Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Newsletter: Month 18

Bless me JB for I have sinned... It has been more than 3 months since your last newsletter.



I can't even believe how far off the train I've fallen... You can blame your baby brother or sister for this. Even though s/he isn't even fully developed yet, let alone born, s/he is already affecting the undivided attention that you've come to expect from your mommies.



Let me explain. No time to essplain... Let me sum up: Your mommy got your mama pregnant about 3 months ago. There was a lot of nausea (and some vomiting) at the beginning and you were very often barely in bed before your mama was asleep. The division of labor was upset, and there was a lot to do that didn't involve the (often pointed out to me by non-bloggers) very indulgent practice of posting snippets of our life up on the web.



Ironically (or perhaps predictably) so much has changed developmentally in these 3 months, that I'm not sure how to sum it up or break it down. You have a huge vocabulary now... you will repeat most of what we say, but you have words that you can conjure up with minimal prompting. Sometimes, you just sit and come up with words. It's like you might be flipping through a mental Rolodex and when you shout them out randomly as you consider them. Last week in the car, you kept repeating, "fire" (Fie-her) a word that you had just learned at Nana and papa's house. Then a few minutes later you kept repeating "owl". I couldn't understand what you were saying b/c you pronounced it like "How-ul" and b/c it was so out of context. When I asked you, "what are you saying? I can't understand what word you are saying." You told me, "how-el... hoo,hoo... howel." I looked at your mama and said, "holy (beep)!" Because I was so impressed at how you were able to communicate your point when you wanted to.



A non-inclusive list of words you know: hot, cold, up, down, water, stairs, bib, spoon, more, ball, hammer, truck, bus, car, please, thank you, help, sit, book, beep-beep, yuck, eww, ut-oh, milk, drink, coffee, sip, apple, pasta,waffle, bean, grape, stawberry, blueberry, melon, cereal, cheerios, potty, poop, tissue, snow, light, bright, arm, eye, nose, cheek, teeth, mouth, leg, foot, toe, knee, finger, head, hair, socks, shirt, shoes, hat, zipper, fire, mama, mommy, papa, nana, grandpa, granny, TT, mackenzie, cam cam, Bella, bill, barbara, heather, alisa, amanda (lots of other names from day care), octopus, walrus, fish, puppy, lobster, lion, monkey... When you say a word that ends in "K", you really enunciate the sound. Like in "Milk"... Think of the guttural sound made in Hebrew if someone said, "L'Chaim" and add that "k" noise.



You are singing (sort of) and counting. Singing usually involves you saying "ABC", or "e-i-ei-o", the word "happy" in a cute sing-songy way, then one of your parents or relatives sings the entire rest of the song for your amusement. If there is not a crowd of people staring at you, you will usually give me a mangled, barely recognizable version of the song's epilogue "Now la-no-na-ABCs, ney ney no new see with me." Your cousin, Cam sings the entire Happy Birthday, in tune, not even missing a word... When she's done you sing the solitary word, "Happy" and then let her cycle through it again solo...



Whenever any music is on, we can usually get a "hooray!" and some swaying out of you. You have 2 basic dance moves: the above mentioned rocking side to side, and the staccato demi-plie where you bend slightly at the knees and kind of bounce up and down for a few counts. You truly dance like a rhythm-less white man at this point, and we've thought of getting you a t-shirt that says, "cool kids rock" to mock the over exaggerated simplicity of your dance moves. It is brutally adorable to us. God knows we are mostly responsible for your repertoire, even though we have been trying to teach to you other dance moves (shoulder bounces, raise the roof, dance with your eyebrows, dance with your neck) no doubt, they will only enhance the perception of you as a mini Rick Ashley with top teeth precariously poised to take a chunk out of your lower lip should you roll an ankle if you get too excited while dancing.



You are very mobile and in control of your body, but you are cautious and only a little interested in climbing. You like ladders and step stools, but will mostly stay off on furniture that isn't meant for climbing. You are also a very good listener, and have taken to sitting at the top of the stairs waiting for us when we run down to the basement, for example.



Your grandpa gave you a plastic basketball hoop for Christmas and at first you were just too short to get the ball in slam-dunk style. Now you have grown, or changed your tactic, or both, and able to get the ball and put it through. Balls have emerged as one of your obsessions. There is no rhyme or reason to your obsessions, and for those who would automatically hear me say you are inclined to love any kind of ball and report that it is your natural inclination as a boy to dwell on balls, I would like to offer your other current obsessions: tissues, shoes, drawing utensils, and the letter "o". (To be fair to the gender police, you are also a truck, bus, and car/steering wheel addict.) Of all of these, the letter O is the most confusing to me, but if you go for a letter on the fridge 9/10 it is "o" and you can pick it off of my Uconn sweatshirt too.



The "tissues" game we play non-stop. You've never met a tissue or wipe, or paper towel you didn't love. You love pulling tissues out of their boxes; and you love wiping things up including your face and tables and chairs; and you love throwing tissues away... you love tissues.



Every day when you see me after I've gotten dressed, you look down at my feet and say, "shoes." I think if I came down wearing a prom dress, or a fire fighter's uniform, you would not even notice except when you looked down at my shoes.



Your behavior for the most part is admirable. You have started whining quite a bit. We try to discourage the whining and you are responsive. The scene is usually,
JB: eh, eh, eh (whiny trying to get something noises)
mommy or mama: That's whining, and it is not the best way to get things, you know.
JB: (without the previous whining tone) peeease.



The other times you have a melt down, it is usually some version of "I want to do it myself", or what I can only describe as a "You don't know me..." rebellion. Several times, we know exactly what is going on. For example, you are hungry and need to eat, but think you don't want to eat and refuse to get in the chair... you offer us every version of "NO" that you have learned (saying the word, shaking the head, swinging the arms, stomping the feet). We have found that if we just back off what we are trying to tell you to do, you circle round and do it. It seems to us like a hungry teenager, shouting, "YOU DON'T KNOW ME AT ALL!"



Some of the sweetest times with you recently involve watching you become a little more independent. You like to draw. As much as not leaving knives and dangerous objects around, we have to remember not to leave crayons and pens around b/c you like to draw and have no idea about why you should draw on paper and not furniture or walls.



You also like to go outside



and will sometimes grab my 15lb purse and sling it over your shoulder, head toward the door and say, "bye-bye". This usually means it is time to do some bird watching: "oooh, burd... tweet, tweet." Now that I am writing about this, I realize it is exactly what anti-gay groups are afraid of, that not having a dad will make you think you need a purse to leave the house. Ironically, i never used a purse at all until after you were born and I had gotten used to having a diaper bag to carry everything around. But I promise, we can replace that Lady's Bulsa with a socially acceptable backpack, or brief case and no matter what those social conservatives think, we know that boys who are comfortable carrying purses (either their own, or those belonging to the women in their lives) are probably more desirable and useful to society than the other segment of the male population.



JB, your bedtime ritual still blows our mind. Between 6:45 and 7:30 depending on how tired you seem, we ask, "Do you want a bath?" You almost always do and head toward the stairs. You can now be heard counting as we climb the stairs. Mama or I say, "one, two" you often hit "three" then we give you "four" and frequently you come up with "five"... For the rest, we are on our own, you can not be bothered to utter a number beyond five at this point, but it is clear that you get the concept. Once we are upstairs, you get your bath toys out of the drawer while we draw the tub and you throw them into the water one by one: boat, truck, truck, duck, walrus, fish, sea horse, lobster, octopus. At some point you usually ask to sit on the potty by pointing or saying "potty" or saying, "euwwww." Except for that one dumpage that solitary time, you haven't so much as tinkled in the pot, but you still want to sit there.



After your bath, we dry you, lotion you up (most days), use a q-tip on your ears. We diaper and dress you in your pjs. We read a book or two (these last few months you have started to become very interested in books); cuddle for a few minutes with your blanket and binki (the only time you use your binki these days is at bedtime and occasionally in the car); and then we put you in your crib. Oh first, we do a lap around your room and say goodnight to a bunch of things in there... always in the same order. Goodnight lion, hippo, monkey, elephant... goodnight choo-choo train, goodnight giraffe, g.n. tigger, g.n. dinosaur (x3), g.n. lizard, g.n. planets... then we kiss and hug you and put you down. And that's it. I mean maybe once a month there are a few tears and we give you "one more hug" and then you just put your head down, dig into a comfy position and fall asleep. The entire routine takes 15 to 30 minutes depending on how much lotion we apply, or how long we let you splash in the tub. And pretty much every single night, we marvel at how amazing you are to let us put you to bed without any drama.



You have clearly demonstrated your capacity for tantrums, but at 18 months old, guess what else you can do? You can whistle. I swear. You are like a Casablanca advertisement: You just put your lips together and blow, and music comes out. This never fails to astound any bystanders...



You are a super star.
We love you so much it hurts.



Your mommies

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Idle chit chat

The kid has a lot of words now.

This morning he woke and we took him into our bed trying to steal a few extra winks. He cuddled and tossed and turned and then called out into the darkness:
"Eat... cup... milk... apple."

Really? Tell us what you actually want, JB.

I was guilted into peeling the covers back and putting on clothes. As I carried him down to breakfast, i wondered if he had been storing vocabulary up to use on at a this perverse hour; as an ironic backlash from all those times in the last few months his moms responded to his whining with the half-joking, "use your words."

This evening when I picked him up from day care, he was crying. (His mouth is literally a bloody mess between the new teeth and the cheek that he has bitten with those choppers.) I picked him up, packed him up, dried his eyes and got him out of there. He looked at my coat and said in the clearest pronunciation: "zipper". Then he looked at the ground and pointed:

"Down... walk... rocks" (pointing up) "bird... sky... wow... " Then he finished as we approached our vehicle with, "car... in... binki."

These aren't actually sentences, but amazing progress, and Mad communication skillz

Saturday, March 21, 2009

Weighing in

No pun intended, but I figured it was about time I weighed in on this whole pregnancy thing. Since I'm the one that's preggers.

It started with a few frustrating rounds of at-home intra-uterine tries (did I mention that this post won't be for the squeamish?). And by a few, I mean 3. I am fully aware that I should just shut my pie-hole about only having 3 frustrating times and 1 successful time. The problem was that I, predictably, got in my head about the whole thing. I tested before it was time. Got frustrated with the negatives. Tried to find pink lines where there clearly were none. Went so far as to make the infertility appointment.

Then came the fourth try. I woke up our good in friend in a west-coast crunchy city at around 5am her time on a sunday morning in a panic: The million dollar fancy fertility monitor you made me buy went positive today unexpectedly! How many vials of the swim team should I try? 2? Ok. But when? This conversation was to be legendary, but I'm sure LSG was just glad to get off the phone and go back to sleep. T and I had debated whether or not to go for two vials this time, weighing in the fact that our donor (of which we had 4 vials left) had none left in the bank. Ultimately, we decided that having to change donors if we happened to run out was not the end of the world, and it was worth a try.

So we packed up the existing kid, raced to the storage facility and convinced the very nice lab tech to give us two vials out of deep freeze with 2 minutes notice. I'll skip the next 24 hours since it wouldn't even be appropriate for those who aren't already squeamish.

We went to Ohio after Christmas to visit my family. I brought all the supplies: pregnancy tests, the fertility monitor, and monitor sticks. And one night I had a moment of complete clarity. I woke up around 2am and in total darkness with my wife and baby quietly sleeping in the room thought, "We don't need anymore kids! One is perfect! We can just stop trying!". I should have known.

Tracy let me sleep in the following morning and before I went upstairs to see the fam, I decided it was the day. So I pulled out a stick, peed on it, and then ran away from it. The last three times I had stood there and stared at it. I couldn't bear to watch it come up negative again. So I organized (my default activity when I'm anxious).

And there it was. 2 pink lines. Uh oh. So much for clarity.

I walked up the stairs to where T was and said sternly, "I need to speak with you. Right now." Fully convinced that she had done something terribly wrong, she followed me. I showed her the stick, we rejoiced, and then looked at each other. "Damn that LSG." Always right, that one.

Anyway, that's a long drawn out version of how this adventure started. I spent 2 weeks feeling totally normal. Then the puking started. Again, details not necessary, but I spent a good portion of each evening either praying it wouldn't happen, or just getting it over with. T was unfortunately experiencing a higher than usual stress level at work, JB was getting teeth and discovering the word "no", and I was completely useless. Suffice it to say I would not have gotten through that first part without my amazing wife, very helpful in-laws, phone support from my parents, and co-workers who made sure work was as easy as possible during that time.

Now that the second trimester is here things are much better. My appetite is back full force and it feels fantastic. I've finally started putting on some pounds after losing a few in the beginning. I have a for-sure belly bump (not the pretend one I was "making up" the last couple of weeks). My clothes don't fit. My boobs are a whole new country. And while I have loved bread and butter pickles my whole life, they taste AMAZING right now. Which also means that my olfactory nerve is working overtime and I can smell a dirty JB diaper from a mile away.

The things we know: I'm due 9/10/09. I measure big enough for ONE BABY. I have ONE extra heartbeat in my abdomen. I will have an ultrasound on tax day that will tell us the gender (yes, we're finding out) as well as whether the baby has all its parts in all the right places. I think it's a boy. Or a girl. Everyone at work and all of my parents think it's a girl. I should be able to start feeling the baby move in the next month or so. I plan to eat everything in sight in celebration.

Stay tuned for updates over the next 25 weeks!

Thursday, March 19, 2009

more chai please!

Somehow in the midst of getting another enormous tooth (this one made him bleed while eating) we managed to convince JB to do some of his tricks...

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Capt Sully saves the day

This is awesome.

Katy just made me watch it. She's seen it a few times already.



After we watch it together (for the first time) i say, "That was awesome."
I look at her and she is crying.

Me: What... um... why are you... what's going... How's that now?
Her: It just makes me cry.
Me: (blank stare)
Her: When things are that organized... and people do their jobs so well... and disaster is averted... it just really makes me cry.
Me: (careful to control facial muscles) Yup.

No hormones here.

hattip: dl004d

2nd trimester

Well, we are into the 2nd trimester (duh, you coulda guessed that from the subject)...

Also, yesterday, JB had his follow up hearing test. Tubes are in place, patent, and ears are fluid free... Hearing is normal!

Woo Hoo. Surgical success.

And woo hoo too for baby number two... keep growing little bean!

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Life at 13 weeks 6 days

Life is good.
Work is nuts.
We turned the clocks an hour forward this week.
(Is that DST? or are we out of DST? I'm not sure how it works)
Katy is still nauseous. (getting better we think)
The baby is the size of a lemon.
JB is throwing a few fits here and there.
We are tired.
The blog is suffering.
I haven't written a newsletter in 2.5 months.

Monday, I witnessed our son's very first full-blown tantrum. It was a little like a Calvin and Hobbes cartoon and included him meandering through several rooms crying, screeching, sobbing, sweating, head-banging, kicking, throwing himself on the floor, putting his head in his hands and crying on the closed toilet seat, banging his head on the wall, spinning and rolling around in little break-dancing moves... It ended in child's pose with a head butt or two thrown in for good measure before he finally calmed down enough for maternal intervention.

It was dramatic, and irritating in the moment, but still (I'm not going to lie) cute. JB is a sweetie 90% of the time. The fact that he is starting to have opinions is "interesting," but it is new enough that it is still a source of pride to me.

He struggles and suffers through the eye drops every morning and at night; crying and fighting with all of his limbs flailing and no amount of calm words or pleading on our part can get him to understand what we are doing. He seals his eyelids closed against the antimicrobial medication, as if we were pouring liquid mercury into them. Katy found a way to make us feel better about torturing him: When the drops are in at the end of all the fussing, we say, "Say 'thank you'." And through the sniffles, he loyally gives us a slightly hesitant "tth-hank-cue."

And we quiver in silent laughter that he's so pliable.

Here are some pics from a birthday party this weekend
(right before the pink eye attacked.)

Oh, a car... Excellent! I think I'll play "in and out of the car" for 25 minutes!


"beep beep"



"HEY BUDDY, GET OUT OF THE WAY OF MY CAR!!!"


"Vrrrrrummmmmm...."

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Chopper has pink eye

It started with a tiny glob of curd in the proximal corner of his right eye.
Ten minutes later, there was another.
One hour later, I could have practically served cheesy grits out of his eye socket.

Nasty.

We paged the doc on call at about 6pm and had the first round of drops in by bedtime.

Our motto was: "We will not be taken down by conjunctivitis - he'll be 36 hours on antibiotics and ready to gobble up the other kids fingers at day care by Monday morning - so help me God!"

Friday, March 06, 2009

Chopper

So all the kids at day care are quaking in their boots 'cause jb has started biting.
He's bitten 2 girls and 2 mommies in 2 days.

We swiftly put him into time out each time and then watch his lower lip protrude and quiver tremendously prior to the heart-wrenching tears he produces. These tears are either true regret for mis-deeds, or unadulterated anger at having been punished. When we reprimand him, he has difficulty making eye-contact and he looks so remorseful that it is hard to stick to our guns.

I think we would not be such hard-asses, but we definitely don't want to have that kid at day care that everyone else's parents call "Chopper".

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Fat Tuesday

Oh, that's right... it's the day before lent.

But this year, it is also the day we got to hear the baby's heartbeat for the first time. It's the day we let ourselves exhale and finally start to get ex-sigh-ted about the fact that katy is going to start to get FAAAAAAAHAT. She got my baby growing inside of her!

We tried 4 times and found out 5 days after Christmas. Everyone that knows us in "real life" has known about it for a while now... Some people in Ohio knew when the p-stick was a few minutes ripe, but we waited for the little "whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh" we got to hear at the prenatal appointment today to put it out there on our facebook accounts and up here on the GSO.

There will be a lot more to follow, but for now, there are posts I wrote but didn't publish until now. Follow the label "new baby" to catch up.

We're going to bed now. It's been a happy day, but a long one... it's time to get some shut eye!

Sunday, February 22, 2009

The crawl

There is so much going on that the desire to blog consumes me and the actualization of that desire is delusional.

Work is a clusterfuck horror-show right now. We've been experiencing chaotic institutional change and threats that are imagined, perceived, and alarmingly real. Obviously, the details are too ripe to post here, but take my word for it: SNAFU of the highest order. "Fight-flight" and the power-charge you get from an emergent challenge take you far for about 5 weeks. I've been working all day, coming home and powering up the laptop until well after bedtime.

At the beginning, I was even in good spirits about it - it's been like a slow code and I do miss the old days of hanging blood, cracking ribs, and pushing epinephrine. But now, my brain is turning to mush and my psyche is pretty badly dinged up. I keep my wits about me, literally. Keeping my team laughing is probably my central purpose at this point, but every day brings another detail that is essentially no laughing matter. If you had told me a few months ago what would be going on right now, I would have laughed, slapped your ass, and told you to shove off. Needless to say, I have needed to put a lot more time and energy into work. But more than hours, the shit there is practically always on my mind. It's a veil over my head and I'm distracted by it all the time. Entire 8 or 10 hour work days go by without me having the mental where-with-all to call home. (Not the literal, physical "home" we live in [no one is there during the work day], but the day care or the cell phone that katy carries around when she takes my "home/heart" out into the world.)

Katy is holding down the fort of sanity right now. Trouble is, she is physically compromised due to the fig-sized fetus that we planted inside of her several weeks ago. We have been trying to keep it a little mum, but now that Mackenzie knows about it, the cat is pretty much out of the bag. Always in the form of a question, she knows all and tells the world as much:

Mac 7 weeks ago: "Why are you toasting? Why are you saying congratulations to katy? Why? what's going on?"
Mac 4 weeks ago: "Where is Katy? Why is katy home? Why is katy sleeping? Why does Katy's belly hurt her?"
Mac 1 week ago: "You have a baby in there?" "You're having a baby?" "The baby makes you sick?" "You are having a baby grow in your belly?" "Katy has a baby?" "What's the baby's name?"

We will hopefully hear the baby's heartbeat on Tuesday. And then we will welcome the unadulterated sigh of celebratory planning.

As eluded to above, Katy has been feeling craptastic. Puking, dry heaves, queasy and everything like that. She is falling asleep on the couch at about 7 or 8pm daily. Then she wakes up, and heads to bed between 9 and 10pm beckoning me to accompany her.

Aside from being puky, she is physically warm- a veritable incubator. When i crawl into bed next to her, the temperature is shocking. It is so unusual for her to be throwing this much heat, that I sometimes imagine a hatted, southpaw fetus, spitting fluid and getting ready for the big show.

Today, after a wicked work week capped off by a very fun but kind of crazed-paced Saturday, it rained. It rained the kind of cold rain that should be snow. The kind of cold rain you expect in February. Rain that is 2 or 3 degrees too warm to ice over busy highways. Two years ago, rain like that on a Sunday would have put my wife and me under covers watching movies in bed all day.

Today we had the 1.5 year old to entertain. We putzed and played and grew a tiny bit bored and at some point threw our swimsuits on under our sweats and headed out to the pool. That's right, we belong to a pool. I know what you're thinking, "but we've never heard you speak of 'the pool' before???" When I was pregnant with JB (and even before that) we swam quite a bit- we went to the pool a few times a week to swim laps. And then the pregnancy progressed, and then the c-section, and then all the breastfeeding, and then the baby was too little, and then katy went back to work, and then I went back to work, and then all the ear infections, and don't forget about the laziness... you get the picture.

For some people this is a no brainer - "Quit the pool!!! JUST STOP SENDING YOUR 40 BUCKS EVERY MONTH!!!" But for us this gets all wrapped up in why we're not more active, and not wanting to give up on fitness and being "ready" to work out if the opportunity presents itself. It's hard to stop spending money on the gamble that you might wake up one day and want to suddenly be a better, healthier person.

So we take JB for the first time to the pool that there is no way for him to know he is a member of. It's not the first time he's been in water or a pool, but there is a unique feature of our pool. The kiddie-pool shallow part is a ramp. You walk into it like you are walking into the ocean. Allow me to explain with a visual image that is not really drawn to scale:


The Dark Blue is the regular, larger part of one of the pools (it is longer and wider than it appears here). That pool is 4 to 7 feet deep and the red lines indicate swim lanes. The Yellow is the beginning of the ramp and has water only barely covering your toes. The Green part is 5-7 feet of water that is less than a foot deep, and the Aqua area gradually goes to 2-ish feet as you round the corner and head into the bigger pool. The point of all of this is that JB gets to walk into and around in water that is waist and chest high and doesn't have to be carried all around to explore pool/swimming options.

He started hesitant, but quickly grew to enjoy himself. At first, he wouldn't walk into the water but wanted to be carried. After he realized that he could safely navigate the shallow water, he wanted to explore. Several times he walked right into water that was higher than his mouth or fell completely into water that was a foot deep. We were right there to buoy him up and he came out of the drink every time coughing and sputtering a little, but also laughing.

Watching him in this environment might have been my favorite hour of parenting so far. It was relaxing and simplistic; exciting and mellow. It doesn't hurt that I like the water so much myself. Just being in shallow water with my wife and son made me so happy. For a split second, I wished we had the camera to take photos or video, but I quickly tossed that notion aside. "Be.here.now." I told myself. There was no way to really document these feelings anyway.

JB was beside himself with what can only be described as excited joy. When he ventured out a little bit alone with me, I would point out katy to him. From a distance, he would flail about ecstatic when he caught a glimpse of her. When she had him and his eyes re-located me, he would excitedly slap his chest like a gorilla. But mostly we were all three together. We passed him back and forth, log-tossed him a little. Put him on a kick-board, let him hang on to our floating toes... He put his face in the water, tried to imitate me blowing bubbles, he got on his belly to "swim", he got on his back and "kicked", he held onto my neck and rode on my back as I took him into the bigger pool. By the end, he was walking in an out pretty independently. Then, he was jumping from a seated position and then standing position into my arms off the side of the pool. I couldn't have been prouder if he suddenly counted to 100. It was nothing but fun. And I guess if we needed to quantify it, totally worth the year and 1/2 of membership dues that we obligingly paid despite not using the facilities.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Official onset of the supposed "terrrible twos"

I came home late last night.

Katy was beside herself: "He's been awful."
He cried and screamed through dinner.
Threw his food.
Pushed at furniture.
Threw toys.
When she reprimanded him at one point, he reached up and grabbed a fist full of food and smeared it on her pants as a way to reprimand her.
He kicked, stormed, ran away, and then I came home.
And we got him to bed ASAP

This morning, he decided he didn't want to be on the changing table.
Yes, God forbid we put these soft, clean clothes on you...
He grabbed my hand and while looking me in the eye, sunk his teeth into the fleshy part of my hand.

As Katy and I had discussed strategy last night, I put him into his first ever time out. Naked (wrapped in the towel), he sat in the corner for 60 seconds.
Crying ensued.
I ignored him except to say,
"You bit mommy and you're in time out."
When Katy got out of the shower, she heard about the biting and said, "We don't bite." He got a devastated look on his face, and we both tried hard not to comfort him.
"Yes, Mama," I said, "He had to go into time out."

When the minute was over, he was remarkably calm... on the changing table.

I think we have a spirited, free thinker on our hands, who might spend the next 20 years "testing" boundaries. But I consider this early attempt at discipline a smashing success.

I almost feel bad. The bite didn't really even hurt. It was the staring contest he initiated during the bite that made me feel like I needed to take action.

Monday, February 09, 2009

Seems like he can hear

JB's ability and willingness to repeat things we say is exploding. Everyday there are new sounds and it is very awesome.

New words never spoken before today:
"breakfast"
"excuse me"

Blow it out your swimmer's ear


You may remember, earlier in the year when I waxed poetic about Michael Phelps and his overpowering choppers? Well, at the time, I was a little hard on the guy. I guess I felt he was just a little too beloved. I mean, it was all "Michael Phelps" this and "Michael Phelps" that. People were going nuts. I never understand what it is that makes all kinds of folks want to gather up all their dreams and hopes and lay them like an laurel wreath on the head of a 24 year old freak of nature. But now, the walls come crashing down and people are shocked! SHOCKED, I say!!! Shocked that a 24 year old might take a hit off a bong.

"How dare he?"
"How could he?"
"What about the little children? "
"I'm just so disappointed in him!"

What is wrong with people?!? Are they for real?

Needless to say, public opinion turning against MP is all I needed to hop off the fence and become a true supporter and fan.



This is exactly what I wanted to say about the whole overblown, Michael Phelps-smoking-a-bong thing... especially the end of the video... SNL nails it.

Cancer in the court



I know this sounds a little draumatic, but I'm not kidding around...

If this news had come out before the election, I think I would have have had a freakin' stroke.

I mean, she hasn't exactly looked that virile for a while, but this chick -ahem, excuse me- associate justice, is the only waif standing between a nun chuck wielding John Roberts and the delicate crystal case holding my gay civil rights.

Stand back, pancreatic cancer... RBG will not go down without a fight! Stay strong, madam justice.