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.)
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.
08 July 2005
Day XX -- 21
Jack brought home his first finger painting project today. Of course he had used red paint-- consistently his favorite color. The paper was crinkled where he obviously decided to crunch up the medium. (For Father’s Day they had the kids do toe painting (also red) which was interesting to scrub off his tootsies.)
He came home with a smear on his nose and elbow and red on his clothes. Ahhh, the beginning of school projects.
Soon it will be the night before, after dinner, and he will “remember” he has a paper to write and it has to rhyme, or he’ll volunteer me to supply baked goodies for a school fair and forget to tell me until we are on our way or he’ll depend on me to come up with his science project … the nightmare is closing in.
School is now a joy for Jack. Husband said when he dropped him off yesterday, he panted and cheered at the sight of the school and scurried off once he was in his classroom. (See ya, Dad!)
Husband thinks he’s just sick of us from our cross-country tour. Very, very possible. He didn’t have that usual thrill when I got home from work yesterday.
Maybe he needs a vacation from our vacation.
He came home with a smear on his nose and elbow and red on his clothes. Ahhh, the beginning of school projects.
Soon it will be the night before, after dinner, and he will “remember” he has a paper to write and it has to rhyme, or he’ll volunteer me to supply baked goodies for a school fair and forget to tell me until we are on our way or he’ll depend on me to come up with his science project … the nightmare is closing in.
School is now a joy for Jack. Husband said when he dropped him off yesterday, he panted and cheered at the sight of the school and scurried off once he was in his classroom. (See ya, Dad!)
Husband thinks he’s just sick of us from our cross-country tour. Very, very possible. He didn’t have that usual thrill when I got home from work yesterday.
Maybe he needs a vacation from our vacation.
07 July 2005
Day XVIII -- 22
The mini-DVD player was perhaps the best investment ever made…
better than buying a house, buying cars, going to college...
It was without a doubt our saving grace as we spent four of our six vacation days in the car.
Note to self – buy more movies. If I have to hear “Ladybugs picnic” one more time I may lose it.
The trip was nice – both Nashville and Cinci. It was great to see the three sisters, grandparents, nephew and bro-in-law.
I know my son will beg us to visit the farmet in Nashville every summer. It’s gorgeous and a child’s dream between the dog and the kitties and the horses. It’s like summer camp but with good food and clean bathrooms.
Jack lost his mind when he went on a carriage ride with the mini-horse. You could hear him full-out laughing across the pasture. That little horse could really move and my kid seemed to like it the faster he went. Jack's braver than his daddy who freaked out about 30 seconds into his turn.
Jackie's cousin also mesmorized him. We caught Jack several times with his mouth open, idolizing the 3-year-old’s every move. I predict future mischief with these two.
What is it about kids and grandparents?
Jack hadn’t seen this side of the family in months but as soon as we walked in the door, he leaned in for them to hold him. I didn’t really see him for the rest of the weekend! It’s like some sort of internal grandparent radar.
And how did the sleeping go, you ask? Um, yeah. He pretty much stayed up late every night (wouldn’t want to miss anything) and then tossed and turned (in our bed) for the next few hours. Luckily, he slept in a little in the mornings and took some naps. At least everyone in Husband’s family, and Sister, now knows we aren’t exaggerating about his refusal to close his eyes.
In Cinci, he was so stir crazy I’m not sure Sister will want children any time in the next decade! In his defense, he had been in the car for five hours and he was in yet another place in under a week. Luckily, he slept through dinner.
Quick highlights/changes post 4th festivities:
* Watermelon is now a favorite… along with strawberries, cherries and cantaloupe
* The “Uh-oh” craze continued across the mid-west. He would throw things from his car seat and then say, “Uh-oh!” until we acknowledged the incident and “Uh-ohed” back.
* Jack can find the on-off button on any appliance no matter the size or function… and he thoroughly enjoys turning of the TV even if you are watching a program.
* Pretzel rods in.
* The biting stage has now begun.
* Burping is funny.
better than buying a house, buying cars, going to college...
It was without a doubt our saving grace as we spent four of our six vacation days in the car.
Note to self – buy more movies. If I have to hear “Ladybugs picnic” one more time I may lose it.
The trip was nice – both Nashville and Cinci. It was great to see the three sisters, grandparents, nephew and bro-in-law.
I know my son will beg us to visit the farmet in Nashville every summer. It’s gorgeous and a child’s dream between the dog and the kitties and the horses. It’s like summer camp but with good food and clean bathrooms.
Jack lost his mind when he went on a carriage ride with the mini-horse. You could hear him full-out laughing across the pasture. That little horse could really move and my kid seemed to like it the faster he went. Jack's braver than his daddy who freaked out about 30 seconds into his turn.
Jackie's cousin also mesmorized him. We caught Jack several times with his mouth open, idolizing the 3-year-old’s every move. I predict future mischief with these two.
What is it about kids and grandparents?
Jack hadn’t seen this side of the family in months but as soon as we walked in the door, he leaned in for them to hold him. I didn’t really see him for the rest of the weekend! It’s like some sort of internal grandparent radar.
And how did the sleeping go, you ask? Um, yeah. He pretty much stayed up late every night (wouldn’t want to miss anything) and then tossed and turned (in our bed) for the next few hours. Luckily, he slept in a little in the mornings and took some naps. At least everyone in Husband’s family, and Sister, now knows we aren’t exaggerating about his refusal to close his eyes.
In Cinci, he was so stir crazy I’m not sure Sister will want children any time in the next decade! In his defense, he had been in the car for five hours and he was in yet another place in under a week. Luckily, he slept through dinner.
Quick highlights/changes post 4th festivities:
* Watermelon is now a favorite… along with strawberries, cherries and cantaloupe
* The “Uh-oh” craze continued across the mid-west. He would throw things from his car seat and then say, “Uh-oh!” until we acknowledged the incident and “Uh-ohed” back.
* Jack can find the on-off button on any appliance no matter the size or function… and he thoroughly enjoys turning of the TV even if you are watching a program.
* Pretzel rods in.
* The biting stage has now begun.
* Burping is funny.
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