Happy birthday, Jackson Thomas.
It's been an incredible four years, baby!
We can't wait to watch you grow up and hear all the amazing things you have to say.
You are quite the boy.
29 July 2008
97
Happy birthday, Jackson Thomas.
It's been an incredible four years, baby!
We can't wait to watch you grow up and hear all the amazing things you have to say.
You are quite the boy.
24 July 2008
96
What do you do when you catch your 10-month-old chewing on a used plunger? Gag and scream and rip it away from him. And then continue to scream as you literally wash his mouth out with soap and water.
What does he do? Giggle and smile.
Thus starts another football season. Joe is gone for trip No. 1 of this 08-09 sports year.
I know what you're thinking. How does this happen? How could anyone be such a terrible mother? I have been asking myself the same thing since about 8 p.m. last night.
I got home late. I thought I could leave the office by 5:15 at the latest and I walked through my door at 6:20 p.m. I could tell my pregnant nanny was exhausted and irritated when she walked out the door with minimal chit-chat.
Jack was hungry. Brennan was still taking a nap. Joe was already heading to Chicago.
I quickly fed Jack to try to allow him to eat dinner before our eating machine got up and attacked his older brother's food. I grabbed some grub and as soon as I sat down to eat, I heard the music player from his crib playing in the monitor. He wasn't crying so I let him play there as I shoved a diet meal into my mouth. Jack took forever with his dinner as he does every night but 15 minutes later, B wasn't crying yet. It was getting close to 7 p.m. so I knew I had to get him up and dinnered.
A jar of baby meat, rice and veggies and pears later, the baby was fed. Jack was still eating his dinner. It was going on an hour of eating dinner.
I suggested we go for a walk in the neighborhood before bed. Jack was excited and quick shoved everything that was left into his mouth.
Here's where the plunger comes in.
Since B has been mobile we've made a rule that the half bath's door must always, always be closed. We all know the rule. BFR likes to unravel the toilet paper, throw things in the potty and get in under the sink.
I am not sure where things went wrong. (Switch to slow-motion present tense ...)
Jack and I are in the bathroom with Brennan. He is unraveling the toilet paper -- a battle I decide against fighting right then. Jack is doing his business and I am looking for bug spray. We all leave the room. Jack shuts the door.
I put on B's socks and shoes and let him loose to play for a minute. I still haven't found the bug spray but pretty much give up on the idea. We wait for Jack (again). Jack attempts to put on his shoes. He asks me to check to make sure they were on the correct feet. I take my eyes off B to look at Jack's shoes and look up to see the bathroom door is now open. I walk toward the room and see my precious, angelic baby with the plunger end up in the air. I scream and lunge. I scream again and again. Jack runs into the bathroom and I tell him what B has done. He screams. We both scream over and over as I splash water on B's face. Brennan just laughs.
"Mama! Brennan ate stinky!!!!!!" Jack shrieks, gags and shudders at the same time.
I throw up in my mouth a little.
I then decide to put a teeny bit of hand soap on my hand and literally wash his mouth. I try to dig out the germs that might be floating in his teeny-tiny mouth; I may be still may screaming intermittently. Brennan bites me. He bites me very, very hard. And I swear. Jack, the word police, doesn't dare call me out. He is likely thinking, "Oh shit!" too.
Meanwhile, Brennan is thinks this is also hilarious.
What do you do? What do you do?!
I tried to walk it off. I tried to reason with him but all I could see (and still see) is the image of him with that thing. Is there anything, anything worse? I remember writing a blog about Jack eating a ladybug. Big deal! Big freaking deal! That was likely a source of protein. But this?!
I pushed forward with the walk. I locked up the house, grabbed my phone and keys and Jack and I silently walked outside. Neither of us spoke of the severity of what we'd just experienced. I unlocked the car to get the stroller out and realized there were no house keys on my keys. That's right because Joe gave them to our friend who's staying with us. No biggie, I thought. I will just call the two friends who have keys. Guess what? Neither have them anymore. They both gave them back to Joe months ago. Good to know. I walked the perimeter of the house. All the windows were shut. That's right. We're safe... safely locked outside! About a half an hour later, I called Joe. He was in K-zoo and didn't have his house key either. He'd left it for me ... on the kitchen table ... in the house. Nice.
Jack started to panic a little. Will we have to sleep outside? What if I have to go potty? How are we going to get in?
I noticed our bedroom windows (second floor) are open. I decide to put the kids in the sun room and attempt to jump onto the roof from the deck. If only our ladder had one more step. At one point I was hanging off the edge of my roof. Seriously, my leg was dangling. Jack was ready with the cell phone if anything happened. My three-year-old was the one who put the kabash on this idea.
"Um ... Mama ... that's just not going to work."
(Add tall ladder to my next shopping list, by the way.)
So now B is getting tired, Jack is getting restless and Joe is helpless calling me over and over.
Our visitor is working and can't really be reached.
He got home at 11:15. 11:15. Yes, I said 11:15. P.M. In the night-time. To quote Jack,"It got dark out on us."
I could have met my Dad and gotten his key in that time. I could have driven to my Nanny's out-of-town home and back in that time. If I had only known. But our friend was broadcasting a local baseball game and wouldn't you know? Extra innings!
I did take those two hours as a great time to talk to Jack about giving some of his millions of toys to charity. We were able to go through most of them and create a hefty pile to give to an orphanage for boys in Detroit. Sitting on the floor out there I realized just how many toys the boys have ... wow. Jack's only contention was they had to share with each other. We read a lot of books. And we took a lot of things out of Brennan's mouth, including a dried up leaf from a Jack art project. Awesome.
Both boys were whipped when my friend showed. And he felt terrible. He had no idea we'd been waiting that long and insisted he would have left. It was my own fault this happened. I think it falls under the "terrible mom" category. A quick change and bottle and B was in bed within 10 minutes. Jack was too wound up to go down until after midnight.
I curse road trips.
What does he do? Giggle and smile.
Thus starts another football season. Joe is gone for trip No. 1 of this 08-09 sports year.
I know what you're thinking. How does this happen? How could anyone be such a terrible mother? I have been asking myself the same thing since about 8 p.m. last night.
I got home late. I thought I could leave the office by 5:15 at the latest and I walked through my door at 6:20 p.m. I could tell my pregnant nanny was exhausted and irritated when she walked out the door with minimal chit-chat.
Jack was hungry. Brennan was still taking a nap. Joe was already heading to Chicago.
I quickly fed Jack to try to allow him to eat dinner before our eating machine got up and attacked his older brother's food. I grabbed some grub and as soon as I sat down to eat, I heard the music player from his crib playing in the monitor. He wasn't crying so I let him play there as I shoved a diet meal into my mouth. Jack took forever with his dinner as he does every night but 15 minutes later, B wasn't crying yet. It was getting close to 7 p.m. so I knew I had to get him up and dinnered.
A jar of baby meat, rice and veggies and pears later, the baby was fed. Jack was still eating his dinner. It was going on an hour of eating dinner.
I suggested we go for a walk in the neighborhood before bed. Jack was excited and quick shoved everything that was left into his mouth.
Here's where the plunger comes in.
Since B has been mobile we've made a rule that the half bath's door must always, always be closed. We all know the rule. BFR likes to unravel the toilet paper, throw things in the potty and get in under the sink.
I am not sure where things went wrong. (Switch to slow-motion present tense ...)
Jack and I are in the bathroom with Brennan. He is unraveling the toilet paper -- a battle I decide against fighting right then. Jack is doing his business and I am looking for bug spray. We all leave the room. Jack shuts the door.
I put on B's socks and shoes and let him loose to play for a minute. I still haven't found the bug spray but pretty much give up on the idea. We wait for Jack (again). Jack attempts to put on his shoes. He asks me to check to make sure they were on the correct feet. I take my eyes off B to look at Jack's shoes and look up to see the bathroom door is now open. I walk toward the room and see my precious, angelic baby with the plunger end up in the air. I scream and lunge. I scream again and again. Jack runs into the bathroom and I tell him what B has done. He screams. We both scream over and over as I splash water on B's face. Brennan just laughs.
"Mama! Brennan ate stinky!!!!!!" Jack shrieks, gags and shudders at the same time.
I throw up in my mouth a little.
I then decide to put a teeny bit of hand soap on my hand and literally wash his mouth. I try to dig out the germs that might be floating in his teeny-tiny mouth; I may be still may screaming intermittently. Brennan bites me. He bites me very, very hard. And I swear. Jack, the word police, doesn't dare call me out. He is likely thinking, "Oh shit!" too.
Meanwhile, Brennan is thinks this is also hilarious.
What do you do? What do you do?!
I tried to walk it off. I tried to reason with him but all I could see (and still see) is the image of him with that thing. Is there anything, anything worse? I remember writing a blog about Jack eating a ladybug. Big deal! Big freaking deal! That was likely a source of protein. But this?!
I pushed forward with the walk. I locked up the house, grabbed my phone and keys and Jack and I silently walked outside. Neither of us spoke of the severity of what we'd just experienced. I unlocked the car to get the stroller out and realized there were no house keys on my keys. That's right because Joe gave them to our friend who's staying with us. No biggie, I thought. I will just call the two friends who have keys. Guess what? Neither have them anymore. They both gave them back to Joe months ago. Good to know. I walked the perimeter of the house. All the windows were shut. That's right. We're safe... safely locked outside! About a half an hour later, I called Joe. He was in K-zoo and didn't have his house key either. He'd left it for me ... on the kitchen table ... in the house. Nice.
Jack started to panic a little. Will we have to sleep outside? What if I have to go potty? How are we going to get in?
I noticed our bedroom windows (second floor) are open. I decide to put the kids in the sun room and attempt to jump onto the roof from the deck. If only our ladder had one more step. At one point I was hanging off the edge of my roof. Seriously, my leg was dangling. Jack was ready with the cell phone if anything happened. My three-year-old was the one who put the kabash on this idea.
"Um ... Mama ... that's just not going to work."
(Add tall ladder to my next shopping list, by the way.)
So now B is getting tired, Jack is getting restless and Joe is helpless calling me over and over.
Our visitor is working and can't really be reached.
He got home at 11:15. 11:15. Yes, I said 11:15. P.M. In the night-time. To quote Jack,"It got dark out on us."
I could have met my Dad and gotten his key in that time. I could have driven to my Nanny's out-of-town home and back in that time. If I had only known. But our friend was broadcasting a local baseball game and wouldn't you know? Extra innings!
I did take those two hours as a great time to talk to Jack about giving some of his millions of toys to charity. We were able to go through most of them and create a hefty pile to give to an orphanage for boys in Detroit. Sitting on the floor out there I realized just how many toys the boys have ... wow. Jack's only contention was they had to share with each other. We read a lot of books. And we took a lot of things out of Brennan's mouth, including a dried up leaf from a Jack art project. Awesome.
Both boys were whipped when my friend showed. And he felt terrible. He had no idea we'd been waiting that long and insisted he would have left. It was my own fault this happened. I think it falls under the "terrible mom" category. A quick change and bottle and B was in bed within 10 minutes. Jack was too wound up to go down until after midnight.
I curse road trips.
21 July 2008
16 July 2008
94
I know I still need to post some of the classic shots from our trip to 'gina. I just am too tired to download, upload, and caption.
Brennan is growing fast, moving and talking now so much. It's so fun. He will not speak on command but he sure knows his Dada. It's fantastic. We think he's calling Jack "Baba" but it's not confirmed. He's still a Mama's boy which I love but when it comes to saying "Mama," I am lucky to get it in a whisper.
In case it changes, I want to document this: Jack is just such a great big brother.
Everyday he shows us just what a great leader and protector he has become. He is B's most favorite person. No one can get him to smile faster, to laugh harder, to play more. He is so patient with him. And when we get ready for church, Jack always makes sure to get one toy for his baby and one for him to play with during mass.
He may have his temper flairs (thanks, Daddy) and he may refuse to eat anything but fish sticks (No.1s), grilled cheese (cheese melted) or popcorn shrimp but nobody messes with his B. He doesn't even scream that loud when B pulls his hair. And he does that ... a lot. Brennan is also a biter. The louder you scream, the harder he bites. But Jack just gently brushes him off. And then the pair laugh ... a lot.
We took Brennan to the doctor the other day for some shots. We've been really specific on his shot schedule and taking our time to get the ones we think are important in. With the nanny, we're able to have that luxury. Brennan wasn't impressed with the nurse from the start.
Truthfully, she doesn't impress me either. She's a bit crusty. He took the shots like a champ. He was mad, mostly at the surprise pain, and cried for a brief moment. I hate, HATE taking him for shots but with Jack entering school this fall, we just feel like B is going to be exposed to things that he'll need help fighting off.
Post-shot Brennan wouldn't make eye contact with Nurse Crusty. He was very angry with her. His initial feelings of her had multiplied with each injection. She tried to warm up to him but he would have nothing to do with her. As we walked out of the office he widely smiled to the other nurses and even threw up an all-arm wave.
But when Crusty tried to response, he stopped smiling, stone cold stared at her (one eyebrow up) as if to say, "Oh, don't even think I was talking to you.''
The Brennan-blood bubbled. Nana would have been so proud.
Brennan is growing fast, moving and talking now so much. It's so fun. He will not speak on command but he sure knows his Dada. It's fantastic. We think he's calling Jack "Baba" but it's not confirmed. He's still a Mama's boy which I love but when it comes to saying "Mama," I am lucky to get it in a whisper.
In case it changes, I want to document this: Jack is just such a great big brother.
Everyday he shows us just what a great leader and protector he has become. He is B's most favorite person. No one can get him to smile faster, to laugh harder, to play more. He is so patient with him. And when we get ready for church, Jack always makes sure to get one toy for his baby and one for him to play with during mass.
He may have his temper flairs (thanks, Daddy) and he may refuse to eat anything but fish sticks (No.1s), grilled cheese (cheese melted) or popcorn shrimp but nobody messes with his B. He doesn't even scream that loud when B pulls his hair. And he does that ... a lot. Brennan is also a biter. The louder you scream, the harder he bites. But Jack just gently brushes him off. And then the pair laugh ... a lot.
We took Brennan to the doctor the other day for some shots. We've been really specific on his shot schedule and taking our time to get the ones we think are important in. With the nanny, we're able to have that luxury. Brennan wasn't impressed with the nurse from the start.
Truthfully, she doesn't impress me either. She's a bit crusty. He took the shots like a champ. He was mad, mostly at the surprise pain, and cried for a brief moment. I hate, HATE taking him for shots but with Jack entering school this fall, we just feel like B is going to be exposed to things that he'll need help fighting off.
Post-shot Brennan wouldn't make eye contact with Nurse Crusty. He was very angry with her. His initial feelings of her had multiplied with each injection. She tried to warm up to him but he would have nothing to do with her. As we walked out of the office he widely smiled to the other nurses and even threw up an all-arm wave.
But when Crusty tried to response, he stopped smiling, stone cold stared at her (one eyebrow up) as if to say, "Oh, don't even think I was talking to you.''
The Brennan-blood bubbled. Nana would have been so proud.
10 July 2008
07 July 2008
92
Happy belated 4th of July.
I want to thank Aunt Trishie for her continued success in capturing the week of family activities in 'Gina. She is a photo giant and is able to capture my kids and their true personalities. As Jack said as she pulled away from Grandma Rex's Saturday, "I will really miss my Aunt Trishie."
The week of Virginia was packed full.
- Jack went fishing, rode roller coasters at Busch Gardens, got to bring down a flag on one of the ships at the Jamestown Settlement, saw fireworks, rode Papa's tractor, played with a RC car, messed with Mugsy the dog, played Mario Cart on Wii, ate a lot of No.1s (fish sticks) and bruised up his body playing hard all week.
- Brennan took three steps, got his two front teeth and melted hearts. He also pulled a lot of hair, ate more watermelon than legally possible, now rejects baby food ... and yesterday as Joe was walking down the stairs he looked up and said, "Hi Dada!"
Very exciting. Now I am very tired.
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