Year 1, Day 364 (really 365 due to miscount in double digits)

Dear Jackson,

How do I end this journey? I have spent 365 days recording moments of your life that moved me and touched me in a way that changed me forever.  I mistakenly assumed that I was giving you a gift, by making this commitment to record your journey. But, it is truly my gift. It is mine, because through you, I have learned more this year about myself than I could have ever imagined possible, and I have learned that I am the luckiest mother in the world to have you as my son.

In less than five hours from now, you will turn two years old.  Happy Birthday and I love you with all my heart.

I am not entirely certain when you will re-live this year of life, your journey from 1 to 2 years old.  Maybe I will read some of these stories to you as you rest your head on my shoulder before bed. Maybe I will wait until you graduate from high school, so that you realize how incredibly far you've come, and can appreciate the journey. Or, just maybe, I will keep this a secret, until you have a child of your own. Because, only then, will you be able to smile at the funny and sweet moments, and cry, in empathy, at the moments of self doubt and pity.  You will understand someday . . . trust me.

Tonight, the entries stand as a reminder that every page of our life is truly unwritten.  Every morning when the sun rises, we have an opportunity to begin anew.  We have an obligation to reflect each day and not take the good things for granted, let the bad things fester, or ignore the miracles before our eyes everyday.  Jackson, you are my miracle, and I am so blessed in this world to have you as my son.  The joy, the complete happiness, and the love that you have brought into our lives is immeasurable. I don't need to record those moments anymore . . . they naturally settle here, in my heart, where you will always belong.   

Year 1, Day 363

"Mommy, Daddy - It's so good to have you here." That is what Mike and I were greeted with last night, when we got home with Jackson. I swear, sometimes he is 2 going on 30.  It was the sweetest way to end a day.  And, I truly do believe that he was happy to have us there, at home, because he had a worse day yesterday than I thought . . .

Not only didn't the "biting" incident occur, but he was sitting at the table and was pushed off his chair into the edge. He had a huge blood blister on his lip. I can only imagine how much that hurt/felt awkward (like he had a balloon on his poor lip.) he is a tropper. 

Today, Jackson's day was so much better all around, and to top it off, I learned wonderful news. My school is closed on Friday (due to the impending storm Earl and the long weekend!) which is actually Jack's birthday!!So Jackson and I are meeting an old, dear friend and celebrating his 2nd birthday in style! Out of work and out of daycare! What a great gift!

Year 1, Day 362

Not too long ago, I had the call from daycare that Jackson was bitten by a classmate. The tables have turned.  Today, a phone call alerted me of the following: "we just want you know that Jack bit a friend today." Okay. Deep breath. What does that mean? Did he just wander up to a so called "friend" and take a chomp out of his leg, or was he defending himself to the bitter end? So, while all this goes through my mind as a mother, I wonder if I am failing at my job? Are we not setting enough limits? Is there too much structure, or not enough structure?  Are we doing something different at home to stress him out? Or . . . is he just being a toddler? 

But then, I reign myself in . . . this isn't about me. I can't control everything that he does or doesn't do.  This is about him, being unable to express frustration and anger, or even know what that is at this age.  He is not even two yet, so he is learning. He is learning that teeth are for food, not people. I am learning to chill out and not blame myself for everything I don't have control over.  It's a process. We'll get through it.  In the meantime, we will practice being gentle and caring with our "friends", but when your friends really PIS* you off at this age, what do you do? There aren't a lot of options for a two year old. he's mastered "I need space" and "give me space" but  there's nothing equivalent to "get the heck away from me for the 100th time, you are annoying me relentlessly and taking my toys against my will." I guess that equates to a bite. 

Year 1, Day 362

A colleague of mine dropped her son off at his daycare for the first time today.  He cried relentlessly until she left the building.  Up until that point, she had a nanny at home who took care of her son while her husband worked from home.  I felt for her today, as she recounted the teary drop off and how it escalated.  She described the scream cry, and the way it takes his breath away . . . as well as yours when you leave the building.

I couldn't lie to her and tell her it gets easier.  On the contrary, I feel as though it gets more difficult as the crying becomes intermittent.  On the days when he actually does have a teary drop off, it makes me think that he just doesn't want to go through the same old day again - that he is tired of being surrounded by 12 kids of differing ages and maturity levels, all fighting for the same toys.  It's like having a brood of brothers and sisters and living in a tiny house.  And then I think that, maybe he misses us and just wants to be home . . .

I'll never stop feeling guilty about being at work, while on the other hand, and I feel as though day care (full of stimulation, the knowledge imparted by older children, and the socialization) is an important part of his life that truly is beneficial for his development. There is such a conflict . . . and as I noted today, by my colleague, it's something every mother struggles with until she is comfortable with her choice. I'll find that comfort someday.

Year 1, Day 361

I am chopped liver. Once Daddy came home, I am quite invisible these days. Jackson was so excited to see him this weekend, that he just cuddled up close and wouldn't leave his side for 2 days.  Even when we went for a walk in the woods today, he clutched Daddy's hand and wouldn't let go.  Jack kept telling him to "come here Daddy, play with me Daddy, and sit here Daddy."  It was so nice to have him back home with us.

We also took a trip to the farm this afternoon, but soley because Jackson is obsessed with roosters and thought he saw a thousand of them on our walk in the woods.  He first saw a rooster at Grammies house, where her neighbor owns one (and wakes her bright and early every morning). The rooster is definitely Jackson's favorite animal at the moment. I would say that the turkeys at the farm were a close second.  There were about 100 pure white turkeys, roaming free, and extremely friendly. They would come right up to you and sit an inch away from you. I wish they weren't so friendly. I don't think I can eat turkey for Thanksgiving this year . . .  

Year 1, Day 361

My mother, since Jackson was old enough to walk, has been obsessed with Stride Rite.  I thought Stride Rite was Pharmacy, but, I quickly discovered that it is a shoe store for children. I was confusing it with Rite Aid. Anyway, I'm sure every mother who followed Dr. Spock holds this store in highest regard...as my own mother does. It seems to be an obsession with that generation.

But, today I found out why.  You'd have to imagine, that when I gave, even an inkling about Jackson needing new sneakers for the fall, my mother jumped on that. Immediately, I was told to "look in the phone book, ugh, I mean Google it" to find out where on earth this shoe store existed within a 100 mile radius.  It doesn't exist, apparently, but there are many stores that sell Stride Rite shoes.  So off we went.

We met my sister for this venture.  It was a family affair, this shoe fitting for Jackson. It was the first time his feet would be measured and sized for a perfect fit. We walked into the store, and I quickly found out why my mother loves this place. 

The very eager, knowledgeable, and extremely child friendly man helped us, while impressively dealing with multiple customers under age 10, simultaneously. Basically, he was Jesus performing miracles before my eyes. He tried to use the measuring tool to get Jacks exact size, but Jackson wanted nothing to do with the contraption, so he went to Plan B. Mr. Friendly shoe man decides that he can "guess" his size if Jackson would walk around the store.  He wouldn't. He jumped up into my arms and was completely cautious as to what the next step would entail.

Mr. Friendly, kindly brought out a few pair of sneakers that I had my eyes on, and Jackson just fell in love with them.  He said "WOW" when we got the blue pair on his feet.  He walked around in them, and we found that 7.5 wide was his actual size (Mr. Friendly had guessed perfectly.) Apparently, I was way off base, as the incompetent mother that I am, and I had been squeezing him into size 6.5 and 7 shoes . . . no wonder why he always took them off when we got into the car every day.

Ready to cash out with the blue ones, I made a last second decision to buy the brown/khaki color ones in the same exact shoe. I figured they would match with more of his clothes. Holding them up to Jack, and showing him these new shoes, he shouted "DON'T LIKE THOSE!" and pushed them away. Rather emphatically, he pointed to the blue pair instead. Don't let children this age fool you - they know what they want.

And so, our family venture for shoes came to a close with one happy boy, and a believer . . . a convert to the world of Stride Rite.    

Year 1, Day 360

When Mke comes home and we drive into work on Monday, there will be no tolerating the shrieking. Why? Because Jackson's screaming in the back seat really had nothing to do with being uncomfortable.  It didn't have anything to do with "not having enough to do."  It didn't have an ounce to do with being car sick, or being bored.  It does however, have everything to do with a battle for attention.

While Mike was away this entire week, we had NOT one screaming episode in the back seat.  He was perfectly content, playing with Patsy and listening to the music.  Not a peep.  We talked some, but most of the time, I was concentrating on driving.  The only thing that I can now attribute his protests to, are a cry for attention when Mike and I are talking amongst ourselves. 

We'll test this theory out Monday.  Until then, what sweet rides we have had this week.

Year 1, Day 359

Try to explain to a 2 year old that you don't have a bakery, and you can't make munchkins appear magically.  My fault entirely, but swinging through to get an iced coffee a couple times a week, I buy 3 munchkins for him "as a treat" every now and then. This morning, I asked for glazed and to my surprise, they gave him chocolate glazed. They were like miniature balls of pure heaven for him.  He obviously couldn't get them off his mind. Today, on the way home from work, he let me know his strong desire to "have a treat." "Treat Mama . . . I want moonchkin" was all I heard bellowing from the back seat.  He is spoiled and I am at fault. I am the mother I never thought I'd be. He watches TV, eats donuts, and says "Jesus" to everything that surprises him.

The Jesus thing is definitely from me. I've tried replacing it with Gee Wiz, but it just doesn't flow as well. I always take Jesus's name and use it in vain. I am certain my place in hell is staked out, and that there is plenty of kindling being collected at the moment, for my arrival.

In the meantime, we are waiting with bated breath for Mike to come home.  Jack keeps running into the kitchen when our neighbor unlocks his door.  In the car this morning, Jackson kept saying to Patsy "that's MY DADDY!" as though he was imagining him there. We miss the car rides together. We miss the routine that we constantly complain about - yes, it's boring and uneventful, but that's the way we like it. We miss you daddy, and we wish you a safe and quick trip home Saturday morning.

Year 1, Day 358

Yes. I have a teddy bear that my mother gave me when I was far too old to even think about teddy bears. I was probably 12 or so, when I woke up one Christmas morning to a great big squishy bear, adorned with a red velvet bow. Since then, 20 years later, it has become more floppy and worn with tears, but has held up remarkably well (although his fur tends to fall out when you pull on it). I think I took it to college. No wait, I KNOW I took it to college. It has traveled with me from my home, to college, to my first apartment with Mike, and to our condo now.  His name is Bear, and has always been Bear. I was never that creative when it came to naming animals/pets.

And so, Bear has been passed onto Jackson, because, once you have a child, nothing is yours anymore by the way :)  But that's okay, because I'm 32 now and need way more than a teddy bear to comfort me. Last night, I witnessed the sweetest thing . . .  

Jackson was in the bedroom, on the floor, when I peered in and saw him gently covering Bear with his blankie.  He rubbed his tummy and said "It's okay Bear. Mama here, Bear.  Don't worry Bear."  And then, as if that didn't bring a tear to my eye already, he scooped Bear up in his hands, cradled him "like a baby" and said "Are you okay Bear?"  The best part about the story is the voice he was using.  It was so nurturing, gentle, and calming . . . it's a reminder that little ones are constantly taking note of what you say and do, isn't it?     

Year 1, Day 357

The total infatuation with all things "choo choo, Barney, and Baby Animals" related has now taken a back seat to The Wiggles.  Last night as I made dinner, Jackson turned his nose up to any show I turned on for him.  Exasperated, I said "Well, what do you WANT to watch then?" of course, not really thinking he'd answer me.  Without skipping a beat, he said "Wiggles."  I had no idea he even knew what the Wiggles were. I knew of them, but have never seen them. Come to find out, he had watched an episode a few months ago with Grammie, and he remembered!  So, I sat with him and we watched these grown up men, dressed in pirate suits for this particular episode, sing, dance, and play instruments. I was intrigued.

I despised them at first, because it meant that he had grown up in one single day. No longer did "Baby Animals at the Zoo" peek his interest. Those songs, fantasically sung by Vinko, Oboe, Frankie, and the rest, were being traded in for middle age men who used the "thumbs up" sign FAR too much (maybe it was just in this episode, but it was ridiculous).  It was annoying to watch it, paired with over dramatic facial expressions. I wanted to throw tomatoes at the screen. But then . . . they grew on me. I caught myself humming a tune today. That's how they do it - it's some kind of sci-fi experiment where they subliminally flood my brain until I relent.

So, the Wiggles it is. Jackson has his first rock band. He is obsessed. I will now turn the page and enter this next phase of media saturation, putting Thomas, Barney, and the animals (at the San Diego Zoo) to rest. Welcome to our family, middle age men who sing and dance. Though you are tad bit creepy, I think we will get along just fine.
     

Year 1, Day 356

Of all the days that Jackson would refuse to wear clothes.  It happened this morning - a jump start to our week together.The morning went along status quo, and when it came time to get him dressed (usually an easy task, I might add), Jack completely flipped his lid. He wanted NOTHING to do with clothing.  In a diaper, he ran around and hid in every corner imaginable, screaming in protest. Okay, so maybe he is sick of the frog shirt, or perhaps the pants are uncomfortably tight for him...but nope, he wanted NO clothing at all, despite a plethora of choices. He wanted to go to daycare in his diaper, and he was letting the whole condo know this at 6:15 in the morning.

So we did.

Well, almost. I threw a rain jacket on him after 20 minutes of fighting, twenty minutes of me sweating my a*s off struggling . . . I tried to make a game out of it, and then I tried EVERYTHING I could in the ol' repitiore. No dice. So, I swooped him down the stairs and into the car, buckled him up, and I dressed him. After pulling into daycare, I put on his shoes. It was not pretty.

Tonight, on the other hand was WONDERFUL. He greeted me at daycare with a huge hug, we laughed all the way home, and we played "stuck in the mud".  He runs from me and falls to the ground, and yells "I'm stuck in the mud!! Help Mama!!" so I run over and pull him out over dramatically of course. I have no idea where he came up with that one, but there aren't many words to describe how cute it is.  Good thing, with a morning like this morning, he better be cute!!

  

Year 1, Day 355

The last time Mike had to go away for an extended period of time on a work related junket, Jackson was about three months old. I remembered thinking how sad that was going to be, because he really "knew" Mike and would surely miss him. 

Now, that Jackson is almost two, it's pretty obvious to me that this work trip (to VEGAS) is going to be different for all of us.  Jack will definitely know, yet not understand why Daddy isn't going into work and coming home with us each day.  He'll wonder why he has to suffer through my very dull bath time, and boring books. He'll wonder where he is . . . but I'm sure he'll expect that "Daddy's golfing" which is what he says anytime his father is missing from daily activities. (Funny enough, Mike has golfed once this year, but Jack remembers!)

So, I won't tell Jackson that his daddy is headed to Sin City, and what stays in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Hopefully, he won't come home with another wife. But on the other hand, we could use the extra help. Here's a safe and deserved trip to Mike, and a *hopefully* uneventful and mundane week for us. Shall we all converge, on this sweet little place we call home, one week from today.

Year 1, Day 354

Tired. Half anticipating Mike leaving next week, and half just worn out. Actually, right about now, I am letting Jackson draw on his feet with crayons. There are worse things he could be doing I suppose. They are non toxic. I am exhausted.

He is feeling better - the temperature subsided, and little red blisters came out in his throat...typical of Hand, Foot, and Mouth disease - apparently it was running rampant in the petri dish I call "daycare." Regardless, he is markedly in better spirits. I, however, am lacking in spirit at the moment - though I assume an early bedtime might help that matter.

Hand, Foot, and Mouth disease sounds like a death sentence, but it's actually quite common and apparently it only lasts a few days. It started with a fever for a day and a half, and then he broke out with little red blisters in his mouth (it can be on the hands and feet as well, thus the name).  Though he hasn't been able to eat much of anything except popsicles, he's been drinking really well (the biggest problem is when children don't drink because it hurts too much).  Anyway, Jackson's a tropper. If I had Hand, Foot, and Mouth disease I think I'd call out of work for a few weeks and milk it. The name sounds awful, doesn't it? 
   

Year 1, Day 353

Today I discovered that Motrin and Tylenol cause incredible hyperactivity in Jackson.  Staying in a tiny space with him all day - wired - was quite eventful. We fingerpainted, built towers with Legos, read, and watched too much Barney. When that was done, he tried climbing tables, scaling couches, and flipping his chair over to use it as a climber.  When the medicine wore off, his fever did come back, but in the meantime he was FLYING.

So, we HAD to go outside for a bit. It was a beautiful day and he was anxious to have space.  We walked alot, investigating the ending signs of summer (burnt grass, cracked open acorns, lots of sticks that had fallen from summer storms).  Then, he discovered a small hill in the distance.  For what seemed like forever, we trotted up and down the hill.  He laughed hysterically shouting WHEEEEEE all the way down. And then, he'd run around in circles, followed by "ashes ashes" which is, of course, "Ring Around the Rosy."

When he had had enough, we took a seat on a bench by the sidewalk.  He was sitting next to me, as we watched the cars go by.  He must have been sick of me at this point - being with him all day, in his face, in a small space and then feeling the freedom of outdoors.  He looked over at me, got up from the bench, and tapped me on the leg. He politely asked me to "get up, Mama." When I asked why, he said, "I need space Mama."  And he sat at the other end of the bench squished in the corner.  He peered over at me with a wry smile, and said "that's better Mama. Thank you."

Year 1, Day 352

I cringe every time I get a call from day care mid day. My heart flops until they tell me, "Your son is okay, but  . . . he tripped and hurt his leg, he bumped his head, he got bit by someone, he is isn't feeling well.  Today, we got the call that he had a 103 temperature out of the blue.  Mike raced across the street to get him some Tylenol, while I left from work.  When Mike fist saw him, he was in his diaper, sitting on a chair with his teacher, and sucking a popsicle.  He was glassy eyed and shivering. It hurts my heart to even picture.

Of course, I flew through town, with some near miss car accidents, and made it to them. By the time I arrived, his fever had broken and he was playing with Legos. Mike had made a Lego creation, which Jack approved of . . . he said "that's cool Daddy." So, I knew he was better for the time being. 

Hopefully he is able to sleep tonight and feel better. Tomorrow, we are going to have a Mommy day.

Year 1, Day 351

I've been taking for granted how easy it is to communicate with Jack these days.  After finishing his cup of milk, he'll say "more milk please" instead of his past ways of communication when words weren't available. Those ways of letting me know his needs included, but were not limited to the following:  throwing the cup across the room, rapidly mixing up a million different sign language words (because his lame mother started teaching him to sign, but abandon plan mid way through), and dropping himself to the floor in protest.  Often, crying ensued until I could play mind reader, gather up all the clues, and come up with what he needed. I always felt like a magician, pulling a rabbit out of a hat.

Now, life is so much easier.  If he needs more milk, he asks.  If he wants a certain toy out of reach, he asks. If he can't find something, he tells me what he is looking for. Language, and inevitably communication - ahhh what a concept!

Of course, there is a downside to that . . . non stop talking.  But, I'm not complaining. I love to hear his little voice try to make words, sounds, and sentences.  Mike and I always wondered what his voice would sound like. It's downright adorable, especially when he says "I wuv you Mommy."        

Year 1, Day 350

I'm not a math person.  So, when this blog entry is Year 1, Day 350 I know that I went wrong somewhere.  According to simple counting, blog entry "Day 365" will fall on September 1st. How is this possible? I started this blog on September 3rd last year??

But alas, it doesn't matter much.  What does matter is that I have 17 days left until the end of this blog. At times, I am happy that it will be coming to an end, because it means that I have 30 minutes to an hour of my life, each night, that becomes open to me - the gift of time. But, as the day draws near, I am sad to end the blogging because it truly does, make me reflect each day . . .  on this true blessing in my life. Writing makes the difficult times easier to handle, and the happier times much more joyful.

As the last blogs come rolling out, I need to start making a plan to fill that half hour, each day, with something that makes me a better person all around. It could mean taking the thirty minutes each day and devoting it to mindless acts such as gazing at the stars, taking a walk, or listening to self help tapes. Or, I can get a bit more productive and plan on reading something new, cooking, or eating chocolate ice cream.

By the way, eating chocolate ice cream DOES make you a better mother because it releases serotonin and floods your brain with feel good chemicals, thus allowing you to endure things you'd otherwise throw yourself off a bridge for.

But, can I do it?  I mean, somehow, I've found time to blog for 350 consecutive days. But can I now take 30 minutes to MYSELF each day?  It doesn't sound like a lot to offer yourself, does it? Experience shows me that 30 minutes in a day IS difficult to come up with, and when it's about taking care of myself the excuses as to why it can wait already start flooding in...

So, I think about that next challenge. In 17 days, can I use this new found time wisely, and for myself . . .  

Year 1, Day 349

"HUGGA Mommy" or "HUGGA Daddy" is Jackson's word for a "car hug."  Car hugs happen often, upon request and more so, at random, when one of us is driving and obviously can't reach him for a big old squeeze.  Car hugs are when we reach back, as far as we can behind our seats, and hold on tight to the ticklish spot behind Jackson's knees.  They are always a highlight of a horrible commute, and an instant cause belly laughter.  But do you want to know what caused me to pee in my pants today?

Jackson blurted out from a dead silence "ALEJANDRO!!" on the way home today.  I didn't think we were big Lady Gaga fans, but apparently, he has picked up her new lyrics.  He rang out ALEJANDRO in perfect tune and cadence . . . and we just busted out laughing. The radio wasn't even on. Everyone laughed until we cried because we couldn't catch our breaths.  I suppose it's not that funny, as I write it now and it actually sounds a bit stupid in the re-telling . . . but, he is not even two, and it was SO completely random.  It made my day. I'm sure it's one of those "you had to be there" moments.

Year 1, Day 348

If there is one thing I learned from teaching a room full of preschoolers, it is that you have to abandon your set plans most of the time.  You have to be flexible.  So using this knowledge, when Jackson started despising bath time, we had to adjust quickly. For some reason, he wants nothing to do with a bath. I knew the day would come.  Soaking until he was pruned, playing with squirt toys, pouring water, and splashing bubbles are now a distant memory. We adjusted our routine, and Jackson now endures a 3 minute bath each night. It's enough time to get him wet, soaped up, and rinsed off.  Beyond that, he wants nothing to do with it.

Mike has discovered that he might be scared of the bubbles sliding down the side of the tub. I think he's also afraid of the water draining. Who knows?  With a toddler, it can all change in a minute.  I assume next week he'll be back in the bathing mood, and trade of for a fear of something else - like the kitty. We take it all in stride, and just remember that we have to be flexible, abandon most plans, and take it all as it comes - full force ahead. It's easier said than done most times, but it's a good reminder.  

Year 1, Day 347

Off to a wonderful evening to celebrate Jackson's Aunt Rachel and Uncle Chris.  Tonight is their Jack and Jill gathering, before the wedding.  Our little one will rest soundly at Nana's while we party the night away!  Best wishes to the happy couple, and shall this be just a start to the many happy days ahead when two families combine. Love to you both!

Year 1, Day 346

This morning, in the back seat of the car while clutching his Patsy, I heard the following song:

"Rock a bye Patsy, on a tee top. Whin the weend blow, the cadle will rock. Whin the bow bakes, the cadle will fall - UGHT OH Patsy!"

I asked if Patsy was okay.  He said "Patsy okay Mama. I sorry Patsy."

I wanted to pull over because I was having a cute fit and needed to kiss his cheeks off. But, there was no safe place to stop since I was on the Pike. He just comes out with these adorable thoughts at random, and they can change my day/mood in an instant. How can you hear that and not smile ear to ear?  And, that is what my blog was originally intended for - to record fleeting moments like these and make sure I capture them all. I hear that I'll need something like this to fall back on during the teen years - when he doesn't want to talk to me much or have anything to do with his mother. But . . . I think Jackson will be different, don't you? He'll always want me meddling in his life and recording every moment he breathes, won't he? Ha Ha Ha. I am such a helicopter mom already.

 

Year 1, Day 345

Do you want to see a full fledged temper tantrum?  All you have to do is buy your child a shopping cart with fake plastic food, and when he bangs it repeatedly on the kitchen floor, heeding none of your warnings, take it away.  It wasn't pretty last night.

But, when we all recovered, and we felt that it was safe for all parties (including the kitty) to re-introduce the cart, he caught onto the idea very quickly.  He was "going shopping" and BOY did he do just that.  Jack carefully placed the miniature milk and orange juice into the cart off of "the shelf" and walked around clutching his fake money tightly. "My money. Twenty dollars!" he repeated incessantly to Mike and myself.  I asked him if I could borrow some of his cash, but he wasn't in the sharing mood.

Jackson was truly obsessed with the fake icecream.  He looked at the box and tried to tear it open in a flash, as if ice cream heaven awaited. Once he saw the picture of the chocolate pops, and he heard me say "it's icecream", he just couldn't understand why there was nothing inside the 3 inches of folded cardboard. If he had eaten his dinner, I would have gotten him some real ice cream, but that was another tantrum last night.

Tantrums look like the following these days:  Jackson drops to the ground in a sitting position, feet flat out in front, and he just shrieks an unhuman sound.  Very loudly. It is a high picthed whine with no tears, but then rapid buckets of tears for added effect when you try to engage him. He is basically inconsolable, and unable to be distracted until he's ready. No amount of ignoring it, soothing him, diverting his attention, or engaging him will tame the beast. It's not pretty, but I suppose it could be worse.  I have pity on our neighbors. I have pity on myself sometimes too.

But it's only for a couple years, right? I mean the "tantrum phase" doesn't last forever. A person can deal with anything for a couple years...ha ha ha. Wish us luck!  

Year 1, Day 344

When Jackson gets to be of school age, I am sure that cell phones will be regarded in the same light as beepers.  They will be obsolete, and considered "old school."  The up and coming technology will far surpass what we can only dream of creating at this very moment.  There is something better out there beyond the IPad, Droid, etc. 

What happened to the notion of giving someone "undivided attention?"  It truly is a gift these days. The norm is to be sitting with a group of people, and carrying on multiple conversations simultaneously with people in different cities, countries, what have you. Jackson is being raised in this generation, and I have to be mindful.  It won't necessarily be a faux pas to have simultaneous interactions when he is of school age. I am certain we are moving toward a day when "undivided attention" is a lost art, and probably considered weak and old fashioned.

But I don't think it is.  There is something to be said for quality interactions - the ones that occur when you look a person in the eye and truly hear what she is saying.  Listening. It is something that people don't do enough of - a good listener is hard to come by these days. This, more than anything, reminds me to be fully in the present moment with Jackson - without a phone to my ear or fingers to a keyboard. That, in itself, the moments of undivided attention, are true gifts.

Year 1, Day 343

It's not all roses.  When you have a boy, things get smelly.  Jackson is OBSESSED with bodily functions at the moment.  This morning, he clearly announced "Mommy, I have to fart" while I changed his diaper.  Following that, he walked 10 steps away and called out "Mommy, I poop."  He did. After second diaper change in less than two minutes, he added insult to injury with the following proclamation: "Mommy, I burp" as he let out a huge milk belch, as though he'd been sitting watching football and drinking beers all afternoon.   

With the farting, pooping, and burping going around in our house, I think I need a female dog to balance out all the testosterone.  I am surrounded by 3 males - Mike, Miles, and Jackson. Yes, they are "my boys" and with that, comes a feeling of endearment and sweetness all in itself.  But once Jackson starts nose picking and lighting his farts on fire, I think I'll need some perfume and roses to balance it all out.  Better yet,  I'll just go on PetFinder, find myself a female golden retriever . . . and name her Petunia.

Year 1, Day 342

If I was given a penny for every time I heard: "Wow! Jackson is high energy! He is quite a boy!" I would be laying in piles of old Lincoln's.  Only by experiencing high energy, can one truly enjoy the down time. So, I embrace it.  He can kick a ball harder and further than I, he can basically swim if I'd just let him go, and he can beat my PR if he ran in a race tomorrow.  His energy astounds me.  I wonder what the heck he did before birth.  I mean, honestly, if he could sit in a sac of water for 9 months without moving, why can't he sit in a car seat for an hour without pitching a fit? I guess it's about being able to see the world in front of you, but not being able to interact with it being all strapped into a seat.

Jackson usually has his own routine in the morning, walking his toy dog down the hall, throwing balls around, watching a couple shows . . . so when he came into the bedroom and stood still at my feet, I was curious to know what was going on.  Jackson looked up at me, eyes wide and blue, and said "pretty mommy." Then, he touched my dress and said "that pretty."  I scooped that little bugger up right then and there (though he tried to free himself immediately) and I looked right into his little face . . .  "thank you. I love you". 

My lesson for the day:  no matter how busy Jackson appears to be, with high energy abounding him, he still notices the little things.  Little to him, but that comment was the biggest heart warmer I could think of hearing. If he only knew how much joy he brings us.

 

   

Year 1, Day 341

Jackson unlatched Grammie's door last week, and found himself on the porch.  When Grammie came running after him, he said "just lookin at the birdies."  Today, he climbed up on a storage box and turned off the light . . . and then crawled up on the couch, propped himself against the wall standing on tip toes and turned on the air conditioner. It was hot in here.

When we returned home this evening and I dumped out all the clean clothes, Jackson walked into his own room and closed the door.  He dumped out an entire sock box and sat on the floor in front of the mound.  He attempted to put the socks on - each and every one. Instead of getting frustrated when he couldn't get them over all his toes, he switched to trying on his shoes. 

It's amazing what he has learned to do for himself, and how persistent he is.  I know he doesn't get persistence from me. I usually give up pretty easily, and sulk for an hour or so, because I'm too proud to ask for help.  Luckily, he must have gotten the tenacity trait from his daddy's side. 

Year 1, Day 340

Jackson met his Great Aunts for the first time today!! Hi Aunt Patsy (aka Aunt Pat Pat) and Aunt Sharon (aka Aunt C) stood outside Nana's house with open arms.  Jack warmed up so easily, and within minutes of his arrival, he was throwing the ball and singing. It made me so happy to know that they were able to spend the weekend with him and meet him for the first time - it's been almost three years since they have been able to visit.  He made quite an impression.

He was the star of the show, just pulling out all the things that could make him the center of attention.  He sang his ABCs, counted, did numerous yoga positions, and basically repeated everything that he heard, the entire day.  He did not take a nap.  Yet, somehow, he was completely wound up and not tired, at all, for the night.
Energy - ohhhh it is wasted on the young. If I could have an ounce of what he has . . .

Year 1, Day 339

There is a picture of my sister, somewhere around age 5, screaming at the wind.  She was afraid of the wind and scared of the leaves falling. Thankfully, she grew out of that. Genetically however, she has passed on this family trait of being uneasy in inclement weather.  Jackson is petrified of rain.

Yesterday, the monkey and I were caught in a monsoon of a rainstorm.  Umbrellas were turning inside out, people ran for cover in soaked clothing, and the wind ripped through the city.  I had no choice but to carry him out the truck in the middle of it - partly because it wouldn't let up, and partly because I don't want him to be afraid of wind and leaves, and I thought I better just toughen him up now.  What better moment.  So I made it a game, and we ran through the sheets of the downpour - I laughing, he just blown away by what he was witnessing. But he was okay. Until . . . .

It clamored thunder and a crash of lightening came down.  I have to admit it freaked me out a bit too.  So, I quickly strapped him in the car seat and we drove away. Only, the rain POUNDED relentlessly on the truck and made a pretty awful noise.  From the car window, to a child that's never seen rain come down like this, it must have looked like people were running for their lives.  They were scampering for shelter, people were honking, driving like lunatics, and the sky had opened up. So, when Jackson said, "Mommy, Rain SCARY" I felt pretty awful about dragging him out in it. But not as bad as I felt later that night . . .

I was in a rush to make dinner because we had gotten home so late, and Mike was working.  I turned on SPROUT and flipped to KIPPER - I knew we had seen an episode in the past, and the show was completely child friendly, no violence - just a good hardy children's show that has a dog with an English accent.  A dog with an accent can't get himself in too much trouble, right? So, I went into the other room  and started dinner.

Within 5 minutes, Jackson came ripping around the corner yelling SCARED! SCARED!  and I looked at the television.  Kipper's friend was stuck in a rain storm and somehow caught himself on a windmill (he was going around and around and was obviously a slip away from his death). Oh lord.

So, I held him tight and we talked about rain for a VERY long time.

I'm glad to see that sunshine is in the forecast for the next week. Once again, I traumatized him and will pay for it later . . .  with the "couch time" he needs in his late twenties.   

Year 1, Day 338

Jackson found his belly button today. I'm sure he noticed it before, but today while we were getting him changed into his jammies, he asked "What THIS mommy?" and pinched his belly button (he has an outtie) and giggled until we fell over laughing.  I just scooped him up and gave him a big kiss (which he hates and makes no quams about telling me already (with body language) . . . adding insult by shouting "NO MOM!!"  as though he was a teenager and I was trying to kiss him goodbye at the bus stop.  I try reminding him that "MOM" is only allowed after puberty hits, and "MOMMY" is highly preferred and perfect for now, but he knows how to push my buttons. 

Speaking of pushing buttons, I have decided that "Do I need to get your daddy to help you?" works 100% of the time when struggling with Jack. If he won't sit in his car seat while I buckle him?  Call on the daddy threat.  If he won't let me put his shoes on in the morning?  Send in Daddy.  He is ABSOLUTELY the disciplinarian.  Not that I'm easy on him, but Jack responds to Mike's words a lot better than he does to me.  He's already got me wrapped around his finger. I think I need a parenting class.

Year 1, Day 337

There are some days when I just can't wake Jackson up in the morning, because my heart breaks from the thought of rousing him.  This morning was one of those times.  He still sleeps with his little bum in the air, and today, he was laying on a silky pillow, clutching it underneath him.  Moreover, he was "open mouth sleeping" which means that he was in complete dream land and just drooling everywhere.  I was Satan for waking him up, only to drag him out of bed, get him dressed, give him a bottle, force brush his hair and teeth, and rush him along like we were in a hurry. And we were, because traffic patterns demand that we leave by a certain minute of the morning, or we are completely late for everything . . . and so it goes.

It makes me sad to be in such a hurry all the time.  There are no better moments than vacation, when time doesn't matter and sleep is gauged by internal clocks and not an annoying buzzer.  I struggle with the pace we currently struggle to maintain.  Sometimes I think that living on a farm and being woken up by a rooster would be so much better for my quality of life. Heading out to feed a horse that needs hay or a cow that needs milking is more attractive to me than heading out to gridlock traffic and road rage honking . . . especially from people that haven't had coffee yet and are just bitter...

As hard as it was to wake Jackson up today, he of course, is resilient and not bitter.  The moment his eyes opened, he sat up and said "Choos choos with mama", so I guess we do have our own little routine, as crazy and hectic as it is sometimes in our house.  

Year 1, Day 336

Dear Jackson,

These are some things that I learned AFTER being your parent for 1 year and 336 days.  They are lessons that I, and your father, have figured out on the job, and couldn't have possibly predicted beforehand,  that we should have known.  These are the "opps! do better next time"  moments that we have everyday. Because, while I have a decent level of inherent parenting skills, I know that I am learning from you every moment that we are together. 

We really didn't need a thousand receiving blankets, clothing labeled "newborn" or 0-3 months, or a trillion baby rattles and teethers. In addition, and unbeknownst to us, anything that could be described as an "outfit" was not used until you were much much older than I had anticipated. I think I imagined that I was going to dress you up in a button down shirt, and khakis, and stroll you around until I secured your modeling contract. Reality: both of us were a soggy with soy formula and projectile vomit running down our shirts.

Soy formula smells atrocious. Just because you were a little congested a few times after drinking your formula, I shouldn't have assumed you were allergic to regular formula. That's what doctors are for. It would have saved me from gagging as I made every bottle.

Breastfeeding is not easy when your milk never comes in. If Giselle Bundchun wants to make it "law" for all mothers to breastfeed their babies, I would have been cuffed and stuffed. Screw her and her fairy tale life.

Sorry, that was an unecessary tirade, and clearly, knowledge that Jackson doesn't need to know about when he gets older . . . moving on . . .

Just because you were strapped, snuggly and tight, in a car seat/carrier didn't mean you couldn't fall from a bench. I'm sorry for that one. Note to self:  the tag on the car seat warns over-tired mothers not to prop the seat on standing objects. Don't mock the warning - yes, you are a dumb ass if you do this, because it's common sense, but here's a reminder:  mother's of babies lose ALL common sense immediately after birth. Considered yourself warned.

Your head is like concrete.  You have bumped, bruised, banged, and ran into so many things with your little noggin.  You allowed me to get over my fear that children are fragile. In fact, you are more resilient than any child I've known. I have learned to take your trips and falls in stride. Knowing that the majority of your mishaps are easily fixed with a boo boo bunny and a kiss/hug from mama, makes it easier to swallow.

to be continued . . .

Year 1, Day 335

These are the moments in time that brighten my day:

When Jackson serenades us with the alphabet and slurs together "lmnop." It's hard to articulate how cute it is to listen to. He could sing the ABC's from sunrise to sunset, and I'd think it's adorable every time.

I love when he accidentally bumps into one of us and says "I sorry Daddy" and then tries to hug or rub the boo boo away. 

This evening, he grabbed a recycle bag and headed out to "go shopping."  I am training him well.  I also make sure he sees his daddy doing dishes and vacuuming. It's good for him. He also sees me taking out the trash and scooping litter in a dress.

I love when we arrive home, after a long day, and Jack runs for the kitty. Instead of tormenting him, which he could easily do, he lays on his belly and gives him kisses.  This lasts until Miles releases his claws. At which point, Jackson pulls on his tail, chases him, and the fun begins.


  

Year 1, Day 334

Grandmothers have the obligation to lie sometimes.  It should be an unwritten rule of motherhood. A white lie should ABSOLUTLEY be delivered under the following circumstance: when grandma is babysitting, and her daughter calls to ask "does he (my child) miss me?"

Of course the answer is a resounding "yes dear.". The answer should not be: "Oh no, he was so busy . . . the only time he even mentioned you was when we pulled back the curtain this morning and saw your truck outside.  He asked "where's mama?" and "where's daddy?"  . . . but even my quick answer of "shopping and golfing" distracted him right away and we were off to playing again . . . "  I have to laugh though.  It's the way it's always been, and it's such to tribute to Nana and Grammie for being the wonderful grandmothers they are to him. He would rather hang with them any day of the week. And, that is what being a grandmother is all about. Spoil them rotten, and send them home. They deserve every moment.   
  

Year 1, Day 333

Michael and I have are looking forward to a road trip in a few minutes.  We are headed to Vermont to spend time with Chris and Rachel, working on wedding plans and enjoying a night without wake ups from a kitty, or an early morning cry from the little one.  I am ready for some R&R for the rest of the weekend . . . thanks of course, to Nana, Sha, and Grammie for watching Jackson!  After a few goodbye kisses, a couple obsessive phone calls, and a few glasses of wine (or tequila)  I should be good to go.
Thank you family. I am in need of this weekend.
 

Year 1, Day 332

When Jack was a wee little baby, I would take him shopping in the stroller very often.  I figured that repeated exposure would make it easier for me, down the line, when I had to take him as a toddler.  Here's what I learned today:  Toddlers don't like clothes shopping, especially not when it's for other people.  I needed earrings for a wedding and Jackson was NOT on board with that venture. I can't blame him, but the lesson here is that previous encounters meant to dull the painfulness of the shopping experience later in life are useless.   

So, I tried bargaining with him.  On the way to the mall, I asked him what he wanted.  I know, it was an open ended question that could have yielded MANY answers like "a horse, giraffee, a bucket loader."  But, here are the answers  I got  . . . pondering, almost with his index finger to his mouth in a thoughtful gesture, he answered "Ummm...nuggets?" I said, nawww - anything else?  "Ummm chocolate milk?" Nope, try again . . . "Ummm pizza?" He went on asking for every bit of junk food under the sun.  Once we settled on a chocolate muchkin, I strapped him in the "buggy" and shopped away. Until of course, he had a major meltdown after realizing he had be duped . . . my mother jumped in and saved me by amusing him in a three way mirror for 15 minutes while I finished my shopping. Note to self: if I ever open a shopping plaza, in this life or next, I will CLEARLY include fun houses with crazy warped mirrors and shaky bridges at the corners of each store...precisely for amusement of children. And, for the ability for mother's to shop 1 minute and 37 seconds in peace.

Year 1, Day 331

To add insult to injury yesterday, the afternoon ended with a flat tire - precluding me from leaving work early on a day that I was officially released by my boss and told to "enjoy the afternoon."  Instead, I waited in the 100 degree parking lot for AAA to arrive.  My wonderful husband, bags overflowing in hands, schlepped our son to the train, because he is at that age where he is unable to walk such a long distance, and the stroller, of course, was in our disabled vehicle. On a mission to meet me at work, they packed themselves into the HOT train like sardines. No one would give up a seat to Jackson, so Mike held him tight, until his arm broke off.  As if it wasn't bad enough, the train they were riding immediately stopped service and everyone was forced to push their way out at the next stop . . . no rhyme or reason, but just another opportunity to fight for another seat on a packed train.  If it wasn't for Jackson reaching up to Mike's cheeks, smooshing his face together and giving him a big smacker, I'm sure Mike would have lost it at that point. But they carried on . . .

They reached my work, where I was struggling to find all the necessary implements needed to change this tire.  AAA needed our "key" that we supposedly had, in order to release the spare tire from the under carriage.  He also needed specific gadgets that were made to unlock the actual tire off our specific truck . . . they were somewhere in the vehicle. I wondered where? Why does changing a tire have to be so difficult?
A call to Nissan, a flood of transfers to other people, and I finally found my answer: these implements were hidden in a secret compartment under the back seat. You can only reach by lifting the seat at a 27 degree angle, forcing your hand into a crevice  and MacGyvering your way to the locked up space. Thanks Nissan.

Tire changed, and an adventure later, we were on our way home - Jackson was a tropper.  A day like that calls for an "early bedtime." The three of us pulled the sheets over our heads by 7:30 last night.  Goodnight world.

     

 

Year 1, Day 330

Here is my life. Seriously.

Yesterday, a colleague and I had a wonderful conversation.  On her way out of my office, she nicely added "you look like you've lost some weight. You look great!" I smiled, thanked her, and patted myself on the back for the string of gym visits and the long walks that I've been taking with Jack lately. I also thought about those chocolate Frosty's that I've declined, the baked treats at 3pm that I've past up, and my miraculous feat/accomplishment of eating only 2 pieces of pizza the other day instead of gorging and throwing in a side of wings.  Of course, this is all in an effort to lose those last pounds of baby weight 2 years later. For the rest of the day, I was workin' it.   Feeling saucy and even a little *hot* in my summer dress and black wedges, I was proud of myself for sweatin' it out at the gym, and so excited that people were actually seeing results of all that hard work.  And then, I arrived at my job today.

I was greeted by another colleague, walking up the stairs to my office.

"Are you having a baby?" she asked.

Seriously. My life.

Year 1, Day 329

Jackson reminded me of so many memories from when he was a "little baby" today.  Walking with him in the stroller tonight, he laughed hysterically at the sight of the tickle tree in the distance.  He called out for it, and when we got near enough to it's soft, long needles, he yelled "Ive GOT YOU! Tickle tickle tickle!"  It's amazing how he even remembered that tree.  It's a reminder that those things you do when they are young, are not in vain.  They store those experiences and it really does shape them, doesn't it?

We also watched a baby animals episode that I would rock him to sleep with, when he was just a little baby and I was still on maternity leave.  It's amazing - the rush of feeling that the background music on that episode caused me.  Hearing those songs that we sang to him, and watching those animals together - it just all brought back the feelings of what life was like at that special time.  It's a fleeting time, when things were so wonderfully simple, yet absolutely unpredictable.  Would you close your eyes to sleep and get 3 hours of shut eye, or would you be awakened at your next breath?  Those were things I had forgotten...they are moments you put to rest (until the next comes along). And then, you must wonder - how did I forget this part?? It's the selective memory of a mother. Sure, childbirth wasn't so bad, was it?? I could do it again.

Year 1, Day 328

Jackson had a remarkable Monday, and I have to assume that he is feeling good and that his ears aren't bothering him.  According to daycare, he ate well for breakfast, lunch, and snack, and played until his heart's content (even in the absence of Ella).  On our ever dreaded car ride home, he was eerily calm and occupied.  For dinner, the bottomless pit scarfed a grilled cheese, blueberries, tomatoes, and a popsicle. It's like feast or famine at our house. 

His behavior reminds me that children reflect and absorb the energy surrounding them at a great level, so if I am frantic and stressed over a Monday, I always sense that he picks up on that as well.  This morning, I made a concious decision, before getting out of bed, about how I was going to approach the day. I find that when I take extra time, throw in spontaneous moments, and cut back on my expectations, we are all a lot happier.  Jackson tends to go with the flow a lot more, and we are generally a more relaxed family.  I'm sure that Jackson's good day was attributed to many components, including his ears rid of fluid, generally feeling healthy, waking well rested, and not living through a current growth spurt or a teething episode. But, it also reminds me how much my attitude and my energy effect him as well.  Happy Monday! Shall the rest of the week be so good!     

Year 1, Day 327

Like most toddlers, Jackson has always had an interest in phones. For his first Christmas, his Nana bought him the toy rotary phone, very similar to the one I had growing up.  The next gift he opened, funny enough, was  an Elmo cell phone from his Aunt.  My mother dated herself that morning.

Although he has always had an interest in phones as shiny gadgets, it wasn't really until this afternoon that he truly had his first conversation on one.  I was in the front seat of the truck and Nana called.  Jackson made his normal response to the ring: "HIIIII!! HELLLLOO!" and when I told him it was Nana, he cried for the phone.  I handed it over, fully expecting that he'd push a million buttons and hang up on her like always.  but today, he listened.  He listened for a long time and laughed.  He said "I love you Nana. I miss you" and repeated lots of things she said.  He answered a few of her questions with a distinct "YES".  It was his first lengthy phone conversation.


This weekend, more than any other point so far, I feel as though Jackson is able to process and respond to things quickly - to actually communicate.  It's an amazing thing to witness when you have spent so many months of his life guessing and trying to anticipate his needs. Before bed, I asked him about his day and the giraffe he saw at the zoo with Grammie and Daddy.  He said he saw "Geoffrey" and "gave him banana" which he did.  He made motion like it tickled his hand. And, afterwards, he continued to point out the giraffees that decorate his room.  This instance marked the first articulated memory of an event - being able to communicate something he did and recall details . . . I'm just not ready for that much growing up yet. Where'd my little baby go?


    

Year 1, Day 326

Jackson had his first "report card" issued from the toddler room this week.  The happy mother I am, I proudly displayed it on the refrigerator.  This weekend, I brought it to Nana's and Grammie's so that he could benefit from some extra spoiling. Why let all that hard work go to waste?

Of course, like all progress reports, there are areas that can always be improved and focused even when you are one and 22 months, right? Surely, eating a crayon or two, having to be reminded to use a fork, and being guided to use "walking feet" instead of running rampant, is perfectly age appropriate.  I found one comment for needed progress, in particular, that had me busted out laughing:
  
When his friends are sad, Jackson tends to over hug. In other words, his friends ask for "space" and he continues to hug until they stop crying (Ella, in particular, of course).  I always hoped I would raise a child who is kind, caring, and empathetic. To know that he hugs SO much that he has to be written up over it, just melts my heart. Now, if only he would not use all those hugs up at daycare, and save some for his Mama! 

Year 1, Day 325

Q:  When does a  doctor's waiting room become a haven of peaceful solitude? 

A.  When you a mother. (Unless, of course, your child accompanies you to the appointment). 

But, this day, Jackson was home with Daddy. So, I arrived at the office promptly, or shall I say my normal "20 minutes" early. I sat in a cozy chair, secluded in a quiet corner, and read anything that didn't include emergency vehicles, zoo animals, and colors and shapes. I was on vacation, before they called my name.  I did not complain one iota of the wait.  There were no lunches to be made, spills to be cleaned, clothes to be washed, mouths to be fed, or boo boos to be kissed.   There were no choo choos in the background . . . just silence.   It was an hour of pure bliss. I caught up on Newsweek, People, and even some smutty trash on the lastest celebs.  Count me in on "being in the know" as I now have the latest gossip on Lohan's jail stint, Sherrod's accidental firing, and the actual weather forcast for an extended period of time: even in other cities that I will never visit. ever.

And, I am a better mother for this hour.  So, why do we wait until we are forced to have this time? A time when we literally have nothing else we can possibly do except sit and wait?  Because we are mothers and rarely take those moments for ourselves. Let this be a reminder to me, and to all the moms that think  life can't possibly go on if they are not present 100% of the time. Take *GASP* a half hour a day to do something without feeling guilty. It's a half hour for god's sake. There are 48 of them in one day. You deserve 1/48th of your daily life, don't you? 


 

Year 1, Day 324

Jackson is clever.  Today, he just didn't want to nap, and so the excuses came rolling out when I made the announcement that we headed to sleep for a bit . . . in a flash, he ran to the book pile and grabbed multiples, balancing them in his arms and scooting himself up on the couch. "Books Mommy."  Of course, I conceeded on a few books because I am a sucker and can't say no when he puts that bottom lip out. After a few, I walked him to his room reminding him that his friends were waiting, and they were tired. 

In the crib, his little voice asked "Mommy rub back."  So, of course, I rubbed his back for a bit and then said my goodbye.  In a hurry, before I left his side, he shot back up and said "got to pee Mommy."  Well, he has yet to formally pee in a potty, so I'm not sure where that one was going, but I think he was pulling out all the tricks to delay nap. He was hoping his announcement would make me jolt him out the crib and into the bathroom. Not today. So, I smiled, pointed to his diaper, and said goodnight.

In such a pitiful voice, he said "Mommy - you do Piggy's go home."

We chuckled and sent our little piggies to the market and alllll the way home, and he's been sleeping ever since! A good, solid, three hour nap. Sometimes when you fight something (like sleep), you realize that's what you needed most! 

Year 1, Day 323

Today, Jackson had tubes put in his ears for the second time in young life. Of course, I was a wreck. He was not.  That shouldn't have surprised me . . . he's brave. That's something that I learned about him today.

It must have been scary to be surrounded by overly enthusiastic nurses in blue scrubs with bubble hats on their heads. It had to be scary, from his point of view, to see all the strange equipment, the bustling people, the sterile smells, and the unfamiliar sounds in the hallways. These things didn't rattle him though.  At most, he whimpered when they tried to get a weight or a pulse on him. After that, he was a rock.

I can only hope that this is the end of the ear infections for this poor little guy. I am glad today is over and all is well.

Year 1, Day 322

On the way to bed last night, Jackson made a beeline for our bed.  "Wanna sleep on MY bed" he said.  After some clarification that the cozy crib, lined with all his friends, is HIS bed, he still bounced over, climbed up, and rested his head on the oversized pillow. It was at that point that I realized what he was doing.

Carrying on a Grammie tradition from the Cape last week, he wanted to snuggle and listen to some songs and "just talk".  So we did.  We cozied up to eachother, I sang horrendously out of tune, and he obliged.  There was a certain point in which he actually crawled and laid parallel on me, just resting his head in the crook of my neck.  It was a wonderfully sweet moment.  Somehow I managed to rock him as I sang, and he drifted off, enough to twitch himself awake a few times.  Readjusting, he finally realized he was missing Patsy. "Where'd my friends go?" he said in a pitifully sweet voice.  So, I gently brought him into his room, lowered him into the crib, and surrounded him with his friends.

As if last night hadn't made up for the recent meltdowns and any tantrums over the past few weeks, but the morning, he offered me another little slice of heaven . . . .

On the way into work, he was chatting away about things I couldn't decipher.  All of a sudden, he said "Mommy, I can do it. I do it. I dooooo it."  Immediately following, he started counting very slowly and with great intention: 1,2,3,4,5. Miraculous to think that this BABY can count!? To me, he is still such a baby. He will always be my little baby. These are the moments . . . these are the moments that ARE the big things.

Year 1, Day 321

"MINE!! MINE!! MINE!!" and "DON'T" are Jackson's favorite words these days, largely surpassing "BIG WHEELS" and "TRUCK" by a mile.  We noticed his desire to collect and possess all items within arms reach while on vacation last week. This morning, it got a bit ridiculous . . .

Trying to lift him from the crib, he refused to leave until we had every friend in hand.

"Here Mommy, you take Rocky . . . I have Patsy (one, two Patsy's) . . . you take blankie . . . you take Leego . . . I have pillow . . . here Mommy, you take [the sheets off the bed and carry them in your mouth, because I need EVERYTHING surrounding me, and you have no hands left].

Jackson can hold more things than an octopus.  He shoves two friends under each arm, clenches two random items (like his hairbrush or a block) in each hand, and carries Patsy between his front teeth. It's hilarious and concerning at the same time. According to articles on child development, his hoarding and selfish behavior is completely in line for this stage of toddlerhood.  In fact, toddlers can't learn how to "share" until about 3 years old. YIPPEE skippy!! One more year of this!? I am teaching my son to share TODAY. I feel like he's empathetic.  He gives Ella toys to comfort her when she cries.  On our trip this past week, he came up to me and said "It's okay Mommy" as I sat on the floor and looked forlorn after a massive meltdown of his. Empathy has to be the first step of learning to share, right?  How do I not know this stuff for goodness sake - I was an early childhood major.  Did I not retain anything?  When it's your child and not a textbook, it's a whhhole different story!

Year 1, Day 320

We are pretty lucky to be raising a child in this day in age.  If you are stumped and just don't know an answer to something - GOOGLE away. Frantically, we typed in the following this morning:   "remove crayon from wall."

I turned my head for only a second . . . isn't that what we all say? Jackson had grabbed the cheap Target crayons and drew a beautiful picture all over the lightest wall in the house this morning.  Note to self:  buy washable crayons - for the love of god, they exist for such a reason.  And also, stock up on Magic Eraser because apparently it works wonders according to the Google responses. Alas, we didn't have Magic Eraser, so we attempted a tried and true "old school" method that our previous generation relied on (although they probably coupled it with an old fashioned spanking to boot).

Mike used a hairdryer to melt the wax . . . then, he wiped it with a warm dishcloth and detergent. Magnificent. It's mostly gone. It's almost as gone as the bowl full of chili that landed on our carpet last night. Oh well, if I've learned anything, it's that life is pretty dirty with a toddler! 

Year 1, Day 319

When we arrived home from vacation today, it was like Christmas.  Jack looked at all his toys in amazement, as though for the first time.  A week away from anything, and I guess the heart grows fonder. This afternoon, we played with things that I even forgot we had. It reminded me of how much "stuff" we've acquired, and how it might be nice to store some away in a closet for a bit and trade out new things every now and then.  If we only had closet space . . .

I spent some time this afternoon, packing up 18 months clothes and winter clothes that he'll never wear again.  It's funny how folding clothes and storing them away can bring a tear to my eye.  Those little jeans that fell off his hips and had to be cuffed at the bottom are now too small . . . that easter outfit (suit, tie, and dress shoes) . . . like a certain song, an outfit brings all these memories back. 

I folded and put away onesies today. I remember protesting before he was born, about how I would never have my child wear onesies because they are just a pain to button, and I couldn't see the benefit of a bodysuit.  I was wrong. They were priceless. He wore them alot (until 12 -18 months or so), and while they were difficult to button, they were FAR easier then trying to keep a shirt tucked into pants on a boy that crawls, climbs, jumps, and out manuvers me everyday.

Year 1, Day 318

And today is the end of summer vacation for us. No more beaches, puppy sightings, long walks, fried seafood,  gift shops. It's the end of "playing rocks" as Jackson calls it, and saying goodnight to everything in our neighborhood, including his last ditch effort to shoo all the bugs away from the screen house.

We were so blessed to have these beach vacations from both our mother's this year.  Jackson had so much time with both aunts, uncles, and grammie and nana.  I hope that he captured some of these as early memories from this week . . .

playing rocks . . . searching and chasing seagulls . . . hating and loving the sand . . . finding hermit crabs with Simon . . . running the truck in the water . . . throwing toys into the dunes from our porch . . . trying rice for the first time . . . favorite saying "look at those big wheels" . . . "uncle" Rachel . . . giving Aunt Rach a huge smacker . . . waking up with Grammie . . . flying a kite with Uncle Chris . . . pulling the rubber "hairs" off limey the tickle ball . . . accepting a huge round of applause after eating ANYTHING . . .  

Year 1, Day 317

What could be more therapeutic and serene than walking on the shoreline, early in the morning, when the rest of the world is sleeping?  Jackson and I tiptoed out this morning, bright and early, an made our way to the beach.  Milk in sippy cup, ball in hand, we danced in the tide pools, searched for sea glass, picked up snails, and threw rocks.  We threw many rocks.  It was nice to NOT have to say "Jackson, don't throw rocks" in fear of socking a passerby in the mouth.  Instead, we found the biggest ones we could and hurled them into the water. Which ones make the greatest splash? Oh yes, whoa, does that taste salty monkey?? Yes, we had lots of experimenting going on . . . the sights, smells, and sounds all merged into one blissful morning.  I couldn't have asked for a better start. If only every morning, before work, we could stroll the beach, run, and play . . . all before the world wakes and when the hustle and bustle begins.  Ohhhh vacation. This is the way life should be.

Year 1, Day 316

Dear Jackson,

Vacations are a tough time for little ones like you, because you are out of your element and routine.  I understand that, and completely give you a free pass for this week. When we experience the tantrums and get through them, it makes the sweet moments even more precious.  For instance, the fallout in Wendy's (when I caved and bought you nuggets today), was quite a scene when you dropped to the floor in a hot mess, merely because someone said hello to your friend "Rocky" cradled in your arms. But, moments later, when we got in the car and you belly laughed at the french fry eating seagulls outside the window, it warmed my heart.

When you ripped a wooden trivet off the wall and started whacking the television with it, you were pretty stunned and cried hysterically when we all called you out on it.  After letting you get over that meltdown, you ran up to me with your crocodile tears, your curly hair from the humidity, and called for ups ups.  How can I deny up ups?  Your sweet moments outweigh the atrocious temper tantrums. I love you baby. And, when I said that to you this morning, bleary eyed and half asleep, you responded "I love you baby."  

 

Year 1, Day 315

A hot day on the beach, and a cranky one, to add insult to injury.  Jackson really didn't want much to do with digging, playing in the water, or entertaining anything beach related for that matter.  Of course, he settled in a few minutes before I was ready to pack him up and call it a day. Isn't that always the case?

I brought him back up the house shortly after, craving inner peace, a little coolness, and some "reading" time while he napped. I haven't read a book, for pleasure, in 1 year and 315 days. I was excited to have some moments alone to recuperate and breathe. I settled him down, got him cool and cozy in his pack and play, and left the room.  Sweat dripping down me, I aimed all the fans at the couch, cracked open a Sam Summer and put my feet up (something I don't do unless I'm sleeping).  I read the first sentence of my book, and from down the hallway, I heard a giggle with a maniacle twist to it, so I rushed in . . .

Only to see my son, standing in the middle of his pack and play, naked as the day he was born.  Holding his diaper and one hand and peeing like a hose all over patsy, leego, and giraffe. His bedding needed to be stripped, his friends needed to be washed, and he needed a good talking to. I cried a little because I was HOT, cranky, and saw the golden ticket of nap freedom looming on the horizon, but it all dashed away in an instant. There go my moments of peace and solitude. Perhaps I can get to the second sentence of the book tomorrow.

Year 1, Day 314

It is IMPOSSIBLE to capture a picture of Jackson these days.  You literally have to sit in front of him and just snap a million pictures to get a decent one.  He is in constant motion, and he always seems to have a aversion to looking in the camera.  You basically have to surprise him, and catching a smile takes great skill.

This morning, he woke up around 7 and I heard him in the other room.  He was talking softly, so I assumed he was having a conversation with giraffe, leego, and patsy.  When I opened the door, he was laying in Grammie's bed, snuggled up to her and chatting. It's not a sight I've ever seen, because he's usually in motion, until he's watching choo choos, strapped in a car seat, or buckled into a high chair.  But he was just laying there, perfectly still, talking about the objects around the room.  Blearly eyed, I grabbed a camera, and hoped I could catch a picture of this sweet moment.  I knew I'd have to sneak up and surprise him.  As soon as I got close enough for him to see me, to my surprise, he shouted "CHEESE!!!" and looked right at me. We all busted out laughing. It was quite a way to start a morning. 

Year 1, Day 313

Today was a complete turn around with regard to Jackson and the ocean. Thank goodness. By the end of the day, he was pushing along his toy cart and saying "beach! beach!" because he DID want to take a third trip down the water at sunset.  There were a few reasons for this transformation.

Uncle Chris decided, in the morning, that we would refer to the ocean as Jackson's "sandbox" in order to get him there without panic So, we made our way down with sand toys and let him explore at his own pace. The tide was up, so it looked completely different from the day before.  The water lapped up on the shore, and seaweed collected at the edge.

Jackson spent the morning tossing rocks in the water, chucking seaweed in the waves, and then tip toeing in, ever so carefully, until FINALLY, he ran in!  The waves chased him back to shore and he laughed in delight.  Of course, then the storm clouds rolled in and we had to end the fun abruptly . . . but not before, he chased Mike and I around in the water, plopped himself in the surf, and laughed hysterically over the waves and the seaweed tickling his feet.

In the afternoon, of course, he made friends with a boy named Simon that was showing off his hermit crabs and recently captured snails.  So, that made the afternoon trip to the beach fun as well.  All in all, a very productive beach day filled with smiles, a few meltdowns, and one good nap.


 

Year 1, Day 312

I always worry about Jackson not eating well, or subsisting on his blackberry and icecream diet, especially when on vacation like this.  But tonight, when he refused much of anything, I learned something from my mother in law, that settled my mind.  She said that Michael use to be the same way.  He was constantly too busy to stop and eat and basically, she'd have to put his toys away and get rid of the distractions for him to actually realize he was hungry.  She said that after doing that, Michael would eat like a horse.  

And she was right.  Tonight, we couldn't get him to sit and eat dinner with so much in his new surroundings to explore.  It wasn't until all distraction was away, when she sat quietly with him on the couch, put on his CHOO CHOOs, that he wolfed down a bowl of pasta, blackberries, cheese, tomatoes, and a popsicle.

I write about this, because it's a reminder to myself to be flexible.  Yes, it's optimal to have dinner at the table with your child as much as possible, but there are times (and even long stretches on time) when it just might not work.  Instead of forcing it, and ending up with thrown food, crankiness, and a frustrated mom, it's best to abort mission and take his lead. Does he want television, a picnic, or does he want to stand on one leg and eat a blackberry while he sings Happy Birthday?  Sometimes we have to get creative.  Being rigid, especially on vacation is a recipe for disaster.  Yes, children will eat when they are hungry, but it does help to meet halfway sometimes . . . and, to just throw in the towel at times as well.

Year 1, Day 311

I'm not going to lie and say the drop off was easy today. Or, for that matter, that the morning was much of a joy either.  Plain and simply:  Jackson woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

I'll skip over the "getting ready" part at home, because I haven't really processed the nightmare that happened while trying to get him out the door, so instead, I will focus on the drop off . . .

terror.

Of course we were late. We were behind 3 families who had arrived at daycare. Jackson wiggled himself free and tore into the hallway, straight for the fish.  Ella was already standing there, sweetly admiring the fish and taking in the serenity. Jackson screamed hysterically in excitement and banged on the glass.  Reprimanded by the daycare director, he was told to keep his hands to his body, because my words obviously weren't doing a thing to stop him . . . and Jackson, "where is that inside voice??" she reminded him. So, I tried to corrall him into the room, mortified.  But, he threw himself on the floor in protest. Peeling him off the floor, we finally made it inside. 

He ran for the sandbox, as we waited in line for a diaper change.  He was the only one wearing his pajamas. WHY?? Not because I am the reject mom and can't get my act together, but because it clearly states that it is PJ day.  Why is no one else wearing pajamas? Did I get the wrong day?  The director calls us out on his attire. I point to the wipe board message that the teachers had posted regarding pajama day. Apparently, no one else read the sign or remembered, so Jackson was now the odd one out in jammies. 

I thought I'd try to get him excited for a diaper change by redirecting him to a shovel he could use in the sand table after wards. Note to self: shovels, even on a good day, are not proper distraction objects. Screaming on the floor in a hot mess, he wanted ALL the shovels. MINE!!! He was already bawling, so I figured it best to just scoop him up and change his diaper at lightening speed. I did. A book distracted him enough to change it, but FORGET about the sunscreen application.  Once he started flinging water all over the bathroom, with the shovels, I did everything I could to get him out of that space before wegot thrown out for disorderly conduct. 

He needed a moment to recouperate and I needed a moment of peace . . . to remember that this behavior is not common, and that I really do have a sweet angelic child that I adore and love. So we found a quiet space, read a few books, and talked about how I was going to pick him up early today and why.  "Vacation?" he repeated. YUP. We are off for a week at the beach and BOY do I need some R&R!  

Year 1, Day 310

I always wondered if I would eventually recognize my child's cries and be able to decipher them. I never found that Jackson had much variation with regard to his infant cries.  Basically, we were left to fend for ourselves and figure out what he needed on most occasions. But, as he gets older, I realize that he does have vastly different cries now. And, more importantly, that I actually do have the ability to decipher them. 

It was about 5:50am, his normal wake up time, and I heard a cry that I didn't recognize as normal. It was a high pitched cry, and strangely different from his, "I can't believe you are waking me up at this ungodly hour" cry.  So, I rushed in, only to see that somehow he had contorted his body sideways and managed to wedge his foot between the crib slats.  It took some manuevering to free him, but he was okay (as indicated by his immediate desire to watch "choo choos" and sit on my lap.)

I've seen him bump his head (countless times), fall, trip, slam into things, wipe out on cement, and walk into corners of walls, and it never gets easier to take as a mother. Whenever I hear his cry or scream from pain, a deep seeded feeling arises. One that makes me feel as though I am the one hurting FOR him. Until having Jack, I didn't know what that was like to truly be empathetic . . . I always felt like I had a strong sense of feeling for other people, but in retrospect, that was sympathy. Empathy is something you feel in the depths of your soul . . .

Year 1, Day 309

How many times have I washed Jackson's winter fleece hat and set it aside in a bag to pack away, for good? Many. Last night, he found it . . . again.  But this time, it was different.  Not only did Jackson find his winter fleece hat, but he immediately put it on his head, secured the velcro, and joyfully shouted "I FOUND IT!! MY FAVORITE HAT!!"

How does he know what a FAVORITE anything is?? He does. Clearly, this hat is strongly desired above all. 

He even ran over to his fireman hat, as if to compare. There were no comparisons. His fleece hat, in record breaking heat, was what he wanted and what he had longed for apparently.  I thought he was enjoying the Red Sox caps, and the Chatham hat with the super cute whale adorning the front. But apparently, those are too dorky. So fleecy, it is. Only inside of course.  DSS would have my A** for overdressing my son in record heat, so we just keep this behind closed doors. 

I tried to trick him into liking a hat that I bought him. I told him that it was Daddy's hat, and that he could wear it. I thought for sure he would take the bait. Nope. Made of the cutest sofest gray material, so cool and perfect for summer, it now sits on Jackson's dresser just waiting to be worn. Every day, becoming smaller and smaller as his blonde curls get thicker . . .  and all of a sudden . . . it will no longer fit. But fleecy will always fit. And, when that day arrives when he doesn't, I'm sure he will become a hat for "Tob Topper" (Jackson recently renamed his bear, formally known as bear.)  We love Tob Topper.  It shall be a fine hat for him.

 

Year 1, Day 308

This morning, at drop off, Jackson gave Ella a great big shove when she arrived to join him at the train table. Far from the kisses he's showered upon her in the past, he flipped right out on his girlfriend. Luckily I was there to diffuse the situation to apologize to her mother, mortified.  Toddlers will be toddlers without the necessary words available to them . . . Jackson just wanted to keep the train that Ella had her eyes on.  She just wanted to share, and he wanted no part of that.  Maybe he needs a sibling. Quickly.

I've seen Jackson give his share of pushes and shoves here and there - sometimes in self defense, and sometimes out of desire to claim a toy. He's also been the recipient of many a pushes int he classroom. Luckily the one he bestowed on his beloved Ella this morning was just a whimpy little "don't touch my train" push, but nonetheless, he hit a girl. So it was time for a lesson.

He wouldn't apologize, as I have heard him do in the past, so it wasn't an outrageous request.  In a last ditch effort to reconcile, I said to Jackson "Give Ella a hug then."  He dropped the train, ran over to her, and hugged her tightly.  That did it - they were best friends again.

On the way home today, he said "Ella to the beach. Jack to the beach."  I think he wants to invite her. That's a good make up gift.

Year 1, Day 307

Quiet moments of observation . . . these are the times that I see the most precious things I want to capture for Jack.  This morning, Jackson was going about his day, busy as a bee, while I paid a few bills online.  In the same room, he was opening a box, adding things inside and then closing the box. He had forgotten that I was there.  In the faintest of voices, I heard him sing "happy birthday to you" over and over.  Because he can't pronouce all the words, it might have been the most heart warming thing I've ever heard.  Funny enough, we were celebrating his auntie Sha's birthday in a few hours, so I'm sure he had overheard all the "party" talk.  As far as knowing the birthday song so extensively, he must have learned from often in daycare, but putting that together and making a "present" with the box . . . it was just the sweetest and most precious thing to watch.

Later this evening, when I was putting laundry away, I snuck into his room.  At first glance, I didn't see him, but then I found him in a quiet corner.  He had brought all his stuffed "friends" together against his crib and he was lying there talking to them.  It was as if he had missed them all weekend and they were catching up with the latest.

Year 1, Day 306

Yesterday was Jackson's one year and 22 month birthday, but for all intents and purposes, I'd have to say that he is officially exhibiting two year old behaviors a couple months early.  Examples may include, but are not limited to the following:
Refusing kisses or hugs to immediate family, but smothering Patsy and other inanimate objects with love and attention. 

Sweetly ordering a soft serve at the walk up window, capturing the hearts of all the lady workers, and then spitting it all out on the picnic table and running into the parking lot at lightening speed.

Being reprimanded for running into the parking lot, and "going jello" in his car seat - unable to buckle him as he slithers to the floor in a hot mess.

"Going jello" usually lasts under 1 minute, but it is the most annoying minute possible, because the boneless child slides all around, limps himself into a puddle on the immediate surface below his feet, and covers himself and those around him in hot crocodile tears.

Jello time usually occurs when Jackson is tired, hot, or forced to miss out on something he thinks is great (like balancing and jumping off concrete parking stops in a busy lot).

 

Year 1, Day 305

Jackson's favorite sentence of the moment is: "DO YOU SEE THAT ONE?" And, it is usually repeated, thousands of times, until the person listening finally points out the actual object with which he is obsessing. It can be a fun game, but also annoying to some extent, when he's pointing out an ant that has walked inside a sidewalk crack, and you can no longer see it. 

Jackson's sentences have exploded this week in particular. From saying things like "I see a helicopter up in the sky" to "there's a birdie in the tree."  All of his words are descriptive of the world around him.  These are the moments that I was waiting for, because this is the time in his development, when the little things are so magical.  They are the times that he is witnnessing and fully experiencing the daily life that I take for granted.

Having a child, I was automatically brought to that point of appreciation for the little things again.  For the way sand moves through your hand when it's wet or bone dry . . . for the shocking temperature of hose water when it gushes out or teases you from a sprinkler . . . and for the way bubbles tickle you in the pool, when someone breaks the surface with giant splashes.  Having a child, means being a child and appreciating those moments. Or at the very least, not taking those experiences for granted.



     

Year 1, Day 304

Fourth of July weekend!  How happy were we to leave the city early and head out "west".  Not much to do all weekend except enjoy the sun, swim in the pool, celebrate Auntie Sha's birthday, and visit with Aunt Rach and Uncle Chris. Though it sounds chock full of plans, we are hanging low and taking things as they come this weekend.

Jackson, on the drive home today, asked me where his Daddy was. I said "daddy is working", but strangly, I couldn't get ahold of him today at the office (he was actually very busy and not his desk as I learned later). Jackson's response, when I said he wasn't answering his phone . . . "Daddy's golfing." It was priceless. Poor Mike, he's only been out on the course once this year and that was for a charity event. How Jack remembers these things, I have no idea! His mind is a steel trap. I am bracing myself for the things he comes up with when he's old enough to articulate what he experienced or heard at this age. I always remember cringing as a preschool teacher when the kids would out their parents on something completely inappropriate that they had overheard. Children are always listening. And, they can spell ALOT earlier than you think!!

Year 1, Day 303

It finally happened.  We discovered a way to keep jackson occupied and engaged during a long car ride home each day. It doesn't involve electronics, books, toys, or songs.  It is merely the "bridge game."  Technically, it is the "overpass game" but Jack knows what a bridge is, so just appease me here.

The Mass Pike from Boston to Natick has about 30 overpasses along the way.  Just randomly today, when pointing out things we see outside, we anticipated a "bridge" a mile away.  "Jackson, here comes a bridge - are you ready?  Get ready?! 1, 2, 3, AHHHHH!!! (scream).  And as soon as we were out from under it, we'd shout "OUT!"  It is a simple game, not for the person desiring the sound of silence, but at least there is belly laughter between all the "bridges". After two times, he started anticipating and saying "I see one!! 1, 2, 3" and screams his silly little head off when we go under it.  Let  me tell you, there are lots of overpasses, so it speeds up our trip tremendously.  It was actually a very nice ride home today with lots of contagious belly laughs.

So, you don't need technology, all the time, to save you.  Sometimes it just takes simple observation to come up with a "game." The downside - hopefully we're not causing a bridge phobia that makes him unable to drive in 14 years.  I can see him screaming now, at 16, when he goes under a bridge. He'll need intensive hypnotherapy to recover.

Year 1, Day 302

I guess I should be worried.  My son is smarter than me, and he's already calling me out on things.  This morning, I was in the middle of pulling his socks on (a task that I know he can do, but I indulge anyway).  Once on,  I said "Look, there are dump trucks on your piggies!"  The socks are quite precious, with a truck sew onto the top of each sock.  He loves them.  His response:  "No Mama. Bucket Loader."

And it WAS a bucket loader, which looks NOTHING like a dump truck. Duh. In my defense, I  saw a construction vehicle and shouted out the default that currently lives in my head. I have read "Dump Truck" the book, so many times that I could recite it right now . . . "My name is Ricky.  I like to play with my dump truck in the sandbox. I like to pretend that I am on a construction site . . . what if I could drive a dump truck?"

I'm sure Jackson could tell me the specs of the bucket loader, its main job, and the average salary that the operator makes. Your own children aren't supposed to realize they are smarter than you until they are 18 years old or so. I am in some serious trouble. Maybe I should go look for PhD programs . . .

Year 1, Day 301

I needed a day removed before telling this story.

Yesterday's drop off at daycare was a comedy beyond epic proportions.  You couldn't have written a clearer description of Murphy's Law.

It was the Monday after a week's vacation.  That sentence alone should spell out trouble and send a person running.  But like the happy Jack he is, he woke up eager to hit the beach and play in the sunshine. Only, that wasn't on the agenda.  Instead, I took him to the ear doctor for a check up.  What kind of sadistic mother makes an ear appointment for a child the day after returning from vacation?  The ear doctor to Jackson is like Gargamel to the smurfs. He is evil.  Jack screams bloody murder at the sight of his crazy hair and the infamous green chair. He was the man that suctioned gunk from his ears and traumatized him for life. Jackson despises few people. The ear doctor tops his list.

After an hour of horror, we made our way to school. With the knowledge that he is booked for surgery and another tube in mid-July, I was already anxious and uptight. Arriving to an empty classroom, I heard a teacher say "all the kids are in sprinklers in the play yard, just change him and head out." Sounds easy. I do this all the time. The following is a re-enactment of what actually took place -

A struggle ensued. Jackson refused to let me put on a diaper, but since I am the mother - I did it anyway. He popped in protest.

I changed him into a swim diaper and let him wash his hands while I applied sunscreen to my screaming child (running water usually soothes him. usually.) Jackson splashed water out of the sink, and as if in slow motion, it ran over the counter and cascaded to the floor.  In an effort to stop him, I grabbed his slippery arm, and he fell. He cried. He peed in his swim diaper. 

I was shocked that a swim diaper doesn't absorb pee?? Apparently it has to be wet to absorb pee? Pools of urine ran down his leg. so I pulled his swim diaper off. He wasn't finished.

He peed all over my legs and my short sassy dress, which I felt completely overconfident in anyway. He is a boy. His aim is good.

I was shocked, because the pee pooled in my sandals. It shouldn't have freaked me out, but it did, espeically when I tried to walk and kept slipping. I turned quickly, and accidentally stepped on Jackson foot with my heel. He was behind me.

He screamed.  I checked for broken bones. There are 26 bones in a foot - surely I broke one?  He seemed to be walking fine . . . no limping, no bruising  . . .
 
Ego broken and soaked with pee, I finally called for help.  Note to self: don't wait so long next time.



 




 
   

Year 1, Day 300!

In another room yesterday, I overheard this conversation between Jack and his Daddy . . .

What that, Daddy??
A fishing pole, Monkey.
Whhhhy?
To catch fishies in the water.
Whhhy?
Because they don't jump in the boat by themselves.
Whhhy?
Because they like it better in the water
Whhhy?
Because they live with their families in the water.
Whhhy?
Because they were born there.
Whhhy?
Because God put them there.
Whhhy?
Ahhh, Kree? Some help here???