Fitch for Kids store).
This of course brought him more compliments and admiration from strangers. He walked from the bridge between the North and South side of Somerset Mall all the way to Marshall Fields -- an anchor of the mall. If you're not familiar that is really, really far. It was a site especially since he still doesn't bend his knees.
He refused to hold my hand. He refused to hold Grandma's hand. Two ugly teenagers nearly ran him over and then laughed when he fell. I wanted to kick their trendy asses but he wasn't phased. He just picked himself up, literally brushed off his hands and kept on walking. Things did get a little out of hand in Marshall Fields so we had to scoop him up and lock him into a stroller now provided by the department store. But as long as we kept moving, he was fine just staring at people.
Hawaii prep:
Yeah, that's kinda funny. I have started Jack's luggage. Unfortunately, I realized last night our big suitcase is in storage right now. One, two, three NOT IT to go and get that! I have concocted a plan of action. Every night after work I will hit one local store to get the last minute necessities. (I have not shared this idea with the boy yet so who knows how he'll react!) Tonight: WALMART. They sell BullFrog block for babies which is supposed to be the best to fight off UV and cancer-causing rays.
I just know I will be hitting Meijer at 2 a.m. Saturday night no matter how hard I try to get our family ready.
My goal is to be completely packed by Thursday. But really, what are the chances?
Purdue weekend:
I woke up at 11:30 p.m. with stomach flu and proceeded to be sick all night long. I haven't been that ill since I had yellow Garfield footy pajamas. It was awful. The 'rents were in Pa. My in-town girlfriend was out of town and Hubbie was on the road. I called former Nanny now nursing student who was delivering pizzas until 4 a.m. to come over. He was left with Jackson until 8:30 p.m. the next night.
The week:
I have no idea what happened. It's a complete blank.
Last weekend:
Hubbie headed off to Minnesota and the Kid and I went to the D. I had a journalism/PR conference where members of the panel were former State News staffers which really made me laugh that they were supposed to be "leading."
Then we shopped for the Hawaii trip. We shopped all night Saturday. We shopped all day Sunday. Jack was the best behaved kid I have ever seen -- no joke.
He didn't cry or squirm or complain at all. People actually stopped us to comment on how good he was... it was incredible. True, while shopping for the wedding gift he grabbed something off the shelves in the fine collections area but luckily it was sterling. He just liked it because it was shiny. True, he had to stop in front of every store to dance (he especially enjoyed the Abercrombie and Fitch for Kids store).
This of course brought him more compliments and admiration from strangers. He walked from the bridge between the North and South side of Somerset Mall all the way to Marshall Fields -- an anchor of the mall. If you're not familiar that is really, really far. It was a site especially since he still doesn't bend his knees.
He refused to hold my hand. He refused to hold Grandma's hand. Two ugly teenagers nearly ran him over and then laughed when he fell. I wanted to kick their trendy asses but he wasn't phased. He just picked himself up, literally brushed off his hands and kept on walking. Things did get a little out of hand in Marshall Fields so we had to scoop him up and lock him into a stroller now provided by the department store. But as long as we kept moving, he was fine just staring at people.
Hawaii prep:
Yeah, that's kinda funny. I have started Jack's luggage. Unfortunately, I realized last night our big suitcase is in storage right now. One, two, three NOT IT to go and get that! I have concocted a plan of action. Every night after work I will hit one local store to get the last minute necessities. (I have not shared this idea with the boy yet so who knows how he'll react!) Tonight: WALMART. They sell BullFrog block for babies which is supposed to be the best to fight off UV and cancer-causing rays.
I just know I will be hitting Meijer at 2 a.m. Saturday night no matter how hard I try to get our family ready.
My goal is to be completely packed by Thursday. But really, what are the chances?
04 November 2005
Day LXIII -- 16 days
So Husband left for Purdue today. That leaves me and the kid alone for the weekend. It should be interesting since Jack's teething right now. It's amazing how much getting a teeny molar really throws him out of wack. Of course the fact that he refuses to nap at school really doesn't help much either.
For the entire week he's come home from school and slept through the night. He may wake up for an hour or so, grab a bottle and nod back to sleep. Last night he couldn't resist the Ritz Bits cheese sandwiches I offered him though. It's his current favorite (also a fav of mine). But instead of chewing on them, he sucked them until they disappeared. I know it sounds disgusting but I thought it was quite brilliant of the boy.
Speaking of brilliance. He's found his nose. And now we annoy him to death asking him about it. "Where's you nose Jackie? Where's your nose? Show Mama your nose... Show Daddy your nose..." He will actually start messing with you if he thinks you're talking about it too much. First he'll point at ours. Then he'll laugh and poke at his eye. Then his mouth. I think he thinks we're morons.
***
Verbage update:
"OK" (He said this the first time when I said, "Jack, let's go upstairs and take a bath.") It was awesome.
"Let's go!" (This really comes out when we are stuck in traffic or I am dilly-dallying at Meijers.) "Let me out!" (This happened this morning when Husband tried to pin him in. He wanted to follow me out the door as I left for work.)
For the entire week he's come home from school and slept through the night. He may wake up for an hour or so, grab a bottle and nod back to sleep. Last night he couldn't resist the Ritz Bits cheese sandwiches I offered him though. It's his current favorite (also a fav of mine). But instead of chewing on them, he sucked them until they disappeared. I know it sounds disgusting but I thought it was quite brilliant of the boy.
Speaking of brilliance. He's found his nose. And now we annoy him to death asking him about it. "Where's you nose Jackie? Where's your nose? Show Mama your nose... Show Daddy your nose..." He will actually start messing with you if he thinks you're talking about it too much. First he'll point at ours. Then he'll laugh and poke at his eye. Then his mouth. I think he thinks we're morons.
***
Verbage update:
"OK" (He said this the first time when I said, "Jack, let's go upstairs and take a bath.") It was awesome.
"Let's go!" (This really comes out when we are stuck in traffic or I am dilly-dallying at Meijers.) "Let me out!" (This happened this morning when Husband tried to pin him in. He wanted to follow me out the door as I left for work.)
01 November 2005
Day LXII -- 19 days
Happy Halloween, right?
Doesn't look too happy does he?
This picture was sent to me from Jack's favorite teacher at school. I left work early to get to his first party -- and missed it! I guess when you throw together a bunch of one and two-year-olds the party means a cupcake.
27 October 2005
Day LXI -- 24 days
OK. So I totally know my count to Hawaii is off. Don't ask questions. Just go with it.
Another weekend is approaching, thank goodness. But it's another weekend chock full of crap to do. Why can't we just have a weekend where we don't have to go anywhere and no one comes to visit? Bah-humbug, I say!
Let's chat for a moment about my kid and his walking. 'Cause he's doing it all the time. In fact, he's close to speed walking these days -- straight to the stairs. Loves to climb the stairs. There's also a light switch near the stairs Jack has adopted as the best toy ever!! (Thanks, Ga for showing him that!)
The point is, he's getting really good at being independent. He's not really one to put strange objects in his mouth which is a relief. But Jack will put anything in a light socket that he thinks should fit (and likes to pull out the baby proof thing out). He loves to jump on the couch (and nearly fall off every time). And he loves to play with fans. Don't try to simply unplug it because he'll plug it right back in and turn it back on.
I look back fondly to those easy days of vibrating chairs and exersaucers. People say that's hard. I laugh at them.
So picture this little blond head boggling around the house with his Frankenstein legs. (he's not really into bending his knees just yet.) Usually he hums under his breath or whispers "Da-Da" if Husband is not yet home from the office. Sometimes I just sit back and watch him wondering what he's thinking about while he works on his little "projects". Jack's very particular about where things go, what things do, and how he wants it all to fall into place.
These days, when he's "busy" he walks right on past Ma and takes care of business. He's busy building with his blocks, throwing his rainbow colored balls around and flipping the lights on and off.
He can't be bothered with hugging or kissing. He'll blow me a kiss to get me off his back.
Another weekend is approaching, thank goodness. But it's another weekend chock full of crap to do. Why can't we just have a weekend where we don't have to go anywhere and no one comes to visit? Bah-humbug, I say!
Let's chat for a moment about my kid and his walking. 'Cause he's doing it all the time. In fact, he's close to speed walking these days -- straight to the stairs. Loves to climb the stairs. There's also a light switch near the stairs Jack has adopted as the best toy ever!! (Thanks, Ga for showing him that!)
The point is, he's getting really good at being independent. He's not really one to put strange objects in his mouth which is a relief. But Jack will put anything in a light socket that he thinks should fit (and likes to pull out the baby proof thing out). He loves to jump on the couch (and nearly fall off every time). And he loves to play with fans. Don't try to simply unplug it because he'll plug it right back in and turn it back on.
I look back fondly to those easy days of vibrating chairs and exersaucers. People say that's hard. I laugh at them.
So picture this little blond head boggling around the house with his Frankenstein legs. (he's not really into bending his knees just yet.) Usually he hums under his breath or whispers "Da-Da" if Husband is not yet home from the office. Sometimes I just sit back and watch him wondering what he's thinking about while he works on his little "projects". Jack's very particular about where things go, what things do, and how he wants it all to fall into place.
These days, when he's "busy" he walks right on past Ma and takes care of business. He's busy building with his blocks, throwing his rainbow colored balls around and flipping the lights on and off.
He can't be bothered with hugging or kissing. He'll blow me a kiss to get me off his back.
20 October 2005
Day LX --29 (60th post)
Yesterday Jack got to play in the "big" kid classroom (1 and 2 year olds.) He should technically be in that class but he refuses to walk on a consistent basis so for liability reasons he still spends some of his day in the nursery. I talked to the director of the center about this and she thinks when he's not thinking about it, he walks but he makes an effort to walk on his knees.
Stubborn.
Yesterday they had him eat lunch (and take his nap) in the BK room to see how he'd do. The menu included: pizza, corn and applesauce.
The teacher told me that Jack ate his lunch completely -- and in his own way.
First he ate all the meat off the pizza. Then he ate some corn and then 'sauce.
Then he ate all the cheese. Then corn. Then 'sauce.
Next, he sucked off all the pizza sauce. Then corn. The applesauce.
Finally, he ate the crust and finished off the corn and applesauce.
I would have loved to see him. This is when I am sad I am a working mom.
Stubborn.
Yesterday they had him eat lunch (and take his nap) in the BK room to see how he'd do. The menu included: pizza, corn and applesauce.
The teacher told me that Jack ate his lunch completely -- and in his own way.
First he ate all the meat off the pizza. Then he ate some corn and then 'sauce.
Then he ate all the cheese. Then corn. Then 'sauce.
Next, he sucked off all the pizza sauce. Then corn. The applesauce.
Finally, he ate the crust and finished off the corn and applesauce.
I would have loved to see him. This is when I am sad I am a working mom.
18 October 2005
Day XLXVIII -- 31
Great news! Jack's been cleared by his doctor! He's croup (crap) free! He's RSV free! He's not suffering from an ear infection or a high temp! He can go back to playing at school!
He was on fire today at the doctors ... he was crawling all over the paper-covered examining table. Loved being just a diaper and socks. L-O-V-E-D it. The nurse gave him the measuring tape that she uses to measure baby heads and he LOVED pulling it out of the case and snapping it back in. He was bubbly and happy and really cute. Until...
He bit me on my shoulder and laughed really hard when I said, "OW!"
(For some reason he thinks it's really funny whenever anyone says OW! Ask Ga, Gramma and Daddy about it. It's not fun when his baby razor blades dig in.)
Here's another example of the kid's genius....
The Dr. was leaning over him checking his ears when Jackson T. reached into her breast pocket, pulled out the tongue depresser, opened his mouth, stuck it on his tongue and said, "AHHHH!" Even the Dr. was impressed.
Daddy dressed him today in something that just didn't make sense. He claimed he wanted him to be comfortable. Apparently comfort doesn't equal color coordinated. (It's not like I didn't set an outfit out for the kid.)
Not like it really matters, right?
"Why do you care?" Husband asked me in the waiting room of the doctor's office. "He' s just a baby and he likes it."
Sure.
When I dropped him off at school one of his teachers said, "Looks like Daddy dressed Jackson today!"
Whoo-hoo!
He was on fire today at the doctors ... he was crawling all over the paper-covered examining table. Loved being just a diaper and socks. L-O-V-E-D it. The nurse gave him the measuring tape that she uses to measure baby heads and he LOVED pulling it out of the case and snapping it back in. He was bubbly and happy and really cute. Until...
He bit me on my shoulder and laughed really hard when I said, "OW!"
(For some reason he thinks it's really funny whenever anyone says OW! Ask Ga, Gramma and Daddy about it. It's not fun when his baby razor blades dig in.)
Here's another example of the kid's genius....
The Dr. was leaning over him checking his ears when Jackson T. reached into her breast pocket, pulled out the tongue depresser, opened his mouth, stuck it on his tongue and said, "AHHHH!" Even the Dr. was impressed.
Daddy dressed him today in something that just didn't make sense. He claimed he wanted him to be comfortable. Apparently comfort doesn't equal color coordinated. (It's not like I didn't set an outfit out for the kid.)
Not like it really matters, right?
"Why do you care?" Husband asked me in the waiting room of the doctor's office. "He' s just a baby and he likes it."
Sure.
When I dropped him off at school one of his teachers said, "Looks like Daddy dressed Jackson today!"
17 October 2005
Day XLXVII -- 32
So when you decide to have a baby, everyone tries to tell you how hard it's going to be. They all say, "Your life will never be the same." And it's true.
No longer can we sleep in until 2 p.m. on Saturdays.
There's no "movie night" on Tuesdays just because we feel like popcorn and mindless entertainment.
And I don't even know who Conan O'Brien is anymore.
But no one can fully prepare you for the baby's first trip to the emergency room. And it's not like I didn't have runs to the ER as a kid -- A teeter-totter was slammed on my head when I was in 1st grade, thanks Sarah Booher. But when a "quick" ER trip turns into several days in the peds unit at the local 'pital.... that's when you discover how hard it really is to be a parent.
Jack hadn't been feeling good all week. We both knew it. But it seemed like just a cold. A call to the doctor's office told us it sounded like he had croup -- no, no one checked him. They just heard him coughing over the phone. And then the nurse blew us off. He's fine, she said. There's nothing you can do, she said. He just has to get over it.
Thursday night -- around 8 p.m -- he was a disaster. He was sleeping (uncomfortably) and sounded very raspy. His temp got up to 103.1 -- and it could have been higher but he wouldn't cooperate when I was taking it.
Husband paged the doctor. She called back in under 30 minutes. We explained what was going on and held the phone up to his mouth for her to listen. She immediately told us to go to the hospital. It was the temperature that was worrying her, it was the fact that he was struggling to breath.
So we wrapped him up and took off.
We got to the hospital around 10 p.m. (completely forgetting there was a nursing strike going on) and found that the rag-a-bunch hanging out there were watching ER on TV. I found this slightly funny. Jack was very interested in openly staring at the variety of people in the waiting room. He suddenly seemed like he was feeling better. I worried that we'd jumped the gun on the trip to the ER.
We were soon brought back to a bed. Husband thought that was a good sign. But I knew they'd just moved us somewhere else to wait. And we waited... and waited... and waited. Jack was getting tired. And very sick again. He's horrible cough wouldn't stop. His temp had dipped to 102.9. Still not good.
Finally the ER doctor came in to check him. She agreed that he had croup but was concerned about his temp. Croup doesn't usually bring that high of one. She asked for tests, Xrays.
Jack was miserable by this point. He became hysterical when they tried the Xray. They had to pin him down -- the worst possible thing you can do for a very mobile baby. And unfortunately, when he became hysterical, he began to cough uncontrollably. Then he freaked because it was hard to breath. It was horrible!
The doctor decided he needed a steroid shot to help clear the airway. I don't even know what time it was at this point. The baby doctor-in-training came in to ask us the same questions two other people before him had asked. They all decided the on-call peds doc needed to come in immediately.
(Immediately in ER time is two hours apparently.)
They tried to give him oxygen. Hated it. He would not put the mask up to his face. We had to blow it by his face. Very scary. Then Jack started crying. He'd had enough. He continued to cry for a lonnnnnnng time. It was a disaster.
When we finally had him calmed down, the nurses gave him the shot of steroids. It started all over again.
At 3:30 a.m. (after the baby doctor examined him -- the same pediatrician who had been on call the day he was born) we were told Jack would be admitted. They just weren't happy with his breathing. She told us we'd have our room in the next 20 minutes or so. With that, Husband who had a trip the next day he couldn't get out of, decided to run home to rotate the laundry and try to get his things together. At this point Jack was sleeping.
At 4:30 a.m. Jack and I were still in the ER. He'd woken up about 15 minutes after Daddy left and was moaning and crying so loud the old people in the ER were giving us dirty looks. What the hell was I supposed to do? I was pacing, I was rocking, I was humming... It was a mess.
Ten minutes before 5 a.m., I called Husband from our room. We'd just gotten there.
more to come....
No longer can we sleep in until 2 p.m. on Saturdays.
There's no "movie night" on Tuesdays just because we feel like popcorn and mindless entertainment.
And I don't even know who Conan O'Brien is anymore.
But no one can fully prepare you for the baby's first trip to the emergency room. And it's not like I didn't have runs to the ER as a kid -- A teeter-totter was slammed on my head when I was in 1st grade, thanks Sarah Booher. But when a "quick" ER trip turns into several days in the peds unit at the local 'pital.... that's when you discover how hard it really is to be a parent.
Jack hadn't been feeling good all week. We both knew it. But it seemed like just a cold. A call to the doctor's office told us it sounded like he had croup -- no, no one checked him. They just heard him coughing over the phone. And then the nurse blew us off. He's fine, she said. There's nothing you can do, she said. He just has to get over it.
Thursday night -- around 8 p.m -- he was a disaster. He was sleeping (uncomfortably) and sounded very raspy. His temp got up to 103.1 -- and it could have been higher but he wouldn't cooperate when I was taking it.
Husband paged the doctor. She called back in under 30 minutes. We explained what was going on and held the phone up to his mouth for her to listen. She immediately told us to go to the hospital. It was the temperature that was worrying her, it was the fact that he was struggling to breath.
So we wrapped him up and took off.
We got to the hospital around 10 p.m. (completely forgetting there was a nursing strike going on) and found that the rag-a-bunch hanging out there were watching ER on TV. I found this slightly funny. Jack was very interested in openly staring at the variety of people in the waiting room. He suddenly seemed like he was feeling better. I worried that we'd jumped the gun on the trip to the ER.
We were soon brought back to a bed. Husband thought that was a good sign. But I knew they'd just moved us somewhere else to wait. And we waited... and waited... and waited. Jack was getting tired. And very sick again. He's horrible cough wouldn't stop. His temp had dipped to 102.9. Still not good.
Finally the ER doctor came in to check him. She agreed that he had croup but was concerned about his temp. Croup doesn't usually bring that high of one. She asked for tests, Xrays.
Jack was miserable by this point. He became hysterical when they tried the Xray. They had to pin him down -- the worst possible thing you can do for a very mobile baby. And unfortunately, when he became hysterical, he began to cough uncontrollably. Then he freaked because it was hard to breath. It was horrible!
The doctor decided he needed a steroid shot to help clear the airway. I don't even know what time it was at this point. The baby doctor-in-training came in to ask us the same questions two other people before him had asked. They all decided the on-call peds doc needed to come in immediately.
(Immediately in ER time is two hours apparently.)
They tried to give him oxygen. Hated it. He would not put the mask up to his face. We had to blow it by his face. Very scary. Then Jack started crying. He'd had enough. He continued to cry for a lonnnnnnng time. It was a disaster.
When we finally had him calmed down, the nurses gave him the shot of steroids. It started all over again.
At 3:30 a.m. (after the baby doctor examined him -- the same pediatrician who had been on call the day he was born) we were told Jack would be admitted. They just weren't happy with his breathing. She told us we'd have our room in the next 20 minutes or so. With that, Husband who had a trip the next day he couldn't get out of, decided to run home to rotate the laundry and try to get his things together. At this point Jack was sleeping.
At 4:30 a.m. Jack and I were still in the ER. He'd woken up about 15 minutes after Daddy left and was moaning and crying so loud the old people in the ER were giving us dirty looks. What the hell was I supposed to do? I was pacing, I was rocking, I was humming... It was a mess.
Ten minutes before 5 a.m., I called Husband from our room. We'd just gotten there.
more to come....
13 October 2005
Day XLXVI -- 38
The boy has a cough so horrible it could wake the dead. It sounds as if he's 100 years old and has been smoking for 99. When he talks, he sounds like this dog with no voicebox that used to live down the street from us when I was a kid.
It's bad. It's real bad.
Jack's got croup.
Apparently, it's something that only babies can get (thank goodness) but I think I was the person who gave it to him -- a co-worker's kid just got over it.
It's a virus that makes it difficult to sleep. He chokes on his flem -- and then panics. Needless to say, no one in our household has gotten much sleep this week.
Husband stayed home with him today. My parents are coming tomorrow so Husband can leave for his trip to Columbus at a decent hour. Then I think we'll spend another weekend at their house so I am not left stranded with a very sick, very clingy kid.
Lucky grandparents, eh?
It's bad. It's real bad.
Jack's got croup.
Apparently, it's something that only babies can get (thank goodness) but I think I was the person who gave it to him -- a co-worker's kid just got over it.
It's a virus that makes it difficult to sleep. He chokes on his flem -- and then panics. Needless to say, no one in our household has gotten much sleep this week.
Husband stayed home with him today. My parents are coming tomorrow so Husband can leave for his trip to Columbus at a decent hour. Then I think we'll spend another weekend at their house so I am not left stranded with a very sick, very clingy kid.
Lucky grandparents, eh?
11 October 2005
Day XLXV -- 40 days until Hawaii
Today offically marks the start of "Operation Diet Hawaii." We are less than six weeks away from our Thanksgiving in Maui and we've both got what doctors call, "a little bit of a weight problem.''
Hmmm... slim fasting is the BEST!
Jack woke up with a cough today that could make a grown man cry. The kid is not having good luck in the sicky department.
He spent the day yesterday with his grandma who (we think) he calls "Nana." We are still not sure about it. Jack is still completely favoring his Ga. When Hubbie and I left him Sunday night, he waved and laughed. When Ga tried to go to the store not two hours earlier, the kid lost his mind.
He was howling, sobbing and dragging himself down the hall. It was a sad, sad thing.
Yes, he ended up going to the store with Ga.
At the restaurant for the trade-off he was excited to see us (we each got a hug) but as soon as Ga was finished parking the car, he was reaching for him. Stretching for him, actually.
Dad tries to say Jack misses us but we all know he's just trying to make us feel better about it.
Hmmm... slim fasting is the BEST!
Jack woke up with a cough today that could make a grown man cry. The kid is not having good luck in the sicky department.
He spent the day yesterday with his grandma who (we think) he calls "Nana." We are still not sure about it. Jack is still completely favoring his Ga. When Hubbie and I left him Sunday night, he waved and laughed. When Ga tried to go to the store not two hours earlier, the kid lost his mind.
He was howling, sobbing and dragging himself down the hall. It was a sad, sad thing.
Yes, he ended up going to the store with Ga.
At the restaurant for the trade-off he was excited to see us (we each got a hug) but as soon as Ga was finished parking the car, he was reaching for him. Stretching for him, actually.
Dad tries to say Jack misses us but we all know he's just trying to make us feel better about it.
06 October 2005
Day XLXIV
Photo courtesy of the aunt from Washington D.C. The dot near his nose is a boo-boo.I completely realize it has been a long time since I last wrote. Honestly, life has been slightly out-of-control. I don't think the little family has fully recovered from my week-long disappearance.
And it's not like huge things haven't happened...
MSU lost to U-M in another crushing loss.
Animal Control picked up the cat because we just couldn't get him out of that basement.
Oh, and I did I tell you Jack's walking? Yup! That's right.
The day I got back from my business trip, Husband and I rushed to school straight from the airport to get him. He was going down the slide when we walked across the yard. He immediately saw me and shrieked, pumping both fists in the air. And then, in his excitement he walked to me. It was one of the most amazing moments in my life. I swooped him up and we hugged so tightly, I thought I may crush him. We both even cried a little. Later he realized Daddy was there and he patted him on the shoulder. Then he pulled Husband over and we had a group hug. That's Jack's favorite thing.
These days he's lukewarm on the walking. Sometimes he does it, sometimes not so much.
But if he decides to walk, he claps and cheers himself on.
Priceless.
29 September 2005
Day XLXIII
105.1
No, that's not a new radio station.
That's not how much weight I lost after doing the walk (although that would be nice...)
And that certainly isn't the number of people who read this blog.
105.1 is the highest point of Jack's temperature this week. The kid has been sick. Very sick, scary sick. He's been sluggish and quiet and not interested in anything -- not even Sesame Street. It's been a long, painful week for all of us.
Today was his first day back at school. On Monday, Husband got a call from school at the end of the day that his temperature was 104. He raced to go get him and found a kid who was a disaster. (Although, he did dance in the car when Daddy played The Cure. Jackie loves The Cure.)
I immediately got a call into the doctor's office and to Ga to find out what we should do. They said the same thing: lukewarm bath, baby Motrin, fluids. Repeat.
By Tuesday, he seemed better -- at first. Then it went all downhill. We got into the doctor's at 5 p.m. (The only opening there.) He was playing well and in good spirits. I worried that maybe we'd jumped the gun... would the doctor just sigh at us and tell us it's a virus?
Nope. The nurse had to take his temperature in the one way that makes his Dad uncomfortable. And because it was so high, she did it twice. Jack was not happy. He was sobbing, actually. The staff immediately wrapped him in wet wash cloths to try to bring his body temperature down.
diagnosis: Ear infection
Apparently, an infant will get high temperatures (higher than what an adult can survive) because their immune system isn't fully developed. The baby's body heats up to essentially "fry" the bad bacteria. My kid was cooking.
Wednesday he was progressively better.
He does look sad with the little cotton balls in his ears.
Today he's back at school. I am about to call to see how he's doing. Husband is convinced he's fine. As soon as they walked in and saw his favorite teacher, Jack forgot that Husband even existed.
Back to normal.
No, that's not a new radio station.
That's not how much weight I lost after doing the walk (although that would be nice...)
And that certainly isn't the number of people who read this blog.
105.1 is the highest point of Jack's temperature this week. The kid has been sick. Very sick, scary sick. He's been sluggish and quiet and not interested in anything -- not even Sesame Street. It's been a long, painful week for all of us.
Today was his first day back at school. On Monday, Husband got a call from school at the end of the day that his temperature was 104. He raced to go get him and found a kid who was a disaster. (Although, he did dance in the car when Daddy played The Cure. Jackie loves The Cure.)
I immediately got a call into the doctor's office and to Ga to find out what we should do. They said the same thing: lukewarm bath, baby Motrin, fluids. Repeat.
By Tuesday, he seemed better -- at first. Then it went all downhill. We got into the doctor's at 5 p.m. (The only opening there.) He was playing well and in good spirits. I worried that maybe we'd jumped the gun... would the doctor just sigh at us and tell us it's a virus?
Nope. The nurse had to take his temperature in the one way that makes his Dad uncomfortable. And because it was so high, she did it twice. Jack was not happy. He was sobbing, actually. The staff immediately wrapped him in wet wash cloths to try to bring his body temperature down.
diagnosis: Ear infection
Apparently, an infant will get high temperatures (higher than what an adult can survive) because their immune system isn't fully developed. The baby's body heats up to essentially "fry" the bad bacteria. My kid was cooking.
Wednesday he was progressively better.
He does look sad with the little cotton balls in his ears.
Today he's back at school. I am about to call to see how he's doing. Husband is convinced he's fine. As soon as they walked in and saw his favorite teacher, Jack forgot that Husband even existed.
Back to normal.
23 September 2005
Day XLXII
Well, it's over.
We did it.
All six of us completed the 60 miles in three days. Amazing, isn't it? Of course, it wasn't without a few injuries.
One of us had diarrhea all day, every day, every pit, every outhouse.
One of us was severely constipated... well, more than one of us was severely constipated.
One of us caught a fungus in the community showers that didn't really bother her until she was back at work Monday.
One of us had one bad knee when we started and two bad knees when we finished.
One of us got severe sunburn -- so bad in fact that my leg was covered in blisters from where my pant line ended and my sock began. So why didn't I put on block you ask? Funny thing, I did. My burn was exactly where I must have missed a strip of my leg. It's was horrifying and everyone I showed for the next few days gasped. Some gagged.
Then there were my pesky arches. Around 1 p.m. Saturday, they decided they'd like to take a rest. They basically collapsed. Turns out it's genetic but neither parent mentioned to me their issues until late that night when I called to tell them what had happened.
Dad: "I have a lot of problems with my feet. That's going to hurt for a while."
Mom: "Well, I had to wear inserts in my shoes when I was a little girl."
Hmmmm... seems like that would have been good preventive information for me to have BEFORE I walked 60 miles!
Organizers told me at 37 miles in that I shouldn't walk anymore. I was devastated. Wasn't there anything I could do? I almost started to cry, I even teared a little. She said she'd tape me up again (it would be my third time that day) but she couldn't guarantee anything. She tried to tell me there was nothing to be ashamed about, walking more than half was a noble effort!
I guess. But when you spent the amount of time I did walking and training for this event, you want some closure. How many Saturdays and Sundays did I spend away from Jack and Husband walkin'?
This last tape job was awful. It killed to walk. My arches were so shot that they were trying to concoct some sort of fake arch with white medical tape. I was detroyed, filled with pain and I was slowing my team down. None of us wanted to miss one step of that 60 miles. I had to take one for the team. I had to sacrifice my own ego so that each one of those girls could complete their goal. I was hobbling and it was bad. In my brain I knew it wasn't worth permanent damage but in my heart I was destroyed. I needed to be iced immediately and I had secretly decided to rip the tape off my feet and walk it off. Literally.
I know now that if I hadn't taken the time to get iced then and to readjust my tape, I would not be walking now, almost a week later. Honestly, if I hadn't had the sunburn and arch issue, I would have walked away from the experience with zero aches and pains. I am so proud of my walking buddy and myself for the amount of training we did.
And even though every night that I called home and heard my Jackie babbling in the background I cried a little, I know the nearly $7 million I helped raise for breast cancer may actually allow me to be around a little longer.
Now I just have to find a physical therapist for Boston in '06 baby!
We did it.
All six of us completed the 60 miles in three days. Amazing, isn't it? Of course, it wasn't without a few injuries.
One of us had diarrhea all day, every day, every pit, every outhouse.
One of us was severely constipated... well, more than one of us was severely constipated.
One of us caught a fungus in the community showers that didn't really bother her until she was back at work Monday.
One of us had one bad knee when we started and two bad knees when we finished.
One of us got severe sunburn -- so bad in fact that my leg was covered in blisters from where my pant line ended and my sock began. So why didn't I put on block you ask? Funny thing, I did. My burn was exactly where I must have missed a strip of my leg. It's was horrifying and everyone I showed for the next few days gasped. Some gagged.
Then there were my pesky arches. Around 1 p.m. Saturday, they decided they'd like to take a rest. They basically collapsed. Turns out it's genetic but neither parent mentioned to me their issues until late that night when I called to tell them what had happened.
Dad: "I have a lot of problems with my feet. That's going to hurt for a while."
Mom: "Well, I had to wear inserts in my shoes when I was a little girl."
Hmmmm... seems like that would have been good preventive information for me to have BEFORE I walked 60 miles!
Organizers told me at 37 miles in that I shouldn't walk anymore. I was devastated. Wasn't there anything I could do? I almost started to cry, I even teared a little. She said she'd tape me up again (it would be my third time that day) but she couldn't guarantee anything. She tried to tell me there was nothing to be ashamed about, walking more than half was a noble effort!
I guess. But when you spent the amount of time I did walking and training for this event, you want some closure. How many Saturdays and Sundays did I spend away from Jack and Husband walkin'?
This last tape job was awful. It killed to walk. My arches were so shot that they were trying to concoct some sort of fake arch with white medical tape. I was detroyed, filled with pain and I was slowing my team down. None of us wanted to miss one step of that 60 miles. I had to take one for the team. I had to sacrifice my own ego so that each one of those girls could complete their goal. I was hobbling and it was bad. In my brain I knew it wasn't worth permanent damage but in my heart I was destroyed. I needed to be iced immediately and I had secretly decided to rip the tape off my feet and walk it off. Literally.
I know now that if I hadn't taken the time to get iced then and to readjust my tape, I would not be walking now, almost a week later. Honestly, if I hadn't had the sunburn and arch issue, I would have walked away from the experience with zero aches and pains. I am so proud of my walking buddy and myself for the amount of training we did.
And even though every night that I called home and heard my Jackie babbling in the background I cried a little, I know the nearly $7 million I helped raise for breast cancer may actually allow me to be around a little longer.
Now I just have to find a physical therapist for Boston in '06 baby!
12 September 2005
Day XLXI -- 4
It's kinda funny that my walk is only four days away. Am I ready physically? Hell, no. Am I ready mentally? I think everyone knows the answer to that. Am I even packed? I'm laughing right now.
Today marks the beginning of my busiest time since starting my job. I leave for Chicago this afternoon. I have a conference Tuesday. Then I head back to home for a conference Wednesday morning. Then on Thursday night I fly back to C-town. At 4 a.m. we drive to Wisconsin to start our walk by 6:30 a.m. Then I walk. I walk and I walk so more. On Sunday night I fly from C-Town to DC for a two day conference there. I fly back Wednesday (our wedding anniversary.)
That's a lot of days without my Jackson Thomas.
This is the face I will see when my eyes are closed for the next two weeks as guilt washes over me.
08 September 2005
Day XLX -- 8
Sorry for the lack of posts. (Don't know who I am apologizing to exactly but maybe someday the future Mrs. Jackson T. will be interested to see what her hubbie was doing at 14 months.)
KATRINA
My company is amazing. Locations from across the country have jumped at the chance to help the victims of this disaster. My job has been to organize those efforts ie. no time for my regular work or anything for that matter.
JACK
Big news on the Jack front ... side... back... and top. JTR got his first haircut. After months of harrassment and comments about his gorgeous curls, they are sadly gone. My son is now a real boy -- not in the Pinnocio kind of way, silly.
I decided I could cut it myself Tuesday while he played in the bath. Hmmm... sounded brillant at the time. Last night we spent the evening at a local barber gettin' it fixed. Michelle the stylist did a fine job but hopefully those curls will grow back by the family pictures and wedding in Maui in November.
HOME
We have a bite!! We show the house for the first time Saturday afternoon. What does that mean? No R&R for Hubbie and me. We are racing to get anything we can finished. And yes, the damn cat still resides in our basement. I have had a live trap with food set for four days now and he's protesting. Jerk. Please little kitty get trapped!
3-DAY
Did everyone (all two of you who read this) notice that we are less than 10 days away from my big walk. Again, what was I thinking when I signed up for this?
KATRINA
My company is amazing. Locations from across the country have jumped at the chance to help the victims of this disaster. My job has been to organize those efforts ie. no time for my regular work or anything for that matter.
JACK
Big news on the Jack front ... side... back... and top. JTR got his first haircut. After months of harrassment and comments about his gorgeous curls, they are sadly gone. My son is now a real boy -- not in the Pinnocio kind of way, silly.
I decided I could cut it myself Tuesday while he played in the bath. Hmmm... sounded brillant at the time. Last night we spent the evening at a local barber gettin' it fixed. Michelle the stylist did a fine job but hopefully those curls will grow back by the family pictures and wedding in Maui in November.
HOME
We have a bite!! We show the house for the first time Saturday afternoon. What does that mean? No R&R for Hubbie and me. We are racing to get anything we can finished. And yes, the damn cat still resides in our basement. I have had a live trap with food set for four days now and he's protesting. Jerk. Please little kitty get trapped!
3-DAY
Did everyone (all two of you who read this) notice that we are less than 10 days away from my big walk. Again, what was I thinking when I signed up for this?
06 September 2005
Day XLIX -- 11
Today is a bit random.
The Roman numerals are getting a little out of control.
Recent update from the TX cousin -- Another boy will soon join Jack in the next generation of family. No name as of yet. Very exciting for all.
Talked to the 'rents in Ireland Sunday (while walking 18 miles). Things sound brilliant (to quote the Irish.) They spent the weekend with our family. This included going to an Irish dance festival and seeing the sites -- the family farm, the church where Mom's grandmother was baptized. I am sure it's been a very emotional and heartwarming experience. Wonder if they've remembered to take pictures?
Walked 18 Sunday. Walked 10 Monday. Still can feel my legs which is a good sign, I think.
Took Jack to the doctor Friday for his one-year checkout. He's doing well except he has fallen to the 25th percentile for weight. He's 21.5 pounds. The doctors a smidge concerned about this and wants us to put butter on everything he eats... and then mix in sour cream. He's very active and tall (75th percentile) and his head is quite large (98th percentile) so that may be why he's not gaining quickly. (Heavy head could be a real workout.) Husband of course laughed out loud at the the size of Jackie's noggin because it is indeed from my side.
Jack stood for about 30 seconds Monday until he noticed, giggled and fell. We are getting closer I think. I tried to get him to stand more -- and practive walking -- but he's just not interested.
Speaking of not interested, no nibbles on the homestead. Great!
The Roman numerals are getting a little out of control.
Recent update from the TX cousin -- Another boy will soon join Jack in the next generation of family. No name as of yet. Very exciting for all.
Talked to the 'rents in Ireland Sunday (while walking 18 miles). Things sound brilliant (to quote the Irish.) They spent the weekend with our family. This included going to an Irish dance festival and seeing the sites -- the family farm, the church where Mom's grandmother was baptized. I am sure it's been a very emotional and heartwarming experience. Wonder if they've remembered to take pictures?
Walked 18 Sunday. Walked 10 Monday. Still can feel my legs which is a good sign, I think.
Took Jack to the doctor Friday for his one-year checkout. He's doing well except he has fallen to the 25th percentile for weight. He's 21.5 pounds. The doctors a smidge concerned about this and wants us to put butter on everything he eats... and then mix in sour cream. He's very active and tall (75th percentile) and his head is quite large (98th percentile) so that may be why he's not gaining quickly. (Heavy head could be a real workout.) Husband of course laughed out loud at the the size of Jackie's noggin because it is indeed from my side.
Jack stood for about 30 seconds Monday until he noticed, giggled and fell. We are getting closer I think. I tried to get him to stand more -- and practive walking -- but he's just not interested.
Speaking of not interested, no nibbles on the homestead. Great!
31 August 2005
Day XLVIII -- 16
Jack will never be able to use the "peer pressure" card with me. If, at 1, we are unable to make him do anything he doesn't want to do, then he sure as hell won't be able to convince me at 16 that his friend, "made him do it."
Today at school they had an "IDENT-A-KID" program visit. It's a great idea. For $10, they take a mug, fingerprint, weigh and measure the kid. Then they put all his information on an identity care to keep in your wallet. That way if, God forbid, you get separated the information will be easy to collect for authorities. We bought a package of four cards... we can each have one, give one to the g-rents and have one for visiting sitters.
Today when I called school to check on my baby, they told me Jack wasn't really interested in providing any sort of cooperation.
In fact I think her exact words were: "He was a stinker."
Each child is required to get his or her picture taken -- it took several tries.
Each child must stand still so they can measure him or her -- it sounds like it took several people to assist on this goal.
Each child must get weighed -- he was not interested at all.
Each child is fingerprinted -- that was the easy part.
Secretly, I am a little happy he decided to show this side of himself because I think those girls just thought I was a sh*tty mom.
Today at school they had an "IDENT-A-KID" program visit. It's a great idea. For $10, they take a mug, fingerprint, weigh and measure the kid. Then they put all his information on an identity care to keep in your wallet. That way if, God forbid, you get separated the information will be easy to collect for authorities. We bought a package of four cards... we can each have one, give one to the g-rents and have one for visiting sitters.
Today when I called school to check on my baby, they told me Jack wasn't really interested in providing any sort of cooperation.
In fact I think her exact words were: "He was a stinker."
Each child is required to get his or her picture taken -- it took several tries.
Each child must stand still so they can measure him or her -- it sounds like it took several people to assist on this goal.
Each child must get weighed -- he was not interested at all.
Each child is fingerprinted -- that was the easy part.
Secretly, I am a little happy he decided to show this side of himself because I think those girls just thought I was a sh*tty mom.
30 August 2005
Day XLVII -- 17
Want to say Happy Birthday to Jack's godmother and Aunt. She's officially older than I am (until January) and I know someday I am really going to like that fact.
***
Thanks to generous donations from family, friends and co-workers I am just dollars away from my grand total of $2,100! Great news here! Now I just need to step up on my training. (Get it? Step up? Not funny, I know.)
***
Jack continues to go through the "SCRREEAMING" stage. Hopefully this ends soon because his high-pitched-hasn't-gone-through-puberty-yet screech is slowly destroying everyone around him. Although at school he is apparently an angel who gets all the other kids to play together. Thanks, kid, for saving the best for the 'rents.
Yesterday when I went to school to pick him up, I spotted him playing in the kitchen with the one and two-year-olds. (He isn't permanently in this class yet because he refuses to walk.) There he was standing with only socks on (refused to wear shoes) playing away with plastic fruit. When he noticed me he threw both hands above his head and yelled, "Hiya MA!!"
And I immediatley said back, "Hiya Jack!"
And when I scooped him up, he immediately gave me a quick hug. Then he pushed away to wave furiously to all his little buddies.
Today when Husband dropped himoff, the kid was excited before he even got out of his carseat. He was cheering and clapping as they walked through the door and took off to his friends as soon as they got in the nursey.
Husband has decided Jack likes it there better than home.
***
Thanks to generous donations from family, friends and co-workers I am just dollars away from my grand total of $2,100! Great news here! Now I just need to step up on my training. (Get it? Step up? Not funny, I know.)
***
Jack continues to go through the "SCRREEAMING" stage. Hopefully this ends soon because his high-pitched-hasn't-gone-through-puberty-yet screech is slowly destroying everyone around him. Although at school he is apparently an angel who gets all the other kids to play together. Thanks, kid, for saving the best for the 'rents.
Yesterday when I went to school to pick him up, I spotted him playing in the kitchen with the one and two-year-olds. (He isn't permanently in this class yet because he refuses to walk.) There he was standing with only socks on (refused to wear shoes) playing away with plastic fruit. When he noticed me he threw both hands above his head and yelled, "Hiya MA!!"
And I immediatley said back, "Hiya Jack!"
And when I scooped him up, he immediately gave me a quick hug. Then he pushed away to wave furiously to all his little buddies.
Today when Husband dropped himoff, the kid was excited before he even got out of his carseat. He was cheering and clapping as they walked through the door and took off to his friends as soon as they got in the nursey.
Husband has decided Jack likes it there better than home.
26 August 2005
Day XLVI -- 22
Tonight kicks off a weekend of fast-paced fix-ups... bathroom still needs to be painted, stairs to basement, basement door, kitchen touch-ups, fix two electrical sockets, repair a hole in the wall on the landing... ahhhhh... Thank goodness Ga and Grandma are coming up.
Oh, and we'll be playing "Capture the Cat" so we can sadly put him to sleep. I borrowed my bosses live-trap which I couldn't figure out and had to bring back to work so several co-workers could show me how to set it up. I will be interested to see if the kitty even gets near the contraption.
Jack is liking school more and more it seems. He has so much fun, he's declining on the nap. That makes him a little crabby when he gets home. Last night he took a nap from the time I picked him up at 5:15 p.m. until about 7:30 p.m. That was great. When he woke up he was hungry, wet and confused. Tried to feed him, no go. Tried to change him, that was laughable.
Then a neighbor's door slammed and he got excited. He thought Daddy was home. And when he realized it wasn't Husband, he became a mess and was thrashing around. I decided to stand by the door with him so we could wait and watch. One car pulled in, he began to pant. His lower lip plopped out when he realized it wasn't Dad. Another car in. Not our man.
Just when I thought he couldn't handle it anymore, I saw Husband's black car come around the bend. Jack saw it too.
His face slowly spread into a smile.
He immediately started messing with the screen door trying to get it open, panting in delight.
"Who is it? Who is there, Jackie?"
Squealing from him.
"Is it Daddy?"
"Da-da,'' Jack whispered, eyes glued to the carport. "Da-da."
Husband seemed to be taking his sweet time to come in. He had no clue the trauma his family had been through waiting for him to arrive. We saw his head bob along the top of the carport.
"Da-da,'' Jack said a little louder, smiling.
Husband came around the carport and started heading to our porch.
"DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDDDDAAAAAAAAAAA!!" He screamed out the screen.
"Hi, Buddy!" Husband called back.
Jack pressed his face up to the screen and watched his dad walk up the porch. When Husband opened the door, he shrieked in delight.
"Hi!!" Husband said reaching for his only son. "Can I have a hug?"
Jack leaned in to let Husband hold him. Just as Husband was putting his hands out, Jack quickly whipped around and squeezed my neck, burying his head in my neck. Peeking at me once and smiling.
Stinker.
Oh, and we'll be playing "Capture the Cat" so we can sadly put him to sleep. I borrowed my bosses live-trap which I couldn't figure out and had to bring back to work so several co-workers could show me how to set it up. I will be interested to see if the kitty even gets near the contraption.
Jack is liking school more and more it seems. He has so much fun, he's declining on the nap. That makes him a little crabby when he gets home. Last night he took a nap from the time I picked him up at 5:15 p.m. until about 7:30 p.m. That was great. When he woke up he was hungry, wet and confused. Tried to feed him, no go. Tried to change him, that was laughable.
Then a neighbor's door slammed and he got excited. He thought Daddy was home. And when he realized it wasn't Husband, he became a mess and was thrashing around. I decided to stand by the door with him so we could wait and watch. One car pulled in, he began to pant. His lower lip plopped out when he realized it wasn't Dad. Another car in. Not our man.
Just when I thought he couldn't handle it anymore, I saw Husband's black car come around the bend. Jack saw it too.
His face slowly spread into a smile.
He immediately started messing with the screen door trying to get it open, panting in delight.
"Who is it? Who is there, Jackie?"
Squealing from him.
"Is it Daddy?"
"Da-da,'' Jack whispered, eyes glued to the carport. "Da-da."
Husband seemed to be taking his sweet time to come in. He had no clue the trauma his family had been through waiting for him to arrive. We saw his head bob along the top of the carport.
"Da-da,'' Jack said a little louder, smiling.
Husband came around the carport and started heading to our porch.
"DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDDDDDDAAAAAAAAAAA!!" He screamed out the screen.
"Hi, Buddy!" Husband called back.
Jack pressed his face up to the screen and watched his dad walk up the porch. When Husband opened the door, he shrieked in delight.
"Hi!!" Husband said reaching for his only son. "Can I have a hug?"
Jack leaned in to let Husband hold him. Just as Husband was putting his hands out, Jack quickly whipped around and squeezed my neck, burying his head in my neck. Peeking at me once and smiling.
Stinker.
24 August 2005
Day XLV -- 23
Apparently Jack is the class clown. His teachers tell me that he will do anything to get the other kids to laugh. And when the babies cry, he takes it upon himself to calm them down. Every person I have shared this bit of info with have had the same reaction, "Gosh, I'd love to see that!"
Today was his first full day at his little school. Between football season and the book, Husband needs at least one complete day without the child. As it is, he's planning to stay at work until 1:30 a.m. for the second night in a row. He's been up and working since we left at 7:30 a.m.
I am very torn about this decision to put Jack in all day -- even if it is for only one day. I declared before having him that I never wanted a daycare kid. And even though they have a steady curriculum and he usually only goes for half days, I still worry. I debated hiring a in home nanny-type for one day a week now that both sitters we used this sumer are going back to school but do I really want some stranger taking care of him? Of course the girls at his school were strangers six months ago. Would it be better for him to be home all day (sitting around or watching his tapes) or playing with other kids (and being exposed to dirt and germs)?
I hope we are making the right decision.
Today was his first full day at his little school. Between football season and the book, Husband needs at least one complete day without the child. As it is, he's planning to stay at work until 1:30 a.m. for the second night in a row. He's been up and working since we left at 7:30 a.m.
I am very torn about this decision to put Jack in all day -- even if it is for only one day. I declared before having him that I never wanted a daycare kid. And even though they have a steady curriculum and he usually only goes for half days, I still worry. I debated hiring a in home nanny-type for one day a week now that both sitters we used this sumer are going back to school but do I really want some stranger taking care of him? Of course the girls at his school were strangers six months ago. Would it be better for him to be home all day (sitting around or watching his tapes) or playing with other kids (and being exposed to dirt and germs)?
I hope we are making the right decision.
22 August 2005
Day XLIV -- 25
As my life gets messier and crazier, the blog gets shorter and less creative. Deal.
Jack is continuing to prove to be a gem/hurricane.
Last night around 3 a.m. he decided it was time to get up and play for the day. In my stupidity, and delirium from walking 15 miles yesterday, I thought a quick snuggle with what used to be "the magic hold" would send him quickly to sleep. I told Husband to go back to sleep and I would take care of it.
At 4 a.m., Jackson was taken downstairs to get him away from pulling my hair, poking my eyes, smooshing my cheeks together as he attempted to kiss me(but it's really more like biting) and singing in my ear.
At 6 a.m. I woke up to find Husband was not in bed and Jackie was not in his bed either. I stumbled downstairs because 1) my vision is poor and 2) my body is poor to find them both spread out on the loveseat snoring in rhythm. In another moment in time I may have found the whole scene heartwarming. This morning? Not so much.
I had 45 minutes that I fully intended to spread to a full hour and 15. Luckily, I had showered the night before and my clothes were already laid out. That gave me even more time. After hitting snooze for about 11 times, I snuck outta there quickly the boys sleeping in the bed.
At 9 a.m. Husband called. Jack got up at 8 a.m.
We both agreed today at lunch: caffeine isn't a strong enough stimulant.
Hey, did I tell you that I just bought a house and I need to sell mine by Sept. 30? Funny, don't you think? And did you know that Husband starts traveling next month and I have two out-of-town conferences and a 60 mile walk?
Really looking forward to my 7.5er tonight. REAL excited.
Jack is continuing to prove to be a gem/hurricane.
Last night around 3 a.m. he decided it was time to get up and play for the day. In my stupidity, and delirium from walking 15 miles yesterday, I thought a quick snuggle with what used to be "the magic hold" would send him quickly to sleep. I told Husband to go back to sleep and I would take care of it.
At 4 a.m., Jackson was taken downstairs to get him away from pulling my hair, poking my eyes, smooshing my cheeks together as he attempted to kiss me(but it's really more like biting) and singing in my ear.
At 6 a.m. I woke up to find Husband was not in bed and Jackie was not in his bed either. I stumbled downstairs because 1) my vision is poor and 2) my body is poor to find them both spread out on the loveseat snoring in rhythm. In another moment in time I may have found the whole scene heartwarming. This morning? Not so much.
I had 45 minutes that I fully intended to spread to a full hour and 15. Luckily, I had showered the night before and my clothes were already laid out. That gave me even more time. After hitting snooze for about 11 times, I snuck outta there quickly the boys sleeping in the bed.
At 9 a.m. Husband called. Jack got up at 8 a.m.
We both agreed today at lunch: caffeine isn't a strong enough stimulant.
Hey, did I tell you that I just bought a house and I need to sell mine by Sept. 30? Funny, don't you think? And did you know that Husband starts traveling next month and I have two out-of-town conferences and a 60 mile walk?
Really looking forward to my 7.5er tonight. REAL excited.
19 August 2005
Day XLIII -- 28 days
So why did we think buying a house (oh, 'cause it's bought pending the sale of our current house) just before football season when Husband is also writing a book, the babysitters are back in school, I'm working full-time, I have my walk and two conferences in September and we still have many projects to complete was a good idea? Just wondering.
Guess this nixes my trip to C-town this weekend. Grreat! Responsibilities ROCK!
I hope Jack is ready for three months of hustle bustle and clearing everything out and just plain old craziness. I think he'll appreciate all our hard work next spring and summer when he's just a few yards from a lake and huge park. That's what has to motivate me.
Cleaning, trashing, painting, trashing, clearing, cleaning. Anyone want to come visit? May have some things you could help me with...
18 August 2005
Day XLII -- 29 days
So we put a bid on the house. We of course low-balled which makes me nervous. They called last night to say they needed a night to sleep on it. I hope they get back to us soon so I don't have to think about it all day.
Friends from LA made an appearance in the H last night. We went to the Blue Gill Grill which is never a disappointment. I was walking around the lake when they arrived so I never got to go home and change before going to dinner. Fairly disgusting, I know.
Jack did well on the walk -- mostly because he was entertained by the passing cars and the water. It was only 4.5 miles so he didn't get too frustrated. He just laid back and munched on cheese and crackers as we huffed and puffed.
Lately he hasn't been doing as well in restaurants. Once you put him in the high chair he feels he immediately needs to clear the table tossing the menus and utensils down onto the floor. He may then bang his hands down for a while and howl -- just for the hell of it. Last night was no exception. I found myself juggling him until the waitress could get a fresh glass of milk to refill his bottle. I felt like an ass as I tried to rationalize with a 1-year-old about why it wasn't necessary to scream at a piercing pitch and then laugh when I sushed him.
So I am desperate to entertain him in these situations.
I have discovered that he's really trying to curl his tongue. (And thankfully he can't practice and scream at the same time.) He really studies me when I do it. You can see his brain trying to send the directions to his mouth. His face gets serious. He furrows his brow and his little baby tongue works at it. So far, it's not happening. He ends up just wiggling it around and then laughing.
Another new and a exciting game we play around here is reverse "peek-a-boo". These days he likes to cover his eyes with the back of his hands until one of us notices. (Last night in our chatter, those little hands were hanging for a while.)
Then we make a big deal with, "Where's Jackie? Whhhhhere's Jackie?"
His arms shoot down. "There he is!"
Laughter around.
Now repeat. And repeat. And repeat.
Friends from LA made an appearance in the H last night. We went to the Blue Gill Grill which is never a disappointment. I was walking around the lake when they arrived so I never got to go home and change before going to dinner. Fairly disgusting, I know.
Jack did well on the walk -- mostly because he was entertained by the passing cars and the water. It was only 4.5 miles so he didn't get too frustrated. He just laid back and munched on cheese and crackers as we huffed and puffed.
Lately he hasn't been doing as well in restaurants. Once you put him in the high chair he feels he immediately needs to clear the table tossing the menus and utensils down onto the floor. He may then bang his hands down for a while and howl -- just for the hell of it. Last night was no exception. I found myself juggling him until the waitress could get a fresh glass of milk to refill his bottle. I felt like an ass as I tried to rationalize with a 1-year-old about why it wasn't necessary to scream at a piercing pitch and then laugh when I sushed him.
So I am desperate to entertain him in these situations.
I have discovered that he's really trying to curl his tongue. (And thankfully he can't practice and scream at the same time.) He really studies me when I do it. You can see his brain trying to send the directions to his mouth. His face gets serious. He furrows his brow and his little baby tongue works at it. So far, it's not happening. He ends up just wiggling it around and then laughing.
Another new and a exciting game we play around here is reverse "peek-a-boo". These days he likes to cover his eyes with the back of his hands until one of us notices. (Last night in our chatter, those little hands were hanging for a while.)
Then we make a big deal with, "Where's Jackie? Whhhhhere's Jackie?"
His arms shoot down. "There he is!"
Laughter around.
Now repeat. And repeat. And repeat.
16 August 2005
Day XLI -- 31 days until 3 Day
My cancer walk is only a month away now. I still need about $700! I am training my buns off. Jack no longer likes going for a walk.
Mom and Dad are coming up again to go through the latest house we found. It's a tad smaller than what we want but a hop-skip from the lake which would be pretty awesome. I am sure there's something wrong with it. Our ignorant eyes never seem to notice things like a faulty foundation, huge cracks in the ceiling, a leaky basement. But I could tell you what color the room is painted! This will be the third house in two weeks they have driven from D-town to review. Cross your fingers!
Jack is out-of-control with the hating on the sitters. Today when Husband dropped him off at his little school, he freaked out again. I don't know what to do. He's never like that! He usually loves his teacher more than us.
Lately he is only happy when it's just me, Daddy and him. He doesn't like us to ever leave the room and doesn't want any visitors.
Ba hum-bug.
Mom and Dad are coming up again to go through the latest house we found. It's a tad smaller than what we want but a hop-skip from the lake which would be pretty awesome. I am sure there's something wrong with it. Our ignorant eyes never seem to notice things like a faulty foundation, huge cracks in the ceiling, a leaky basement. But I could tell you what color the room is painted! This will be the third house in two weeks they have driven from D-town to review. Cross your fingers!
Jack is out-of-control with the hating on the sitters. Today when Husband dropped him off at his little school, he freaked out again. I don't know what to do. He's never like that! He usually loves his teacher more than us.
Lately he is only happy when it's just me, Daddy and him. He doesn't like us to ever leave the room and doesn't want any visitors.
Ba hum-bug.
15 August 2005
Day XL
This is a candid from Jack's photo shoot the other day. Notice how full his mouth is and then look at his left hand. And it seems he's going for more with the right.He blatantly thinks no one is watching and you can tell he's grabbing quickly.
Very tired. Weekend consisted of walking more than 15 miles Saturday and seven miles Sunday; house hunting; organizing to move. New baby update: Jack now hates babysitters. Hysterically hates. Screams bloody murder.
12 August 2005
Day XXXIX
Today I went home for a while to try to get the cat in his cage to take him to the vet to put put to sleep. I was already upset about it but I don't know what else to do -- we can't find anyone to take him.
So tell me, how many people does it take to get a fat cat in his carrier?
Apparently more than three adults and one baby. The cat now remains a troll in the basement. If
anyone wants him please shoot me an email because otherwise we are calling animal control... I am not joking either.
While I waited for Husband to take a supposedly quick shower so he could help me, I had a chance to sit back and really watch Jack play. It's amazing to me to see how much his fine motor skills have improved and how observant he is now.
His godparents/aunt&uncle got him this contraption that involves balls, a maze, and a small motor that blows the ball around for his first birthday. He loves it. The toy has several balls that it came with and Jack will not hit it to go until he has all the balls.
I watched him gather them all -- under the kitchen table, in the toy box, under the couch, under the chair -- and diligently drop each one in. He'd slam down the start button, laugh and cheer as they blew back and around the maze. He'd then begin the process again. (In the middle of this all he noticed the wipe box was open so he made sure to stop and click it closed.)
After watching him for a while, I noticed that he'd forgotten the orange ball. Everytime he was refilling the ammunition on his toy, he'd not include the orange ball. So, I got down on the floor with him and tried to show him his mistake. He ignored me and continued to reload the machine with the other balls. I handed him the orange one and he tossed it away. I couldn't understand why he didn't want the ball. Then I realized. It wasn't a ball that came with the toy. It was a ball to one of his walkers. Very smart.
I figured, who cares if it's not the right ball? It would still be fun. So I tried to put in the machine. He shook his head no and grunted.
Guess what? It didn't fit.
So tell me, how many people does it take to get a fat cat in his carrier?
Apparently more than three adults and one baby. The cat now remains a troll in the basement. If
anyone wants him please shoot me an email because otherwise we are calling animal control... I am not joking either.
While I waited for Husband to take a supposedly quick shower so he could help me, I had a chance to sit back and really watch Jack play. It's amazing to me to see how much his fine motor skills have improved and how observant he is now.
His godparents/aunt&uncle got him this contraption that involves balls, a maze, and a small motor that blows the ball around for his first birthday. He loves it. The toy has several balls that it came with and Jack will not hit it to go until he has all the balls.
I watched him gather them all -- under the kitchen table, in the toy box, under the couch, under the chair -- and diligently drop each one in. He'd slam down the start button, laugh and cheer as they blew back and around the maze. He'd then begin the process again. (In the middle of this all he noticed the wipe box was open so he made sure to stop and click it closed.)
After watching him for a while, I noticed that he'd forgotten the orange ball. Everytime he was refilling the ammunition on his toy, he'd not include the orange ball. So, I got down on the floor with him and tried to show him his mistake. He ignored me and continued to reload the machine with the other balls. I handed him the orange one and he tossed it away. I couldn't understand why he didn't want the ball. Then I realized. It wasn't a ball that came with the toy. It was a ball to one of his walkers. Very smart.
I figured, who cares if it's not the right ball? It would still be fun. So I tried to put in the machine. He shook his head no and grunted.
Guess what? It didn't fit.
10 August 2005
Day XXXVIII
Jack and I spent the morning at a photo shoot for a carpet cleaning website.
Need I say more?
Need I say more?
09 August 2005
Day XXXVII
Since starting JWJ, I have received a fair amount of feedback. Some say it's hilarious and cute, some offer funny stories about The Kid, some bitch if I don't fulfill my daily entry.
Thanks for the encouragement. Thanks for the recaps. Let's nix the crabbiness.
Here's a story from my mom:
She's noticed that Jack's all about making sure things are in the proper place. If the lid of the wipes are open, he'll stop what he's doing to shut it. If something that has a lid isn't covered, he'll cover it.
Last week she watched J for us with my grandpa. The two boys were on the floor playing with oversize pop-beads and foam blocks. G-Grandpa started to clean the toys up when they were finished and accidently mixed the beads in the block container. Jack quickly noticed and fished out those items that weren't supposed to be there and put them in the correct container.
To follow that:
Last night while he was toddling around with his pops, he noticed a loose battery on the floor. So he grabbed a remote control and put the battery in the right spot.
Now that's genius.
Sleep update:
I will swear by Spock until the day I die. The kid has slept in his bed since I found that article online. Apparently it clicked for all of us -- even Husband who now realizes it's OK for Jack to cry for 30 seconds. (That's what it's down to... 30 tops. Mostly he just rolls over and sighs.)
Thanks for the encouragement. Thanks for the recaps. Let's nix the crabbiness.
Here's a story from my mom:
She's noticed that Jack's all about making sure things are in the proper place. If the lid of the wipes are open, he'll stop what he's doing to shut it. If something that has a lid isn't covered, he'll cover it.
Last week she watched J for us with my grandpa. The two boys were on the floor playing with oversize pop-beads and foam blocks. G-Grandpa started to clean the toys up when they were finished and accidently mixed the beads in the block container. Jack quickly noticed and fished out those items that weren't supposed to be there and put them in the correct container.
To follow that:
Last night while he was toddling around with his pops, he noticed a loose battery on the floor. So he grabbed a remote control and put the battery in the right spot.
Now that's genius.
Sleep update:
I will swear by Spock until the day I die. The kid has slept in his bed since I found that article online. Apparently it clicked for all of us -- even Husband who now realizes it's OK for Jack to cry for 30 seconds. (That's what it's down to... 30 tops. Mostly he just rolls over and sighs.)
08 August 2005
Day XXXVI
After almost two weeks of jetting around the state and extended family, I think everyone at my house is beat. We got back from K-Zoo last night and immediately flopped in the family room and just sat.
Even Hurricane didn't feel much for playing. He'd spent the weekend with his 8-year-old cousin dancing and pushing buttons all over the house. He's been entertaining many generations of family for a while and he was pooped.
All he wanted was to sit in the chair with me and flip channels. Every once in a while he'd sigh and smile at Husband and then at me and then back at Daddy.
We all agreed it was great to see everyone but getting back into routine sounded good. (I assumed Jack agreed by the content sighs and smiles.)
And just when we think life will get back to normal, we've decided to house hunt seriously. Why do we do this to ourselves?
Even Hurricane didn't feel much for playing. He'd spent the weekend with his 8-year-old cousin dancing and pushing buttons all over the house. He's been entertaining many generations of family for a while and he was pooped.
All he wanted was to sit in the chair with me and flip channels. Every once in a while he'd sigh and smile at Husband and then at me and then back at Daddy.
We all agreed it was great to see everyone but getting back into routine sounded good. (I assumed Jack agreed by the content sighs and smiles.)
And just when we think life will get back to normal, we've decided to house hunt seriously. Why do we do this to ourselves?
04 August 2005
Day XXXV
I know I've talked about the dancing. I've discussed the actual moves. I've discussed his preferred music. But did you know that no matter what he's doing -- laughing, crying, playing, reading his books, breaking stuff -- he will pause for music?
Last night he was in a rigous game of tag/hide-n-seek with his grandmother when that I-POD commerical came on. I'm sure you've seen it. It's black and green and has a bunch of kids rollerskating to hip-hop dance music.
The moment before it started, Jackson was flying around and around the coffee table (slammed his head twice by the way). He was laughing and cheering but when the song started he literally put his hand out toward his grandma as if to stop her, quickly got into position and started jamming. When the commerical was over, he went back to chasing as if nothing had happened.
Hilarious.
Last night he was in a rigous game of tag/hide-n-seek with his grandmother when that I-POD commerical came on. I'm sure you've seen it. It's black and green and has a bunch of kids rollerskating to hip-hop dance music.
The moment before it started, Jackson was flying around and around the coffee table (slammed his head twice by the way). He was laughing and cheering but when the song started he literally put his hand out toward his grandma as if to stop her, quickly got into position and started jamming. When the commerical was over, he went back to chasing as if nothing had happened.
Hilarious.
03 August 2005
Day XXXV
Jack and I fell asleep on the couch last night. When I woke up at 4 a.m. the house was dark. I walked upstairs to find both my boys safely tucked in each of his beds -- each with the same facial expression.
It felt good to have everyone safe at home.
It felt good to have everyone safe at home.
02 August 2005
Day XXXIV
Is it Friday yet?
I have driven to the D too many times in three days. Jack is at the G-'rents and I have been commuting back and forth the last few days rather than just leave him there all week. The good news is that Husband is coming home from his Chicago conference today. The bad news is I still may have to drive down there again because he may not be home until late.
Jack reigns king at their much, much bigger palace so he just may be a wee bit disappointed to come home to reality in our teeny townhouse.
Don't worry about poor little Jack though this weekend will be spent in K-Zoo with Husband's family.
Hopefully I will get sometime to do laundry between now and then. I need a vacation from this summer.
New development from the weekend: "Ga"
Meet my dad now referred to as "Ga" -- loudly and often.
Go to the 'rents house and you will see a one-year-old shrieking in delight everytime "Ga" enters the room and breaking down into hysteria if Ga has the audacity to go potty. He chases after him if he leaves the room.
"GA-GA-GA"
I know it sounds like I am making something out of baby talk but I have witnesses. You ask Jackie where "Ga" is and his little index finger points right at my dad.
Mom and I tested him too many times apparently because yesterday he sighed and rolled his eyes when we asked and then leaned into Ga to take him away.
I have driven to the D too many times in three days. Jack is at the G-'rents and I have been commuting back and forth the last few days rather than just leave him there all week. The good news is that Husband is coming home from his Chicago conference today. The bad news is I still may have to drive down there again because he may not be home until late.
Jack reigns king at their much, much bigger palace so he just may be a wee bit disappointed to come home to reality in our teeny townhouse.
Don't worry about poor little Jack though this weekend will be spent in K-Zoo with Husband's family.
Hopefully I will get sometime to do laundry between now and then. I need a vacation from this summer.
New development from the weekend: "Ga"
Meet my dad now referred to as "Ga" -- loudly and often.
Go to the 'rents house and you will see a one-year-old shrieking in delight everytime "Ga" enters the room and breaking down into hysteria if Ga has the audacity to go potty. He chases after him if he leaves the room.
"GA-GA-GA"
I know it sounds like I am making something out of baby talk but I have witnesses. You ask Jackie where "Ga" is and his little index finger points right at my dad.
Mom and I tested him too many times apparently because yesterday he sighed and rolled his eyes when we asked and then leaned into Ga to take him away.
01 August 2005
Day XXXIII
It’s been four days since I last wrote. For the people who read this (or person) sorry for the delay but as you know, it’s been a Jack jubilee all weekend. In fact so much went on that driving back this morning I wasn’t sure how I was going to cram everything into one little entry.
But really, past the pizza and fist in cake scene everyone knows what happens at a birthday party. Screaming kids, too much food, maybe a little bochi ball and wham it’s over.
Last night, as the AARP crowd (me included) all tried to recover from the whirlwind, Jack finally had a chance to realize he got tons of great new stuff. He was putting on a show for the Colorado family, great-grandpa and grandparents and his Mama. He was singing; he was dancing; he was throwing balls and building legos and just being Jack.
Eventually my Grandpa got up to go to bed. The instant he his hand fluffed my Jackie's cornsilk hair we all realized that 80 years spanned between them. And I think we were all shocked by the realization. Grandpa has lived an incredibly full life and is still going strong. My little son has so much to experience. It was an unexpectedly amazing moment.
“I wonder what Jack will experience in the next 80 years,” my dad said to no one in particular. “I wish I could be there to watch it.’’
I thought about what my dad said all night and into my trek back to work at 6 a.m. this morning.
I thought about my grandpa’s life so far and how incredible it has been. And I wondered how similar their lives will be.
Will Jackie have to go to a foreign land as a teenager and risk his life to protect his country?
Will he marry the love of his life and stay loyal to her more than a decade after she passes away?
Will he have children? Will he experience the tremendous loss of losing a daughter and the immense joy of watching his living children have children and those children have children?
Will there be inventions that change the face of society like: cars, commercial airplanes, microwaves, televisions, VCRs, CDs, and COMPUTERS? I can’t even comprehend how much more advanced life will be for him.
Will he realize the power of having faith? Will he carry our family traditions at Easter and Christmas and incorporate Christian holidays into massive family festivities?
As I’ve realized what is ahead for him, a wave of emotion has tidal waved over me. And I have been caught in it all day.
I’m so excited to watch him grow and develop and make decisions and be his own person. (One down, 90 plus to go.) I am can’t wait for all the sporting events, homework, school dances, girls, college years, his wedding, his babies.
I’m already missing him as a baby.
I’m so frightened for him and what he will face and the future pain he will experience. I couldn’t imagine surviving should anything tragic ever happen to him and I can’t imagine being a mother of a solider at war.
I’ve been sad knowing that I won’t always be there. My dad saying he wished he could be there as Jack grows old really struck a cord with me. I won’t meet his great-grandchildren. I won’t be there when his grandson screams in delight just at the sight of him like he does now with Dad.
I guess all I can do is swim parallel to the beach.
***
On a side note: Thank you notes from the party will be slightly delayed because I am waiting for something extra special to send to all of you. They should be in your mailboxes within the next 2.5 weeks. Thank you all for your love and support to my Jackie. He is a very, very lucky boy
But really, past the pizza and fist in cake scene everyone knows what happens at a birthday party. Screaming kids, too much food, maybe a little bochi ball and wham it’s over.
Last night, as the AARP crowd (me included) all tried to recover from the whirlwind, Jack finally had a chance to realize he got tons of great new stuff. He was putting on a show for the Colorado family, great-grandpa and grandparents and his Mama. He was singing; he was dancing; he was throwing balls and building legos and just being Jack.
Eventually my Grandpa got up to go to bed. The instant he his hand fluffed my Jackie's cornsilk hair we all realized that 80 years spanned between them. And I think we were all shocked by the realization. Grandpa has lived an incredibly full life and is still going strong. My little son has so much to experience. It was an unexpectedly amazing moment.
“I wonder what Jack will experience in the next 80 years,” my dad said to no one in particular. “I wish I could be there to watch it.’’
I thought about what my dad said all night and into my trek back to work at 6 a.m. this morning.
I thought about my grandpa’s life so far and how incredible it has been. And I wondered how similar their lives will be.
Will Jackie have to go to a foreign land as a teenager and risk his life to protect his country?
Will he marry the love of his life and stay loyal to her more than a decade after she passes away?
Will he have children? Will he experience the tremendous loss of losing a daughter and the immense joy of watching his living children have children and those children have children?
Will there be inventions that change the face of society like: cars, commercial airplanes, microwaves, televisions, VCRs, CDs, and COMPUTERS? I can’t even comprehend how much more advanced life will be for him.
Will he realize the power of having faith? Will he carry our family traditions at Easter and Christmas and incorporate Christian holidays into massive family festivities?
As I’ve realized what is ahead for him, a wave of emotion has tidal waved over me. And I have been caught in it all day.
I’m so excited to watch him grow and develop and make decisions and be his own person. (One down, 90 plus to go.) I am can’t wait for all the sporting events, homework, school dances, girls, college years, his wedding, his babies.
I’m already missing him as a baby.
I’m so frightened for him and what he will face and the future pain he will experience. I couldn’t imagine surviving should anything tragic ever happen to him and I can’t imagine being a mother of a solider at war.
I’ve been sad knowing that I won’t always be there. My dad saying he wished he could be there as Jack grows old really struck a cord with me. I won’t meet his great-grandchildren. I won’t be there when his grandson screams in delight just at the sight of him like he does now with Dad.
I guess all I can do is swim parallel to the beach.
***
On a side note: Thank you notes from the party will be slightly delayed because I am waiting for something extra special to send to all of you. They should be in your mailboxes within the next 2.5 weeks. Thank you all for your love and support to my Jackie. He is a very, very lucky boy
27 July 2005
Day XXXII -- 3 (not even close to being ready...)
Spock knows all.
Jack fell asleep on the couch during our favorite show, Big Brother. We waited about 30 minutes. We debated. I was committed to Spock's speak and encouraged Husband to put him in his crib. We decided to wait until the show was over.
Guess what? Jackie woke up the second his face felt the sheets. I tried not to let it bother me.
Instead, I went back to scrapping the layers and layers of crappy wallpaper in the downstairs bathroom (don't even talk about it).
At the time we put him down, Husband hadn't had the chance to read my entry from yesterday. He wasn't as confident in our decision to put Jack in his own bed. After about 5 minutes of Jack's tears, I heard him clomp downstairs to log on to his computer. He needed some encouragement from the Spock.
I stayed focused on my scrapping. Who invented wallpaper? I'd like to have a little chat with that genius. Jack was slowing down by this point and truthfully, I wasn't a believer in the Spock wisdom just yet.
Husband came into the bathroom after reading the article. He was shocked at how close to home Benjamin had been with our situation. He finally agreed we were doing the right thing.
I went back to scrapping. (By the way, my fingers are stiff right now. My arm stings from a lightbulb burn. And I can't shake the smell of the chemical I used to remove the paper.) Why did I think it was a good idea to start this project the Sunday before the in-laws were coming and we were going to T-town? Not sure. Really not sure. I have only hated the paper for three years.
There was a knock at the door.
"He's stopped crying,'' Husband said panicked.
"Yes,'' I replied, still scrapping. "Wasn't that the point?"
"But I think I should go check on him, what if he's hurt?"
"He's not hurt. Spock warned us about this mistake. Just hold tight. He's fine.''
I shut the door.
At this point I realized I couldn't trust that Husband wouldn't try to go upstairs. My scrapping slowed down for a while so I could spy on his activities. Just as I had begun to tackle the project again at a vigorous pace, he knocked on the bathroom door.
"I just checked on him." He said sheepishly.
"What?!"
"I just had to make sure he wasn't hurt,'' he said. "Guess what? He was sleeping!"
We were both astounded.
He stayed in bed until about 7:30 a.m. at which he climbed into bed with his daddy for a morning cuddle and bottle and slept until 10. Who knew?
(Interesting side note --
So we haven't been sleeping well because the kid keeps us up all night, right?So it makes a lot of sense that we stayed up past 1 a.m. the one night he slept in his bed -- me: scrapping; Husband:working on his book --doesn't it? One word -- morons.)
Jack fell asleep on the couch during our favorite show, Big Brother. We waited about 30 minutes. We debated. I was committed to Spock's speak and encouraged Husband to put him in his crib. We decided to wait until the show was over.
Guess what? Jackie woke up the second his face felt the sheets. I tried not to let it bother me.
Instead, I went back to scrapping the layers and layers of crappy wallpaper in the downstairs bathroom (don't even talk about it).
At the time we put him down, Husband hadn't had the chance to read my entry from yesterday. He wasn't as confident in our decision to put Jack in his own bed. After about 5 minutes of Jack's tears, I heard him clomp downstairs to log on to his computer. He needed some encouragement from the Spock.
I stayed focused on my scrapping. Who invented wallpaper? I'd like to have a little chat with that genius. Jack was slowing down by this point and truthfully, I wasn't a believer in the Spock wisdom just yet.
Husband came into the bathroom after reading the article. He was shocked at how close to home Benjamin had been with our situation. He finally agreed we were doing the right thing.
I went back to scrapping. (By the way, my fingers are stiff right now. My arm stings from a lightbulb burn. And I can't shake the smell of the chemical I used to remove the paper.) Why did I think it was a good idea to start this project the Sunday before the in-laws were coming and we were going to T-town? Not sure. Really not sure. I have only hated the paper for three years.
There was a knock at the door.
"He's stopped crying,'' Husband said panicked.
"Yes,'' I replied, still scrapping. "Wasn't that the point?"
"But I think I should go check on him, what if he's hurt?"
"He's not hurt. Spock warned us about this mistake. Just hold tight. He's fine.''
I shut the door.
At this point I realized I couldn't trust that Husband wouldn't try to go upstairs. My scrapping slowed down for a while so I could spy on his activities. Just as I had begun to tackle the project again at a vigorous pace, he knocked on the bathroom door.
"I just checked on him." He said sheepishly.
"What?!"
"I just had to make sure he wasn't hurt,'' he said. "Guess what? He was sleeping!"
We were both astounded.
He stayed in bed until about 7:30 a.m. at which he climbed into bed with his daddy for a morning cuddle and bottle and slept until 10. Who knew?
(Interesting side note --
So we haven't been sleeping well because the kid keeps us up all night, right?So it makes a lot of sense that we stayed up past 1 a.m. the one night he slept in his bed -- me: scrapping; Husband:working on his book --doesn't it? One word -- morons.)
26 July 2005
Day XXXI -- 4
I’d like to tell to all new parents two important tips:
1. Don’t let your baby sleep in the bed with you – ever.
2. Don’t let your baby sleep in your room for the first eight months of his life.
It’s really bad. Jack won’t even go in his bedroom to play without shouting out. I know it’s our fault. We don’t make him do anything. We will bend over backwards to keep him to stop crying. But I think I have finally reached the end of my rope. I would like to be able to sleep. I mean it’s been more than a year!
I decided to look online at the Dr. Benjamin Spock website. The Dr. Spock book was a regular reference for my parents so I figured surely he’d have the answer to our sleeping dilemma… right? Right? Help me Spock!
Here’s his brilliant solution:
"…The habit is usually easy to break once the parents realize that it is as bad for the baby as it is for them. The cure is simple: Put the baby to bed at a reasonable hour, say good night affectionately but firmly, walk out of the room, and don't go back. Most babies who have developed this pattern will cry furiously for 20 or 30 minutes the first night, and then when nothing happens, they suddenly fall asleep! The second night the crying is apt to last only 10 minutes. The third night there usually isn't any at all…”
Oh? Is that all we have to do? Excellent. Why didn’t we think of that? Not impressed, Spock.
The next part of the article scared me. We may be destined to have a third in our bed until 2021.
“…By four to six months of age, a baby who is otherwise healthy ought to be able to learn this skill. By putting her down to sleep before she is fully asleep, you are giving her a chance to take an important step toward self-control and independence. Most of the time, this learning process is easy…’’
By four to six months? What the?
And then this. I nearly fell out of my chair. It’s like Spock was directly talking about us. (Mostly Husband.)
“…Don't start unless you are confident in your ability to see it through to the end. The worst of these problems comes about when well-meaning parents let a child cry for 15 or 20 minutes or more, then go in and "rescue" the child by picking her up and cuddling until she finally settles down. The next night, the child cries for 20 or 30 minutes. If she is then rescued again, she may cry for 40 to 60 minutes the next night. The only lesson a parent teaches using this method is that if the child cries long enough, the parent will come to the rescue. Ironically, the problem is only made worse when parents are tough most of the time, but give in on occasion (when they're simply too exhausted to deal with the crying, for example). The child then learns that there is a chance that her crying will be rewarded. The result? She keeps at the crying for days and days, even after the parent stops going in. When a child has learned to persist in bedtime crying, it can take many days, or even a week or more, to unlearn the habit. So, before you decide to tackle your child's sleep-resistance crying, make sure that you are prepared to carry the plan through. However, in the case of a healthy 6- to 24-month-old child who has developed a habit of bedtime resistance with crying and tantrums, the quickest and surest way to deal with the problem is to stop rewarding the crying with extra attention.
If you have made one or two attempts to deal with the problem without success, you might want to seek professional guidance. This problem can be very wearing on parents and the whole family, so it make professional guidance."
Professional guidance? Great! Just what I want to do. Let's go to the doctor and tell her we did exactly what she warned us against.
I pledge right now that when Baby #2 comes around (don't get excited there are no plans for a second child right now) I will be tough. There will be no sleeping in my bed.
Yeah, right.
1. Don’t let your baby sleep in the bed with you – ever.
2. Don’t let your baby sleep in your room for the first eight months of his life.
It’s really bad. Jack won’t even go in his bedroom to play without shouting out. I know it’s our fault. We don’t make him do anything. We will bend over backwards to keep him to stop crying. But I think I have finally reached the end of my rope. I would like to be able to sleep. I mean it’s been more than a year!
I decided to look online at the Dr. Benjamin Spock website. The Dr. Spock book was a regular reference for my parents so I figured surely he’d have the answer to our sleeping dilemma… right? Right? Help me Spock!
Here’s his brilliant solution:
"…The habit is usually easy to break once the parents realize that it is as bad for the baby as it is for them. The cure is simple: Put the baby to bed at a reasonable hour, say good night affectionately but firmly, walk out of the room, and don't go back. Most babies who have developed this pattern will cry furiously for 20 or 30 minutes the first night, and then when nothing happens, they suddenly fall asleep! The second night the crying is apt to last only 10 minutes. The third night there usually isn't any at all…”
Oh? Is that all we have to do? Excellent. Why didn’t we think of that? Not impressed, Spock.
The next part of the article scared me. We may be destined to have a third in our bed until 2021.
“…By four to six months of age, a baby who is otherwise healthy ought to be able to learn this skill. By putting her down to sleep before she is fully asleep, you are giving her a chance to take an important step toward self-control and independence. Most of the time, this learning process is easy…’’
By four to six months? What the?
And then this. I nearly fell out of my chair. It’s like Spock was directly talking about us. (Mostly Husband.)
“…Don't start unless you are confident in your ability to see it through to the end. The worst of these problems comes about when well-meaning parents let a child cry for 15 or 20 minutes or more, then go in and "rescue" the child by picking her up and cuddling until she finally settles down. The next night, the child cries for 20 or 30 minutes. If she is then rescued again, she may cry for 40 to 60 minutes the next night. The only lesson a parent teaches using this method is that if the child cries long enough, the parent will come to the rescue. Ironically, the problem is only made worse when parents are tough most of the time, but give in on occasion (when they're simply too exhausted to deal with the crying, for example). The child then learns that there is a chance that her crying will be rewarded. The result? She keeps at the crying for days and days, even after the parent stops going in. When a child has learned to persist in bedtime crying, it can take many days, or even a week or more, to unlearn the habit. So, before you decide to tackle your child's sleep-resistance crying, make sure that you are prepared to carry the plan through. However, in the case of a healthy 6- to 24-month-old child who has developed a habit of bedtime resistance with crying and tantrums, the quickest and surest way to deal with the problem is to stop rewarding the crying with extra attention.
If you have made one or two attempts to deal with the problem without success, you might want to seek professional guidance. This problem can be very wearing on parents and the whole family, so it make professional guidance."
Professional guidance? Great! Just what I want to do. Let's go to the doctor and tell her we did exactly what she warned us against.
I pledge right now that when Baby #2 comes around (don't get excited there are no plans for a second child right now) I will be tough. There will be no sleeping in my bed.
Yeah, right.
25 July 2005
Day XXX -- crunch time -- 5
So the portrait went OK.
Once Jack realized we were taking pictures he became a ham and started giving us goofy smiles with squinty eyes. We salvaged about three shots. Husband thought I was being too critical but when you've got the looks, the film should show it. Basically the whole experience was another example of how much easier it was when he couldn't move around and we just propped him into positions.
The other night when we were at our favorite Mexican restaurant celebrating my new raise I spent the majority of the night watching a set of new parents juggle a newborn -- probably about three months old. The dad balantly had no idea what he was doing and the mom stood for her entire dinner doing the infant sway and trying to stuff her tacos in the side of her mouth. They both looked beat but they were with other childless couples and I could tell they were trying to pretend they were still cool. Husband and I looked at each other laughing. Gosh, that was such an easy time.
On Friday, when I picked up Jack from school, a new dad came in to pick up his three-week-old. Jack and I stood and watched him as he fumbled around trying to lock the baby into the car seat while still keeping the pacifier in his mouth.
I found myself saying, "Take advantage of this. This is the easy time. Wait until he becomes mobile." The dad (who was actually kind of old to be just starting out) was not thrilled by my tidbit of information.
I walked out to the car flabbergasted I had actually said that to him (no doubt he will avoid me from now on) because when I was a teenager my dad used to go up to strangers and say the exact same thing.
But, I'm just not wrong.
I probably said to Husband 10 times this weekend that life was much easier when Jack loved the exer-saucer. You could just put him in there, put in a Baby Einstein video and then empty the dishwasher or pick up the toys or go potty. These days nothing is ever picked up that he doesn't throw back down seconds later. Emptying the dishwasher takes forever as he is constantly grabbing at the pans or silverware and going to the bathroom has to wait until another adult is around. You can't leave him alone for a second.
Why can't they invent a saucer for one-year-olds?
His teachers told me that he loves to teach the other babies who are still in the contraption how to use the toys. He patiently goes around and around teaching his little buddies about the features and benefits of each of the attached toys. But just try to put him in one and WATCH OUT!
My parents got him this little Jeep thing that we were all sure he would adore. At the store, he laughed and was excited. At home, he hated it. Cried when you put him in it.
Doesn't want to be confined. He won't even try to push it around. (It's built similar to the Flintstones car.) When brother and I were little we had one that we LOVED. I think ours may have had pedals. But I know for sure that Sister had one that she loved to scoot around in. But Stubborn Jack will not even try it.
This weekend was supposed to be a tag-team of cleaning and weed picking and summer projects we have been putting off for ages. I'd say we got 25 percent of what we needed to get done, done.
The biggest accomplishment? Jack is now kissing back -- well, sort of. I have been trying to teach him how to blow kisses but he' not into the arm part. He'l just pop his lips and sort of toss them your way with a nod of his head. Apparently a swing of the arm takes too much time away from emptying his toy box for the 83rd time.
Once Jack realized we were taking pictures he became a ham and started giving us goofy smiles with squinty eyes. We salvaged about three shots. Husband thought I was being too critical but when you've got the looks, the film should show it. Basically the whole experience was another example of how much easier it was when he couldn't move around and we just propped him into positions.
The other night when we were at our favorite Mexican restaurant celebrating my new raise I spent the majority of the night watching a set of new parents juggle a newborn -- probably about three months old. The dad balantly had no idea what he was doing and the mom stood for her entire dinner doing the infant sway and trying to stuff her tacos in the side of her mouth. They both looked beat but they were with other childless couples and I could tell they were trying to pretend they were still cool. Husband and I looked at each other laughing. Gosh, that was such an easy time.
On Friday, when I picked up Jack from school, a new dad came in to pick up his three-week-old. Jack and I stood and watched him as he fumbled around trying to lock the baby into the car seat while still keeping the pacifier in his mouth.
I found myself saying, "Take advantage of this. This is the easy time. Wait until he becomes mobile." The dad (who was actually kind of old to be just starting out) was not thrilled by my tidbit of information.
I walked out to the car flabbergasted I had actually said that to him (no doubt he will avoid me from now on) because when I was a teenager my dad used to go up to strangers and say the exact same thing.
But, I'm just not wrong.
I probably said to Husband 10 times this weekend that life was much easier when Jack loved the exer-saucer. You could just put him in there, put in a Baby Einstein video and then empty the dishwasher or pick up the toys or go potty. These days nothing is ever picked up that he doesn't throw back down seconds later. Emptying the dishwasher takes forever as he is constantly grabbing at the pans or silverware and going to the bathroom has to wait until another adult is around. You can't leave him alone for a second.
Why can't they invent a saucer for one-year-olds?
His teachers told me that he loves to teach the other babies who are still in the contraption how to use the toys. He patiently goes around and around teaching his little buddies about the features and benefits of each of the attached toys. But just try to put him in one and WATCH OUT!
My parents got him this little Jeep thing that we were all sure he would adore. At the store, he laughed and was excited. At home, he hated it. Cried when you put him in it.
Doesn't want to be confined. He won't even try to push it around. (It's built similar to the Flintstones car.) When brother and I were little we had one that we LOVED. I think ours may have had pedals. But I know for sure that Sister had one that she loved to scoot around in. But Stubborn Jack will not even try it.
This weekend was supposed to be a tag-team of cleaning and weed picking and summer projects we have been putting off for ages. I'd say we got 25 percent of what we needed to get done, done.
The biggest accomplishment? Jack is now kissing back -- well, sort of. I have been trying to teach him how to blow kisses but he' not into the arm part. He'l just pop his lips and sort of toss them your way with a nod of his head. Apparently a swing of the arm takes too much time away from emptying his toy box for the 83rd time.
22 July 2005
Day XXIX -- 8
This whole blog thing is becoming a beast. A thorn. A pounder. I have built pressure on myself and my kid to be catchy and funny and cute everyday. That’s just not always possible. Thank goodness it’s Friday. This weekend we have big plans that will surely fill the blog for next week -- Walmart, one-year-protrait, painting, cleaning ...
Found out yesterday Jack doesn’t like cooked carrots. Have to say, not a big fan myself. He detests them so much he doesn’t even want them on his high chair tray.
He didn’t think I noticed him drop one little carrot square at a time. He thought I was too busy (shelling out banana/strawberry yogurt and some sort of baby pasta dish I will never get him again) to notice his little hand slip to the outside and let them go one by one.
Dink. One little mushy carrot square.
Jack is not a big fan of pasta. I know I’ve said it before but every time I think he’s never going to get it again, Husband serves him some and he gobbles it. He ain’t gobblin’ it for me. Yesterday I was rushing him so we could go for a 5+ mile walk and get back in time for my favorite sickeningly trashy reality show. (Priorities people!!) So dinner took forever.
He would let me put the spoon in his mouth. He would suck off the tomato sauce. Nibble on the noodle and spit out the meat. Sometimes the noodle would come out whole; sometimes chunks; sometimes he’d slip up and eat the whole thing.
Dink. One little mushy carrot square.
So I started rotating the dinner with the yogurt. He’s too smart for that jazz.
So then I tried frozen peas. I steamed them up and put them on his tray. Mixed reviews. I was surprised because he loves baby-blended peas. Sometimes I think he prefers to just suck down his food. No chewing -- that takes too much effort.
Dink. One little mushy carrot square.
I just gave up. I handed him a little fishie.
I just think he doesn’t have his appetite totally back yet. When Husband and I got dinner later, he ate bites. Maybe that’s the thing. He hates to eat dinner by himself. He wants to be included in everything.
He munched the fishy a bit but then wanted me to know he was done. He does this by a) grabbing the spoon out of your hand and throwing it b) swinging his arms to block any chance of the spoon reaching his mouth c) pounding on his tray and watching the food fly.
Last night he chose d) all of the above.
Good thing I had a white shirt on. Good thing.
They should invent a bib for the mom because when it was all over, I had sauce in awkward places and I smelled liked little mushy carrot squares.
Dink. The last little mushy carrot square.
Found out yesterday Jack doesn’t like cooked carrots. Have to say, not a big fan myself. He detests them so much he doesn’t even want them on his high chair tray.
He didn’t think I noticed him drop one little carrot square at a time. He thought I was too busy (shelling out banana/strawberry yogurt and some sort of baby pasta dish I will never get him again) to notice his little hand slip to the outside and let them go one by one.
Dink. One little mushy carrot square.
Jack is not a big fan of pasta. I know I’ve said it before but every time I think he’s never going to get it again, Husband serves him some and he gobbles it. He ain’t gobblin’ it for me. Yesterday I was rushing him so we could go for a 5+ mile walk and get back in time for my favorite sickeningly trashy reality show. (Priorities people!!) So dinner took forever.
He would let me put the spoon in his mouth. He would suck off the tomato sauce. Nibble on the noodle and spit out the meat. Sometimes the noodle would come out whole; sometimes chunks; sometimes he’d slip up and eat the whole thing.
Dink. One little mushy carrot square.
So I started rotating the dinner with the yogurt. He’s too smart for that jazz.
So then I tried frozen peas. I steamed them up and put them on his tray. Mixed reviews. I was surprised because he loves baby-blended peas. Sometimes I think he prefers to just suck down his food. No chewing -- that takes too much effort.
Dink. One little mushy carrot square.
I just gave up. I handed him a little fishie.
I just think he doesn’t have his appetite totally back yet. When Husband and I got dinner later, he ate bites. Maybe that’s the thing. He hates to eat dinner by himself. He wants to be included in everything.
He munched the fishy a bit but then wanted me to know he was done. He does this by a) grabbing the spoon out of your hand and throwing it b) swinging his arms to block any chance of the spoon reaching his mouth c) pounding on his tray and watching the food fly.
Last night he chose d) all of the above.
Good thing I had a white shirt on. Good thing.
They should invent a bib for the mom because when it was all over, I had sauce in awkward places and I smelled liked little mushy carrot squares.
Dink. The last little mushy carrot square.
21 July 2005
Day XXVIII -- 9
I totally forgot to post yesterday. I got up at 5 a.m. to get to a meeting in Detroit at 8 a.m came back to work at noon, worked until 5 p.m. went home to make dinner and take care of the kid and went to bed. The blog never once crossed my mind.
Maybe it's because Jack is not yet 100 percent.
He's Tropical Storm Jack, not quite reaching the winds of a hurricane.
He's being a very picky eater (this does seem genetically impossible I know.)
He's being very clingy.
He's falling to sleep by 8:30 p.m.
But don't worry, he's back in our bed.
Maybe it's because Jack is not yet 100 percent.
He's Tropical Storm Jack, not quite reaching the winds of a hurricane.
He's being a very picky eater (this does seem genetically impossible I know.)
He's being very clingy.
He's falling to sleep by 8:30 p.m.
But don't worry, he's back in our bed.
19 July 2005
Day XXVII -- 11
Of course as soon as we got into the doctor's office Jack was a new man. He'd spent the day either sleeping or literally moaning but as soon as he was weighed in, he was "uh-ohing", peek-a-booing and clapping.
I felt like an ass.
But when the doctor came in, he slowed down. He was way too cooperative as she examined him. He didn't act very busy and not once did he try to play with the sink or crinkle around on the paper lining on the examination table. These are clear signs of sickness.
Diagnosis: a virus. We have to ride it out.
No school for the kiddie today. (Which in about seven years is going to be music to his ears...)
Husband reports he's already acting more like himself today -- tearing apart the remote, clearing tables, dancing to commercials...
What a relief.
I felt like an ass.
But when the doctor came in, he slowed down. He was way too cooperative as she examined him. He didn't act very busy and not once did he try to play with the sink or crinkle around on the paper lining on the examination table. These are clear signs of sickness.
Diagnosis: a virus. We have to ride it out.
No school for the kiddie today. (Which in about seven years is going to be music to his ears...)
Husband reports he's already acting more like himself today -- tearing apart the remote, clearing tables, dancing to commercials...
What a relief.
18 July 2005
Day XXVI -- 12
Jack is sick. No funny stories. No cute antics. He's a sleepy lump on the couch with a sad little face. Doctor trip @ 4:45 p.m.
15 July 2005
Day XXV -- 14
Jackie is spending the weekend with the g-'rents. They, of course, are thrilled at the prospect. I am mixed.
Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't trust my parents to watch him for the weekend. On the contrary, they know way more than we do about baby rearing. I just know it will be strange without him.
Maybe it will be good.
Maybe if I am separated from him for a few days I will go back to thinking all the little things he does are cute and brilliant...
Like when he pulls apart the remote controls to try to figure out how they work. We don't have one remote that isn't missing something: the battery cover, the red plastic piece that covers the wand ...
Or when he clears the coffee table of everything (including breakables) with one huge swoop of his arm...
Or when he acts like he wants you to hold him and he CHOMPS on your shoulder...
How about when I have straightened his books, toys and videos and he immediately tosses them away...
Like when he tries to pick my nose and misses hitting me in the eye...
When he pulls my little baby hairs on the back of my neck and twists, twists, twists them up into his teeny fingers...
When he flips the TV on and off, on and off when you are watching a program he doesn't feel like viewing...
Or when he decides he's done with dinner and then he one-by-one drops any leftover food from his tray onto the floor...
I miss him already.
I say that with a touch of sarcasm. But I know after I have been separated from him for more than a few hours I will start to feel empty and naked. As I mingle at my fundraising party and see old friends from college I know I will not be talking about the latest movie or the bar, I will be telling everyone about all the smart and funny things my kid can do and remind everyone he's not even a year old!
I'll say,
"Jack's so mechanical! He's somehow figured out how the remote works!
He's very meticulous! He wants everything to be clean and clear of garbage.
He's so helpful! He always tries to help me clean up his toys!
He's so scientific! He's always trying to figure out human biology!
He's very loving! He always wants to hug, lay his head on my shoulder and stroke my hair.
He's so smart! He let's you know what he wants to watch on TV!!"
I can't wait until Sunday night.
Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't trust my parents to watch him for the weekend. On the contrary, they know way more than we do about baby rearing. I just know it will be strange without him.
Maybe it will be good.
Maybe if I am separated from him for a few days I will go back to thinking all the little things he does are cute and brilliant...
Like when he pulls apart the remote controls to try to figure out how they work. We don't have one remote that isn't missing something: the battery cover, the red plastic piece that covers the wand ...
Or when he clears the coffee table of everything (including breakables) with one huge swoop of his arm...
Or when he acts like he wants you to hold him and he CHOMPS on your shoulder...
How about when I have straightened his books, toys and videos and he immediately tosses them away...
Like when he tries to pick my nose and misses hitting me in the eye...
When he pulls my little baby hairs on the back of my neck and twists, twists, twists them up into his teeny fingers...
When he flips the TV on and off, on and off when you are watching a program he doesn't feel like viewing...
Or when he decides he's done with dinner and then he one-by-one drops any leftover food from his tray onto the floor...
I miss him already.
I say that with a touch of sarcasm. But I know after I have been separated from him for more than a few hours I will start to feel empty and naked. As I mingle at my fundraising party and see old friends from college I know I will not be talking about the latest movie or the bar, I will be telling everyone about all the smart and funny things my kid can do and remind everyone he's not even a year old!
I'll say,
"Jack's so mechanical! He's somehow figured out how the remote works!
He's very meticulous! He wants everything to be clean and clear of garbage.
He's so helpful! He always tries to help me clean up his toys!
He's so scientific! He's always trying to figure out human biology!
He's very loving! He always wants to hug, lay his head on my shoulder and stroke my hair.
He's so smart! He let's you know what he wants to watch on TV!!"
I can't wait until Sunday night.
14 July 2005
Day XXIV -- 15
Will I be a cool mom?
That’s a question that ran through my mind this morning at 10 to eight. I was jamming to Nirvana (high school highlights weaving through my thoughts) when I found myself wondering…
When I tell Jack I went to two Radiohead shows – both revolving around road trips with friends -- will he admire me?
When he discovers my numerous stubs from U2 concerts, Dave Matthew Band shows, Santana, Rusted Root, the first and third Lalapalooza, Lenny Kravitz, Lilith Fair, Ziggy Marley, Phish, the festival with Blues Traveler I went to for like four summers in a row that I am now to old to remember its name -- will he be stunned?
And what about all the great interviews? I mean college was filled with some pretty hot experiences for me.
Will he be surprised that the surely navy and khaki clad PTO mom standing before him was once possibly even a little hip? Or will he take it in stride thinking, “I mean you’re in now, why wouldn’t you have been on the pulse then?!”
I wonder what can I do to keep my statis high in the eyes of my firstborn. It’s a tricky task. I wouldn’t want to talk about my experiences all the time. I don’t want to show my cards too early. I don’t want to go overboard with “the good old days.”
I picture his blond head with blues eyes rolling and his saying something like:
“I know, I know, Mom… you crossed the mid-west to see Dave Matthews…You ALREADY told me how you touched Bono’s shoulder at a concert in Detroit… Big whip that you played video games with Ziggy Marley and other Bob decendents…’’
Will he hear my music and gag? And what about me? Will I make him turn his music off and say, “How can you listen to this? I don’t even understand what they are saying!” When will I stop liking new tunes?
Once I hit mid-30s will I only listen to AM? The horror!
I need to devise a plan to still remain cool in his eyes without seeming lame and old. Is that even possible?
(Oh, and start that college fund…)
That’s a question that ran through my mind this morning at 10 to eight. I was jamming to Nirvana (high school highlights weaving through my thoughts) when I found myself wondering…
When I tell Jack I went to two Radiohead shows – both revolving around road trips with friends -- will he admire me?
When he discovers my numerous stubs from U2 concerts, Dave Matthew Band shows, Santana, Rusted Root, the first and third Lalapalooza, Lenny Kravitz, Lilith Fair, Ziggy Marley, Phish, the festival with Blues Traveler I went to for like four summers in a row that I am now to old to remember its name -- will he be stunned?
And what about all the great interviews? I mean college was filled with some pretty hot experiences for me.
Will he be surprised that the surely navy and khaki clad PTO mom standing before him was once possibly even a little hip? Or will he take it in stride thinking, “I mean you’re in now, why wouldn’t you have been on the pulse then?!”
I wonder what can I do to keep my statis high in the eyes of my firstborn. It’s a tricky task. I wouldn’t want to talk about my experiences all the time. I don’t want to show my cards too early. I don’t want to go overboard with “the good old days.”
I picture his blond head with blues eyes rolling and his saying something like:
“I know, I know, Mom… you crossed the mid-west to see Dave Matthews…You ALREADY told me how you touched Bono’s shoulder at a concert in Detroit… Big whip that you played video games with Ziggy Marley and other Bob decendents…’’
Will he hear my music and gag? And what about me? Will I make him turn his music off and say, “How can you listen to this? I don’t even understand what they are saying!” When will I stop liking new tunes?
Once I hit mid-30s will I only listen to AM? The horror!
I need to devise a plan to still remain cool in his eyes without seeming lame and old. Is that even possible?
(Oh, and start that college fund…)
13 July 2005
Day XXIII -- 16
Watch out hairy spiders.
Fly away little gnats.
Don't come a buzzin' yellow bees.
We have a predator in the house.
MY KID ATE A BUG!!
Jack loves to sit and watch the birds. He stands with his face pressed against the doorwall at our house and just claps and laughs at them as they swoop between two pine trees and our neighbor's birdhouse.
I was on the phone. Now, before you judge, please note I was helping to plan a fundraising party for the cancer walk. He was "uh-ohing" out the windows at his little bird friends. He was pounding on the class in delight. Toy Story was on in the background. I continued to chat away glancing at my offspring every other minute at least.
Something I have learned quickly (and the hard way) is that if the kid is quiet it's not a good thing.
"Jackie, what are you doing?" (enter the mom sing-song voice here)
He just turned and smiled at me. He looked back at out the window. Something told me to keep asking him.
"Jackson Thomas. What are you doing?" (sterner mom voice)
He turned and looked at me again with a smirk on his face. He was hiding something in his mouth. I could tell. (Mind you, he often has fishies appear out of nowhere -- old Fish crackers now soft with age.)
"Jack, open your mouth."
He was now openly crunching.
I pinched his cheeks together. His trap slowly opened and ...
There lay a Ladybug only recognizable by the remains of her shell.
I just about lost my mind.
"AHHHHH!!! JACK JUST ATE A LADYBUG!!" I scream into the phone.
I heard laughter on the other end and a, "Sorry, it's not funny... but it kinda is."
I quickly scooped out everything I can find in his mouth. He was not happy to have my fingers in there (but apparently it's fine for a bug) and fought me off. I picked him up and dragged him into the kitchen to get a fresh milk bottle to rinse down the bug guts.
"Jack! Yuck! Yuckie! Yuck," I said, making spitting noises. "You don't eat bugs!!"
I handed him the bottle of fresh, cool, whole milk. He scooted to get down.
Crawling away, he took a quick sip of the milk and then tossed it over his shoulder.
Apparently nothing beats a good Lady.
Fly away little gnats.
Don't come a buzzin' yellow bees.
We have a predator in the house.
MY KID ATE A BUG!!
Jack loves to sit and watch the birds. He stands with his face pressed against the doorwall at our house and just claps and laughs at them as they swoop between two pine trees and our neighbor's birdhouse.
I was on the phone. Now, before you judge, please note I was helping to plan a fundraising party for the cancer walk. He was "uh-ohing" out the windows at his little bird friends. He was pounding on the class in delight. Toy Story was on in the background. I continued to chat away glancing at my offspring every other minute at least.
Something I have learned quickly (and the hard way) is that if the kid is quiet it's not a good thing.
"Jackie, what are you doing?" (enter the mom sing-song voice here)
He just turned and smiled at me. He looked back at out the window. Something told me to keep asking him.
"Jackson Thomas. What are you doing?" (sterner mom voice)
He turned and looked at me again with a smirk on his face. He was hiding something in his mouth. I could tell. (Mind you, he often has fishies appear out of nowhere -- old Fish crackers now soft with age.)
"Jack, open your mouth."
He was now openly crunching.
I pinched his cheeks together. His trap slowly opened and ...
There lay a Ladybug only recognizable by the remains of her shell.
I just about lost my mind.
"AHHHHH!!! JACK JUST ATE A LADYBUG!!" I scream into the phone.
I heard laughter on the other end and a, "Sorry, it's not funny... but it kinda is."
I quickly scooped out everything I can find in his mouth. He was not happy to have my fingers in there (but apparently it's fine for a bug) and fought me off. I picked him up and dragged him into the kitchen to get a fresh milk bottle to rinse down the bug guts.
"Jack! Yuck! Yuckie! Yuck," I said, making spitting noises. "You don't eat bugs!!"
I handed him the bottle of fresh, cool, whole milk. He scooted to get down.
Crawling away, he took a quick sip of the milk and then tossed it over his shoulder.
Apparently nothing beats a good Lady.
12 July 2005
Day XXII -- 17
After slamming me in the eye with the cordless phone (saw stars)...
After tossing and turning for about 20 minutes...
After trying to put him in his own bed and having him become absolutely hysterical...
After trying a bottle...
After calmly rationalizing with him...
After trying to be stern ...
Jack decided he wanted to go downstairs and watch TV until 3:30 a.m.
Remote in hand, the not-even-one-year-old-king-of-the-house sat on the couch flipping the channels for more than two hours.
Flip. Flip. Flip.
I slept because I had to get to work by 8 a.m. and it was already after 1 a.m. by this point. And honestly, after getting slammed in the face I needed a break.
Husband sat up with him, in the dark, praying he would nod off.
Flip. Flip. Flip.
After tossing and turning for about 20 minutes...
After trying to put him in his own bed and having him become absolutely hysterical...
After trying a bottle...
After calmly rationalizing with him...
After trying to be stern ...
Jack decided he wanted to go downstairs and watch TV until 3:30 a.m.
Remote in hand, the not-even-one-year-old-king-of-the-house sat on the couch flipping the channels for more than two hours.
Flip. Flip. Flip.
I slept because I had to get to work by 8 a.m. and it was already after 1 a.m. by this point. And honestly, after getting slammed in the face I needed a break.
Husband sat up with him, in the dark, praying he would nod off.
Flip. Flip. Flip.
11 July 2005
Day XXI -- 18
It’s getting kind of hard to fill this blog. I have come to the realization that our life here in suburban Lansing is far from eventful.
This weekend: trip to Subway and rented a movie Friday; walked 6.5 miles and went house hunting Saturday; and Sunday we took a long afternoon nap and walked three more.
Jack fought sleeping, he ate well and he continued to “uh-oh” his days away.
I may be in some trouble with my walking partner. Saturday’s walk may have done him in. We’d planned a full 12 miles at least and about mile 4 he was d-for-done. Jackson decided he didn’t want to be pushed in his stroller anymore… he wanted to be carried. So Husband and I struggled through the last two miles pushing the empty stroller and carrying the 25+ pound sack of potatoes. He was fine after that – Mommy and Daddy not so much.
Saturday he barely made it a mile and a half before he wanted O-U-T! We stopped in Walmart -- he likes to stare at the strange people who inhabit the store -- and I was able to get some minimal errands done. I picked up some b-day presents for him (he really didn’t notice) and dropped off film. After the "rest" in Walmart, I was able to push him the 1.5 miles home.
We promised ourselves we would have his college fund set up by his first birthday. We even met with our accountant about two months ago to learn about our options. We have 18 days to get that rolling. Will it happen?
I still need to buy party favors for the other kiddies, decorations, Sesame Street plates and cups and decide: BBQ or Pizza? I need to touch base with Grandma about our game plan for the big event and decide on an outfit for his one-year-old portrait. Oh! I need to set that up, too.
Oh how my life has changed. Out: lazy happy hours, fine dining and last-minute weekend jaunts. In: early rising, painfully organized trips and staying at home a lot.
This weekend: trip to Subway and rented a movie Friday; walked 6.5 miles and went house hunting Saturday; and Sunday we took a long afternoon nap and walked three more.
Jack fought sleeping, he ate well and he continued to “uh-oh” his days away.
I may be in some trouble with my walking partner. Saturday’s walk may have done him in. We’d planned a full 12 miles at least and about mile 4 he was d-for-done. Jackson decided he didn’t want to be pushed in his stroller anymore… he wanted to be carried. So Husband and I struggled through the last two miles pushing the empty stroller and carrying the 25+ pound sack of potatoes. He was fine after that – Mommy and Daddy not so much.
Saturday he barely made it a mile and a half before he wanted O-U-T! We stopped in Walmart -- he likes to stare at the strange people who inhabit the store -- and I was able to get some minimal errands done. I picked up some b-day presents for him (he really didn’t notice) and dropped off film. After the "rest" in Walmart, I was able to push him the 1.5 miles home.
We promised ourselves we would have his college fund set up by his first birthday. We even met with our accountant about two months ago to learn about our options. We have 18 days to get that rolling. Will it happen?
I still need to buy party favors for the other kiddies, decorations, Sesame Street plates and cups and decide: BBQ or Pizza? I need to touch base with Grandma about our game plan for the big event and decide on an outfit for his one-year-old portrait. Oh! I need to set that up, too.
Oh how my life has changed. Out: lazy happy hours, fine dining and last-minute weekend jaunts. In: early rising, painfully organized trips and staying at home a lot.
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