29 June 2005

Day XVII -- 30

Today begins the official countdown to the Fiesta de Jackson.

At 6:08 a.m. Jackson Thomas turned 11 months old!

This is my last posting until a week from today. The family is taking its first official road trip. We are heading south to Nashville to visit with grandparents, two aunts, an uncle and a cousin slightly older than the Boo. Sister-in-law and family lives on a farmet down there and since Jack LOVES animals, I know he is going to have a ball with the dog, cats and horses.

Based on our short trip home from Southfield, I am not necessarily looking forward to the trek – especially considering my job is to sit in the back and entertain. And after receiving sternly voiced concerns over my dependency on fried 'tators to entertain, I realize I have to be more prepared.

First, we divided the trip up so Mr. Monkey will only have to be strapped in for about 4.5 hours each day. Friday night we will spend the evening walking around Indy. Next Tuesday we’ll be in Cinci.

We have also slowly collected supplies we feel are going to make all the difference.

Portable DVD playerJack can thank technological advances and affordable prices for this purchase. I will not have to play the role of antennae girl as my mom did for years. He will never know the hardship of having to hope a channel comes in with a program you’d want to watch… Indiana is a tough state to pick up anything, I’m sure.
We will be bringing his collection of DVD movies… we’ll “Put down the duckie” all the way to Nashville.

Books – Some people, including Husband, get sick reading in the care. Since a) Jack can’t read and b) he’s never really been on a long road trip, this seems like a viable option.

Noisemakers – though annoying for parents, he really likes anything that makes noise, includes buttons and possibly lights up. Check on all three.

Snacks – Fishies, pretzels, dried apples, banana chips, bottled water. If all else fails, I have these vitamin-fortified animal crackers he enjoys… (Let’s be cautious with the new upholstery, k?)

A variety of CDS – Hopefully something will move him (see Day XV).

Car seat – Duh, of course we are having a car seat. We are just loosely considering turning him around. Currently, he is facing backward. But Jack exceeds the recommended weight and the muscle control a baby must have to face the seat forward. We discussed this idea with our pediatrician and she said she would never tell us yea or neh (way to cover her own bum) but that Jack is advanced in his neck control – and always has been. The makers of the seat suggest not turning it forward until the child is one and weighs at least 20 pounds. Is a month really going to make a difference? The boy lifted his head and looked at me seconds out of the womb! We’re debating this issue. Maybe I will ask Ford Engineer Cousin what she thinks.

If all else fails, I will have no trouble yelling "SWITCH!" and letting the spouce try.

I may need a vacation from my vacation.

28 June 2005

Day XVI

Why do french fries have to be so good but so, so bad?

After a long night at the dealership in Southfield picking up our new car (whoo-hoo!) Jack was not excited to ride back to Lansing. He wanted to hang out with Grandma and Grandpa. He wanted to climb around the dealership floor. He wanted to toss his animal crackers on the floor just so he could say, “Uh-uh-oh!” (Even when his mouth is full he hums the words, pretty cute.)

Husband and I split the drive so I could be the person to pull out with the brand new nautical blue SUV.

“AHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Jack whined from Southfield to Novi.
I suggested fishies. He packed his mouth and then spit them at his father.

Novi to Wixom.

“AHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

I suggested a bottle. He drank about two ounces and literally tossed it away.

“AHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I suggested pick-a-boo. He played a long for a short period of time.

“AHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Brighton couldn’t come soon enough. We pulled off to make the switch and grab some grub. I got the meal deal – figuring I’d share with hubbie.

But Jack had other plans. He could smell the pretty potatoes.

At first he just calmly watched Husband and I munch on our crappy food. But that didn’t last long. Soon little fingers were stretching to grab a piece of curly potato heaven.

I didn’t think he would like it. They were a little spicy – and a little hot. I tore a big fry in half, blew on it and handed it to him. He played with it a little, flipped it around in his fingers. He looked at me. I told him to go ahead.

(I know I am a bad parent as I am doing this but at this point we were just glad he had stopped screaming…)

He took his first chomp. A huge grin spread across face. I could almost see him thinking, “Oh, yeah. Where have you been?”

Quickly his hand held out for more. I gave him another.

Chomp. Chomp.

More smiles.

Before he was born, we thought, "Our baby won’t have anything but low-fat, lean protein and green vegetables until at least he hits kindergarten. We won't let him have anything that doesn’t hold nutritional value."

And yes, he did have sips of the vanilla milkshake.

27 June 2005

Day XV

My kid is a dancer.

He doesn’t hide it; he embraces it. And like his father and uncle he has no shame.

Jack lets the music move him and he feels it from head to toe.

Each type of music brings out a different move.

Rap –
He bounces his knees deeply. He pumps one arm – the other grabbing the coffee table. (This is a new move, circa yesterday.) (It’s almost like he’s raising the roof.)
Jump! Jump!

Classic rock –
This is my favorite move. It usually comes out when he’s eating dinner and we have put music on. He’ll stop eating, close his eyes and sway his arms over his head back and forth… it’s like he should have a lit mini lighter and be in the crowd at an Eagles concert.

Anything with saxophone – loves the saxophone. This is more of a slow sway with a quick grin. (How do you dance to a saxophone?)

Motown – this is usually accompanied with giggles and quick hops. He likes to stand at the entertainment system and wiggle his bum like Beyonce.

If he’s in the crawl position with no hope of standing up, he’ll doesn't let that stop him. He just rocks back and forth until the song is over.

If I am holding him and he really likes the tune, he’ll wiggle down from my arms just to get into the best possible situation to dance like a mad-man.

He’ll recruit others. He’ll stare at you and motion until you join in – or feel like a jerk for not dancing. He even gets me, the most uncoordinated, bah-humbug dancer in the world.

And he’ll let you know if he doesn’t like the song. He will stop dead in his tracks until you find something better. He may even shout at you to pay attention and switch the song.

I foresee rug burns on his forehead from head spins the night before he meets his future in-laws and extended family.

I forsee a ruined knee from too much dancing at a wedding so bad that Husband will have to drive to another state to pick him up.

I forsee circles forming around him.

Jacket off. Tie askew.

"Go Jackie! Go Jackie! Go Jackie! Go! Go!"

24 June 2005

Day XIV

I hope Jack is ready.

We have some very important business to take care of – and whether he likes it or not, we’re going be walking – a lot.

Auntie and I lost our minds for a minute and decided to sign up for a 60-mile walk from Wisconsin to Chicago.

Yup, I said 60 miles.

Walking... with my legs… on purpose.

Together we have to raise $4,200 in pledge money – all going toward breast cancer research.

We are doing it with my friends and their sisters. It’s going to be a girl’s weekend in September with sweat (for sure blood) and maybe a few tears. I hear it changes your life.

Jack is my coach. He’s my motivation. He’s also going to be my buddy on the roads ahead.

It’s not like we have a healthy family history. I just had to fill out all the forms for Jack’s doctor and practically everything they asked me about for the family medical history form I checked:

Cancer? CHECK. (breast, lung, skin, colon)
Diabetes? CHECK.
Heart disease? CHECK.
Osteoporsis? CHECK.
High blood pressure? CHECK.

And that’s just my family. I don’t even know for Husband’s side.

It’s not like I have lived the healthiest lifestyle up to this point… roller coast weight struggles, smoking, poor sleeping habits, mediocre nutrition.

It’s not like I ever sweat on purpose.

The walk is pretty inspirational. It’s filled with survivors, family of survivors, children of mother’s who didn’t make it, grandchildren of women who didn’t make it.

It really accomplishes two things – money toward the research my generation needs to beat what has killed so many in generations past; and a reason to get in shape, therefore cutting my chances of suffering through a horrific disease.

It’s not like I haven’t already been touched by cancer.

Friends, co-workers, my grandmother. It’s everywhere. It kills all ages.

I couldn’t imagine not to seeing my Jackie grow up; to meet his children; his children’s children.

We signed up on the anniversary of Gramma’s death. She was only 67 when she passed.

I miss my Gramma everyday. I think about how much she’d love to see her great-grandson. She’d laugh at his antics and eat up every inch of him.

She fought so hard to be around.

I think about how much Jack would love her soft hands, her willingness to play games for hours, her unendless supply of minty gum and her hugs.

So get ready Jack.

Get those Stride Rites tied up. Put the fisherman hat on tight. Let’s coat you in some 65 level sunblock.

We’ve got a job to do.

We’ll walk for Gramma.

We’ll walk for those who can’t.

We’ll walk for me.

We’ll walk for you and all the future babies.

We’ll walk because we can.

23 June 2005

Day XIII

We’re planning Jack’s 1st birthday party. I can’t believe he’s already almost a year old. Mom and I joke that the party is turning into a mini-wedding reception with so many friends and family coming in from across the country. He’s a lucky boy to have all these loved ones.

Do you think he’ll remember it?

Seems like yesterday I was suffering through my retail job – overdue – not allowed to sit, panting as I assisted customers pick out their very important lotion. All the regular customers stopped in to say, “You’re still working? Oh my! You look huge! I don’t envy you!”
(Thanks so much for that, by the way.)

Mom and I both agree we really don’t remember our labor experience that much. Growing up, she’d say all the pain washed away when she saw each of us and we were healthy. And even though at the time I thought she was crazy, I kind of feel the same way now.

Husband is convinced that this is God’s way to ensure our species survives. He remembers everything. He isn’t ready to talk about – like he went to war or something!

I know the epidural didn’t work. I know they didn’t expect him to come as quickly as he did. And I know we started the evening at the hospital watching the Tiger’s game and the baby was working his way out by Conan. (No clue if the Tigers won – Husband will know for sure.)

I really liked my nurse – despite the fact she didn’t have children of her own. I liked the resident who checked on me all night until the specialist came to deliver him.

I remember I didn’t like the nurse who was supposed to give me drugs but then took a shower instead. I didn’t like that Husband was the slowest counter in the world. And I definitely didn’t like the deep-rooted fear that something would be wrong with the baby when he came out.

I remember Husband looking at me when Jack had worked his way out and saying, “We have a baby!” Even in my pain and delirium, I remember laughing at him.

When the doctor put him on my stomach, Jackie lifted his head and turned to look at me with an expression that seemed to say, “Are you kidding me? What just happened?”

The level of relief that washed over me was like nothing I have ever felt before. I finally had my Jack – the baby I had pictured and named in the 6th grade – and he was perfect.

Then I heard pages over the hospital loudspeaker to my room. I remember looking at Husband and he looked worried. I told him to go with the baby to make sure he was all right. I wanted a play-by-play as to what the nurses were doing over there.

The doctors were working quickly. Suddenly the room was packed with a hustling medical staff. I didn’t even care. I wanted to know what was going on with my boy.

“Nine pounds, six ounces!” The nurse called out.

I remember the doctor chit-chatting with me while the team was repairing the damage left by my son. I believe we talked about The Cosby Show.

I 100 percent remember when the doctor discovered my drugs had not worked. I just about flew off the table. He was furious, barking orders to everyone and quickly pumping my I.V. with narcotics.

I could tell the doctors were scrambling. I noticed they were blocking Husband so he couldn’t really see what was going on. I really didn’t realize the shape I was in at that point.

“How’s he doing over there?” I asked Husband.
“Oh, he’s great. He’s got big hands – he’ll be a baller.’’

I remember the doctor telling me not to worry and to focus on myself.
(Yeah, right, didn’t he know? I had a baby!)

Things settled down. Nurses came in and cleaned me up. New sheets, new clothes, new socks. I woke up to find myself under a warming blanket, lying on packs of ice. Flowers filled the room.

I looked to my left. There he was wrapped tight with a little baby hat too small for his head – a family curse. It wasn’t a dream. Husband was sitting in a chair next to the little bassinet with his hand holding onto the edge of the bed, nodding off.

Husband turned and looked at me. We smiled.

“How are you feeling?” he asked me, forever the worrier.

“I’m OK,’’ I remember saying. “It really wasn’t that bad.’’

“Not that bad?’’ he said. “We’re we just in the same place? I don't know if I can go through this again!”

22 June 2005

Day XII

Yesterday I was a bad mom.

After five hours at school, I was home with Jack for only one hour before leaving him with a sitter.

At least I fed him dinner before I left, right? Well… actually… she fed him dinner while I put on make-up.

At least Husband had spent the first five hours of the day with him, right? No, really that just relieves him of any guilt.

At least he stays up past 10 p.m. so I was home in time to put him to bed, right? Again, no. Who would have guessed the kid would fall asleep by 10 p.m.? When does that ever happen?

I felt guilty the whole time I was out. I didn’t really enjoy the Peanut Barrel tuna melt – my otherwise favorite sandwich of all time. Even our nanny – who was at the bar to watch the game with the boys – was surprised I had left him.

I can’t remember the last time I have been out on a weeknight. It has literally been almost two years. When I went back to work full-time I made a pledge to myself that I wouldn’t go out after not seeing the baby all day.

Last night was an exception.

A good friend is moving to California and who knows when he’ll return to beautiful mid-Michigan. I didn’t want to miss his last night out. I figured someday when Jack was older he would understand. He would have wanted me to go and visit and watch the first half of the game. I am fairly certain when he’s a young father, he’ll do the same. Everyone who meets him says he’ll someday have a big social life.

And it was the guy’s last night in town!! He’s been my friend since 1997!!

Honestly, I would have considered bringing the baby to the Peanut Barrel but it’s just so darned smokey. Jackie loves to be out. He loves to stare at people and flirt with the waitresses. But my son’s pink baby lungs will not go near a place that is actually covered in nicotine tar. If we had eaten dinner on the patio I would have considered bringing him but that idea was vetoed after the men decided they needed good positioning in the bar for the game that didn’t even start until three hours after we first arrived.

I left at the half, after calling the sitter two times, and the Pistons were down. I said my goodbyes to the table and promised our LA-bound buddy a Thursday night visit with Jackie so we could give him a proper send-off.

That is unless the Pistons won, Husband realized. Then he’d have to come back for the game. If they won, they’d have to sit at the lucky table to send the proper vibes to the Wallaces, Chauncey and Tey-Tey. He’d never forgive himself if they lost and he hadn’t watched it properly. It would be their faults. And they’d have to sit in the exact same table… eat the same dinners… drink the same number of drinks… wear the same clothes… repeat all the same conversations… listen to the same songs on the jukeboxes…

Needless to say, I left the bar confident the power of Eva Longoria would overshadow the mighty Pistons and we’d finally be done with the NBA in 2005.

I got home to find the Boo curled in a ball in his little firefighter jammies sleeping on the couch and sucking on his index finger. His hair was curly with sweat. Guilt washed over me. He looked like he had been trying to wait for me and exhaustion overcame him. So, so sad.

I quickly scooped him up and squeezed him. I tip-toed up the stairs, put him in his crib stomach down (a trick from Dad) and covered him up with a very light blanket. I held my breath and waited for him to wake up – half hoping he would only because then I could make up for the hours lost. Nothing. I panicked slightly, checked for breathing, and walked back downstairs.

Pistons pulled it out… basically making the night a waste. LA-man will be out again in E.L. before hitting the Oregon Trail with his slow but steady oxen.

I, however, will not -- not without my boy.

21 June 2005

Day XI

Jack will soon be talking. I can feel it.

Obviously, he says “Dada.” Husband thinks this is is a great victory but I try to tell him developmentally babies master the “d” sound before the “m” sound. He tells me that's just my sad way of getting over it.

Truthfully, Jackson does say “Mama” -- when he’s tired, whiney and upset. Thanks Buddy.

“Dada” he sings and whispers under his breath while he is playing in his own little world. “Dada” he shouts repeatedly when he hears the front door open while speed crawling to see who is there.

He’s saying “Uh-oh” now. It’s pretty cute. He’s not 100 percent sold on the phrase although he uses it appropriately. It comes out more like "Uh-uh-uh-oh." If something falls, he’ll whisper “uh-oh" and then look at us. We cheer and congratulate him. Last night he started throwing items on the floor just so he could say it, growing more and more confident with its use after each toss and getting more and more excited with our reaction.

He is very good at listenging and comprehending what you are saying. He understands (though often chooses to ignore) "No!" He knows all his names -- formal and nicknames. He knows the word "gentle." This derived from him banging the coffee table with anything he can get his hands on. He'll happily bang away but if I tell him, "Be gentle, Jack." He look at me smile and then tap the item.

On Saturday Grandpa was playing with him and Jack handed him his shoes. Grandpa said, "Jack, those are your shoes. Do you know where they go?" And the genius pointed to his feet!

It is so amazing to watch him develop.

Jack is also very good at copying whatever you say to him.He'll play that game for hours.

Since birth, Husband and I have sung to him a variety of tunes.

To soothe him I call upon the Gramma classic, “You are my sunshine.” (I once made my Gramma repeat that song all the way from their house in upstate-Pennsylvania to Cleveland on a trip to visit Aunt and Cousin. Gramma was a very good singer with a soothing voice.)

Sometimes, I sing the Alphabet Song... (you can't start too early right?)

While playing, we pull out the favorite Papa song, “Chiquita Banana”.

But his most favorite song was a little ditty I came up with about day two. It’s very complicated….

It goes like this:
“Who’s the cutest baby in the world?”
Jackie! Jackie!”

To this day, he loves it. When he’s upset and not listening, I sing that tune and I get a little smile – even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

Usually, when we get to the “Jackie! Jackie!” part we raise his arms. Sometimes we sing it slow and you can see the anticipation grow on his face. Sometimes we sing it softly. Sometimes loud and crazy. Regardless, we get to the “Jackie! Jackie!” part and he’s sold.

Last night, he raised his hands up on his own, giggling all the way. I was impressed. I sang it slower to test him. He was ready.
"Who's the cutest baby in the world?"
Little arms waiting… waiting…
Jackie! Jackie!” (Two little arms right on cue.)

20 June 2005

Day X

I foresee Olympic gold. I am betting on a Nike endorsement, People's Sexiest Man issue and a glamorous girlfriend. The kid is a water genius! The Michael Phelps of 2022.

He fought putting on his swimmer diapers. He fought the navy blue swimsuit. He wasn't thrilled with the application of the sunblock. But once Grandpa stepped into the pool with him, he was intrigued. Then Grandma got in. After one round of "Motorboat" Jack was sold.

He was kicking! He was splashing! He was flapping his arms around in a loose stroke. And he was laughing. (Luckily it's all caught on tape so when the Olympics roll around they can use it for his biography.)

He wasn't even upset when his face dipped into the water. Sure, he coughed a bit but he jumped right back into the swing while clearing his sinuses.

Grandma is thrilled. She's planning on early morning swims and long days in the pool.

***

Can we talk about how cute my offspring is? I know, I know everyone says their own child is cute but I have proof. I get stopped in the mall. I get stopped in the grocery store. And yesterday, I got stopped in church -- twice. One lady followed me to the back lobby -- she actually missed mass to come to the back to tell me about how much she admired my child. She went on to tell me that she breastfed her kid for 18 months but so what if she was crazy?! She was friendly and Jack twinkled his eyes at her!

The other lady poked me in the ribs during the "Our Father" to discuss him. Later, she poked at Husband to reiterate her thoughts on "the most handsome child" she'd ever seen. And it wouldn't seem like that big of a deal except she was sitting next to four grandchildren of her own!

ON A SIDE NOTE:
I know I am not supposed to talk about his sleeping pattern anymore but I think my Dad is the "Baby Whisperer". He got Jack to not only sleep in the crib, but stay until morning. Last night? Yeah, Jack was up @ midnight and back in bed with me. When Husband got home from the Pistons game at 3 a.m. he tried to put Jack back in his bed.... instant wails.

Another week begins.

17 June 2005

Day IX

First want to give a shout out to Auntie!! It's her 24th birthday!! (Jack took her role as the baby in the family.)

Husband made me promise not to talk about the sleeping issue anymore. He says we are too consumed by it. He made me swear I wouldn't mention the fact that Jack woke up last night (morning?) around 4 a.m. ready to go for the day. I promised I wouldn't talk about the baby tossing and turning all night and pulling my hair. Nope. Nada.

Husband had to cover the blasted Pistons again last night so that left me and the kid to fend for ourselves again. Jack had a great day at school -- but no nap. That made me happy because I thought he may actually sleep.... Oh! Wait! Going down that road again...

Anywho, the two of us drove around town a bit as I decided what to eat for dinner. He sucked down a bottle in the back while I debated. The little food demon in my head told me to go crazy but I thought about the impending weekend in Troy, my parent's pool loomed over me, and I opted out. I really wanted mashed potatoes at Boston Market but I got corn. I question if that is even healthy but whateves...

Fairly boring night. Talked to no one on the phone. We watched Sesame Karaoke. It's pretty cool because they have great old songs from the days on McKinley in GP like "Ladybug Picnic" and "ABCDEF..." (The song that Big Bird sings thinking the alphabet is one word.) Then we practiced standing for a bit. He wasn't into it. I put new batteries in all his toys which thrilled him because everything now lights up brighter and is much LOUDER. I realized that most of the annoying toys are from the 'rents. Thanks Grandma and Grandpa!!

I was a little worried about dinner because he has been so darned picky. I cheated a little by choosing peas. There is nothing Jack loves more than peas. Peas it is!! I thought to myself. I really wasn't in the mood for a battle. Then I grabbed the jar of chicken dinner. I couldn't remember if he liked that but I knew I was golden with the peas. Worse case scenerio I would just drench the stuff in the peas. He'd be none the wiser.

Oh, but I forgot he doesn't really like things mixed. Luckily, he didn't hate the chicken dinner. He didn't love it but it wasn't that bad.

I believe he inherited the anti-mix thing from my maternal grandmother. My Nana was very particular about many things ... no food temperatures could be anything less than fresh from the oven before she would eat it; no food could touch other food on the plate; and if she didn't like the present you got her she'd say, "Oh, is this in style now?" Classic. :)

It's funny to me that I can see traits of a great-grandparent (especially one who passed away before he was a twinkle in my eye) in him. He's very smart, sharp-witted really -- my Papa. He's a cuddler, my Gramma.

I guess you could make a case for nearly all of his traits. He's very mechanical -- which could be my Grandpa. He's a problem solver -- like all of them. Stubborn as hell -- wait? I have no clue where he got that...

16 June 2005

Day VIII

So yesterday was a bust. I was pulling out of the driveway when I first felt the nail getting hammered into my eye. I tried to brush it off but by the time I pulled into work the nail had worked its way to my brain. Bad sign.

I lasted about two hours at the desk. After my second run to the bathroom thinking I was going to loose it, I decided to call it a day. I got home to find Husband curled up on the couch and Jack pounding the TV remote on his leg.

"I think I am dying,'' Husband declared.

"I am too,'' I said as I stretched out on the floor.

Husband never asked me why I was home at 10:15 in the morning. He knew.

Jack immediately squeeled in delight and toddled over to me to climb over my numb body.

"When is Nanny coming?" I whined.

"Not until 11:30,'' Husband mumbled.

"Can we call him to come now?" I pleaded as Jack stuck his finger up my nose.

"No."

With that, Jack scratched the inside of my nose so badly, it started to bleed. And it hurt a lot.

Real glad I went home to feel better.

After Nanny showed up Husband and I stumbled up the stairs to try to catch a nap -- to get back the sleep we have lost over the last five nights.

Jack refuses to sleep. Flat out. Tuesday night I saw the clock change on every hour. He's worse now than when we first brought him home.

We aren't bad parents (as much as this entry paints us to be) we are just insanely tired.

***

Last night Husband got called into work about 8 p.m. after he had just gotten home from work at 6:45 p.m. (He went in for a couple of hours after the nap.) Grrreat! I was feeling better after my afternoon snooze but I didn't know if I could handle trying to put the baby to bed by myself.

I fed Jack a bottle around 8:30. He fell asleep. I sat on the couch for nearly two hours in silence while he slept in my arms. I don't even know if I was breathing. Around 10:15 I decided he was deep enough asleep that I could put him down in his crib. I tip-toed upstairs, not even turning on the light. Slowly, I bent over the side rails of the bed and lowered him in ...

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

He instantly popped up and started to cry. I calmly told him I loved him and it was time to go to sleep (like the books say), laid him back down, turned on his fan and walked out of the room shutting the door behind me. Maybe he'll fall asleep, I thought to myself.

At 10:40 p.m. when Husband tip-toed in from work (I had warned him about making a noise) he says to me, "I could hear him outside."

I wasn't surprised. The kid didn't let it go! Why couldn't he be like his cousins?! All the baby books say to let them cry it out and they will eventually fall asleep. Not my kid. He screams so loud Husband could hear him even though the bedroom window wasn't open!

So the two of us sat there in silence (besides Jack's wail in the background) trying to decide when we had tried long enough. Both of us covered in guilt.

"I just feel so bad for him,'' Husband says.
"Maybe we should get him,'' I say.
"No, no. Everyone says this day comes,'' he says.

Wait 30 seconds.

"He's probably so scared,'' I say.
"Yeah, maybe we should get him,'' he says.
"Well, let's wait three more minutes and then get him,'' I say.

Wait 30 seconds, repeat.

Then, suddenly, I couldn't hear him anymore. Had we won? Had he decided to sleep?!! Could this be the breakthrough we have been praying for?

"I don't hear him!" I say with joy.
"What?'' Husband panics. "That scares me. What if he fell out of the bed and hurt himself? I should go check on him!"

I was against it. I know my kid and I know the second the door knob jiggles he'll be wide-eyed and ready to get the hell out of his room. Husband went against me. He slowly walked up the stairs. I got a diaper and a bottle ready. Mother's intuition told me it was going to be another long night.

Door opened.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!"

Yup. I was right. I sighed and walked up the stairs. By this point Jack was hoarse. We felt terrible.

"You won't believe it,'' Husband says. "He was standing. He wasn't crying or anything. He was just standing there staring at the door -- waiting. I feel so bad! How do people do this?"

I didn't answer because I don't know. I just got fresh PJs and got ready to change the baby. I looked at Jack as his father held him. He turned to me and smiled. Then he put his head on Husband's shoulder as Daddy apologized over and over.

14 June 2005

Day VII

Jack has decided a few things. He's pretty set on those decisions. He won't be swayed.

First of all, he isn't interested in eating anything except fruit, veggies and goldfishies. He wants everyone to know. He might humor you and eat baby food meat but anything else he will take his index finger and hook it out of his mouth while gagging.

Maybe he will be a (gasp) vegetarian. I can only imagine Husband and Grandpa when they hear that theory. The pair has been dreaming about serving the kid steak since about day 2.

Vegetarian isn't really correct. He's just getting picky and it really bites. (Get the word play?)

And his bed? Not so much likey. He goes through these phases (about a week at a time) where he doesn't mind sleeping in his room. That hasn't happened in a while. And not only does he want to sleep in our bed but he tosses and turns so much that Husband and I can't sleep.

Jack isn't comfortable unless he lies horizontally while creating a little family "H". He also likes to stroke my hair in his sleep, creating a body "N". Truthfully, the stroking is more like pulling. If I scoot away from him he follows me in his sleep, his baby arm extended and searching for my hair.

Last night was so bad that Husband scooped him up, mumbled something about not caring if he cried all night and put our baby in his own bed. But Jackson was blessed with my voice -- a voice I carried down from my maternal grandfather -- and it's not gentle nor is it something you can sleep through.

Two minutes passed.

Without a word, Husband gets up. He stomps down the hall. I hear him over the baby monitor trying to make a deal with our nearly 11 month old.

"Mama has to work early. Daddy has to work late. Please Jackie. I will let you back in the bed but you have to be a good boy and leave Mama alone. Don't pull her hair anymore and try not to move around so much.''

I hear Husband back in the room. Then I feel the little fingers.

JACKIE!

When it's 2 in the morning and I have to be to work early -- and try to be crisp -- I do find myself whimpering to Husband for him to hold him. But Jack will have none of it. He doesn't want Daddy, he wants Mama.

Admittedly, sometimes it's hard to be angry when he's grabbing for me. His baby eyes are closed and he's just searching for my arms to wrap around him and when I do, he sighs with contentment. I know I need to cherish these moments.

Someday he's going to make me drop him off a block away from where he's going. He's going to be embarrassed that I go to football games to watch him play and he certainly won't acknowledge me in public. If he's anything like his Uncle, I have some brutal mom years a head.
When my alarm went off this morning, Husband jumped up and turned it off, look of panic shot my way. I know if Jack had woken up, Hubbie wouldn't have been too happy with me. I tip-toed out of the room looking at the boys before I left. Jack was spread eagle across the bed. Husband, all 6 feet + of him, was teetering on the edge of the bed breathing in a whisper, just happy to be sleeping.

Master Jack rules.

13 June 2005

Day VI

Where did the weekend go? Is it really fair that we are on for five and off for two?

Another weekend, another trip to Target and Kroger. Whoo-hoo! Walmart got vetoed by Husband. Hate is an understatement for how he feels about that store. He says, "It just has a weird feel.'' Whatever that means.

Jack -- fortunately -- loves running errands. He stares and flirts at all the passing women... screams at anyone under five and loves to throw his shoes. Luckily, this trip he kept his flashy sandals on the whole time. Nothing worse than a shoeless kid in a discount store.

Husband worked Saturday night. After a long afternoon nap together, Jack and I had all night. Sometimes, honestly, this overwhelms me. He is constantly bored and can't really tell me what he wants to do so I just have to guess:

We played with his mini-basketball net for a while.

We stared at each other in the mirror, making funny faces.

We had a laughing contest.

We watched two videos. (Yes, we watch videos. Any person who looks down on that doesn't have a kid.)

We played with his beach ball.

We ate his veggie crackers.

I then ran out of ideas. So, I decided to practice walking with him.

It was a winner. We walked my tiny townhouse until I could no longer stand up straight. He took his giant steps and laughed and boasted. I cheered. He got courageous. He stood on his own for what seemed like a lifetime. Jack built up his confidence. You could almost see him thinking, "I can do this! I can actually do this!"

Of course, he had some tumbles. He tried to cry, quickly would look at me and I would reassure him he was fine and then he'd get right back up. (By the way, this is an essential Mama trick that goes back to the days of Sister. If you make a big deal about a spill, the baby will cry. Laugh it off, the baby will too. Husband has not learned this yet effectively.)

By this point in the night (around 9 p.m.) Jack was feeling pretty good. I was feeling pretty good. Disney's Tarzan was on and he was diggin' it. I needed to rotate the laundry. With a quick wave in the mirror to each other, we headed downstairs.

Cat was immediately out when he heard Jack. The two greeted each other -- Jack with a loud shriek, Cat with a meow -- and then we turned to the dryer. I put Jack down, he was holding onto the door of the dryer. Everything good. Then he crawled into the laundry basket giggling in delight. I continued to pull out the warm clothes, dumping them on his head. Laughter aplenty when all of the sudden, BAM!! The baby falls back and slams his head on the cement floor.

Long pause. He looks up at me confused. I saw all of his confidence wash away with the immediate flow of tears. This was not a blow-off bump. I quickly scooped him up, abandoning the clean laundry and tried to console him. It was awful. The noise of his head slamming repeated over and over in my head. I rushed him upstairs and then I heard giggling. Apparently, it was funny when Mama freaked out and ran up the stairs. I tried to look at his eyes to see if they were dilating.

That was not about to happen. So for the next half hour, Jack sat on my lap watching Tarzan while I freaked out trying to sneak peaks at his eyes.

I finally called Husband. He freaked out and really didn't make me feel any better. He immediately told me to call my dad. (Grandpa seems to know about everything. He is a dentist afterall!) I agreed.

That's when Jack grabbed my cellphone.

In the light of the little screen, I saw his teeny pupils fill with delight (and dilate). Relief washed over me. I let him chew the phone for the rest of the night. Hell, he deserved it.

Being a Mama is hard work.

10 June 2005

Day V

I mean if the kid doesn't get some sleep the Mama is going to loose her mind. Today I got to work -- on time, mind you -- with my fly down, deodorant all over my shirt and my hair wet. Worst part? I didn't know about two of the three until co-workers whispered to me about it. Is this week over yet?

We went to Cancun Mexican Grill last night for dinner to eat my woes of yesterday away. (Oprah would love that!) Jack loves to go out so he can stare at people until they feel uncomfortable. The rash is still slightly visible but it just looks like he rolled in poison ivy now. People probably judge my mothering skills when they see him.

If you haven't eaten at Cancun you really have missed out on the gem of Okemos. I know, I know, you think of great food in Okemos you think of Olive Garden, Chili's and Bennigan's but let me tell you this is even better! Amazing, don't you think? Get the enchilladas with pork. Sounds iffy but it is the best I have ever had and I used to live in Texas people.

This time we brought his dinner with us. He likes to do whatever we are doing. At first when we bumped him up to the Level 3 foods he hated it. Refused everything. Lock jaw in effect. Now he's warmed up to the idea of having to actually chew his food.

Did the Pistons win? Who gives a crap -- that's what I say. Will there ever be a week in my house that Jack and I don't have to watch any sports? Don't worry, after Pistons there's baseball. Then football starts again. Whoo-hooo!

09 June 2005

Day IV

Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was the rash or maybe it was just because he didn't want to do it.

Jack had the worst night of sleep since he first arrived. He cried when we tried to get him to lie down. He tossed and turned in our bed. He cried in his bed. And all the while I was haunted by dreams involving my deceased maternal grandmother and lions.

Don't ask.

At least when I left home this morning -- a half an hour late -- he was sleeping (in our bed) with Daddy. He seemed peaceful. Let's just hope for Husband's sake he stays there for a couple of hours.

Today the office closes early for a funeral of a co-worker.

I didn't know the woman who passed. She struggled with cancer for more than a year. She was 33. Every story told about her is filled with laughter and I'm sorry we never met. Of course the impending funeral brings up so many emotional memories for everyone -- even me. It reminds me of my grandparents who passed, a high school classmate who also died of cancer when we were juniors in college and mortality in general. Co-worker had a small child and a husband. What happens to them now?

What if it were Jack and Husband left behind?

I know what you are thinking, I'm just being pessimistic. Obviously, it happens.

I think everyone in the office knew she was going to die, but her family was still working on her first-floor bedroom. It never got finished. How is that family going to feel today when they get home and see it incomplete?

Ahhh. Rough day.

08 June 2005

Day III

The rash led to me leaving work early. I wasn't about to send Jack out in the world with the rash. Dr. said it would be fine for him to go to school. But my Mama instincts wouldn't allow it. Husband stayed home in the morning, then we tag-teamed at 2 so he could go to work.

Truthfully, despite the welts across his face and the polka-dots all over his body the kid was in fine spirits. He's eating like a champ again and actually took a long nap -- unheard of around our family.

Naps. Why won't you take a nappy-nap Jack?

My cousins are nap Nazi's with their kids. I have no idea how they do it. I think the kiddies spend half their day napping. My kid? You try to put him down and he gives you this look like, "How dare you?"

GP Cousin says to just let him cry it out. That's what she did and her kids are fine. They recovered from the utter disappoint of realizing their parents weren't going to come back to get them just because they were alone, scared and screaming their heads off.

Jack will have none of that... He's a stubborn cuss. The longer you wait to get him the louder, louDER, LOUDER he gets. He may take long pauses (that you stupidly think his him falling asleep) but he always comes back louder and with more force. And then when you succumb (because we always do) he grabs ahold of you tight, squeezing again and again as if to say, "Don't leave me ever again!" It's truly crushing.

Then he smiles -- victory.

07 June 2005

Day II

Jack had a little rash on Sunday but I just figured it was from the 90 degree weather. After all, it was probably the first time he was really exposed to heat. Husband panicked and put the air on so cold it could have snowed in my living room. I tried not to worry about it and convinced myself it would get better.

Yesterday the rash was worse.

The thing about being a new mom is that you really don't know what the hell you are doing about 80 percent of the time. When I called the doctor I knew in the back of my mind she'd scoff when she saw him, tell me he was fine, and send me on my way. But the forever worrier in me knew I wouldn't rest until I had concrete answers.

We took him in last night. I was right. She scoffed and told me he'd be OK. Good news. But he does have a stomach virus and sore throat. Apparently when babies are sick their immune system can react in different ways. His reacted with the rash.
The rash is very bad.

06 June 2005

Day I

So... I finally decided to step up to the plate. After weeks of pouring over everyone else's blogs I finally got the confidence to do it. I will focus on the brillance of Jack and then add the antics of our lives now and again. We are a crazy, wild couple who enjoys falling asleep on the couch and deciding what to do about dinner so I am sure everyone will be thrilled they spent the time to read about us. Sorry ahead of time.

***
Today Jack woke up with a huge rash on his face. He, of course, had a bad night's sleep and ended up cuddling with us again. Husband put him in his bed around 2, he got up right after I left for work at 7:30 had a bottle and a change and woke up again at 10. We are taking him to the doctor tonight at 7 -- of course we have to be out of there before 8 because of the Pistons. (Can't miss that!) I am not going to be sad when their run is done. Too much basketball. Of course yesterday we spent the day with the Tigers. Grrreat!

Jack might be the smartest (and cutest) kid alive. I can now say this with confidence because Best Friend (with her master's degree in child development) says -- he is very advanced. And he's a fabulous dancer.

More to come.