JB: (stalling at bedtime) Mommy?
T: Yes.
JB: Mommy, it's raining outside.
T: (practically speechless from the shock of all those words strung together in such a precise and perfect way) Yes.
JB: (pausing for effect) It's pouring.
T: (blink. blink. blink. blinking back a tear of pure love) Yes it it.
He's a very good negotiator.
I don't think I'm a softy at all...
I think that he earned an extra few minutes at bedtime all by himself with that display.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Back from Vacation and ready for some full time nesting
For those of you not friends with us on FB, a lot has happened that you've missed. (Sorry, you know that GSO readers are my real true friends, right?)
Since I got my iphone (let's call her Lil'cutie) I've been able to check all my Internet haunts regularly and my email, but I can't blog from there without buying a $10 app that I'm not sure is fully functional yet. So the blog has suffered a little since Lil'cutie started living in my pocket.
The day before vacation (July 9th), I got a stomach bug, we sold our house, we packed for our trip, we saw 4 houses as potential new homes, and we fled the state to hit the beach.
Two days later, I had a minor sunburn, the inspection was conducted, we all got re-oriented to salt air and sand, Katy and I spent more than a few moments panicking about the "mess" we had gotten ourselves into. It wasn't just that we sold the house at a slight loss (I mean the economy is in the toilet and presumably we will make it up on the other end). It was that we had never fully comprehended the costs on the selling end and also now we would be moving once (IF NOT TWICE) in the 4-8 weeds surrounding the birth of our 2nd child.
We rationalized our way out of the mental anguish, made several financial and logistical contingency plans, plotted alternatives to all of those, figured out how we would make it work at every level, and just when excitement started creeping around the corner, the buyer rescinded his offer. RollerccccccccccoooooOOOOOOOSSSSTTTTTERRRRRRRRRRRR!
CLICK.CLICK.CLICK. WHEEEEeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEE
There was a tiny bit of anger or rather frustration. Thank God we were away, b/c if not I would have had at least 3 rooms in my house packed and stacked in boxes and probably a 1/2 full POD in my driveway. Then instead of being disappointed and disjointed, I would have had to go out and find that guy and it would'a been a mess. I don't mind an amusement ride, but that would have pushed me over the edge.
While we were away, we had perfect weather, got some tans, and I got a concussion. Falling out of the back of my sister's minivan was not my most proud moment. We (adults) were taking turns climbing out of the way-back because 3 car seats were taking up the entire second row and obstructing the fire exits. It was very adorable to see all the "Ruggies" side by side, strapped in in their matching car seats, but evidently, it was also life-threatening.
I'll admit that I'm clumsily stumbly on a good day, but I really do get around okay. I have this weak left ankle that rolls without warning or consequence. I can be walking down the street, roll the ankle, recover in some jerky movement that would knock a gymnast's score down an entire point for her landing, but ambulate away without ankle pain or other damage. This happens on average, 4 times a week. I've come to think of it as part of my gait. So, I stepped down, off the bumper of the minivan, onto my unreliable left foot, and the ankle rolled. One minute I was vertical. The next, I was on my back- head bouncing off the asphalt. I heard Lil'cutie fall out of my pocket in a plastic crash.
The sky was so blue. (I see Blue... He looks glorious.)
I heard footsteps. Katy and Web were immediately by my side to confirmed my my mental status (dazed but alert and oriented X3) and help me wiggle out of the middle of the parking lot. I heard a lot of people offering to call 9-1-1, so it must have looked bad. Katy was not pleased about it. She did not appreciate the site of the bounding cranium or the laying motionless for 90 seconds on my back on the pavement... I think she took those 90 seconds to imagine life with 2 boys and no wife, or a wife that spent most of her days drooling. ("THAT'S NOT FUNNY" She's shouting in the background as she reads this.)
A little nausea for a day, a bad headache for 2-3, some jaw pain, and a tender scalp for a week now, but really it could have been worse.
We're taking the house off the market so that we can have this baby without strangers running in and out getting all into our business; and so we can let our house get messy again, and whatnot. The vacation, the ocean, the time away with family (and maybe the bump on the head) have really seemed to help chill me out a little. The pressure is off; which just goes to show you how much "pressure" has kind of been on (It's practically irrational that someone would say, "The pressure is off" as her wife enters the last 6 weeks of her pregnancy.)
It's becoming apparent that we have been running on fumes and have not been paying much attention to the Bean v2.0 except to know that he is kicking and moving and growing in there (And he's makin' his mama's ankles all swollen.)
Now we can focus on the end of the race (Sept 10th due date) and really stop for a few moments to let the summer sweat sting our wide open, attentive eyes; and let the fear of parenting 2 children combined with Katy's extreme state of pregnancy be the undiluted reasons we can't sleep at night. We're practically peeing our pants in anticipation. (Well, one of us is practically peeing her pants for other reasons too.)
Since I got my iphone (let's call her Lil'cutie) I've been able to check all my Internet haunts regularly and my email, but I can't blog from there without buying a $10 app that I'm not sure is fully functional yet. So the blog has suffered a little since Lil'cutie started living in my pocket.
The day before vacation (July 9th), I got a stomach bug, we sold our house, we packed for our trip, we saw 4 houses as potential new homes, and we fled the state to hit the beach.
Two days later, I had a minor sunburn, the inspection was conducted, we all got re-oriented to salt air and sand, Katy and I spent more than a few moments panicking about the "mess" we had gotten ourselves into. It wasn't just that we sold the house at a slight loss (I mean the economy is in the toilet and presumably we will make it up on the other end). It was that we had never fully comprehended the costs on the selling end and also now we would be moving once (IF NOT TWICE) in the 4-8 weeds surrounding the birth of our 2nd child.
We rationalized our way out of the mental anguish, made several financial and logistical contingency plans, plotted alternatives to all of those, figured out how we would make it work at every level, and just when excitement started creeping around the corner, the buyer rescinded his offer. RollerccccccccccoooooOOOOOOOSSSSTTTTTERRRRRRRRRRRR!
CLICK.CLICK.CLICK. WHEEEEeeeeeeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEEE
There was a tiny bit of anger or rather frustration. Thank God we were away, b/c if not I would have had at least 3 rooms in my house packed and stacked in boxes and probably a 1/2 full POD in my driveway. Then instead of being disappointed and disjointed, I would have had to go out and find that guy and it would'a been a mess. I don't mind an amusement ride, but that would have pushed me over the edge.
While we were away, we had perfect weather, got some tans, and I got a concussion. Falling out of the back of my sister's minivan was not my most proud moment. We (adults) were taking turns climbing out of the way-back because 3 car seats were taking up the entire second row and obstructing the fire exits. It was very adorable to see all the "Ruggies" side by side, strapped in in their matching car seats, but evidently, it was also life-threatening.
I'll admit that I'm clumsily stumbly on a good day, but I really do get around okay. I have this weak left ankle that rolls without warning or consequence. I can be walking down the street, roll the ankle, recover in some jerky movement that would knock a gymnast's score down an entire point for her landing, but ambulate away without ankle pain or other damage. This happens on average, 4 times a week. I've come to think of it as part of my gait. So, I stepped down, off the bumper of the minivan, onto my unreliable left foot, and the ankle rolled. One minute I was vertical. The next, I was on my back- head bouncing off the asphalt. I heard Lil'cutie fall out of my pocket in a plastic crash.
The sky was so blue. (I see Blue... He looks glorious.)
I heard footsteps. Katy and Web were immediately by my side to confirmed my my mental status (dazed but alert and oriented X3) and help me wiggle out of the middle of the parking lot. I heard a lot of people offering to call 9-1-1, so it must have looked bad. Katy was not pleased about it. She did not appreciate the site of the bounding cranium or the laying motionless for 90 seconds on my back on the pavement... I think she took those 90 seconds to imagine life with 2 boys and no wife, or a wife that spent most of her days drooling. ("THAT'S NOT FUNNY" She's shouting in the background as she reads this.)
A little nausea for a day, a bad headache for 2-3, some jaw pain, and a tender scalp for a week now, but really it could have been worse.
We're taking the house off the market so that we can have this baby without strangers running in and out getting all into our business; and so we can let our house get messy again, and whatnot. The vacation, the ocean, the time away with family (and maybe the bump on the head) have really seemed to help chill me out a little. The pressure is off; which just goes to show you how much "pressure" has kind of been on (It's practically irrational that someone would say, "The pressure is off" as her wife enters the last 6 weeks of her pregnancy.)
It's becoming apparent that we have been running on fumes and have not been paying much attention to the Bean v2.0 except to know that he is kicking and moving and growing in there (And he's makin' his mama's ankles all swollen.)
Now we can focus on the end of the race (Sept 10th due date) and really stop for a few moments to let the summer sweat sting our wide open, attentive eyes; and let the fear of parenting 2 children combined with Katy's extreme state of pregnancy be the undiluted reasons we can't sleep at night. We're practically peeing our pants in anticipation. (Well, one of us is practically peeing her pants for other reasons too.)
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Bubbles
Pete: I wish I liked anything as much as my kids like bubbles.
Ben: That's sad.
Pete: Totally sad. Their smiling faces just point out your inability to enjoy anything.
Now that JB is very much into bubbles, (and I'm dabbling in generalized anxiety) I think of this line from Knocked up often. The scene made me laugh when we saw it 2 months before he was born (though as I recall, we cried a lot during this movie- more a comment on our collective emotional state than on the movie's ability to "move" us, but I digress...) The line about the bubbles has hung with me and I can't calculate how often I've mentally recited it because it's silly but it's also kind'a poignant.
In college, whenever a certain bunch of my good friends and I would see little kids running around, laughing, and having fun, we would mockingly chastise them from an inaudible distance, "Oh, you are riding high on life now, kid... but just wait until life starts riding you." Then we would use the quote on each other sarcastically when one of us fell on hard times.
Thing about both of these lines is they cheaply use the kids as props to try and hint at an unpopular truth. It gets harder and harder to experience joy, pure joy, the more you know and the longer you live.
Bubbles. Go ahead, wherever you are, go buy a plastic bottle of those bubbles and play with them. Help an almost-2 year old blow bubbles. I dare you to find the fun in it. We're talking about soap here, people. But in my experience, it is so annoyingly sticky and messy that from the minute I stick my finger in to bring up the "wand" I cannot wait to sink the tool and re-cap the container. Also, it's not that easy. Unless I'm buying a brand with defunct wands, the physics of bubble making are very precise. If you blow too hard, nothing. If you blow too soft, no bubbles. If you blow at the wrong angle, nada. If the wind is blowing, you-get-the-point...
For his part, JB
1) Wants to do it himself
2) Doesn't seem to be bothered by the bubble-juice spilling every where and/or dripping all over everything and his clothes
3) Can barely create any bubbles (as above, he either blows to hard, too soft, at the wrong angle, etc.)
4) Does not want any assistance...
5) Sometimes feels compelled to taste the bubble soap.
When 1 or 2 tiny bubbles -of his own making- float out of the wand, he shouts, "I DID IT!" perfectly thrilled with himself. If nothing is born of his efforts on the next 5, 10, or 50 attempts, he will say out loud to no one in particular, "Almost." It's adorable at first, but if it happens too many times in a row, I have the irresistible urge to grab the device out of his hands and CREATE SOME MOTHER-LOVING BUBBLES!!!
My kid loves bubbles.
It seems (much to my dismay) that I hate bubbles.
I am alarmed at the degree to which I am annoyed by something that brings him this much joy.
How long before I'm shaking a cane in a neighborhood kid's face screaming, "Don't let your messy ice cream cone drip on my sidewalk!"
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