JB likes ice cream!
Don't ask me how I know this, his doctors wouldn't approve.
Let's just leave it at we're pretty sure he loves the stuff.
And when I'm sure I haven't given him a milk allergy, I'll tell you all about his giggles of joy and his i-can't-believe-you-were-holding-out-on-me, first licks.
The rules were meant to be broken a little, right?
:0
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Things you can eat... sort of
I feel like I have to write a little post about Mac because lately she's just been so sweet and getting so smart and such a pleasure to spend time with... If you read the archives of the GSO, you will notice I have said this pretty much from the moment she arrived (if not before) but at 2 1/2 she might have her moments, but is nothing close to "terrible" as the "twos" are named.
One of the day care workers had a baby. And when Web said to Mac, "Chrissy had her baby: a baby girl." Mackie said, "SHE DID? I WANT TO EAT IT." Web was like, "um okay, not exactly what I expected to hear," but it is what we always say to babies around these parts, "I'm gonna come eat you up." And our babies usually laugh and laugh at that one.
Another story from a little while ago involves all the kids taking a bath together:
Mac: That's JB's peanut
Nana: Yes, his penis.
Mac: His peanut.
Nana and TT: (giggling quietly and deciding not to push it.)
later, when Web came home my mom told her, "Mac saw JB's penis."
Me: Actually, she saw his 'peanut'.
Web (laughing) Well, that explains that...
When we asked for the explanation, my sister recounted that recently, Mac had seen her dad's package, and when she said, "Daddy, what's that?"
He replied, "That's my penis."
To which she exclaimed, "YOU CAN EAT IT?!?"
"um, not really."
One of the day care workers had a baby. And when Web said to Mac, "Chrissy had her baby: a baby girl." Mackie said, "SHE DID? I WANT TO EAT IT." Web was like, "um okay, not exactly what I expected to hear," but it is what we always say to babies around these parts, "I'm gonna come eat you up." And our babies usually laugh and laugh at that one.
Another story from a little while ago involves all the kids taking a bath together:
Mac: That's JB's peanut
Nana: Yes, his penis.
Mac: His peanut.
Nana and TT: (giggling quietly and deciding not to push it.)
later, when Web came home my mom told her, "Mac saw JB's penis."
Me: Actually, she saw his 'peanut'.
Web (laughing) Well, that explains that...
When we asked for the explanation, my sister recounted that recently, Mac had seen her dad's package, and when she said, "Daddy, what's that?"
He replied, "That's my penis."
To which she exclaimed, "YOU CAN EAT IT?!?"
"um, not really."
Our boy
If you are keeping track, there's been nothing on the newsletter front.
Month 10 was due yesterday and month 9 is about 78% done but has sat in a holding pattern of blogger "saved" but not "published" for about 30 days now.
We will catch up but until then, you should know:
He ate bananas today for the first time.
He's eating chicken dinners (homemade with veggies and curry and basil) and can finally get those sticky "puffs" into his own mouth.
He's crawling now... official. He's very mobile. He'll pull himself up on anything, he got stuck in between the couch and the end table yesterday. He is getting dirty feet and clothes for the first time in his life (not just here at home, but at day care too... but let's be honest, we need to start cleaning the floors here more.)
He's kissing and hugging us when we ask him to do these two things. It's all slimy, open-mouthed kissing, and there is no arm involvement in the hug... it is more a head into shoulder kind of move, but he is FOR SURE understanding what we are asking and eager to comply.
The kid is cute, cute, cute.
I recommend one to anyone!
So, congratulations to our blog-stalker, Amber and her little grain of rice!
Month 10 was due yesterday and month 9 is about 78% done but has sat in a holding pattern of blogger "saved" but not "published" for about 30 days now.
We will catch up but until then, you should know:
He ate bananas today for the first time.
He's eating chicken dinners (homemade with veggies and curry and basil) and can finally get those sticky "puffs" into his own mouth.
He's crawling now... official. He's very mobile. He'll pull himself up on anything, he got stuck in between the couch and the end table yesterday. He is getting dirty feet and clothes for the first time in his life (not just here at home, but at day care too... but let's be honest, we need to start cleaning the floors here more.)
He's kissing and hugging us when we ask him to do these two things. It's all slimy, open-mouthed kissing, and there is no arm involvement in the hug... it is more a head into shoulder kind of move, but he is FOR SURE understanding what we are asking and eager to comply.
The kid is cute, cute, cute.
I recommend one to anyone!
So, congratulations to our blog-stalker, Amber and her little grain of rice!
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Horror shows of the week
1) Did you see that some wingnut shot up the liberals at the Tennesse Valley UU on Sunday morning during church service? I've been meaning to write about this for a few days, but had to calm down a little... As an American and human being, I'm saddened and horrified. As a gay, liberal, UU-ite, I'm a little pissed off. The main stream media is insanely quiet about this news story. If you want to read a little about it, the globe, the times, the knoxville news have some info; but all I can say is can you imagine the coverage if someone went into an evangelical mega-church and did the same thing??? in the name of "liberalism"??? The whole, bible-beating-beltway would be going nutso shaking their fists and plastic fetuses in the air.
As some of you might remember, we joined a UU this year, and when I hear about how the folks down there are responding, I'm a little proud. Also, I have to say, I'm glad that guy survived. Those parishioners took him down alive and- hey, enjoy jail, buddy! Maybe he'll end up in a rubber room, and that's fine by me too. But he went in there intending to keep killing people until he was killed and the gol'dang liberals stood up to protect each other, knocked him over, kicked his gun away, spilled his ammo all over the blood stained floor of their sanctuary, and held him until the poe-poe took him into custody.
2) Meanwhile, in Washington, a new report shows that the justice department under the current administration has been operating as a farm system for conservative lawyers and judges. US assistant attorney generals were fired for not toeing the line and not behaving in a partisan manner (that's old news) but also, hundreds and maybe thousands of applicants were asked questions about their political beliefs and affiliations (and that of their families) and were not interviewed or hired when they were deemed "not conservative enough". These are non-partisan posts, people. This is an egregious breech of protocol and also the um... what's that called again? Oh yeah, the law...
nice.
3) Down the road, at the capital, the House Arms Services Sub-committee was holding the first hearings on DADT in 10 years. John Stewart actually has the best commentary on this fiasco:
"If you've forgotten what the argument against gays in the military sounds like, ENJOY."
As some of you might remember, we joined a UU this year, and when I hear about how the folks down there are responding, I'm a little proud. Also, I have to say, I'm glad that guy survived. Those parishioners took him down alive and- hey, enjoy jail, buddy! Maybe he'll end up in a rubber room, and that's fine by me too. But he went in there intending to keep killing people until he was killed and the gol'dang liberals stood up to protect each other, knocked him over, kicked his gun away, spilled his ammo all over the blood stained floor of their sanctuary, and held him until the poe-poe took him into custody.
2) Meanwhile, in Washington, a new report shows that the justice department under the current administration has been operating as a farm system for conservative lawyers and judges. US assistant attorney generals were fired for not toeing the line and not behaving in a partisan manner (that's old news) but also, hundreds and maybe thousands of applicants were asked questions about their political beliefs and affiliations (and that of their families) and were not interviewed or hired when they were deemed "not conservative enough". These are non-partisan posts, people. This is an egregious breech of protocol and also the um... what's that called again? Oh yeah, the law...
nice.
3) Down the road, at the capital, the House Arms Services Sub-committee was holding the first hearings on DADT in 10 years. John Stewart actually has the best commentary on this fiasco:
"If you've forgotten what the argument against gays in the military sounds like, ENJOY."
Monday, July 28, 2008
Newsletter: Month 10
Dear JB,
Today you are 10 months old. It seems like a very short time and an eternity all at once. The part that really gets us is that in 2 months you will be ONE YEAR OLD! The time seems like it is going so fast. it's already hard to believe there was a time when you couldn't make funny faces, laugh, and eat food food!
There were a couple of momentous new developments in the last couple of weeks. First, you learned to crawl! People keep telling us that "it's all over now". By "it" I'm assuming they mean that because you are mobile our WHOLE LIFE is over, but, honestly, we're so excited that you can move around. It's better than the alternative: carrying your almost 20lb (and growing!) butt everywhere!
It is a little more labor intensive to watch and play with you because you are almost always non-stop. Before, you used to sit with your toys and hang for hours and we could watch you with one eyeball. Now you require two, sometimes four eyeballs and a few hands to keep you in line. You love your toys, especially the drum sticks Mommy got you from a parade that your Papa was in. Drumming seems to be a favorite activity. No real rhythm yet, but we'll work on that. You also consider the remote control, any telephone, and any glass we want to drink out of your personal toy. They get you moving fast enough to blur.
You pull yourself up on everything: tables, chairs, couches, legs, etc. Sometimes you use your teeth to get up that last inch to where you want to be. You're getting good at cruising around (especially if one of the above named objects is within eyesight!)
The second momentous development is that you have two teeth! Or, as Mac likes to point out, JB HAS TWO TEEFS! You've done pretty well so far with the large hard sharp objects poking through your tiny soft gums - seriously, that HAS to hurt. One of your circus tricks is to "play the tuba" on our cheeks but this sometimes devolves into a puncture wound because I'm not sure you 1. know you have teeth or 2. know what teeth are for.
We did some traveling this month. First to Brooklyn on the 4th of July to see the Womb Whisperer and her man, and HND and his man. You slept all the way there and then woke up with a fever of 102. Coxsackie had run rampant through the daycare that week and we thought for sure you made it out unscathed, but no. You were fussy and cranky but overall a total trooper.
The following day we picked up your Auntie Kate and went to NJ for Dr. R and Dr. U's wedding. You wore a traditional Indian kurti that was just divine. It matched your eyes and personality perfectly. You loved seeing the horse the groom arrived on and dancing with the crowd, and then sat very patiently and quietly through the whole ceremony.
You love love love to iChat with your Grannies in Ohio. Your 10 month birthday was also your Granna's birthday and we FINALLY got the i.Mac back on the internet just in time. You crawl right to the screen and try to touch their faces, and occasionally attempt to eat them. You definitely know they're there and we love when they make you giggle all the way from Ohio. It doesn't make up for the distance, but it helps.
You have become a regular at our softball games. We play two nights a week in the summer and come with us almost every time. There is no dearth of open arms waiting to some Jake time around there - our teammates are JB junkies!
The noises you make are now wide and varied. You have ba, da, ma and occasionally ga down pat. You seem to know exactly what we're saying to you most of the time, and you choose whether or not to pay attention. You communicate in all kinds of ways - including spitting your food at us when you're all done. Or happy. Or saying hi. The inflection in your voice is getting more varied but your favorite sound is still a simple, guttural yell.
We continue to feel blessed each and every day you wake us up at 5:15am. You are such a sweet boy that loves to snuggle and giggle. They love you at daycare, and pretty much anywhere we take you people want to stop and say hi to the boy with "those big blue eyes". Some days we still can't believe you're here and frequently well up with tears in gratitude for the joy you bring us.
With hearts overflowing,
Your Mommies
Today you are 10 months old. It seems like a very short time and an eternity all at once. The part that really gets us is that in 2 months you will be ONE YEAR OLD! The time seems like it is going so fast. it's already hard to believe there was a time when you couldn't make funny faces, laugh, and eat food food!
There were a couple of momentous new developments in the last couple of weeks. First, you learned to crawl! People keep telling us that "it's all over now". By "it" I'm assuming they mean that because you are mobile our WHOLE LIFE is over, but, honestly, we're so excited that you can move around. It's better than the alternative: carrying your almost 20lb (and growing!) butt everywhere!
It is a little more labor intensive to watch and play with you because you are almost always non-stop. Before, you used to sit with your toys and hang for hours and we could watch you with one eyeball. Now you require two, sometimes four eyeballs and a few hands to keep you in line. You love your toys, especially the drum sticks Mommy got you from a parade that your Papa was in. Drumming seems to be a favorite activity. No real rhythm yet, but we'll work on that. You also consider the remote control, any telephone, and any glass we want to drink out of your personal toy. They get you moving fast enough to blur.
You pull yourself up on everything: tables, chairs, couches, legs, etc. Sometimes you use your teeth to get up that last inch to where you want to be. You're getting good at cruising around (especially if one of the above named objects is within eyesight!)
The second momentous development is that you have two teeth! Or, as Mac likes to point out, JB HAS TWO TEEFS! You've done pretty well so far with the large hard sharp objects poking through your tiny soft gums - seriously, that HAS to hurt. One of your circus tricks is to "play the tuba" on our cheeks but this sometimes devolves into a puncture wound because I'm not sure you 1. know you have teeth or 2. know what teeth are for.We did some traveling this month. First to Brooklyn on the 4th of July to see the Womb Whisperer and her man, and HND and his man. You slept all the way there and then woke up with a fever of 102. Coxsackie had run rampant through the daycare that week and we thought for sure you made it out unscathed, but no. You were fussy and cranky but overall a total trooper.
The following day we picked up your Auntie Kate and went to NJ for Dr. R and Dr. U's wedding. You wore a traditional Indian kurti that was just divine. It matched your eyes and personality perfectly. You loved seeing the horse the groom arrived on and dancing with the crowd, and then sat very patiently and quietly through the whole ceremony.
You love love love to iChat with your Grannies in Ohio. Your 10 month birthday was also your Granna's birthday and we FINALLY got the i.Mac back on the internet just in time. You crawl right to the screen and try to touch their faces, and occasionally attempt to eat them. You definitely know they're there and we love when they make you giggle all the way from Ohio. It doesn't make up for the distance, but it helps.
You have become a regular at our softball games. We play two nights a week in the summer and come with us almost every time. There is no dearth of open arms waiting to some Jake time around there - our teammates are JB junkies!
The noises you make are now wide and varied. You have ba, da, ma and occasionally ga down pat. You seem to know exactly what we're saying to you most of the time, and you choose whether or not to pay attention. You communicate in all kinds of ways - including spitting your food at us when you're all done. Or happy. Or saying hi. The inflection in your voice is getting more varied but your favorite sound is still a simple, guttural yell.
We continue to feel blessed each and every day you wake us up at 5:15am. You are such a sweet boy that loves to snuggle and giggle. They love you at daycare, and pretty much anywhere we take you people want to stop and say hi to the boy with "those big blue eyes". Some days we still can't believe you're here and frequently well up with tears in gratitude for the joy you bring us.
With hearts overflowing,
Your Mommies
Thursday, July 24, 2008
While we were in high school, he played the pirate in Pirates of Penzance. Now, directing a video for Coldplay:
Seriously, treating diabetes is SO much more glamorous.
Seriously, treating diabetes is SO much more glamorous.
Petition signing
An opportunity to quietly and easily voice your opposition to banning same-sex marrige.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Sad Anniversary
At just about this moment last year, katy called me at work to say,
"Dr P called out sick."
"What?!?" I responded in mock alarm.
That was so unlike him, it was newsworthy...
Little did we know that the term "newsworthy" was about to become the central, understated adjective. Nor did we know that at that moment they were all still alive, but not for much longer.
More updates followed: "I guess he's in W. Hospital... He must have had a heart attack or something b/c otherwise they would have taken him here... We can't get in touch with Jen..."
Then the next call: "They're gone. Jen and the girls are gone."
At eight months pregnant, I was just getting the feeling that "everything was gonna be alright." In terms of our baby and the impending delivery, my fears were turning into confidence and excitement.
In a flash I was weakly shouting into the phone: "What do you mean?!? What are you talking about?!?" I couldn't hear that she didn't have all the details. My instincts told me to get more out of her and tell her, "Get out of there- GET OUT OF THERE- Get OUT of THAT office..." Fight or Flight inside of me translated to: Her safety is my safety; my safety is our baby's safety; and I swear my first cogent thought was, "If this is some kind of mob hit, her location is next."
Get. Out.
Hit.the.deck.
And the crawl the fuck out of there.
NOW!
Admittedly, I was starting to lose it... Katy, stunned, trying to hold herself together, and momentarily regretting her decision to tell me this over the phone, asserted that she was safe, we were safe, and perhaps I should call my mother. I did just that and was crying before I even got the information out to my mom. We didn't know who did this, why they did it, or if more things would follow. Since learning the answers to these questions, I realize that I was seeking to believe that the societal contract had not been broken. i was clinging to a sense of normalcy that would never exist again. Somehow the what, why, how should have comforted us and provided a measure of security; but coping in the aftermath of a violent, truly random crime teaches you one or two things about how false any "sense of security" might be. There's no truth to the perception that if you "follow the rules," you and your family will be safe.
The last thing JHP ever said to me was, "I can't wait until this baby is born." I thought about that over and over again in the days after her death. The last thing I ever expected was to be attending her funeral with him still inside of me. That day, I'll never forget, the baby was going NUTS inside of me. I don't know if he was responding to my stress hormones, or if the length of time I was seated made us both uncomfortable, or if it was just his normal amount of activity that I perceived differently. It was one of the only times in my pregnancy that I could barely (mentally) handle that there was a thing inside of me... I was aching with anxiety and needed my space and this kid was crawling, and scratching and groping me from the inside. I wanted to scream... run screaming, but that was obviously due to more things than the baby.
We don't talk about it much. Especially katy. She learned her lesson early when i sent her to therapy and when she brought up the reason for her visit, her therapist started her own diatribe about how hard this has been for her and her family. This has been a prominent topic all over our state this year, but Katy has rarely opened up about it. She has endured a year of pt visits full of sobbing elderly men and their vengeful wives. The detailed depictions of revenge out of the mouths of grandmoms stuck with her in a more upsetting way than the wordless crying of the grandpops. Their doctor's family had been killed and they needed to talk about it even more than they needed their prescriptions refilled. At times too exhausted by her own grief to protest, Katy sat on the sidelines listening, to her patients, to her pregnant wife, even to her therapist- one part of her not willing to compete for support or "grief status" and another part expertly compartmentalizing.
We still shy away from acknowledging that this happened to us because, I mean... it didn't happen to us. But, it kind of did. In a completely startling way, the way the WTC coming down on sept 11th happened to "all of us," the torture and murder of this family happened to everyone who's heard the story. There seems to be something disgusting about "jockeying for position," but if we can ignore that for a moment- this did happen to our family in a much more personal way than to the towns' people in general.
Our friends are gone- so it turns our stomach a little more to see them in still-frame on the TV, and it burns our guts when we hear people say, "He's doing better than I expected." We go a little crazy when we hear ass-hats assert what they would do ("I would just kill myself") or what they "would have done" if they were the dad or were in the house. And we generally ache for what will never be- dancing together at weddings, celebrations of graduations, loads of un-delivered jokes and advice...
Over and over this year I've tried to stop imagining what it must have been like for them in that house. They must have at some point (fear aside, torment aside, danger aside) been thinking, "YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME?!?
THIS CAN NOT BE ACTUALLY HAPPENING."
When I can't help myself out of the semi-destructive mindset of "What must have been going on in there," I seek some glimmer of comfort in the nightmare. i find what I seek in the idea that an extreme sense of irony and disbelief might have crawled into their minds at certain points. A break from fear or pain.
"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME?!?
THIS CAN NOT BE ACTUALLY HAPPENING."
The mind's way of looking for the punchline of the joke. I don't know why that comforts me, but it is something about the human spirit transcending misery and taking a moment to normalize the abnormal, to acknowledge and protest a glitch in the matrix...
It's raining now- intermittently drizzling and pouring- just like it was on the 23rd last year...
Katy and I will spend the day separately- occasionally considering the insanity, of what has happened to our friends and by extension to us. We will spend a lot of the day trying not to think about it; or pretending that we are not thinking about it.
But just to put it out there, we miss these women. We hope they are somewhere having some fun. We hope they are watching over BPJr. We hope he can feel our good intentions towards him... we miss him too. He's done a good job of preserving their legacies. When we think about our friends, we find ourselves trying not to think about how they died, but how we can work like they did to make the world a better place...
"Dr P called out sick."
"What?!?" I responded in mock alarm.
That was so unlike him, it was newsworthy...
Little did we know that the term "newsworthy" was about to become the central, understated adjective. Nor did we know that at that moment they were all still alive, but not for much longer.
More updates followed: "I guess he's in W. Hospital... He must have had a heart attack or something b/c otherwise they would have taken him here... We can't get in touch with Jen..."
Then the next call: "They're gone. Jen and the girls are gone."
At eight months pregnant, I was just getting the feeling that "everything was gonna be alright." In terms of our baby and the impending delivery, my fears were turning into confidence and excitement.
In a flash I was weakly shouting into the phone: "What do you mean?!? What are you talking about?!?" I couldn't hear that she didn't have all the details. My instincts told me to get more out of her and tell her, "Get out of there- GET OUT OF THERE- Get OUT of THAT office..." Fight or Flight inside of me translated to: Her safety is my safety; my safety is our baby's safety; and I swear my first cogent thought was, "If this is some kind of mob hit, her location is next."
Get. Out.
Hit.the.deck.
And the crawl the fuck out of there.
NOW!
Admittedly, I was starting to lose it... Katy, stunned, trying to hold herself together, and momentarily regretting her decision to tell me this over the phone, asserted that she was safe, we were safe, and perhaps I should call my mother. I did just that and was crying before I even got the information out to my mom. We didn't know who did this, why they did it, or if more things would follow. Since learning the answers to these questions, I realize that I was seeking to believe that the societal contract had not been broken. i was clinging to a sense of normalcy that would never exist again. Somehow the what, why, how should have comforted us and provided a measure of security; but coping in the aftermath of a violent, truly random crime teaches you one or two things about how false any "sense of security" might be. There's no truth to the perception that if you "follow the rules," you and your family will be safe.
The last thing JHP ever said to me was, "I can't wait until this baby is born." I thought about that over and over again in the days after her death. The last thing I ever expected was to be attending her funeral with him still inside of me. That day, I'll never forget, the baby was going NUTS inside of me. I don't know if he was responding to my stress hormones, or if the length of time I was seated made us both uncomfortable, or if it was just his normal amount of activity that I perceived differently. It was one of the only times in my pregnancy that I could barely (mentally) handle that there was a thing inside of me... I was aching with anxiety and needed my space and this kid was crawling, and scratching and groping me from the inside. I wanted to scream... run screaming, but that was obviously due to more things than the baby.
We don't talk about it much. Especially katy. She learned her lesson early when i sent her to therapy and when she brought up the reason for her visit, her therapist started her own diatribe about how hard this has been for her and her family. This has been a prominent topic all over our state this year, but Katy has rarely opened up about it. She has endured a year of pt visits full of sobbing elderly men and their vengeful wives. The detailed depictions of revenge out of the mouths of grandmoms stuck with her in a more upsetting way than the wordless crying of the grandpops. Their doctor's family had been killed and they needed to talk about it even more than they needed their prescriptions refilled. At times too exhausted by her own grief to protest, Katy sat on the sidelines listening, to her patients, to her pregnant wife, even to her therapist- one part of her not willing to compete for support or "grief status" and another part expertly compartmentalizing.
We still shy away from acknowledging that this happened to us because, I mean... it didn't happen to us. But, it kind of did. In a completely startling way, the way the WTC coming down on sept 11th happened to "all of us," the torture and murder of this family happened to everyone who's heard the story. There seems to be something disgusting about "jockeying for position," but if we can ignore that for a moment- this did happen to our family in a much more personal way than to the towns' people in general.
Our friends are gone- so it turns our stomach a little more to see them in still-frame on the TV, and it burns our guts when we hear people say, "He's doing better than I expected." We go a little crazy when we hear ass-hats assert what they would do ("I would just kill myself") or what they "would have done" if they were the dad or were in the house. And we generally ache for what will never be- dancing together at weddings, celebrations of graduations, loads of un-delivered jokes and advice...
Over and over this year I've tried to stop imagining what it must have been like for them in that house. They must have at some point (fear aside, torment aside, danger aside) been thinking, "YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME?!?
THIS CAN NOT BE ACTUALLY HAPPENING."
When I can't help myself out of the semi-destructive mindset of "What must have been going on in there," I seek some glimmer of comfort in the nightmare. i find what I seek in the idea that an extreme sense of irony and disbelief might have crawled into their minds at certain points. A break from fear or pain.
"YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME?!?
THIS CAN NOT BE ACTUALLY HAPPENING."
The mind's way of looking for the punchline of the joke. I don't know why that comforts me, but it is something about the human spirit transcending misery and taking a moment to normalize the abnormal, to acknowledge and protest a glitch in the matrix...
It's raining now- intermittently drizzling and pouring- just like it was on the 23rd last year...
Katy and I will spend the day separately- occasionally considering the insanity, of what has happened to our friends and by extension to us. We will spend a lot of the day trying not to think about it; or pretending that we are not thinking about it.
But just to put it out there, we miss these women. We hope they are somewhere having some fun. We hope they are watching over BPJr. We hope he can feel our good intentions towards him... we miss him too. He's done a good job of preserving their legacies. When we think about our friends, we find ourselves trying not to think about how they died, but how we can work like they did to make the world a better place...
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Cake Wrecks
This is hilarious, and will be added to "Blogs we like ITRO" immediately!!!
Especially read the post entitled: The creepiness continues.
Hat tip: Joe
It's raining meds... hallelujah
What's the difference between an ear infection at 6 months, 7 months, or 8 months and an ear infection at 9 1/2 months old?
The older kid is stronger, smarter, more coordinated, more stubborn, and can spit the amoxicillin all over the room... Everything else is quite the same.
The older kid is stronger, smarter, more coordinated, more stubborn, and can spit the amoxicillin all over the room... Everything else is quite the same.
Consumer concern
Today, I stopped at my on-the-way-to work bagel and coffee place.
Instead of having the usual bacon, egg, and cheese, I tried the turkey, bacon, and cheese flat bread sandwich. Holy crow was it good... yum.
Anyway, this is the same place that give me a free dozen donuts when they first opened, and 50 cents too much in change at my last visit.
Today, I pulled up and the lady said, "I know you ordered a medium coffee, but we made you a large- it's okay... have a good day."
How long before this place goes out of business?
It takes a village
The night before last, I had a bad dream. It was a dream where all the kids were in danger. Not random, un-named danger, but a specific person threatening JB and his cousins. The person I dreamed about is someone I trust completely, who would never do anything to hurt these kids, but I woke up at about 2am and had a little conversation with myself:
Question posed to self: Are dreams things to take seriously and tuck away as some parcel of indisputable, not-necessarily-provable truth? Should this dream, for example, cause me to revisit what I think I know of a person? Is someone/something sending me a sign from a parallel place? Should I take heed that I might not know what I think I know? or ... Are bad dreams Non Sequiturs? To be "shaken off" and not taken literally or even seriously?
While I was imagining some pros and cons related to both aspects of this question, the baby whimpered 2 rooms away. Worried he was still feverish and wanting to comfort him before he completely woke (or woke Kt) I went in to check on him. My heart nearly stopped in it's cage: he was still asleep, but the side rail was down. He's a climber now, we are careful with side rails, but somehow this danger was waiting for him... like, I mean, someone was waking me, warning me... there's no question in my mind.
I locked the boy in, stroked his hot head, and whispered a prayer of gratitude. Thank heavens for well timed nightmares.
Question posed to self: Are dreams things to take seriously and tuck away as some parcel of indisputable, not-necessarily-provable truth? Should this dream, for example, cause me to revisit what I think I know of a person? Is someone/something sending me a sign from a parallel place? Should I take heed that I might not know what I think I know? or ... Are bad dreams Non Sequiturs? To be "shaken off" and not taken literally or even seriously?
While I was imagining some pros and cons related to both aspects of this question, the baby whimpered 2 rooms away. Worried he was still feverish and wanting to comfort him before he completely woke (or woke Kt) I went in to check on him. My heart nearly stopped in it's cage: he was still asleep, but the side rail was down. He's a climber now, we are careful with side rails, but somehow this danger was waiting for him... like, I mean, someone was waking me, warning me... there's no question in my mind.
I locked the boy in, stroked his hot head, and whispered a prayer of gratitude. Thank heavens for well timed nightmares.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Those days
I'm having a few of "those days". By that I mean, I'm totally overwhelmed at the moment. We're running around, just like we always do, sucking up every single ounce of life that might be available. Let's face it, it's what we do, and it's what we love. We love to work hard (though yesterday we both felt like caged animals and spent nearly half the afternoon trying to get each other out of our boredom by phone), play hard (softball in 90 degree heat is no easy task my friends), and laugh as much as possible. I have no example for that this week because we haven't laughed nearly enough.
Mostly because I'm being very difficult.
Anyone who has ever seen me hungry, tired, or (you might want to run for cover) both, knows that I can be... difficult. I'm sure there are some other choice words out there for what happens to me when I don't (or don't feel like I have) any reserves left. To put it lightly, I'm not nice. Worse, I'm totally unpredictable. I might be smiling one minute and the next you'll wonder where those teeth marks came from.
My lovely wife is a master (most of the time) at managing me. She calmly sticks with me while my head spins and I try to nip anyone who comes too close to my cage. And this week is no exception. We've had a run of interrupted sleep due to a certain 9 month old's new habit of waking up in the middle of the night to get some hugs, a dinner for work, and two softball games. And it's only Thursday. We've been away several weekends and are away again this weekend. Don't get me wrong, we'll be having serious fun, but we're still away.
So I've been having some of those days. I'm lucky to have a wife who knows these days are just part of the package and trusts me to work on making them as few in number as possible. And no matter how much I push against the busy-ness, I love it. I love feeling accomplished at work. I love love love that little boy even when I'm exhausted. And last night when I drove away from the softball field, 15 of the most fantastic women I know raised their hands to wave goodnight and I could almost see the gladness at having seen us and the well wishes for a safe drive home floating through the air.
That kind of day makes those other days worth it.
Mostly because I'm being very difficult.
Anyone who has ever seen me hungry, tired, or (you might want to run for cover) both, knows that I can be... difficult. I'm sure there are some other choice words out there for what happens to me when I don't (or don't feel like I have) any reserves left. To put it lightly, I'm not nice. Worse, I'm totally unpredictable. I might be smiling one minute and the next you'll wonder where those teeth marks came from.
My lovely wife is a master (most of the time) at managing me. She calmly sticks with me while my head spins and I try to nip anyone who comes too close to my cage. And this week is no exception. We've had a run of interrupted sleep due to a certain 9 month old's new habit of waking up in the middle of the night to get some hugs, a dinner for work, and two softball games. And it's only Thursday. We've been away several weekends and are away again this weekend. Don't get me wrong, we'll be having serious fun, but we're still away.
So I've been having some of those days. I'm lucky to have a wife who knows these days are just part of the package and trusts me to work on making them as few in number as possible. And no matter how much I push against the busy-ness, I love it. I love feeling accomplished at work. I love love love that little boy even when I'm exhausted. And last night when I drove away from the softball field, 15 of the most fantastic women I know raised their hands to wave goodnight and I could almost see the gladness at having seen us and the well wishes for a safe drive home floating through the air.
That kind of day makes those other days worth it.
Eggs
Today I made jb eggs for breakfast- egg yolks (egg whites are too dangerous for a small child, allergy-wise). He liked them, but it is a messier process with a little more gagging than the jarred food.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Down and crawling
Saturday, July 12... Mark it down as the day he crawled more than 5 or 6 hand-foot movements across the floor. The remote control was his objective.
Life changing phone call
Yesterday, I got a call from my sister that resulted in the first purposeful conversation I've ever had with Mac on the phone. We try to speak on the phone often- to get her used to the idea that we are there even if we aren't "right there." but it usually goes something like:
Me: Hi mac!
M: Hi
Me: how was school?
M: Hi, tt
Me: How is your sister cam-cam?
M: yeah.
Me: Did you eat dinner with Mommy and Daddy?
M: Hi, tt...
(buttons getting pushed)
etc.
Yesterday, my sister called and said that they would have to cancel our lunch plans because Mac would not take a nap. Slow on the uptake, I told her that was fine, and she should do whatever she needed to. Backing out of a previously scheduled appointment is much more my style than my sister's, but the incongruence was lost on me. I was too distracted by the precedent-setting: If I'm honest, there was an instant source of relief that my sister might change her schedule based on her kid's sleep cycle- This seemed like something that would come up for us in the future.
Then Web spoke more slowly and in a voice very much reserved for the humans on Sesame Street. ie: "Grover do you think you should steal that cookie from Cookie Monster?"
Web: No, tt, I'm sorry, we won't be able to come because Mac is not taking a nap.
Me: Ooooooooh... Is this for her benefit?
Web: yes.
Me: (feeling like someone who has just woken up) oh...
Web: Do you want to talk to tt?
Mac: (getting on the phone) TT, I not coming.
Me: What?!? You're not coming to papa's birthday?!?
Mac: No. I take no nap.
Me: Well, then take a nap, so that you can come.
Mac: No.
Me: But what about papa? and JB?? and Katy???
Mac: Katy and JB?
Me: Yeah, don't you want to see them?
Mac: Yeah.
Me: (over-acting like a bad soap star about to reveal a plot twist the audience has been anticipating for several months) Well, then you have to take a nap! So that you can come to papa's party and see Katy and JB!?!?!
Mac: (unimpressed with the drama) Yeah.
Me: So, we'll see you later after your nap?
Mac: On the Dora bed?
Me: Yes, take a nap on the Dora bed... and then come to lunch
Mac: Okay. Bye tt.
Web: (Returning to the phone with her Sesame Street voice still on) Okay, tt, we'll see you when Mac wakes up from her nap.
I hung up the phone and started cackling. Katy looks over like, "What now?" Only the most awesome phone conversation I've ever had with the Mac-attack!!! The brilliance of my sister's parenting tactics are rarely lost on me, but this was the first time the strategy of tag-team persuasion has been used via phone. Also, it was Mac's first official attempt at an independent RSVP.
More important, the door has been opened for the, "call your aunt and take it up with her," type of back and forth that I look forward to as one of the true benefits of sisters raising kids that are close in age.
Me: Hi mac!
M: Hi
Me: how was school?
M: Hi, tt
Me: How is your sister cam-cam?
M: yeah.
Me: Did you eat dinner with Mommy and Daddy?
M: Hi, tt...
(buttons getting pushed)
etc.
Yesterday, my sister called and said that they would have to cancel our lunch plans because Mac would not take a nap. Slow on the uptake, I told her that was fine, and she should do whatever she needed to. Backing out of a previously scheduled appointment is much more my style than my sister's, but the incongruence was lost on me. I was too distracted by the precedent-setting: If I'm honest, there was an instant source of relief that my sister might change her schedule based on her kid's sleep cycle- This seemed like something that would come up for us in the future.
Then Web spoke more slowly and in a voice very much reserved for the humans on Sesame Street. ie: "Grover do you think you should steal that cookie from Cookie Monster?"
Web: No, tt, I'm sorry, we won't be able to come because Mac is not taking a nap.
Me: Ooooooooh... Is this for her benefit?
Web: yes.
Me: (feeling like someone who has just woken up) oh...
Web: Do you want to talk to tt?
Mac: (getting on the phone) TT, I not coming.
Me: What?!? You're not coming to papa's birthday?!?
Mac: No. I take no nap.
Me: Well, then take a nap, so that you can come.
Mac: No.
Me: But what about papa? and JB?? and Katy???
Mac: Katy and JB?
Me: Yeah, don't you want to see them?
Mac: Yeah.
Me: (over-acting like a bad soap star about to reveal a plot twist the audience has been anticipating for several months) Well, then you have to take a nap! So that you can come to papa's party and see Katy and JB!?!?!
Mac: (unimpressed with the drama) Yeah.
Me: So, we'll see you later after your nap?
Mac: On the Dora bed?
Me: Yes, take a nap on the Dora bed... and then come to lunch
Mac: Okay. Bye tt.
Web: (Returning to the phone with her Sesame Street voice still on) Okay, tt, we'll see you when Mac wakes up from her nap.
I hung up the phone and started cackling. Katy looks over like, "What now?" Only the most awesome phone conversation I've ever had with the Mac-attack!!! The brilliance of my sister's parenting tactics are rarely lost on me, but this was the first time the strategy of tag-team persuasion has been used via phone. Also, it was Mac's first official attempt at an independent RSVP.
More important, the door has been opened for the, "call your aunt and take it up with her," type of back and forth that I look forward to as one of the true benefits of sisters raising kids that are close in age.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Where do you find the time?
We watched a DVR'd episode of wipeout yesterday.
I know 99.99% of you have not seen this show, but when I set the DVR I just felt like, "I have got to see this insanity at least once." It is on A.B.C. and is followed by a show called, "I survived a Japanese game show."
Summer tv is a freaking horror show.
I didn't expect wipeout to be anything other than what it was. (Honestly, though, I wasn't expecting the 30,000 times an announcer found a way to work the word "balls" into the commentary.)
So even though, I couldn't look away from the travesty, that's about 33 minutes of my life (ff'ing through commercials and other lame parts) that I'll never get back...
So what. After watching that show, my brain is mushier, my body is flabbier. But it reminds me of one of the reasons I blog. Namely, because I have the time.
My parents are 2 of the people that (though they have always encouraged me to write more) whenever the blog is mentioned say, "I don't know where you find the time..." It's ironic coming from my mother who last week alone, made several homemade bibs out of hand towels, while caring for 2-3 infants and toddlers around the clock.
Then there's my dad who will spend 45 minutes picking dandelion fuzz off the blades of grass on a certain section of his lawn; even after I've driven an adorable grand-baby 30 minutes to see him. Also, he's been known to play the fife for 7 to 22 hours on any given week in the summer. But he's baffled by my ability to find 20 to 60 minutes every few days to write about myself (or about them.)
To be fair, my parents haven't said this in a while, but a lot of people who spend a little time at the GSO are apt to remark: "I don't know where you find the time..."
I'm gonna say this: it doesn't take that much time.
I blog AND I still have time to watch an occasional episode of wipeout. That's just how I roll.
I have friends that do all kinds of things I don't do: exercise, clean house, apply makeup, blow-dry their hair...
I myself have list of items that go un-checked-off:
Returning the phone calls of people i care about and haven't seen, writing thank you notes for gifts given several months ago, getting my car to pass emissions, returning baby clothes that don't fit, laundering piles of underwear stored on the bedroom floor, dusting the treadmill that never gets used, etc.
My sister and i have a pet peeve about people who say, "I'm sorry I didn't XXX, I have just been so busy." I hate this statement b/c frankly it feels like pressure to be more wound up; an invitation into some kind of nauseating contest called, "I'm busier than you..." I think Web hates it because it would be a joke for someone to try to compete with her in this insane contest. She's been known to fly over 10,000 miles a week for work, put in the hours of a DA prosecuting OJ Simpson, host a pampered chef party, take my mother and grandmother out for pedicures, bake a batch of lollipop chocolate chip cookies for an ailing co-worker and still have the time to tease her older sister for showing up late to watch papa pick the dandelion fuzz off his lawn.
It's not that I am not busy. I assure you, we are as over-booked as the next group of lunatics. It is that no matter how "busy" someone is, there are always decisions involved about how an individual will use his/her time. Everyone gets the same number of hours in the day, right? Some people sleep more than others. Some people cope better than others. We all set our priorities, and the blog is a little gift I give myself; my way to produce media and not merely consume some trash that someone else produces. (wipeout.)
This guy, Clay Shirky plucks all the right notes in this tune if you ask me. (hat tip, Adam)
I know 99.99% of you have not seen this show, but when I set the DVR I just felt like, "I have got to see this insanity at least once." It is on A.B.C. and is followed by a show called, "I survived a Japanese game show."
Summer tv is a freaking horror show.
I didn't expect wipeout to be anything other than what it was. (Honestly, though, I wasn't expecting the 30,000 times an announcer found a way to work the word "balls" into the commentary.)
So even though, I couldn't look away from the travesty, that's about 33 minutes of my life (ff'ing through commercials and other lame parts) that I'll never get back...
So what. After watching that show, my brain is mushier, my body is flabbier. But it reminds me of one of the reasons I blog. Namely, because I have the time.
My parents are 2 of the people that (though they have always encouraged me to write more) whenever the blog is mentioned say, "I don't know where you find the time..." It's ironic coming from my mother who last week alone, made several homemade bibs out of hand towels, while caring for 2-3 infants and toddlers around the clock.
Then there's my dad who will spend 45 minutes picking dandelion fuzz off the blades of grass on a certain section of his lawn; even after I've driven an adorable grand-baby 30 minutes to see him. Also, he's been known to play the fife for 7 to 22 hours on any given week in the summer. But he's baffled by my ability to find 20 to 60 minutes every few days to write about myself (or about them.)
To be fair, my parents haven't said this in a while, but a lot of people who spend a little time at the GSO are apt to remark: "I don't know where you find the time..."
I'm gonna say this: it doesn't take that much time.
I blog AND I still have time to watch an occasional episode of wipeout. That's just how I roll.
I have friends that do all kinds of things I don't do: exercise, clean house, apply makeup, blow-dry their hair...
I myself have list of items that go un-checked-off:
Returning the phone calls of people i care about and haven't seen, writing thank you notes for gifts given several months ago, getting my car to pass emissions, returning baby clothes that don't fit, laundering piles of underwear stored on the bedroom floor, dusting the treadmill that never gets used, etc.
My sister and i have a pet peeve about people who say, "I'm sorry I didn't XXX, I have just been so busy." I hate this statement b/c frankly it feels like pressure to be more wound up; an invitation into some kind of nauseating contest called, "I'm busier than you..." I think Web hates it because it would be a joke for someone to try to compete with her in this insane contest. She's been known to fly over 10,000 miles a week for work, put in the hours of a DA prosecuting OJ Simpson, host a pampered chef party, take my mother and grandmother out for pedicures, bake a batch of lollipop chocolate chip cookies for an ailing co-worker and still have the time to tease her older sister for showing up late to watch papa pick the dandelion fuzz off his lawn.
It's not that I am not busy. I assure you, we are as over-booked as the next group of lunatics. It is that no matter how "busy" someone is, there are always decisions involved about how an individual will use his/her time. Everyone gets the same number of hours in the day, right? Some people sleep more than others. Some people cope better than others. We all set our priorities, and the blog is a little gift I give myself; my way to produce media and not merely consume some trash that someone else produces. (wipeout.)
This guy, Clay Shirky plucks all the right notes in this tune if you ask me. (hat tip, Adam)
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Climbing over a box
This video shows JB apparently stymied by a box (go over? try to go around? what do i do?!). And it finishes with JB and Tracy exchanging frat boy sounds and cracking themselves up. What's not to love??
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Day Care is quiet
When we picked JB's day care, we chose one in the town of Midpoint. Midpoint is half way between my work and home. It is also the town I grew up in, play softball in, and and the town my parents, grandparents, and sister & BIL live. Our day care was Mac and Cam's day care and that seemed like a good place for JB too- with his cousins.
Coxsackie spread like a wildfire through the place last week. Cam got it and JB got it too, though b/c he was home with Katy all week and b/c he only had one day of fever and the late arrival of a rash, we didn't know that until his pediatric appointment yesterday.
Cam was sick, my sister was away, and my mom is off for the summer, so the girls were at Nana and Papa's house all last week. Also, because of a self-imposed quarantine (thinking the boy had not been exposed) we stayed away all week. This week, there was a pre-arranged "week of potty training" for Mac-attack that has prolonged the sabbatical from day care for my nieces. (They are both at nana and papa's again b/c my mom cannot stand "leaving one behind," and at our day care, we can arrange a week at 1/2 off the day care price if you give notice that the kids will be out for a pre-planned 5 day stretch, unrelated to illness.)
I'm not sure if JB even notices it, but day care is quiet and lonely without my (sister's) girls there. Even pick up (despite JB's hugs and smiles) is little empty when there is no shout of "TeeeeeeeeTeeeee."
Drop off is even more depressing without my morning hug from Mac and wave from Cam... Driving away this AM, I pouted in silence most of the way to work.
Coxsackie spread like a wildfire through the place last week. Cam got it and JB got it too, though b/c he was home with Katy all week and b/c he only had one day of fever and the late arrival of a rash, we didn't know that until his pediatric appointment yesterday.
Cam was sick, my sister was away, and my mom is off for the summer, so the girls were at Nana and Papa's house all last week. Also, because of a self-imposed quarantine (thinking the boy had not been exposed) we stayed away all week. This week, there was a pre-arranged "week of potty training" for Mac-attack that has prolonged the sabbatical from day care for my nieces. (They are both at nana and papa's again b/c my mom cannot stand "leaving one behind," and at our day care, we can arrange a week at 1/2 off the day care price if you give notice that the kids will be out for a pre-planned 5 day stretch, unrelated to illness.)
I'm not sure if JB even notices it, but day care is quiet and lonely without my (sister's) girls there. Even pick up (despite JB's hugs and smiles) is little empty when there is no shout of "TeeeeeeeeTeeeee."
Drop off is even more depressing without my morning hug from Mac and wave from Cam... Driving away this AM, I pouted in silence most of the way to work.
9 month well-child visit
The kid went to the doctor yesterday.
He's awesome:
29 1/2 inches (90th percentile)
19 lbs 4 oz (30th percentile)
Dr L explained that this was fine. That breastfed babies usually drop in their weight curve- normal, nothing to worry about... When kids are as chunky-healthy-looking as ours, do parents really worry about a drop on the growth curve??? It honestly never occurred to me.
She checked his ears and they look good (big relief)
She thinks his rash is from coxsackie (see, we're not so crazy for all that worry-worting we did in the big city during his fever this weekend...)
She is pleased with his strength and development.
We love this practice. There's a male DO there who might be the sweetest dude I've ever had a conversation with. Katy and I both agree that we love him so much we privately consider changing to him, but we love the she-doc we picked as primary for JB too. When I was in the hospital Dr. sweet-boy-DO was the one on call all weekend. He was the only medical professional we vented to about my OB group, and it was like katy and I got to have a super-supportive hospital-husband for a few minutes a day. We think if JB wants when he is bigger, we'll offer him to change to a male provider.
He's awesome:
29 1/2 inches (90th percentile)
19 lbs 4 oz (30th percentile)
Dr L explained that this was fine. That breastfed babies usually drop in their weight curve- normal, nothing to worry about... When kids are as chunky-healthy-looking as ours, do parents really worry about a drop on the growth curve??? It honestly never occurred to me.
She checked his ears and they look good (big relief)
She thinks his rash is from coxsackie (see, we're not so crazy for all that worry-worting we did in the big city during his fever this weekend...)
She is pleased with his strength and development.
We love this practice. There's a male DO there who might be the sweetest dude I've ever had a conversation with. Katy and I both agree that we love him so much we privately consider changing to him, but we love the she-doc we picked as primary for JB too. When I was in the hospital Dr. sweet-boy-DO was the one on call all weekend. He was the only medical professional we vented to about my OB group, and it was like katy and I got to have a super-supportive hospital-husband for a few minutes a day. We think if JB wants when he is bigger, we'll offer him to change to a male provider.
Monday, July 07, 2008
Tiny dogs and instincts
Tonight, JB had his 2nd screaming match with a little dog.
A few weeks ago, he was low to the ground and a dog barked at him and he threw all four limbs out to each side and screamed a yelp that was at once adorable and new- we had never heard anything like it in pitch or intensity. Also noteworthy was that though he was clearly startled, he did not fall apart or cry. He gave this (insufficiently described above) yelp and looked to us to get him up higher... the noise he created startled the dog into backing up a little too.
Tonight, a friend was holding him, introducing him to the dog (one of those little, white, fluffy jobs) and JB went, "Ahhhhh." Then when that didn't work, "AAAAAAaaaahhhhhhhhh." and finally, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH." Again, he didn't start wailing or crying, but at that point, when I went to him, he grabbed me tightly around the neck. I reassured him and sat him down and we looked at the pooch together.
There is no doubt, he was a little frightened, but he was not terrified, or inconsolable, or unwilling to look and hang with the dog. It honestly seemed to me that he was warning the dog back, marking his space, and/or making his presence known. Once he knew we were with him, he even smiled at the tiny, furry, beast.
I am blown away by little kids; how they are all different, how they cope and learn. I love the animal instinct that played out in the scene described above and yet, I could practically see him "reasoning" his way through the experience. I don't know if this is just an isolated example, or emblematic his personality... something like, "I'm mellow, but don't mess with me, or I'll start barking."
Anyway, I could study this kid as a full time job. I think he's the bomb. I can't wait to find out all the ways he will grow and learn to push our buttons and become whoever he will be...
Sidebar about the "pushing our buttons" thing: Katy and I have been trying to teach JB to wave for weeks now. His cousin Cam (2 weeks younger) has been waving since before mother's day. JB claps and high-fives, but doesn't wave. Cam waves like miss america. She's got both the sweep-the-hand wave and the open-and-close-the-fingers wave. We sit them in front of each other and JB tries to slap Cam's waving hand to her discontented amazement. So, anyway, Katy and I wave hello, we wave goodbye. We move his hand to show him how to make the motions. We try to move his fingers open and closed. We play hello mama/mommy... goodbye mama/mommy for what seems like hours. He won't wave to us for anything. But 3 or 4 times now, we've caught him waving at things when he doesn't know we're looking... his bear, his blocks, and his new planet-mobile: hand opens, fingers spread and hanging out there, hand closes, hand opens- all fingers out, hand closes... It's an unmistakable wave.
We're like, "the little shit knows how to wave, he is just ignoring our begging... leaving us hanging... pretending he doesn't know what we are talking about."
Katy wants to get a t-shirt made for him that says, "I am not a circus animal."
A few weeks ago, he was low to the ground and a dog barked at him and he threw all four limbs out to each side and screamed a yelp that was at once adorable and new- we had never heard anything like it in pitch or intensity. Also noteworthy was that though he was clearly startled, he did not fall apart or cry. He gave this (insufficiently described above) yelp and looked to us to get him up higher... the noise he created startled the dog into backing up a little too.
Tonight, a friend was holding him, introducing him to the dog (one of those little, white, fluffy jobs) and JB went, "Ahhhhh." Then when that didn't work, "AAAAAAaaaahhhhhhhhh." and finally, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH." Again, he didn't start wailing or crying, but at that point, when I went to him, he grabbed me tightly around the neck. I reassured him and sat him down and we looked at the pooch together.
There is no doubt, he was a little frightened, but he was not terrified, or inconsolable, or unwilling to look and hang with the dog. It honestly seemed to me that he was warning the dog back, marking his space, and/or making his presence known. Once he knew we were with him, he even smiled at the tiny, furry, beast.
I am blown away by little kids; how they are all different, how they cope and learn. I love the animal instinct that played out in the scene described above and yet, I could practically see him "reasoning" his way through the experience. I don't know if this is just an isolated example, or emblematic his personality... something like, "I'm mellow, but don't mess with me, or I'll start barking."
Anyway, I could study this kid as a full time job. I think he's the bomb. I can't wait to find out all the ways he will grow and learn to push our buttons and become whoever he will be...
Sidebar about the "pushing our buttons" thing: Katy and I have been trying to teach JB to wave for weeks now. His cousin Cam (2 weeks younger) has been waving since before mother's day. JB claps and high-fives, but doesn't wave. Cam waves like miss america. She's got both the sweep-the-hand wave and the open-and-close-the-fingers wave. We sit them in front of each other and JB tries to slap Cam's waving hand to her discontented amazement. So, anyway, Katy and I wave hello, we wave goodbye. We move his hand to show him how to make the motions. We try to move his fingers open and closed. We play hello mama/mommy... goodbye mama/mommy for what seems like hours. He won't wave to us for anything. But 3 or 4 times now, we've caught him waving at things when he doesn't know we're looking... his bear, his blocks, and his new planet-mobile: hand opens, fingers spread and hanging out there, hand closes, hand opens- all fingers out, hand closes... It's an unmistakable wave.
We're like, "the little shit knows how to wave, he is just ignoring our begging... leaving us hanging... pretending he doesn't know what we are talking about."
Katy wants to get a t-shirt made for him that says, "I am not a circus animal."
Wedding fun
We went to my colleague's wedding this weekend and had a grand time. More on that later. For now, just a picture of the boy with his awesome outfit on (thanks to the bride).
Friday, July 04, 2008
For the love of quarters
Yesterday, I stopped at my favorite orange and pink logo-ed fast food coffee joint to pick up an over-sugared, high fat vehicle for caffeine and a starchy, eggy with porky thingy.
The total was $5.97. I immediately started the mental arithmetic to calculate which tiny coins I could unload in order to secure the highest number of quarters in change. I have an irrational affinity for quarters. I would rather have 3 quarters than just about any other combination of coins worth more than seventy-five cents. At in the drive through window, I handed the lady a five dollar bill and 47 cents in pennies, nickels, and dimes.
She returned to me a one dollar bill with a smile and a "thank you."
I stammered a protest... "No, that's too much... I gave you $0.47"
She smiled at me the way one might smile at a midget recounting his slam-dunking prowess.
I waved the crisp bill at her, "You only owe me fifty cents."
Putting both her hands up, she seemed to want to remind me to keep calm. As I stammered on, her dazed smile revealed a glimmer of fatigue. With disbelief that I had not yet driven away, her pity-filled eyes mocked my enthusiasm. "Really?" she might as well have asked, "You slam it in there without a trampoline or even a spring board???"
I looked at the dollar and then at her and sadly resigned myself to the fact that there would be no quarters for me during this transaction. Plainly I told her, "You gave me too much money back."
"Don't worry about it." She added, "Have a good day."
As I pulled away, I had to remind myself a few times, "one dollar is better than 2 quarters." It didn't feel like the victory-rush "found" money provides a rational person.
When I told kt the story, she reminded me of the dude on the street a few weeks ago who "sold" me 2 quarters for a dollar. I was searching for money for a parking meter and he didn't have 4 quarters. Rather than offer me the standard, "Don't worry about it," that I sort of expected, he picked up my dollar and said, these will have to do. Then he dropped 2 coins into my palm. For me, there was no economic reason to protest that transaction. I only needed 2 quarters and I was happy to take a fifty cent loss to prevent a $25 parking ticket.
From my perspective, I'm now down 4 quarters. Though the karma of quarters is profoundly imbalanced, it's funny that the universe found a way to return 50 cents to me.
The total was $5.97. I immediately started the mental arithmetic to calculate which tiny coins I could unload in order to secure the highest number of quarters in change. I have an irrational affinity for quarters. I would rather have 3 quarters than just about any other combination of coins worth more than seventy-five cents. At in the drive through window, I handed the lady a five dollar bill and 47 cents in pennies, nickels, and dimes.
She returned to me a one dollar bill with a smile and a "thank you."
I stammered a protest... "No, that's too much... I gave you $0.47"
She smiled at me the way one might smile at a midget recounting his slam-dunking prowess.
I waved the crisp bill at her, "You only owe me fifty cents."
Putting both her hands up, she seemed to want to remind me to keep calm. As I stammered on, her dazed smile revealed a glimmer of fatigue. With disbelief that I had not yet driven away, her pity-filled eyes mocked my enthusiasm. "Really?" she might as well have asked, "You slam it in there without a trampoline or even a spring board???"
I looked at the dollar and then at her and sadly resigned myself to the fact that there would be no quarters for me during this transaction. Plainly I told her, "You gave me too much money back."
"Don't worry about it." She added, "Have a good day."
As I pulled away, I had to remind myself a few times, "one dollar is better than 2 quarters." It didn't feel like the victory-rush "found" money provides a rational person.
When I told kt the story, she reminded me of the dude on the street a few weeks ago who "sold" me 2 quarters for a dollar. I was searching for money for a parking meter and he didn't have 4 quarters. Rather than offer me the standard, "Don't worry about it," that I sort of expected, he picked up my dollar and said, these will have to do. Then he dropped 2 coins into my palm. For me, there was no economic reason to protest that transaction. I only needed 2 quarters and I was happy to take a fifty cent loss to prevent a $25 parking ticket.
From my perspective, I'm now down 4 quarters. Though the karma of quarters is profoundly imbalanced, it's funny that the universe found a way to return 50 cents to me.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Mad skills
My kid has mad skills: the first part is showing off the fact that he has realized he owns at least one hand. The second is his new mode of ambulation.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
The mess he made...
I'm home from work for a couple of days after being away at a conference. So we played at home to avoid any more potential exposure to that coxsackie nonsense (which poor cam-cam seems to have contracted):
I think he learned to wave today. Or at least he learned the motion; I'm not convinced he knows what it's for, or even that it's his own hand moving. Video evidence to follow.
I think he learned to wave today. Or at least he learned the motion; I'm not convinced he knows what it's for, or even that it's his own hand moving. Video evidence to follow.
Things are looking up in the gayborhood
Katy nearly made me crap my pants by screaming:
"OHHHH MY GOD...
OHMYGOD...HE'S...HE'S..."
Let me set the stage: I'm blogging in a procrastinatory effort to avoid leaving for work. JB is in the crib a room away, zoning out for his substitute "commute nap" (he normally falls asleep for the 1/2 hr ride on his way to school, but when he stays home or it is a non-school day, we still call it a 'commute nap'.) Katy is also a room away when the panicked shouting begins...
My heart stops and then starts pounding fast. I jump up to see what the WHAT is... for some reason, I've heard her say "HE IS ON THE ROOF!" I don't know who I think she might be referring to, but I don't want anyone on the roof at all right now...
"WHAT IS IT..." i shout, running towards her...
She is looking out the window of our guest room out the street: "HE'S RUNNING. HE'S RUNNING OUTSIDE." At this point, I pray to god she doesn't mean the baby or some stranger that has taken the baby...
"WHO IS RUNNING?!?"
"THE NEIGHBOR! HE'S RUNNING. OUTSIDE. FOR EXERCISE!!!"
Once I understand this is unrelated to our child- which took a few respiratory cycles of time,
I accept all the shouting as appropriate and WNL. For 3 years we never saw our neighbor move at all around the outdoors without a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He is slender and active: he's the dude with the fairytale-like lawn and yard, but he is a big time smoker and by "active" i mean push a mower with a butt in your mouth. A few months back, he had a heart attack and was hospitalized for a week. He didn't feel good on the cardiac and cholesterol meds and he made some "changes". They told us that between the 2 of them, our neighbors were spending $500 a month- wholesale, buying cigarettes online. This spring they both quit. Last month, when kt was jogging, he said, "I gotta get out there too."
We never thought we'd see the day, but this morning, the day arrived. In all the excitement, I think i need a stress test now.
"OHHHH MY GOD...
OHMYGOD...HE'S...HE'S..."
Let me set the stage: I'm blogging in a procrastinatory effort to avoid leaving for work. JB is in the crib a room away, zoning out for his substitute "commute nap" (he normally falls asleep for the 1/2 hr ride on his way to school, but when he stays home or it is a non-school day, we still call it a 'commute nap'.) Katy is also a room away when the panicked shouting begins...
My heart stops and then starts pounding fast. I jump up to see what the WHAT is... for some reason, I've heard her say "HE IS ON THE ROOF!" I don't know who I think she might be referring to, but I don't want anyone on the roof at all right now...
"WHAT IS IT..." i shout, running towards her...
She is looking out the window of our guest room out the street: "HE'S RUNNING. HE'S RUNNING OUTSIDE." At this point, I pray to god she doesn't mean the baby or some stranger that has taken the baby...
"WHO IS RUNNING?!?"
"THE NEIGHBOR! HE'S RUNNING. OUTSIDE. FOR EXERCISE!!!"
Once I understand this is unrelated to our child- which took a few respiratory cycles of time,
I accept all the shouting as appropriate and WNL. For 3 years we never saw our neighbor move at all around the outdoors without a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He is slender and active: he's the dude with the fairytale-like lawn and yard, but he is a big time smoker and by "active" i mean push a mower with a butt in your mouth. A few months back, he had a heart attack and was hospitalized for a week. He didn't feel good on the cardiac and cholesterol meds and he made some "changes". They told us that between the 2 of them, our neighbors were spending $500 a month- wholesale, buying cigarettes online. This spring they both quit. Last month, when kt was jogging, he said, "I gotta get out there too."
We never thought we'd see the day, but this morning, the day arrived. In all the excitement, I think i need a stress test now.
Mama's home
Kt came home last night. JB was very excited to see her. Me too. Being a single mom is exhausting, but being without my boo makes me feel a little lost in the wilderness that is mundane, suburban life. She was only gone 4 days but in that time, I got a little sore throat, 2 sties, my period, and managed to turn the homestead into a flop house...
JB popped his second tooth (Mr Rightie on the bottom next to a rapidly growing Mr Lefty), went swimming in a real pool for the first time, learned how to ooh-waa-ooh-waah (make varied noises with his hand on and off his mouth like a caricature of an Indian), and really started creeping (he will move 3 or 4 feet toward an object he wants like the remote control or our cell phones.) He is becoming such a big boy.
Coxsackie is at the day care. There was a big poster on the door yesterday morning, like a medieval decree. This is a virus that used to be called hoof and mouth disease, then "hand, foot, and mouth disease," Now, as my mother says, "cock-sack-y?!? That seems like a crazy name!?!"
Anyway, JB was a little listless and "not himself this weekend". I put that in quotes because he changes all the time so, it is hard to know if something "new" is the "new normal". Anyway, he was sleeping more and eating less than he usually does, so that could be anything like the heat, or the teeth, or the missing mama, or a boy trying to grow... but now we're waiting to see if a fever and/or spots follow. Cammy felt a little warm last night, but she's the same age as JB and that could be all the above mentioned things too.
JB popped his second tooth (Mr Rightie on the bottom next to a rapidly growing Mr Lefty), went swimming in a real pool for the first time, learned how to ooh-waa-ooh-waah (make varied noises with his hand on and off his mouth like a caricature of an Indian), and really started creeping (he will move 3 or 4 feet toward an object he wants like the remote control or our cell phones.) He is becoming such a big boy.
Coxsackie is at the day care. There was a big poster on the door yesterday morning, like a medieval decree. This is a virus that used to be called hoof and mouth disease, then "hand, foot, and mouth disease," Now, as my mother says, "cock-sack-y?!? That seems like a crazy name!?!"
Anyway, JB was a little listless and "not himself this weekend". I put that in quotes because he changes all the time so, it is hard to know if something "new" is the "new normal". Anyway, he was sleeping more and eating less than he usually does, so that could be anything like the heat, or the teeth, or the missing mama, or a boy trying to grow... but now we're waiting to see if a fever and/or spots follow. Cammy felt a little warm last night, but she's the same age as JB and that could be all the above mentioned things too.
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