Year 1, Day 120

Why does the action of putting on his coat lead to a major meltdown? Does he equate it to the fact that we are going in the car AGAIN, and that he'd have to endure some lengthy ride? Is he just hot and hates bulky jackets like his mother? Does he not want to stop playing and has no idea when he'll be back to finish? I suppose it's all of the above, but the new challenge of the century has become putting on socks, shoes, and a jacket . . . and mittens, a hat, and snowsuit, etc. I DESPISE Winter. I am about to move to Florida tomorrow. I loved Summer and Spring when coats were a distant memory and we could walk right out the door with no struggle.

I've tried the hard ass version of "this is not negotiable. You need a coat, and stop whining." I've tried the pleading version "PlEEASSEE help mommy put this coat on you." I've tried the game version, as I sing and dance and flap my arms - all the while, reciting Old MacDonald. None of these work. I've even tried letting him put on the darn jacket himself. I will hold steadfast and get through this struggle. Amen.

Year 1, Day 119

It's been awhile since I had to take a shower, and "get ready," while Jackson was awake and running around. I always wake up early to avoid that extra stress, but today Jack and I slept in . . . until 7:30. At which point, we played, ate breakfast, and then I showered. I mean, attempted to shower . . .

I thought I could leave him quarantined in the living room with safe toys and no access to any other room. I kept the bathroom open a crack so I could hear him if he cried, I put on his "Baby Animal" DVD, and slipped off into a peaceful, quick shower. Keep in mind, the bathroom is 2 steps from the living room. He was fully engrossed and didn't seem like a tornando would even distract him.

Eight seconds later, he noticed I was missing. Jackson came ripping into the bathroom, and whipped open the shower curtain. From that moment on, he knew he had free reign, so he proceeded to open the bottom drawers and fling out shampoo, a curling iron, hair dryer, gel, and hairspray on the floor. Next, feminine products went flying out of the box and he threw handfuls into the shower. He ran around the bathroom with toilet paper streaming over his shoulder, as if he had conquered a new land. He was in heaven - free of supervision. Free of "NO" and re-direction. I ended my shower quickly, and made a note to self: the crib is the best place for an unsupervised child.

Year 1, Day 118

Jackson is definitely a pure Bostonian. Besides his pronunciation of the word CAR as CAHHHHH, he has now found a favorite toy with a special little feature that fits right into Boston living. Jack is obsessed with a car toy that his cousin gave him for Christmas. It is a steering wheel and dashboard that comes to life when you turn the ignition. And true to Boston form, when you beep the horn it shouts "HEY - Get OUTTA the way!!" Jackson just keeps pressing that horn over and over. He probably thinks: wow - that sounds just like daddy! Just kidding of course. Actually, in Boston, you are lucky to get a horn at all - that would be a warning. Boston drivers give no warning. They just run you down.

Anyway, aside from Jack acquiring street skills today, he also learned the most precious thing I've seen to date. His kissed his rocking horse goodnight. But not even just a quick kiss on the saddle. He bent in front of the horse and pecked his nose with a little kiss. It melted my heart a bit. It's so nice to have him back today and give him a few days of R&R before we hit the road again . . .

I wonder if Aunt Rach and Uncle Chris know that Jackson will be visiting for New Years? We never have plans for New Years and usually fall asleep before 9pm, but this year . . . this year we are on our way to Vermont!! See you in a few days!!

Year 1, Day 117

I miss the little monkey tonight. Michael and I had our anniversary weekend (postponed from October) and Grammie and Nana kept Jackson for 2 nights. We went to the Pats game today and tried to remember what it was like to be married and have fun together, aside from the fun we have with Jackson. We've been doing a pretty crappy job of that as of late.

There was a time, when I was canoeing with my dad back in high school. He was talking about my mother and how in love they were with each other - even after raising 2 children, and being married for nearly 20 years. They loved each other in a way that I couldn't grasp at the time. In a parallel existence, I was head over heels in love with Mike and had the butterflies and romance glasses on. I remembered saying to my dad - "well, if you guys are so in love, then why don't I ever see you and mom sit together on the couch at night? Do you hold hands and gaze longingly into each other's eyes??" I couldn't understand the love that he was speaking of, if it didn't include the things I was experiencing at that moment with my boyfriend. I was SURELY in love. I wanted to be with Mike every moment I could, and wouldn't let his hand go. I wanted to kiss him until my lips disappeared. I couldn't get enough of that feeling . . . that drunk love feeling. I swore that I would do every thing in my power to keep that.

Here I am, many years later with Mike and a baby, and I understand fully what my father spoke of on that day on the river. No relationship can withstand that level of passion, and it is ignorant bliss to believe that it doesn't morph into another love. It does. I love him in a completely different way. A more complicated way that is difficult to define, but deeper and more substantial.

Isn't it funny how we think we know everything in middle and highschool? Dad couldn't have been more right. Even mom was right when she said "Just you wait, you'll be wearing these bell bottoms someday! Don't make fun!" I swore on a million Tiffany records that I would NEVER be caught DEAD wearing a flared jean, much less bell bottoms, or worse - dark jeans like my mother's Jordache with the yellow stitching... yup. I've broken all those promises. The longer you've been on this earth, you realize that it all comes full circle.

Year 1, Day 116

MAMA!! I can officially say that Jackson utters the word MAMA and has fully identified me as someone pretty important. He even cuddled my arm and rubbed his little face up against me at lunch today, as if he was a new kitty scent marking his mother. What a special Christmas gift. He transitioned from BABA to MAMA with ease today. Jackson even echoed "MAMA??" in a dark room, when I left the house for a bit and he was with Nana. It was worth the wait. It sounds beautiful.

The little munchkin spent today with his extended family, celebrating his great Aunt Lois' birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Jackson and his cousin Nalla were so great through dinner. Granted, I had every trick in the book to occupy Jack - from ladybug books, to bananas, to cheese puffy things, to etch a sketches. He was entertained in his high chair. I couldn't help but notice though, with a slight tinge of envy, when I peered over at his cousin Nalla. Virtually the same age, she sat on her mom's lap, struggle free and fully engrossed at a task for a VERY long period of time. That doesn't really happen with the monkey. Jack is constantly on the go, and if he is confined by a seat belt, or a highchair, he will figure out a way to keep his mind going at the pace that his feet WOULD be going. But we've become accustom to the boundless energy, so now life just happens a lot quicker . . . with a lot less planning and a 5K built right into the day. At this rate, I should be marathon ready by Spring.

Year 1, Day 115

There were some extra special gifts under the tree this year. Some of Jackson's favorites were a white Macy's box, a bunch of tissue paper that he used to blow snot rockets into, and a huge cardboard box that housed a really great toy which he may enjoy later. This was the year of wrapping, bows, and boxes for Jackson. Though he was very interested in the gifts and seemed intrigued for the most part, he was easily distracted by the opening of the packages. The tissue paper crinkle, the ability to hide and sit in boxes, and the versatility of crumpled paper is far too fascinating. All this, perfectly age appropriate behavior, I might add, and quite hysterical to watch in action.

Held dearest to his heart this year were the following items: the rocking horse, toy workbench, the ball popper machine, and all the stylish clothes that will keep keep him on the "Number 1 best dressed in daycare" list until Spring. He also enjoyed a toy dog on a leash and many books. Aside from all the great gifts, just being together and sharing dinner and laughter over the monkey meant so much during this time. Tomorrow, he will also see extended family and share a very special day together. Many thanks to everyone who made Jackson's second Christmas so special.
Love to you all . . .

Year 1, Day 114

Dear Jackson,

Tonight, you are sleeping so soundly and peaceful. I am on my way to your town in a few hours. It's been quite a long trip from the North Pole. Rudolph is a bit under the weather this evening, so I have had to make some extra pit stops that I wasn't expecting. Too much eggnog I suppose? Speaking of food and drink, I am very hungry . . . I am hoping you left me some chocolate milk and Italian cookies left over from your feast tonight.

You have been an awfully good boy this year, and I have some wonderful surprises for you tomorrow when you wake. I know you don't remember me from last year, but I see you every day and watch over you. I make sure you eat your dinner, sleep well, and that you play fair with your friends at school. Your parents couldn't have dreamed of a more wonderful little boy. They are so happy, and they love you so much.

Good night little monkey. If you hear me clinking on the roof tonight, just turn over and go back to bed - it's just the reindeer feet as we get ready for take off. Sweet dreams. Merry Christmas.

Love,
Santa

Year 1, Day 113

In my Nyquil haze, body aching, head pounding, and throat on fire, I am going to bed. Yet again, a 7:30 bedtime. I thought I had gotten over the illness I had for a day last week, but now my body realized that I have a vacation until January 4th. It is showing no mercy. It is mad at me for shopping last night. I relent - sleep is in order, as wrapping, getting packed, ironing, and cleaning up are left to the wayside. Good night.

Year 1, Day 112

Today is a sign on and sign off blog, because it's a bit over 48 hours until Christmas morning, and I have to go shopping. It is 9:00 at night. No, I am not done and I had VERY limited people to buy for. No excuse.

On a side note, Jackson did one amazing thing that changes our lives forever!! When we pulled up to the condo today, I said "Are you ready to go see Miles?" Jackson responded, clear as day, with a giant "YAH." Then, he proceeded to YAH and YES me all night when I asked him things.

Do you want dinner? "Yah". Are you going to eat what I cook? "Yah". Do you want a bath now? "Yes". Do you love your mama forever? "Yah"

I love the affirmative. Tomorrow he will probably learn "NO" and my life will become exponentially more difficult. But tonight is a magical moment in parenthood. Tonight I live in YES bliss.

Year 1, Day 111

There is time, and then there is "mother time". Jackson is nearly 16 months old and I still haven't adjusted to "mother time". Mother time is an odd phenomenon. When you calculate how long a task will take you, for instance, you have to add at least 15 minutes on either end for flex room, and you also have to expect that you will forget something or leave something undone - not the easiest for a task oriented check list person.

Here's an example. I drove home tonight, from work, with Jackson in the car. Mike had to work late, and it was the only night that we could get our storage unit before Christmas break. Though not the ideal situation, because I have a little one in tow, but I had no other choice. I had to reach the storage unit by 5:40 latest to sign paperwork and be issued the unit. I left work at 3:55. Plenty of time.

At 5:38, I was sweating it out in MALL traffic, as Jackson and I sang Etsy Weensy Spider for the 100th time and cried a bit. Our commute had taken from 4:30 to 5:38, and we were stuck in gridlock traffic though I could see EZ Storage, flashing it's EZ light in my vision, taunting me. It was not EASY storage. It was hell on earth to reach EZ storage during Christmas mall traffic. I was ready to abort mission, because I knew Jackson would not handle "paperwork" time after he'd been in the car seat for nearly two hours . . . and we were late - it was now 5:45.

But, I had driven all this way and endured all this nightmare traffic, avoiding accidents and all along the way. Surely, paperwork for a storage unit would only take 5 minutes.

Apparently, renting a storage unit is more difficult than renting an apartment.

35 Minutes later, I peeled Jackson off the floor as he rolled around in protest. The person helping us had a computer error, and it froze the VERY second after he completed ALL the information - Emergency contact, next of kin, phone, alternate phone, and the RULES...ohhhh the rules. There are SO many rules. I had to leave.

With a couple initials, I did get the unit. And, tomorrow I will call him over the phone to actually understand the information he was telling me. But, in the meantime, I will make this a lesson to myself. Do not forget about "mommy time." In that time zone, normal tasks which could be considered rather mundane, actually turn into lengthy outings of unbelievable proportions. Why can't sleep be on mommy time?

Year 1, Day 110

One of the most exciting things about this age in Jackson's life, is seeing how his personality has begun to form. He is very cautious with new experiences, but truly keeps an open mind. When we took him out in the snow, dragging him around in his wooden sled, he was completely emotionless - not a smile, not a peep out of him. He did not hate it. He was not crying. He sat, completely still, and took it all in.

I have found that he does this when he is exposed to something completely out of the ordinary. For instance, going on a swing in the park for the first time, seeing the ocean and feeling sand for the first time, and witnessing everything out of the ordinary that is related to Christmas and winter (tree in the house, snow blanketing everything). He stares off in space without cracking a smile or displaying an ounce of judgment. After being re-introduced to the same thing, he is usually good to go and fully interested in exploring. He has a cautious nature and a desire to take it all in before making a decision on whether he likes it or not.

I could probably use a little more of that in my life. I tend to make judgment on past experiences and pre-judge what events or situations may be like. I'm not as open to new experiences without being fully prepared. I don't like surprises. I want to know what is next and be able to picture it fully. I think I should take a page out of Jackson's book and be a bit more open minded. Sure, maybe I will hate something new, or some new experience I find myself in, but I need to give it a chance. He's always teaching me something.

Year 1, Day 109

Jackson said "Hi Dada!!" today. But, I am still "BABA." His words now include tree, bubbles, cat, hi guys, bye, and juice. I think I am officially disheartened. I didn't care much when Jackson just knew the word "Daddy," but now he is using qualifiers, making full sentences with all kind of versions of daddy. Next, he may say "Hey Father, let's go play in the snow." Then, he will look at me and say "BYE BABA."

Maybe he just has a stuffy nose all the time, and he really IS saying "MAMA".

Maybe I am as comforting as his nightly bottle, which he interchanges with BABA - so we've become one . . .

Or maybe, I am still unknown to him as his mother, and I've been a crappy, nameless role model for him. Maybe he thinks I am some old lady that stops him from doing fun things, and BABA is short for bastard.

Or maybe, the M sound is difficult to make? I'll hold out for a bit longer, but if he starts saying Mogadishu, Massachusetts, or even Molly (Nana's dog) before MAMA I think I might cry.

Year 1, Day 108

I sure wanted to cry on my way home from my 2 hour commute this evening, so I'm not to sure how Jackson held it together. He probably sensed that I was ready to drive off a bridge, and spared me. I don't know why the commute was so much longer, other than the fact that maybe people are taking next week off work and heading out of town? Or maybe, people were out shopping tonight? Oh yah! That craziness called Christmas shopping? Perhaps I will start that tomorrow evening.

This year, I wish we celebrated Hannukah. It would have given me the kick in the pants to buy eight presents, have them all wrapped and ready on specific nights, and that would be it. Granted, we aren't doing much gift exchanging this year, but you still feel that pressure for the few you are buying, because there is a part of Christmas that feels SO good when you find someone that perfect gift, and when you give it.

Jackson made us some special gifts at daycare. He painted a hand print wreath and framed it, and he also made a special picture holder for us. I remember the gifts I would make my dad before he went off for a night shift, and how incredibly special he made me feel for giving him the pieces of paper with random marks of color or cut outs that were to "keep him safe and wish him luck." Homemade gifts from your little one are the absolute best, because they are truly from the heart.

Year 1, Day 107

Jackson had his 15 month appointment today! He is in good health, seems to be on track developmentally, and there is no cause for concern. His height is in the 96 percentile, which now makes sense why he seems to "fit" so perfectly in his new toddler room. He's just a little man walking around there, playing and talking. All the while, he's trying to move up in the pecking order.

Isn't it funny how "transitions" are really just for the parents? Jackson didn't need to go to toddlers slowly and experience each part of the day over 4 weeks. By day three, he was set to go - like a band aid, just rip it off quickly and don't turn back. I, on the other hand, needed those days to mourn the infant stage and embrace toddlerhood. But, we have the hang of it now, and we see how happy he is with the challenges of the new toys, the children that he interacts with, the speech her hears, and the crazy things he observes and copies each day.

This evening, he walked over to my tissues, pulled one out, held it to his nose and blew into it. What??! Sometimes his actions are completely astounding to me. Note to self: He is watching EVERY move I make. That time I snuck a swig from the OJ carton, YUP - he saw me. When he head butted me in the lip by accident, and I said "Sh*t" in error as an automatic response to pain, he tried to copy that word. There's really no more living like a slob, being impatient, being rude, having loose lips, or just living like no one is watching you. You are never alone when you have a 15 month old, and he is storing away every little thing he sees and hears. Being a good role model seems easier than it sounds. You don't know how mean, impatient, rude, and ugly you are on an everyday basis, until you realize that someone is watching you to learn how to live in this world.

Year 1, Day 106

Today was a breakthrough in the toddler room! For one, Jackson sat for the entire circle time, and he even jumped up to give his teacher a "hand shake" when his name was called in the "good morning song." It is a routine the toddlers have when their name is called in the song, but it's still fascinating how quickly he joined in and caught on, if I do say so myself! When I watched him a few minutes before pick up today, he blended right in the class without skipping a beat. I sat down to say hello, and all the little ones came running up, hugging, pointing, and handing me toys. "Jack's mama. Jack-son's mama!" It made me want to teach preschool again.

All the little ones came fleeing over, but my Jack. He was enthralled in a ball game that has some kind of "pop" action, and he was NOT going to leave it. He glanced over, saw me, and gave me a cool wink as if to say "yah Ma, I see you, but I'm busy" and he continued to play un-phased by my presence and my growing popularity with his friends. Finally, when he decided there was too much hugging from Stella, and he bounded over for a hug. It was time for "BABA" to take him home. "Bye!!" he shouted. "Buh BYE!"

I was just mentioning to Mike this morning, how easy and fun the morning routine has become. I look forward to it. I feel like there is a perfect balance between bonding time, cuddle time, and busy time. It feels so great when you finally have something down. But not so fast! If I learned anything so far, it is the following: as soon as you feel confident that a stage is "mastered" it usually means that chaos will soon rear it's ugly head and eventually settle again with regards to something new. I'll enjoy this feeling of balance, confidence, and happiness with the routine, but will cautiously stand by as to not be blindsided by the next upheaval. It's actually become quite comical. When you think you have it down, the new stage begins. And that, my friend, is raising a child.

Year 1, Day 105

Dear Jackson,

There will be a year, very soon in your young life, when you anticipate Christmas and the magic of the season. It is not this year. Yes, I have finally come to grips with that, and I will stop trying to live vicariously through you.

My Promise to you: no more dragging through the tree farm in zero degree weather with chain saws loud enough to make your ears bleed. No more bundling you up and running you out into the first snow with great excitement, and then accidentally losing your grip as you fall face first into a pile of snow and ice. No more forcing you to sit on Santa's lap - he's super scary with his HOHOHOs and big white beard. Honestly, even I am creeped out by him sometimes myself. No more spending hours fining the perfect gift, when all you want is the wrapping paper roll. I promise to you - I will stop making this Christmas about me, and look at you . . .

You are 15 months old. Christmas to you, means spending moments examining snowflakes that fall from the sky. Letting you crumple loads of wrapping paper and make piles of tissue paper everywhere. Reading about the baby in the manger, and seeing his all the animals. Encouraging you to touch the tree and pull at the lights within reason. And, letting you scream your face off when Santa comes near you, when people sing carols, and when you just need a break from all this barrage of holiday spirit and the craziness. We all need a break. Ohhhh what you learn from your child!

Year 1, Day 104

It was bound to happen. 104 days of health and now I am as sick as a dog. Maybe it's just allergies from the all dust I conjured up during the clean? I'm still in denial. I went to work today. Call it the martyr syndrome, but mother's really can't get sick. Plus, no one cares.
This evening is a 7:00 bedtime for me.
Goodnight

Year 1, Day 103

Jackson is obsessed with a commercial. Whenever the Kindle song "Fly Me Away" comes on the television, he is glued with mouth open and complete focus, as if his life hung in the balance. At first I thought he was intrigued by the girl in the commercial, because she changes herself into a million different roles and costumes in a whimsical way. But, he is really just obsessed with the song, as I found out by playing it on the computer - over and over, as he signaled for more. I swear, he could have listened to it 100 times without tiring.

That's what I love about this age. I think the greatest part of him being 15 months, is that you start to see what he prefers, dislikes, and can't live without. To think that this little guy has pretty strong opinions at such a young age is fascinating. Here's a for instance: all Jackson wanted out of the crayon box was the blue crayon. He truly didn't care for any other color. He would have given his "patsy" for the blue one, and he wasn't backing down until that crayon was in his little mitt.

Here are some preferences

*LOVES sourcream and taquitos. He was literally licking the sour cream off his fingers, and double dipping his taquitos. Note to self: he does not enjoy salsa.

*LOVES shoving oyster crackers in his mouth, but does not enjoy chili that accompanies them.

*ADORES Uncle Ray's Nebraska hat, but does not want to wear it. He hates hats.

Year 1, Day 102

Exhausted. Note to self: Do not attempt to clean, de-clutter, AND pack boxes for storage all at the same time. What was I thinking? I am going to skip the complaining, because it was a stupid goal to have. For an ounce of sympathy though, I woke up this morning to a flat tire to start the joyful day of cleaning, but then, I digress . . .

So what it comes down to, is something I already knew before today. The amount of excess that I live in (and most of us live in) in completely astounding. How many baby teethers does Jackson need? I counted ten today - all different sizes, colors, and shapes. I don't think Jackson ever had his little hands on ANY teether for more than 10 minutes, but he sure did have his pick, didn't he? I could equip a large village with the amount of baby teethers in my possession.

So there is not much more to say tonight, other than that I miss my boys. They have been gone all day, so that I could work through this mess without Jackson eating small objects, sitting in packing boxes, and running like hell from the vacuum. Before they do get home tonight, I am going to put my feet up for a second and enjoy a moment or two of silence and peacefulness in a clean house. Signing off for today. Happy Birthday to Auntie Rach! We love you!

Year 1, Day 101

When did I become excited about spending the weekend cleaning? I just stumbled into our condo laundry unit, dragging in two overflowing 100 pounds bags of laundry, and I said to the woman folding her clothing "when did this become my Friday night?" But in all honesty, I am old, and I am happy this is my Friday night. I am ecstatic that all the skinny little bitches are dancing at night clubs and getting ready to parrrrrty til dawn . . . and when they wake up tomorrow at noon, and try to fight for washers and dryers in the laundry unit, I will be done. at home. cleaning my house.

Tomorrow I rented a storage unit, because I am tired of tripping over a pack and play, an exersaucer, bags and bags of clothing ranging from newborn to 12 months, and old toys that Jackson has set aside. Last night, he opted to play with a 4 pack of wrapping paper rolls sealed in plastic. He took hold of that "tower o wrapping paper" and pushed it, pulled it, lifted it, climbed on it, and dragged it around the room. Why clutter the house with useless toys when he adores boxes, tubes, paper, tape, stickers, and crayons. Tomorrow, this is my motto: BACK TO BASICS. I am cleaning, purging, storing, and organizing. I'll let you know how that goes . . . part of me just wants to hire Merry Maids for the day and go get myself a mani/pedi and a swedish massage.

Year 1, Day 100

"Patience: it's only a phase." These were the hopeful words I read in 3 articles, as I desperately searched for any reason why my 15 month old was exhibiting split personality disorder. He is a mess this week. Jackson throws himself on the floor and refuses to get up for things he does not want to do (like go to the toddler room, or simply stand up.) Hold him upright, and you will get jello legs and arms that appear to miraculously lose all muscle and become floppy. Leave the room for a moment, and you will get a screaming child running to find you, and then wanting NOTHING to do with you when he does. It's all in his age - I understand that, but OHHHH how the change happened so quickly. Yay toddlerhood. Embrace the joyous moments, embrace the joy . . .

Here are the things I can count on:

Jackson wakes up happy, and adorned with a smile every morning regardless of a soaked diaper, and waking up at the crack of dawn.

Jackson has fallen into a smooth morning routine that now includes a quick breakfast. We've come to enjoy the mornings before work as a quiet time that is predictable and comforting.

Jackson never has an awful day at daycare. He eats well, loves his teacher, enjoys his friends, and for the most part, likes being there.

Jackson can always be calmed and soothed by "Baby Animals, Sing Alongs" or a pacifier and "Patsy" if things get really bad.

Jackson will stop any activity to eat blackberries, drink from a straw, traumatize the kitty, or watch someone blow bubbles. I'm glad some things never change. Having a few constants in your life makes the rest of the chaos less messy.
Embrace the joy!

Year 1, Day 99

Today, I took the green line into the city for a meeting. It was such an eye opening experience, because I do not take the train often, and don't experience the social experiment that occurs on a daily basis. I was able to grab a seat on the way home, and I had a great view of what surrounded me. Mostly, it was a crowded train car full of miserable people. I couldn't find one person that was smiling or seemed even relatively happy to be living, much less in the spirit of any holiday. The majority of people were minding their own business, with headphones on and the world tuned out.

The most awkward of moments are when there are no more remaining seats. On the way in to the city, I stood in the corner hoping to get as much stability as possible with my wobbly train legs failing me. There was no mistaking my train riding virginity, or at least, long time abstinence. I hadn't been on the T in quite some time, and my inability to balance as the train took curves, abruptly stopped, and jutted forward made this quite obvious. I stood next to a girl that was NOT holding on anywhere, and she was eating a to-go plate piled high with meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and beans, all while texting and not falling on her face. It was fascinating to watch. I wondered how someone can eat a plate a food with the whole train watching her, but pretending not to watch . . . of course, no one offered her a seat to eat her lunch.

A girl came on the train and stood 5 inches in front of my face because she had no other place to go. She wore a hat, bowed her head, and took out a book. She was reading so close in front of me, that I could read her book upside down. It was awkward. For me, not for her. She was reading, while standing with feet apart, steady as a tree, and NOT holding on . . .

The train is always fun *people watching*, but it makes me sad too. I was in a train car with at least 20 people, and not a peep was uttered. No one even acknowledged that a person was sitting, standing, or breathing two inches in front of their face. I understand that it is "against the unwritten rules" to talk to people on the train because it's creepy, but for goodness sake, a smile maybe?? A "Happy Holidays?" Not even the train conductor had any kind of joy in his announcements . . . not that "this is the last stop - everyone get off at Government Center" has room for joy. But, a "goodbye and have a great day" would be uplifting.

My reason for this rant is because I think the best gift we can all give each other this holiday season is a little "pay it forward." Doing a selfless act for someone each day could make a huge difference in everyone's lives. Shoot, even just taking off the headphones and acknowledging each other as humans on the same earth just trying to get by, could be a great first step.

Year 1, Day 98

I have a bulletin board at work that is covered with pictures of you. Most people stop in and gasp, and then ask in amazement "How many CHILDREN do you have?" It's just you. I am obsessed with looking at them most of the day, while I am supposed to be working. There are actually 30 pictures ranging from weeks old to about 10 months, but I couldn't choose my favorites. Each one tells a different story.

There's the one of you with yogurt splattered all over your face and a spoon in your mouth - your eyes just say "this is wonderfuuuul." It was one of the first things you started eating after enduring soy formula for much of your life. I will never forget the smell of soy. It was wretched. I don't know how you drank it - warm nonetheless! It makes me dry heave just thinking about it.

Then, there's the picture of you in your old man pajamas... red, plaid button down shirt and pants that just melt my heart when I see them on you. I think your dad has a very similar pair I just washed the other day. That's a picture I just want to reach out and squeeze.

There's your "just born" pictures with your mop of dark hair. You have little tufts of blonde hair now, with striking blue eyes. No wonder that I put you in a "Lock up your daughters" shirt . . . seriously, you are not allowed to start dating until you are 18.

Thank goodness for Snapfish and the ease of ordering prints these days. I remember when we had to take pictures with cameras and get the film developed at fotomat. They would actually send out the film and you would pick up your pictures weeks later - even double exposed and not centered. Glad to live in this age in order to feed my picture obsession of you. :)

Year 1, Day 97

We "Zillowed" our condo the other day, and we saw that someone in our complex is selling. It has to be our neighbors who share a thin wall with Jackson's bedroom. I've been trying the "cry it out" method, until we cry out of frustration, for some time now. The night time routine is just not working. If I was in bed crying, I think I would forget why I was sobbing and just opt for sleep after about 5 minutes. Jackson has some endurance.

But enough about the negative, because my posts have not been very uplifting these days. Some silver lining moments today were that he transitioned well into the Toddler room this morning. Opening the door, he was a bit wary at first, but one sight of those toys, and his old friends Danny, Eric, and Nina, and he was set for the morning. He sat for AM activities, ate lemon chicken, beans, and mashed potatoes for lunch (they feed him better than we eat.) And, then came back to infants to sleep and play after nap. With such a busy day, we all needed some downtime at home.

Tonight we had all sat in the dark with the Christmas lights twinkling, and we played on the floor. He loves human jungle gym. It's got to be the most highly anticipated way to spend time. Thank god we are still relatively limber and young.
Goodnight - one day closer to the weekend!

Year 1, Day 96

It's a Sunday night, so we had a major meltdown again. All of us were saddened to end the weekend and get back into the swing of things, but Monkey most of all. He cried, uncontrollably for about an hour and was completely inconsolable. Unlike other times this has happened, you could tell you wanted something, but just didn't have the words to vocalize. He would point to his bottle, and then when you tired to give it to him, he would run away across the room.

Jackson would run up to his crib, grab the sides, and cry. If you tried to put him in, he would scream. If you handed him "Patsy" he would throw it on the floor, but then point to his bottle again, and run to his crib. I finally just tried giving him a bottle, in bed, with Patsy. Which, in fact, was a complete failed attempt. He wanted out. No amount of singing, playing, reading, change of venue, or even alone time could get him to stop crying. We finally decided it must be teething, and gave him some ibu. He feel asleep after about 15 minutes of sobbing.

Maybe it's the Sunday funk. Knowing that we all have a full week ahead of us of running around, working, transitioning into new classrooms . . . then again, maybe he is completely thrown off his rocker by the huge tree that sits in the room he plays, and the white coating outside over everything he used to recognize. We definitely shook things up a bit with regards to his schema and what he expects in life. I guess routine really is everything to a 15 month old - it takes this scary big world and fits it down to a size and order that he can manage.

We welcome a new week, and all that it holds - let's take everyday one at a time, and just enjoy the season. Because, we all know that it leaves as quickly as it arrived. Happy Winter - we truly turned a corner here in New England this weekend.

Year 1, Day 95

Hype can really kill a moment. All week, I had pictured our weekend excursion. We were going to bundle the family up on a chilly December Saturday, and drive out to the country. Once we reached Honeypot Farms, we were going to fed the goats, cluck at the chickens, and pet the bunnies. What a perfect little family, just headed to the farm to cut down Jackson's first Christmas tree (I'm pretty certain we didn't get a tree last year because we were exhausted, so I really do think this is his first). After choosing the perfect tree, we would make our way to the roaring fire, and toast some marshmallows. A wonderful day would end by sipping on some hot cider and chowing down on fresh baked cider donuts. Can it be any more of a fantasy?

Until the chainsaws come out . . . forgot that cutting down trees at a farm meant that there would be loud chainsaws everywhere. Jackson was petrified. He hates loud, sudden noises. Basically, we ran around the farm scoping out the smallest trees we could find until we agreed on one that we thought would actually fit in our condo without a problem. Note to self: trees in nature appear much smaller than they are. Between the chainsaw cutting, we managed to toast a marshmallow as he covered his ears, and then we made our way to the country store seeking solace. We found a small child's bench where he could relax and have a little donut and cider. Perfect. Until, he slid of the bench and landed face first on the concrete floor. Ouch. Luckily his fuzzy hat lessened the impact and he was more startled than hurt.

It wasn't until we got him in the truck, safe and far away from the chainsaws, that he was able to relax and fall asleep. He didn't like the Christmas Tree excursion - really, what 15 month old would? It's bitter cold, the animals are smelly, the trees are enormous, and chainsaws roar at every bend. He must be thinking . . . why are my crazy parents cutting down a tree to put in our house?? Take me home for God sake.

Year 1, Day 94

At daycare, today was Jackson's last *full day* in the infant room. On Monday, he will begin his transition into the toddler room. He will eat at tables and sit on chairs with about 10-12 friends each day. He will drink from cups, and he will nap in a cot. Wasn't he just born a short while ago? Please tell me how he is old enough to be a toddler?

He'll be expected to brush teeth (suck the water out of the toothbrush) after snack and put away his blanket and pillow after nap. Of course, he will also have access to little toilets and child size sinks, which means that he will have even more water play in the coming months. It's kind of like a little heaven for this Virgo gone Pisces. He'll be expected to sit in small circle each day to sing, play games, and learn finger plays (for about 2-5 minutes at first). I am excited to see the growth in language and his personality as he makes this transition, but it also feels like a lot of pressure. I am not going into this assuming that this is going to be easy. I know there are going to be some bumps and set backs along the way, and probably some regression before he feels comfortable. But, then again, maybe that's just my anxiety and he'll be happy go lucky, just bounding into the toddler room and embracing it all.

It's only been these past months that we have really seen his personality evolve and shine through, and I love it. Jackson is gentle, curious, a bit risky, highly energetic, and incredibly happy. His laugh is contagious, especially the belly laugh. There is no better sound in the world.

Year 1, Day 93

I could make a million dollars. It's simple: all I would have to do is open up a drive through convenience store. I know it sounds lazy. But, it's not out of a laziness that I ask for one of these miracles to exist. It is purely because I have a 15 month old that is less than tolerant of being in the car - and when he finally dozes off and stops crying his eyes out, I don't want to wake him to bring in into the store for milk. I'm not certain why no one has thought of this yet.

There are drive thru ATMS, drive thru coffee shops, drive thru pharmacies, and down south, there are drive thru liquor stores. I'm not looking for a jug of vodka. I am looking for a quart of milk with a bit more convenience than unstrapping my sleeping baby, waking him, and dragging him into a 7-Eleven, only to attempt the buckling routine with arched back and flailing legs less than 5 minutes later. A store with a "STAPLE" drive thru would be perfect. You can only order eggs, milk, bread, water, and black coffee (creamers to go). No ready made foods, no lattes or mochas. Just the basics. Why not? I guess these don't exist because other mothers have grocery lists more prepared and planned out, and never "run out" of milk, bread, eggs, or coffee. I don't see me becoming that mom, because somewhere, something has to give.

In the meantime, I'll be gathering donations to start my business. *Sleepy Baby Drive Thru* will be open 24 hours. And, at night, along with the core staples, it will offer chocolate Haagen Daz by the pint.

Year 1, Day 92

Re-directing. That is what is you are supposed to do, according to "the experts" in child development, when a little one is doing something that you object too. I object to him putting his hands into Mile's water dish and then pouring it all over his body. Following that, he throws his hands in the puddle of water and "splashes" until it is spread all over the kitchen floor. In my objection to this action, I immediately re-directed him down the hall for his bubble bath. He ran straight for the toilet faster than I could catch him, and plunged his hands in the bowl which was left open by mistake. A lovely few moments of splashing and water play.

Note to self: "NO!" will probably be a better choice than re-direction in the future.

One other note of interest today. Jackson has acquired a very bad personality trait of mine that I am sad to admit. I do, however, have hope that he will overcome it. I was born with no persistence. If I can't do something right away, I give up and usually turn my back on it. It's an awful trait. Jackson tries something challenging, repeats "EH, EH, EH" like he is struggling to lift a 50 pound boulder, and then plops himself on the floor and rolls around in a big mess. No tantrum really - no screaming or crying in frustration - just an all out giving up of sorts. I think that I will follow suit tonight. I am giving up on this day. I am going to do right now....it is 7:45, Jackson is in bed, and I am headed to dreamland.
Goodnight.

Year 1, Day 91

Jackson can officially take off his jacket, shirt, pants, and socks with a bit of starting help! I realized that he could probably have done this weeks ago, but that I got into a habit of doing it for him, so I never noticed. Note to self: Jackson can probably do a lot of things that I automatically do for him without thinking. It's a good reminder to let him show me that he is capable, and to not be so quick to assume that he needs me so much.

Tonight, he also showed me that he can bounce a ball, instead of just rolling it. He was completely thrilled at this discovery and just kept bouncing, spinning around in circles, and squealing in excitement. When winding down tonight, he also spent a long while watching nature shows - enthralled by flamingos and hippos.

Everyday he is showing us that he is one step closer to toddlerhood and leaving the infant room. He is steadier on his feet, and intrigued by his surroundings. He is fascinated by anything that he can make move, turn, flip, and slide - including his own body.

What I learned today: Step back and let Jackson investigate things and try to figure it out for himself. Don't be in such a rush to do things for him, because he knows more than I think he knows. And, he gets such a great deal of satisfaction from showing it off. Welcome, the age of independence.

Year 1, Day 90

Today epitomized the struggle of how difficult it is to be a mom who works outside the home full time, and tries to balance it all. It just can't be done in my opinion. Well, it can be done, but not without the guilt and feelings of inadequacy. Jackson was sick and needed to stay home. I could not stay home with him today, which makes me an awful mother in my opinion. I had no choice but to go to work. Calling out of work after Thanksgiving break would be equivalent to Santa calling out sick during the last Saturday before Christmas at the mall. There is no calling out during Admission season at an independent school - especially after a long break. When you are the only one processing phone calls, making appointments, sending out packets and applications, and greeting families, you better be on your death bed if you are out. So, today, Mike stayed home with the monkey and took him to the doctor.

All that is fine - because Jackson is on the mend and had a nice relaxing day with his father. But I just can't shake the feelings of guilt and frustration over even having to expend energy wondering if I should go to work or stay home when Jack is not feeling well. There shouldn't even be a thought - I should be able to stay home with a sick son and not feel like I am letting people down, and that work is piling up to an uncontrollable and overwhelming level without me there. I should be able to do both things - have a job outside of home and still be present inside the home . . . there are times when it just seems impossible.

Year 1, Day 89

Question: How do you get a baby to stop crying and go to sleep?

Answers:
Change his diaper.
Give him a warm bottle.
Burp him gently.
Rock him.
Rub his back.
Stroke his head lightly.
Put on soothing music.
Sing to him.
Hum to him.
Turn on the humidifier.
Give him Tylenol.
Walk him around.
Read a book.

When all this fails, join in on the crying.

Year 1, Day 87

Jackson is more like a parrot these days than a monkey. He tries to repeat everything that he hears, from "ohhh dear" to "hi guys!" This could be my favorite stage of his development as of yet. I know, I know, I keep saying that, but it really does just keep getting better than the last.

Except for the defiance. Tonight at dinner, he stuck his finger up his nose - farrrr up his nose and kept it there until he had some kind of reaction from us. He's really never done that before, so our initial reaction was to tell him no, but of course, that made him take it out and stick it up further. Then, I physically removed his finger and told him no. That made him laugh hysterically and stick it up the other nostril. Finally, Mike and I decided to ignore the behavior and try to divert his attention to food. No luck, his finger was so far I lost sight of it! With great bewilderment that he wasn't listening, we followed through with the threat - he was playing, so end of dinner. We took him down from the highchair. Follow through - that is the key right?? Then I thought to myself . . . wonderful, we can't even stop him from picking his nose. Perhaps a parenting class is in order?

But then again, guys pick their noses ALL the TIME, so maybe it's like trying to stop a cheetah from running - it's instinct. I'll just give myself a break on this one. You always hear that you have to "pick your battles." I'll let "picking" be a battle he can win, since years and years of evolution of human development are against me.

Year 1, Day 86

Ohhhh you are sick again! I take back the thankfulness for having a healthy baby, as I clearly spoke too soon. I always jinx you. Every moment that I knock on wood for having you boogie-free, you automatically develop some kind of infection that causes your nose to run like a sieve. Here's the thing - besides waking up with a mother's instinct at 3 in the morning and knowing to check on you, I would never know that you are burning up with a fever or are suffering with some kind of cold. You run around here like you are in a pinball machine, and you don't really have a "sick" pace. Your pace is always the same, regardless of your health. You don't let a little stuffy nose and a midgrade fever stop you . . . which is always worrisome to a mama, because I really can't tell when you are under the weather.

Tonight, a little Motrin, a new floppy stuffed puppy I bought you at the drugstore out of sympathy, some cuddles, and a warm bottle. Hopefully that will make you better in the morning. I'm sorry Monkey. Sleep well and hope you feel better. Goodnight love.

Year 1, Day 85

Today was Jackson's second Thanksgiving. Last year, he was such a little baby that he slept through most of dinner and was completely unphased by the holiday. I too, had sleep through most of dinner and was completely exhausted last year, so a year later, things are looking up.

Though Jackson is too young to understand the actual holiday, he knew that today was special. He was pleasantly surprised to have a chance to be with all of his family over these past two days - aunts, uncles, grammies and great grammies, nanas, grandpa, and family friends. As far as the food, turkey and the fixins are not his thing. I'm beginning to think that he might be vegetarian. He turned his nose up at the Thanksgiving feast, but begged and begged for black olives until there was none left in sight. He seems to consume condiments in a shocking and alarming rate . . . if he doesn't like what we are eating, you can usually smother on some ketchup, add a pickle, or give him some olives as an appetizer, and he is ready to chow down. Maybe I ate too many pickels when I was pregnant. I guess that also explains why he could eat a quart of icecream if I let him.

Year 1, Day 84

I have a confession to make. My child's "lovey", Patsy the Patriot bear, is filthy. I'd like to say that Patsy stays in the crib, which has always been the rule. But, somehow the silky blanket makes it way near the cat food, on the kitchen floor, in between couch cushions, and in baby hands grimy with the evenings dinner. I can't remember the last time I was able to wash this coveted piece of fabric. Why can't Patsy have a twin? That way there would always be a blanket. I hate discontinued items. Of course it is discontiued - it is a decapitated bear head sewn to a square of fabric.

Everytime I do a load of laundry, the silky blanket with the bear head never seems to make it in the washer. Maybe he pulls it out of the laundry bag and puts it back in his crib? He is known for cleaning up these days and helping me with our overwhelming clothing situation . . . whatever the case, "Patsy" has seen cleaner days. She could use a spot of detergent, some hot water, and a spin cycle or two.

Not so fast! NEWS FLASH: germs may not be so awful for a child, according to a recent study my brother in law uncovered. So before my sister files a 51A on me, and I get reported for negligence and germ carelessness, I need to state the findings of this study. Children who are exposed to varying types of germs in childhood are found to be much healthier, with less cited cases of illness as a general rule, in adulthood. It's not rocket science - if you are exposed, you built immunity.

In an age where antibacterial dispensers holding soaps, foams, and gels are common fixtures in hallways everywhere, where children are not allowed to sneeze without death stares, and where parents surround children with a germ free bubble to live in, I take a stand. Patsy the Patriot can wait another day for his bath . . .

Year 1, Day 83

There's nothing more amusing to Jackson than watching adults play with his toys. If you could have heard the laughter that echoed from him this afternoon, while his Uncle climbed through his tunnel to chase him . . . likewise, if you grab a book, he plops into your lap for a story. If you stack a block, he builds a tower and knocks it to the ground. If you pick up a football, he goes deep for a catch.

When you turn your head and happen to not pay attention to him for a moment, he will bring you EVERYTHING you never knew you needed. He will hand you a sock from his stockpile, he will offer you a shoe, he will drag daddy's shirt from the laundry into your arms, just to get a smile from you. Uncle Chris was greeted this morning with the most special offering - Jackson handed him "Patsy". Patsy is the coveted silky PATRIOTS blanket with the bear head attached to it. You are only a serious, trusted friend if you are given this bear to hold. It's an honor.

Year 1, Day 82

On your daycare "daily notes", the following was written . . .

"Jackson and Ella talked on the phone together today." Ohhhhh boy. I knew I saw that twinkle in your eye when you entered daycare this morning and saw your girlfriend sitting in her chair, chowin' down on a bagel. You always had a soft spot for Ella. You are already calling girls on the phone and planning your breakfast dates.

How fast you grow up.

"Jackson slept on a cot today!" Really?? I thought he'd sleep on a cot for the first time when he's at a sleepover with one of his buddies and they happen to have an extra cot instead of sleeping on the floor . . . like, in college when he crashes in a dorm room. A cot instead of a crib at daycare?

How fast you grow up.

"Jackson is starting to drink from a cup very well!" I knew he uses sippy cups a lot, but they are talking about the real thing. A full fledged cup. A cup of milk. That needs no further clarification.

How fast you grow up.

A selfish part of me wants to hold you tight and not let you grow up. No girlfriends to love, just your mama. No cots to sleep in, just your cozy crib. No cups to drink from, just a warmed bottle of milk. I want you to be this age - this very age, at this moment, even for just a second longer. Every moment with you is recognized and appreciated for the happiness it brings to my life. I love you monkey, and you will always be my little baby no matter how fast you grow up.

Year 1, Day 81

I can't help that you are so darn cute, and I can hardly stand it:

Patriots score a touchdown, and you cheer and throw your hands in the air right on cue with you daddy. Ninety percent of the time, you end it all with a high five when asked. You rarely leave people hangin' . . .

When a cell phone jingle, car commercial, or anything with a beat comes on TV, you immediately dance by doing small squats and bending your knees up and down. If you are feeling particularly joyful, you "spin" in a circle until you get dizzy enough and land on a heap on the floor.

Your immediate response to someone saying "You go night night" is to drop to the floor and lay your head on something soft, to pretend that you are sleeping. It is precious.

The way you find enclosed spaces to feel hidden and cozy. You want to hide everywhere you can finagle yourself in (under the kitchen chairs, behind the recliner, in back of open doors, etc.)

How you walk around with empty paper towel tubes to your mouth and shout out babble, but you know exactly what you are saying. I can't wait to know...

Things that make me go HMMMM about you:

What is your obsession with toilet paper?? You take it off the rolls, rip it into small pieces, and try to eat it or put it in the bathtub . . .

Why is the humidifier, in your room, the most interesting thing that I have even brought into the house? You would sit there for hours looking at it, taking it apart, finding the water, pouring the water, and watching the steam if it wasn't such a hazard... can't they just make a toy humidifier??

You are always busy. ALWAYS busy doing something, and you never rest until you are sleeping . . . but, baby animals comes on TV and you are fixated. At that point, you can watch the segment completely enthralled, drooling, and not blinking. Where is that attention span and focus??

How can you not like JELLO? Everyone has room for JELLO.

Year 1, Day 80

Eighty days of straight blogging! What comes to mind today, after spending a great day with my boys, is that Jackson has changed so much since I've starting writing these. Everyday, he says new words and makes connections that he didn't have the day before. Today, when he heard the train blaring it's horn miles away, he ran to the slider door and said "CHOO CHOO." Of course, we are so used to the noise that we didn't even hear the train! Kids don't miss a beat. He's always listening.

Jackson and I have a bit of a power struggle going on right now when it comes to brushing teeth, so I've been trying some new things to make that a bit easier on everyone. It's been easier, but today he surprised me out of nowhere with a "NOOOOOOO" when I told him it was time to brush brush brush...wow. Does he really know what no means already, and can actually apply it in protest?? I guess so. Watch out!

Today, it also became very apparent that he can predict what comes next in some instances. After the polar bear segment on a baby animals show that we watch, the show ends. As soon the bears were on their last song, Jackson said "ALL DONE!"

If he has grown this much in eighty days, I can't wait to see where he is at 2 years. He surprises us every single day. Maybe it's because we are clueless parents and really have no idea about infant/toddler developmental milestones, but it's been such a fun ride figuring it all out.

Year 1, Day 79

The initial goal of this blog was to take note of the inspirational moments, the moments that usually pass me by without notice. Today, I had one of those moments when I met with a very dear friend of mine and we spent time "refilling our cups." Surely, you would assume, I mean drinking some alcoholic beverage to dull the stress of the week and bring in the weekend with a numb happiness . . . but that is not the case. "Refilling our cups" refers to the act of discovering hope, and finding peace, when you don't see it right in front of you.

These are the things that I am grateful for today:

I am thankful that my friend made a multiple hour, stressful commute into Boston to spend time with me.

I am thankful that Jackson is healthy and feeling better from his cold after a long week of not feeling quite himself.

I am thankful that Michael took the day off and cleaned the house, and that the electrician he was waiting for, only ended up having to fix a minor issue.

I am thankful that it is Friday and that I have a warm bed to cozy up in right now.
Goodnight.

Year 1, Day 78

Dear Miles the Kitty,

It looks like you have yourself a new playmate, regardless of your non desire to have achieved that goal this year. Jackson has fallen in love with your mouse toy. He is intrigued by the one attached to the elastic string. This is the toy that keeps you entertained while we are gone for the day. But, at this very moment, Jackson has claimed it as his own and you are protesting. He grabs it, wiggles it in front of you, and scurries away dragging it behind him down the hall and through the condo. Some part of him knows that he is teasing you, and that it's this exact motion that is keeping you enticed. There's a little part of your kitty brain that thinks the mouse might really be alive. You pounce, play, and chase Jackson until you can get close enough to stalk the mouse. Jackson is just a little too quick for you.

But, it's great to see you boys playing. Miles, it gives you exercise and the thrill of the chase. It's nice that you are getting positive attention, because I am at my wits end with your evening feedings and distressing cries at night. Do you have a tape worm?? Can you possibly be that hungry every 3 hours?? Was licking my inner ear and eyeball your only option to get me out of bed? Sandpaper tongue on my eye lid did the trick, so yah - happy midnight feeding! I hope Jackson tuckered you out tonight . . .

Year 1, Day 77

Dear Boss,
This is why I am late for work on most days. Thanks for your understanding.

Alarm bells chime at 4:48 in the morning, and there's no snoozing. I've basically decided that snoozing is just a cruel joke on your body, and jolting yourself out of bed is really the only way to do it. It's like taking off a band aid (especially if you have hairy arms...) just rip it off. In the long run, it's less agony.

Before we get out of the house at 6:30, we have changed Jackson's diaper up to three times (once when he immediately wakes, because he is saturated), once by mistake when I could have SWORN I smelled something awful, and once after he does his business. Changing a monkey is not easy, so these three diaper changes are about 10 minutes each.

Before we get out of the house at 6:30, I have changed the sheets on his bed. Every night, regardless of which diaper or insert we choose, his sheets are wet. I think it's because he sleeps with his bum in the air. Regardless, bumpers on a crib make changing a sheet IMPOSSIBLE (I know I shouldn't have bumpers anyway, but feel it a necessity because with his rocking a rolling, he'd have a concussion otherwise). You'd think that changing a sheet would take minimal effort. Nope, 10 minutes later, and sweat pouring down my face, I have now stripped down to a t-shirt layer, and are ready for the next challenge . . .

Putting on his shoes. Before we get out of the house at 6:30, I have struggled for 10 minutes trying to make a game out of putting on socks and shoes. There is NO game to make this task fun. What child wants a clunky shoe on his foot that hampers his drunken running as it is? He wants freedom, and shoes are only a road block. Don't even think that I can just put on socks, and take a breather before putting on the shoes. Nope, socks that are not secured by shoes are at immediate risk for removal. Once they are covering his piggies, wiggling a shoe on at least holds the sock in place. Did I mention that I have shoes with laces? I know, I am just asking for it. But I don't want Jackson to grow up thinking he doesn't need to learn how to tie, or read a real clock, or to learn metric conversions. Yes, you can just google the latter, but that's not the point. Anyway . . .

Before we get out of the house at 6:30, I have given up putting a jacket on this boy of mine. Opening all windows, putting back on my clothing layers for the day, and redoing my sweaty makeup, Mike takes one for the team and battles it out. The monkey is now appropriately dressed to leave, and we all walk to the door saying goodbye to the kitty.

But, before we get out of the house at 6:45, because now we are late . .
Jackson pours the kitty's water dish over his head.

Year 1, Day 76

Today was a whole series of "light bulb moments" for Jackson. It seemed as though, up to this point, he would say the words he knew at random, with a senseless purpose that just satisfied his desire to hear us encourage him and give him praise. But today was different. Today, the animals we had seen in books, and at the zoo became realized in his daily life. He walked around pointing to elephants on his dresser, toy box, and on the rug in his room. All of a sudden, monkeys, giraffes, and zebras were all around him, waiting to be discovered.

Making our way inside the house this evening, Michael asked Jack "where are the stars?" He quickly looked up, threw both hands toward the sky, and just stared off in space. It could be the cutest thing on earth.

What I became fully aware of today, is how much this little guy fully understands what we are saying on a daily basis. We could be talking about the kitty on a car ride home, and as soon as we say "Miles", Jackson will chime in with agreement with a laugh or "CAT". He points at everything and is relentless until he has a name for every object within a mile radius. Beyond recognizing and banking these words, he also is trying to figure out how things work in this world. Knowing how to take things apart and put things back together successfully is a skill that I will definitely encourage because, as his parental figures, we are incompetent when it comes to any type of handy work.

Sometimes there is nothing more to do or say than to just sit back and be in awe of how quickly children learn, process, and make sense of the world. This whole process is nothing short of a miracle.

Year 1, Day 75

Jackson wakes in the morning to face each day with a smile. He opens his eyes and is in a good mood, which I learn from other moms, is not something I should take for granted. I feel blessed that he is cheery when he wakes up, because I am a morning person too . . . now.

Here's what I remember from childhood: My mother would come in and gently try to rouse me from my slumber by rubbing my back, and talking softly to get me out of bed. When I wouldn't respond or pretend not to hear her, she would try singing, and then resort to opening up the shade a bit in hopes that real sunlight could do the trick. After I wouldn't budge, she finally did her best to try to drag me out of bed, but I would stick my legs out and push her away with, what I remember at the time, was some pretty good force. I actually recall shoving my mother, as she flew across the room . . .but I think she was being melodramatic. I hope so. I think it became a game of pushing her away, because it was probably funny the first time I did it, but now I think it was really obnoxious. My poor mom.

Anyway, I am very happy that Jackson is easy to wake now, and that will probably change at some point, but I'm grateful for the early morning moments we have together when I'm the first person he sees and reaches for. It's our little time, away from the craziness of life, that we have to start the day with a smile and a good mood. When I look into that little face after missing him for 8 hours, he just melts me and starts my day off right. From that moment on things can go haywire and life can get messy, but there's always the morning. A fresh new start.

Year 1, Day 74

This weekend was the first weekend in a long while that we haven't traveled. We stuck it out at home, in our little place, and hunkered down for the weekend. Normally, we do go "home" to the comforts of both our mom's houses in Ludlow. We always look forward to spending time at their places (the houses we grew up in as kids) and being with Grammie and Nana. Jackson can run around on grassy green lawns, he can play with dogs and cats, and he can roam free in either house without collecting dust bunnies and ohhhh it's been so long since we did a Spring cleaning . . .

I'm glad we stayed here this weekend though. Michael was under the weather on Saturday, and Jackson came down with the runny nose and bleary eyes today. We all sat in our petri dish of germs and laid low for the weekend. It's a wonder, how in the world, moms seem to have some level of resistance? I eat off the same spoon as the little booger most of the time, I wipe his runny boogies even when I don't have a tissue in reach, and I hold on tight with squeezes, kisses, cuddles even more so when he is not feeling well (which means 24/7). Knock on wood, I remain healthy . . . they should bottle "Mom's Immunity" - I'm sure it would make a fortune.

So hopefully we will all begin the week in good health and rested after this weekend. Both boys appear to be on the mend, and I am ready for an overwhelming week of work ahead. Thanksgiving break is in sight. Thank goodness.

Year 1, Day 73

Jackson entered a new stage this weekend. He is testing limits and trying to see how far his little monkey self can push them. He doesn't test these limits in a malicious way at all - true to his nature, he smiles and laughs. Here's an example: He has never been allowed to touch the remote. He knows that remotes are not for babies. Apparently, he no longer thinks that he is a baby. He loves this remote, but only because he knows it gets rise out of us when he lunges to capture it. Most of the time we remember to keep it out of his reach, but like a hawk, he is always hunting and on alert for our mistake. When it is visible, Jackson will sneak over to the remote and make it known, at that very moment, that he is going to grab it. He looks at us, smiles and laughs with a hand hovering over the control. When we stop him from doing that, he runs over to the television and pushes the power button on the front of the TV. Ohhhh my.

Surely he is now in the stage of gaining independence and trying to make sense of the world and discover what his boundaries are. It is an exciting time for him. Twenty four hours a day, he is surrounded by objects that he can taste, feel, smell, hear, and see. The world must feel like it's endless and that it is all there for his own pleasure. They don't call children egocentric for nothing.
I adore this phase in his life right now. I think it might be the best stage so far. He is so full of wonder and amazement about everything. It's a reminder to myself to explore and enjoy the little things.

Year 1, Day 72

I've always been a believer that you meet people for a reason, and that usually bumping into someone you haven't seen in awhile is actually not a coincidence at all. Maybe we all have messages to give one another in some way - to help a person through a difficult time, to inspire someone, comfort someone, or introduce that person to something unknown to them, which leads them further on their path they wouldn't have discovered.

I met an old friend that I hadn't seen in awhile very unexpectedly this afternoon. We exchanged the normal pleasantries and she asked, right away, "so, Jackson must be saying a lot of new words now?" I replied and told her "Daddy, duck, ught oh, hi, bye, and cat." She smiled and went on to tell me that her daughter had learned about 80 words before she said MAMA, and that she had been so upset by this. She thought she was failing as a mother, because she was a working mom with all her guilt, and her daughter didn't even know who she was. I immediately connected with her and shared my feelings about how Jackson says every version of Dad when he is in the room or not, and how I couldn't understand why "mama" was so difficult to pronounce? Maybe I failed in early attachment with him? And now I was just going to be known as "that lady that does things around the house and leaves you for a large part of the day?" I was sad and guilty and apparently had been carrying this baggage around with me since a few blogs ago . . .

I met this woman today, because we had a five minute conversation regarding what her pediatrician had told her about this very issue. He said that her daughter thinks of her mother as an extension of herself. She does not have a name for her mother, because in her eyes, mommy and her are one. She doesn't have a name for herself either. He basically said that, because there IS such an attachment, she doesn't need to call you anything - you inherently know and predict her needs - and fulfill them. There is little need to call you by a name, because you are always there with a motherly bond strong enough for language not to be needed.

Like the cliche "Rain on your wedding is good luck", maybe this doctor just told this BS story to make the woman feel better about herself and understand that she was a good mom. Maybe all the psychoanalyzing is also BS and the baby just really can't pronounce and mmmmm sound yet. Whatever the case, it made me feel good to meet her today, and to unexpectedly get that thought passed along to me. You meet people for a reason everyday, and if you just open your mind a little, and let them inside, there's usually a message waiting for you.

Year 1, Day 71

WARNING for sensitive stomachs: DO NOT read while eating.

This evening, I caught myself saying something to Michael that made me chuckle the moment it came out of my mouth. As he stood in the kitchen scraping dinner plates and I knelt in the shower feverishly scrubbing the tub floor, I declared - with absolute certainty - "Poo really isn't that big of a deal to me anymore."

I was scrubbing the tub, because Jackson has made a 3 time habit of waiting to do his business until he is swimming away, splashing around, and making good friends with Mr. Ducky in the tub. And then,OPPS! ABORT MISSION! Bath had turned into diaper explosion, minus the diaper. It probably makes you not want to be my house guest ever. I apologize, but we do bleach it all right away and scrub for hours.

So, given this experience, I've whiffed the smelliest, changed the worst, and seen anything I can dream of seeing when it comes to baby diapers. It just gets to a point where nothing surprises you, so you don't get skeeved out or upset. You can take it all in stride, which is surprising given the fact that changing diapers and dealing with the retching is something you wonder how you will deal with as a new parent.

Of course, there was bound to be at least one blog about toilet talk, but I really did learn something today: Exposure therapy DOES work. Anyone who is phobic about stuff like this should really just borrow a one year old for a few days, feed him a regular diet, and you'll see that changing diapers and cleaning messes is just another day in the life - it becomes as mundane as washing dirty dishes. You might just end up thinking that "poo really isn't that big of a deal anymore."

Year 1, Day 70

I want to be 14 months old again, if only for the purpose of being able to wear pajamas with feet . . . without ridicule. When I come home from a long day at work, I want to cuddle up in a one piece, fuzzy outfit that includes non-skid shoes and one zipper to put on with ease. It's basically like wearing a light weight blanket, but with the ability to move about and not get tangled up in it.

Let's be honest, it would be a carnival to be 14 months old again. Not only could you wear your pajamas every day without people questioning you, but the following actions are considered within the "normal" range for your age . . .

It's expected that a 14 month old would experiment with the toilet paper by unraveling the roll and making streamers . . . as he ran around naked to avoid his bath.

It's understood that he will plunge his hands into any standing water that he sees fit. This can include water bowls for the kitty, toilet water, dish water, water that has spilled on the floor, and any puddle that is created by nature or accident.

It's unreasonable to expect that he will always love the dinner you slave over each night . . . even though he ate the same food a few days ago and could not shove it in fast enough. Maybe he decided to go vegan, and doesn't know how to articulate that choice yet.

It's okay for him to grasp people legs and reach up to them with eyes that say "please please please, don't leave me down here, I want to be with you!" But then, to decide at the exact moment of being picked up, that he wants DOWN. Wishy washy behavior is highly tolerated in 14 month old.

Finally, it is completely endearing to see a 14 month old dance by stiffening his upper body and bouncing at the knees. When I dance like that, it's not as funny . . . not even when I wear my feet pajamas.

Year 1, Day 69

Dear Michael,

I think I remember you from some time ago. Before we had a child in tow, we would sit lazily on the couch and watch marathons of Ghost Hunter, Man v. Wild, and Storm Stories. We would order in, delivery of course, and lounge around while I practiced reflexology on your aching feet (trying to get enough hours in for certification). Like great big nerds, we would take our books with us to bed at 8, and read for an hour together. There was even the time we would read Paul Revere's biography out loud together as I dozed off. It's been quite some time since we read books for leisure, or watched nature shows. Looking back now, we thought we were actually "busy" and didn't have enough time to accomplish things we wanted to.

I think I remember you from some time ago. Wasn't that you? We used to go to bed very early, and wake up late together. We used to go to the movies on a whim or eat at Legals without worrying about our bank account. People would make fun of you at work for being a DINK (double income, no kids) and we thought we were destitute at the time. Looking back now, we had more money flowing in than we could have dreamed of. Where did it go?

I think I remember you. You were my first real boyfriend in 7th grade, and not to mention a close playmate in Nursery School. We had mutual friends and were high school sweethearts Senior year. And then we married 8 years later. Looking back now, we were at the prime of our lives. I'm so glad you knew me before I got wrinkles, gray hairs, and acquired this new body of mine.

I do remember you, but I see you now as an incredibly loving father and a wonderful husband. I cherish those times we had together before Jackson, but everyday I am reminded how rich and fulfilling our lives have become with Jackson in it. I hang onto those old days with great happiness, but I also look forward to our new days ahead in a way that I can't even begin to put into words.

Year 1, Day 68

There is nothing more funny, in this world, than watching Jackson crack himself up. He shrieks, squeals, and belly laughs all at the same time. It usually occurs when he *thinks* that Miles,the kitty, is chasing him. Poor Miles - he could care less. He just wants his food 8 times a day/night, fresh water, and a soft place to sleep. He isn't much interested in chasing children around at his old age. But, Jackson pretends that the kitty IS chasing him (because he can't have a dog to play with.) He uses his imagination and runs around the room touching the kitty, circling him, and laughing his little butt off. He runs away, falling down and squealing like something is nibbling at his ankle, and he makes his way back to Miles falling over in a belly laugh. The kitty concedes sometimes, as if to say "okay, if I just play this game one time, I'll be good for another hour or so." So, he flips for Jack just to entertain him for a moment, and let Jackson touch his fluffy white belly. Jackson takes this gesture as a game of tag, and he is off, on the run, yet again . . . though nothing is chasing him.

Miles, the kitty, wakes me up more times than Jackson ever did for nightly feedings. Most of the time, he is the reason why I am a zombie most days. I like it best when he walks me up at 4:35 in the morning. He knows that it is just enough time that I won't be able to go back to sleep before my alarm at 4:58. I lay in bed and curse.

So you ask why I tolerate midnight wakings and incessant meows for food and attention? Because Miles was our first living and breathing responsibility as a couple. We were quite obsessed with him. We talked about Miles whenever we were together. When we were away from Miles, we would imagine what he was up to at home. Sleeping perhaps? Perching himself on a windowsill? Basking in the sun? When you devote 70% of your time as a couple to talking about your cat, it's time for a baby.

I'm happy to say, that Miles is still a huge part of our lives, even when I curse him at night for keeping me awake while my baby snores away in dreamland. Maybe Miles doesn't fully appreciate the fact that our family has grown by one, but at least he entertains Jack at times and rushes for high ground when he's had enough torture for the day. Jackson love him and finds him thoroughly entertaining. He finds the kitty irresistible, as irresistible as we find his endless belly laughs and high pitched shrieks.

Year 1, Day 67

Dear Monkey,

I learned a lot about you this weekend, and the new things that you can do! Who taught you all this???

1. Give you the right size soccer ball, and you can kick that bad boy outta the park. You have a talent for kicking and for throwing. Naturally, with both your parents as long time residents of "Little Portugal", you were bound to be born with some kind of soccer ability.

2. You have a memory for things in the abstract. At Nana's today, you pointed up the stairs and said "BALL." Last week, we took down a large medicine ball from her room upstairs and brought it down. Where was it now? You made his way up the stairs looking for it, and when you found it, you shouted "BALL!"

3. You know that a sheep says "BAAA BAAA"!

4. You can hypothesize that it was actually a cat that was rustling in the bushes as we walked by. You said, clear as day - "CAT!", though we didn't actually catch a glimpse.

5. You don't like sweet potatoes. at all. not even drenched in butter.

6. You know what a duck is, and seek it out everywhere. When you find one, alive, stuffed as a toy, or in a picture, you make it known with a great big "DUCK." Sometimes you refer to cats, dogs, and mama as "DUCK" as well. It's okay - DUCK is a good filler if you can't find the right word in that exact moment.

The last thing I realized about you this weekend, is how very special your family is to you already. You didn't want Nana to leave and cried your eyes out for her today. You wanted to stay at Grammie's all night and kicked your legs a mile a minute when you saw her. You offered all your toys to your Auntie Sha Sha and Uncle Doug. You gave High Fives to Grandpa, Uncle Ray, and Kevin. You even gentle petted Molly, Brady, and Logan. We ended the night with a long distance kiss to Uncle Stouffer and Auntie Rach, and a shout out to Miles the kitty (already asleep and curled up.)
Love you Monkey!

Year 1, Day 66

I was "one of those moms." Jackson was my first, and I was going to be so organized. Before I had him, I sat in front of piles of clothes that were donated to me from friends, or bought for him. I would sort through the precious outfits ranging from 3 piece suits and matching tie, to inappropriate T-Shirts with beer references. My goal was to organize these outfits by size, until I realized that it was an impossible feat. Some were 0-3 months and they wouldn't have fit him in utero much less after birth. Some clothing ranged from 6-12 month and other clothing just downright looked as though it was completely mislabeled and could fit a toddler of record breaking proportions. That task of organizing wasn't easy. But I hunkered down in my nesting phase and folded, hung, and neatly stored every stitch of clothing . . . after it was washed twice in Dreft, of course.

Ask me if I use Dreft now? I think I still have a bottle of it collecting dust in the storage closet. But think about it: it is your first challenge as a "soon to be" mother. All of a sudden, the detergent aisle becomes an abyss of guilt, as you glance at the Dreft and quickly contemplate the necessity for it before another mom sees you and judges you. For heaven sake, your baby is living in a sac of fluid for 9 months, so he's got to be pretty tough. But then guilt reigns and your soft side kicks in . . . you picture your beautiful bouncing newborn wearing clothes that have been washed in commerical detergent *GASP* that you threw in with a load of YOUR OWN clothing. How dare you?? Before the Department of Children and Families files a 51A, you pick up the DREFT, like I did, and you use it once. And, then you find out that it smells like s**t, and your not going to make your baby endure the wretched fragrance anyway, or lack of fragrance perhaps.

Does anyone out there really have time to wash their children's clothes in separate "baby clothes" loads, accompanied by special detergent? At this point in our lives, Jackson is lucky if I don't recyle his pants most days.

So, there go the days of preparing for the baby that hadn't arrived . . . folding his clothing and washing his outfits in special detergents. Making sure I had the "required" 6 onesies, 5 bibs, 3 receiving blankets of different weights, bottles that were BPA free. I sadly admit that "nesting" did take ahold of my brain and I was held hostage by the desire to organize, prepare, and obsess over every little thing. But I do have to say, in all honesty, that time has past. And, while it allowed me to control things in my life when I felt I had no control, I now let things go with great ease. As I pull open a drawer filled to the brim with clothing shoved in, and ranging of all sizes, I have to laugh. The disarray of clothing before me, that had been washed in a laundry mat with PUREX on sale only moments ago, had at least made it to his dresser drawer. Congratulations to me! It was no longer on the floor in a pile that I let him jump into . . . so, at least I know I'm still a good mom.

Year 1, Day 65

Jackson reverted back to his normal self today. He is the cutest darn child I have ever layed eyes on. He was so wonderful this afternoon, from the car ride home to the ease of bedtime. For dinner, he even ate spinach and garlic noodles for heaven sake. What child eats garlic in such mass quantities? We had so much fun with him after work, from being his personal jungle gym, to reading, and watching animal shows. It's amazing how his happy mood can change my day for the better. Maybe Jackson knows it's Friday. I don't think I could have worked another day, and he probably felt the same way about being "on" at daycare for another day.

At daycare, two little boys have started in his class. They are tiny babies - Matteo and Donovan. Jackson runs over to them as they sit in their swings, and he gently taps their heads with one finger . . . only to run away in a split second. It's a game he started. I think he's fascinated with little ones. Maybe he wants a brother. Maybe we should just get a dog first...

As you can see, I am all over the place this week with regards to my goals for life. Hopefully, Mike and I can find a few moments in the next month to make plans for the next 30 years or so. We'd both love to retire, but we have decades of work before us. So, I bought a scratch ticket tonight, thinking my luck was bound to take a turn for the better after the horrid week I had. Nope. Not a dollar. Oh well, his smile and cuddles are worth a million to me tonight, so I am rich.

Year 1, Day 64

There was a definite invasion of the body snatchers today. Someone replaced my sweet, sweet boy, with a grouchy, obstinate child that I did not recognize. Has anyone seen Jackson? I left with him this morning, but the seed of Chucky has come home with me.

Maybe he's just having a bad day. When I arrived at daycare this afternoon to pick him up, I heard the shrills of complete hysteria coming from the infant room. I knew it was my little screaming monkey right away. When I got there, his Daddy was holding him, bright red with tears streaming down his face. He was not ready to leave daycare. What?! Shouldn't he want to go home and see his mommy and daddy? Didn't he know how much I missed him today and how I spent hours at work longingly looking at pictures of him plastered around my office? The pang of guilt I feel for dropping him off at daycare everyday, morphed into a jealously rather quickly . . . he wants to stay with his friends and color?? Apparently, Jackson had learned to make drawings with the crayons, instead of eating them, so he was determined to finish his artwork.

After diffusing that situation, we made it out of the room unscathed, and he made a beeline for the fish tank. We watched the fish for a few moments, but he wasn't ready to leave. He was transfixed. No amount of preparation or warning was going to help him to move on. He wanted to be swimming in that tank with those fish. He did not want to be strapped into a car seat for 45 minutes - in the darkness nonetheless (as it is pitch black when we drive home now). Wouldn't he nap? Nope. A long, whiny ride home was in the works. Nothing, I repeat nothing, kept his interest. He wanted out of the car seat and into the world.

Making it home, finally, Jackson refused to eat a thing we were having for dinner. So, I decided he must not be hungry and took him out of his high chair. Twenty moments later, he was screaming for food - unable to articulate, but pointing to everything that was edible in sight. Then, he moved about the room, flinging himself around like a pinball, opening cabinets, taking the remote control with a sinister look, and crying all the while . . . not wanting to be held, wanting to be held, and unable to be comforted.

So we put him to bed. And, he fell asleep quickly. Hopefully Chucky has left and Jackson returns by morning . . .

Heavens, is this toddlerhood?? GASP.

Year 1, Day 63

Today was a reaffirmation that Jackson needs a dog. Well, maybe it's just that I need a dog, and I'm pretending that Jack actually has a strong desire to have 4 legged animals invade his space. When Jackson was first born, I googled "apartment dogs + kid friendly" and ended up with the perfect match for us. It was an English Bulldog. I loved this dog at first sight and wanted one immediately. Mike would not even entertain talking about it, much less conceding. So, I devised a sneaky plan. I stopped bothering him with useless babble about the dogs profile and stats, and all the wonderful comments from owners of the breed. Instead, I did the most obvious next step that any woman will do when her husband won't budge. I photocopied a hundred pictures, in ranges of sizes from poster to miniature, of the most adorable English Bulldog that I ever set eyes on . . . and hid them everywhere Mike would look. Each picture had a special phrase attached, such as "Look at me Daddy! Aren't I precious?" Inside the laptop, on his dashboard, bathroom mirror, pillowcase, toilet seat cover . . .

I think it could have worked. But, after further investigation, this type of dog costs a mere fortune due to one little issue. Because the dog's nose is so smooshed, there is some problem with the delivery of this breed and their ability to breathe. So, they must be surgically removed by c-section. Hence the 5,000 dollar price tag. Ouch. So, my dream died there, and I sadly recycled my photos throughout our condo.

But, today, Jackson revived my dream of having a dog, because of news at daycare. Jack's teacher was eager to tell me how great he was with the puppy that was brought into school today. He adored the dog. He was so gentle with it and softly pet it . . . Once we have a yard, a dog is a given. For now, I can dream, but it's nice to know that Jack is a dog lover too!

Year 1, Day 62

When did Jackson grow up so fast? Was it during the midnight feedings? Was it during the sleepless nights that Mike and I lay awake drowning in our feelings of inadequacy as parents? Maybe it was when he was was learning to walk and run? Or when he enjoyed car seats and strollers . . . before he discovered freedom of his moving limbs. Maybe it was when he noticed that his hands belonged to him, or when he could control his own voice from whispers to squeals.

I'm not sure when it happened, but in a blink of an eye, Jackson is now a toddler. Today we were told that he would begin making his transition from infants to the toddler room at daycare very soon. Exciting, but so sad in the same breath. We will miss that room. It was a nurturing place with wonderful teachers and it was our little sanctuary in a scary world out there. Jackson was always eager to be at daycare, and to see his friends every day. It was a routine we fell into very easily.

Today, Jackson sat at the big boy table in his infant room to eat breakfast. It's equivalent to graduating from the kids table at family holidays. He ate his eggs and fruit at a small table, in his own chair, with a spoon. He he even managed to put some food on the spoon and make it to his mouth. He is such a love.

There's no crawling anymore to get around, and we try our best to let him walk and run most places. It's difficult when we are in a hurry, to slow down and let him pick up every leaf and examine them on the way inside a building. But, factoring extra time into our travels allows him to explore the world a bit and it let's us appreciate the little things too.

It still seems impossible for this little boy to have been a few bundles of microscopic cells less than 2 years ago, and now he's a little boy that walks and talks and wants things. And, manages to get his needs met without language in this complicated world.

In the grocery store, in long lines at the mall, walking to my car in parking lots, and visiting with families at school, every mother said the same thing to me when I was pregnant. "Enjoy the baby stage, because it goes by so fast." I took the advice, and fully appreciated those 365 days of surprises, happiness, frustration, jubilation, and joy. Savoring those moments is advice that I would pass on in a heartbeat.

Year 1, Day 61

Jackson is a Daddy's boy. His first was word "da-da" . . . blatant and clear as day. When he's scared, he runs to Daddy. When he is hurt, he runs to Daddy. When he falls asleep, he sleeps on Daddy. I'm not bitter. He doesn't realize that I carried him for 9 months and spent days of excruciating labor to get him into this world. He has no way of knowing that. I'm not bitter.

Mike, a true mama's boy, keeps telling me that Jackson will grow into toddlerhood and want ONLY his mama, at least for some point in his life. Maybe he's right? Doesn't Freud have some crazy theory that all boys want to marry their mothers during a stage of development? With my luck, he may give me a kiss on the cheek when he wants to car keys, but I don't see him evolving into a mama's boy. I'm not bitter though.

Jackson has now moved from "da-da" to "daddy". I won't be surprised if he graduates to "father" before I get my "ma-ma." Yup - I am basically known as "baa-baa." I am as good as a sheep. I wonder if I didn't kiss him enough (though I am surprised that I didn't kiss his face off with all the smackaroos I gave him since birth). Maybe I didn't pick him up fast enough when he cried, or let him sit in his pee diaper too long? Maybe I overfed him, or didn't give him enough fun time during bath . . . I always seem to be more of the disciplinarian than I'd like. Mike is the "fun one." I'm not bitter though.


So, here I stand bitterless, and holding out hope to hear MAMA, blatant and clear, and used for an endearing reason . . . not just when he is out of ravioli and needs a refill of milk. I hope I'll hear "MAMA - I love you" sometime before he hits puberty and hates me again. I'll hold out hope for now, and just let Mike shine in his role of the perfect and wonderful "daddy, da-da, father" and every version that he is.

Year 1, Day 60

Today is the birthday of two very special people in Jackson's life. His Grammie his dad's side, and his Grandpa on my side. They both share the same birthday. Jackson had the chance to celebrate with two special ladies this weekend. His wonderful Grammie and Great Grammie. He is so lucky to have these women in his life. His Grammie has raised two fantastic sons, one of which is the love of my life. I can not thank her enough for the support she has given me, our little family, and for the love she shows Jackson every day. We are so lucky.

Today is also the birthday of Jackson's Grandpa, who is in heaven, just looking down on him everyday. Though he can't be here to take him fishing, take him on ride in the truck, or go on long walks in the woods, I know that he is with my son every single moment of his life. In a strange way, I always knew that I was having a little boy - even when I first discovered we were pregnant. My dad had lived for the moment of having a grandson, after living in a house full of estrogen for his whole life. But, I was a tomboy and a daddy's girl all in one, so I came close to being that "boy" for him . . . though I could never imagine the amount of joy on his face when his grandson, Jackson Robert Wells, was born into this world. So, on his birthday today, 10 years after his passing, I want to let Jackson know that his Grandpa will always be a special part of his life, even when he can't be here with us each day.

Because I know he would do it with you if he could, I will take you to the tops of mountains, kayak you through rapids on rivers, take you on bird watching ventures in the woods, and teach you to love the world around you in every way that I can. I will show you how important it is to be respectful of your elders, to be respectful to the earth and all it's creatures. I will remind you to tell everyone in your life how important they are to you everyday. And, to do whatever you can for your family, because they will stand with you through the good and bad times. Most importantly, I will walk you on the sandy beaches, and pick up smooth rocks along the way . . . these treasures, you will tuck away and keep forever, as a symbol of my love for you.

Year 1, Day 59

The doorbell rings in the dark of night, and you peer outside. Standing at your door is a Ninga, a skeleton, a ballerina, and monster holding out a bag and saying "Trick or Treat". You hand over candy, comment on "cute" the individual with a sword looks, and laugh as you close the door . . .

To a little boy Jack's age, how does one make sense of this odd holiday?? Everytime the doorbell rings, from this point on, will he expect to see random people begging for candy? He doesn't know it's Halloween, but even if he did, it is still an odd concept to get your head around.

Well, regardless, Jackson joined in the fun and let me exploit his cuteness for Kit Kats. Without a great battle, he succumbed to the moneky suit, and sweated his little bum off for an hour or so. He walked up to doors and stood there, as people pointed and adored him with great big smiles. That's all Jack needed. He's a sucker for attention, especially from the ladies. Hey, he'd dress like a monkey every day if it meant that he could get attention from females, and have some sort of sugar too boot. What a perfect day!! Even if it means enduring the wrath of some candy stealing Ningas and scary skeletons.