Dear Jacob,
Oh my gravy, this last month has FLOWN by! You are now officially a big brother, and what a great big brother you are. From the moment Cody came home from the hospital, you knew that this baby was special and different from the other babies that you know. You like holding him and touching his nose (and talking about the boogers in his nose), cuddling up when I feed him, trying to feed him cookies and toast. Good sharing, but let's just stick with the boob for a few more months, mmmkay?
This last week, however, I've noticed a change in your lovey dovey big brother attitude. Your gentle caresses have become a little more pokey, with a focus on the eyes. You are roaring in his face more frequently, and you seem to have figured out that Daddy, Cody and I are staying home while you go to daycare, and this is SO NOT COOL. However, I'd like to remind you of how much you love daycare, and prefer E's tacos and lasagna to anything that I pack in your lunch bag.
Dude, your puzzle making skills have ex.plo.ded. When I went on the Melissa & Doug buying binge a few weeks ago, I figured I'd introduce one puzzle per week, but you got through each one so quickly that I just broke them all out in one week! It's been really fun rotating the puzzles; I want to do puzzles with you forever.
I don't know if it's the responsibility of being a new brother, but you really are starting to seem like a big boy these days. It feels like yesterday that I was just swaddling you, and now you are this little person, a real live little boy. When did that happen? How can I slow things down? Sometimes, I just want to take moments like this morning, when Daddy and Cody were sleeping and you and I ate breakfast and did the fishy puzzle, I want to take those moments and capture them in amber before they fade away to "No time for breakfast Mom, I gotta get to school!"
I know this is a big transition for you (in addition to all the standard growing and learning and developing), and you are being a champ. I hope you know that Daddy and I love you so much, even when you are moody and clingy and whiny, even when one of us can't play with you because we are tending to your baby brother. And it's okay to feel weird right now, it's okay to love Cody and also kind of want to sit on his head. While we won't let you DO that, it's totally okay to want to.
Keep in mind though, that while you can steal all his baby gifts now, sooner than you think he's going to want that Sophie the Giraffe back, and he'll be willing to fight you for it. I'm just saying, you might want to think about cultivating a friendship down the line, and you have the upper hand here. While he may end up taller than you, he'll always love his big brother.
Love,
Mama
Showing posts with label Jacob. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jacob. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
Monday, March 01, 2010
Puzzle Face
Need I say more than the above title? Well maybe just this: Isn't my new camera AWESOME?
Monday, February 22, 2010
Puzzle Time
Josh: Do you buy those Melissa & Doug puzzles for Jacob, or yourself?
Monkey Brain: Let’s just call it a win-win.
It’s true, I love me a good puzzle, almost as much as Jacob. I mean, that kid can spend hours building, deconstructing and rebuilding the same dang puzzle, and I’m right there with him.
I love doing puzzles with Jacob for many reasons. First, I just love puzzles, always have. It capitalizes my visual way of thinking, a dance that soothes the savage Monkey Brain. I tend to think in pictures, so any opportunity to bring that type of thinking from the abstract of my mind to the concrete world makes me happy. This is why I also love crosswords and Scrabble.
Second, I love watching Jacob. During the spring and summer, I'd watch him maneuver through the toddler puzzles that have cutouts for each piece, some that came with sound. Over and over he'd line up the puzzle piece with the corresponding picture, and dance to the sound of a yipping Zebra (or roaring lion, etc) when he got it right.
Now we've moved on to floor puzzles, 48 oversized pieces, and I get to join in on the fun. After the first few tries, I have to step back and let him have a go at the puzzle at hand, because he is a pretty quick learner. Watching him do puzzles is a form of meditation. I am in the moment, and it’s like I’m watching the gears of his brain turn. He tries out a few pieces here or there, and then he’ll just light upon one that he has memorized, and I can see the recognition as he puts it into place, the confidence and satisfaction that he gets from getting it right. In those moments I am seeing something magical, as if I am literally watching him grow before my eyes. I feel as proud of his accomplishment as he is, and so happy to bear witness to his developing self.
Finally, this is something that we can do together. Over the last 10 months, a variety of things have taken me away from my son. Morning sickness, which sent me to bed on many afternoon/evenings for the fist half of my pregnancy, the physical tiredness of the last few months when I couldn’t really lift him, the days in the hospital, and the last two weeks of not lifting him at all while being nearly permanently attached to Cody.
And so I ordered up some puzzles, which I’m introducing to Jacob one at a time. I broke out an underwater scene on Friday, and since then we’ve done the “fishy puzzle,” oh, thirty times at least. In my book, this is time well spent. We are not watching Kung Fu Panda, or Madagascar, or Youtube videos of polar bears, although these all have their time and place. I don’t need to be able to run around the house roaring like a monster. I don't need to be able to lift him up to be close to him. I can sit on the floor with my still slightly aching belly, sometimes while feeding a newborn, and reconnect with my older son in joint meditation over a two by three foot puzzle.
Monkey Brain: Let’s just call it a win-win.
It’s true, I love me a good puzzle, almost as much as Jacob. I mean, that kid can spend hours building, deconstructing and rebuilding the same dang puzzle, and I’m right there with him.
I love doing puzzles with Jacob for many reasons. First, I just love puzzles, always have. It capitalizes my visual way of thinking, a dance that soothes the savage Monkey Brain. I tend to think in pictures, so any opportunity to bring that type of thinking from the abstract of my mind to the concrete world makes me happy. This is why I also love crosswords and Scrabble.
Second, I love watching Jacob. During the spring and summer, I'd watch him maneuver through the toddler puzzles that have cutouts for each piece, some that came with sound. Over and over he'd line up the puzzle piece with the corresponding picture, and dance to the sound of a yipping Zebra (or roaring lion, etc) when he got it right.
Now we've moved on to floor puzzles, 48 oversized pieces, and I get to join in on the fun. After the first few tries, I have to step back and let him have a go at the puzzle at hand, because he is a pretty quick learner. Watching him do puzzles is a form of meditation. I am in the moment, and it’s like I’m watching the gears of his brain turn. He tries out a few pieces here or there, and then he’ll just light upon one that he has memorized, and I can see the recognition as he puts it into place, the confidence and satisfaction that he gets from getting it right. In those moments I am seeing something magical, as if I am literally watching him grow before my eyes. I feel as proud of his accomplishment as he is, and so happy to bear witness to his developing self.
Finally, this is something that we can do together. Over the last 10 months, a variety of things have taken me away from my son. Morning sickness, which sent me to bed on many afternoon/evenings for the fist half of my pregnancy, the physical tiredness of the last few months when I couldn’t really lift him, the days in the hospital, and the last two weeks of not lifting him at all while being nearly permanently attached to Cody.
And so I ordered up some puzzles, which I’m introducing to Jacob one at a time. I broke out an underwater scene on Friday, and since then we’ve done the “fishy puzzle,” oh, thirty times at least. In my book, this is time well spent. We are not watching Kung Fu Panda, or Madagascar, or Youtube videos of polar bears, although these all have their time and place. I don’t need to be able to run around the house roaring like a monster. I don't need to be able to lift him up to be close to him. I can sit on the floor with my still slightly aching belly, sometimes while feeding a newborn, and reconnect with my older son in joint meditation over a two by three foot puzzle.
Tuesday, February 02, 2010
28 Months: Jacob
Dear Jacob,
Happy 28th month birthday! You are such a fun little guy. We’ve been doing a lot of activities lately, and I have so much fun making puzzles, legos or racetrack with you, especially since we just got a new activity table from Melissa & Doug (thanks Jojo!). Seriously, kid, I’m having so much fun I don’t even get mad at Daddy when he disappears to the Internet while we play.
Soooo, very soon, you will be a big brother. Holy moly, I know that’s big news. I also know that you probably have NO idea about what’s coming your way. I mean, you are so good with babies, but when we bring the baby home from the hospital, he or she is going to stay with us. Forever. So you are stuck with each other, and man, that is a good thing. You are going to need someone to complain about your annoying parents. Someday I hope you will thank me for making you share your crib, your room, and our hearts.
Speaking of the hospital, there’s going to be a few days where you won’t see us, and we’ll come home with a baby, but don’t blame the baby, okay? You are going to have a really great time with A&P, and hopefully they can bring you to the hospital to see Daddy every day for a little bit, okay? It will be like that time when you stayed with your aunt, uncle, and baby cousin and got to play in that fun place with the ball pit. Wasn’t that fun? Yes, this will be just like that.
My only complaint? This power struggle with food. I know it’s not about the food, but I’m getting to my wit’s end over here. I mean, some days you gobble up salad, but most days you will only eat yogurt and toast with butter. And yet. I hear that at daycare you will eat noodles, or chicken nuggets, tacos (none of which you eat at home, btw). What’s the deal? I’m starting to look like a chump with the lunches that I pack, the items that you eat at home but not at daycare. I mean, is macaroni & cheese really “gwoss”? Don’t you think you should taste it first? My hope is that this is a developmental storm that we’ll get through, but I’m chronicling it here and now for when you have your own picky eater someday. Karma's a bear my love, Karma's a bear.
Love,
Mama
Happy 28th month birthday! You are such a fun little guy. We’ve been doing a lot of activities lately, and I have so much fun making puzzles, legos or racetrack with you, especially since we just got a new activity table from Melissa & Doug (thanks Jojo!). Seriously, kid, I’m having so much fun I don’t even get mad at Daddy when he disappears to the Internet while we play.
Soooo, very soon, you will be a big brother. Holy moly, I know that’s big news. I also know that you probably have NO idea about what’s coming your way. I mean, you are so good with babies, but when we bring the baby home from the hospital, he or she is going to stay with us. Forever. So you are stuck with each other, and man, that is a good thing. You are going to need someone to complain about your annoying parents. Someday I hope you will thank me for making you share your crib, your room, and our hearts.
Speaking of the hospital, there’s going to be a few days where you won’t see us, and we’ll come home with a baby, but don’t blame the baby, okay? You are going to have a really great time with A&P, and hopefully they can bring you to the hospital to see Daddy every day for a little bit, okay? It will be like that time when you stayed with your aunt, uncle, and baby cousin and got to play in that fun place with the ball pit. Wasn’t that fun? Yes, this will be just like that.
My only complaint? This power struggle with food. I know it’s not about the food, but I’m getting to my wit’s end over here. I mean, some days you gobble up salad, but most days you will only eat yogurt and toast with butter. And yet. I hear that at daycare you will eat noodles, or chicken nuggets, tacos (none of which you eat at home, btw). What’s the deal? I’m starting to look like a chump with the lunches that I pack, the items that you eat at home but not at daycare. I mean, is macaroni & cheese really “gwoss”? Don’t you think you should taste it first? My hope is that this is a developmental storm that we’ll get through, but I’m chronicling it here and now for when you have your own picky eater someday. Karma's a bear my love, Karma's a bear.
Love,
Mama
Friday, January 22, 2010
Postpartum Story (Jacob)
Warning for all you squeamish folk out there: there will be blood. .
When Jacob was about 2 weeks old, I woke up with unexplained pain in my left hip and groin to the point that I couldn’t walk without help. After two days of on and off pain, it got so bad that I ended up in the ER at 4 in the morning and called my Mom in NY to see if she could come out and help with Jacob because I couldn’t take care of him.
Over the next 3 weeks my mom (props to Jojo!) did most of the day to day caretaking of Jacob while I tried to rest and visited the chiropractor and tried to figure out the mystery of this random pain, which kept me up most nights while Jacob slept. During this time I bought not one, but TWO Magic Bullets (Buy One Get One Free if you act NOW!) and became addicted to the Food Network and Rachael Ray. When Jacob was almost six weeks, I found an orthopedist who ordered an MRI which would later show a bulging disc. The good news was that I was starting to feel better, and my mom went home.
I started passing large clots the day that my mom left, literally passing the first one in the half hour before she left for the airport. Since the postpartum bleeding had slowed down and was now increasing, I was scared and called my OB. The office wasn’t too concerned, so I felt kind of foolish. As the evening wore on, I continued to pass golf ball sized clots, which steadily increased in size. Finally, we drove to ER at about 2 am, the third such trip in six weeks.
As soon as I stepped out of the car in the ER parking lot (what a polite uterus I have--NOT ON THE JETTA!!), I felt a whoosh of blood pour down my legs, like someone had pulled a string on a bucket in my uterus. Not one to give up appearances, my first thought was, good thing I’m wearing black pants. I walked into the ER, my slippers leaving Rorschachs on the cream colored linoleum and had a flash of guilt over the mess I was making. After I got on the examining table, I continued to pass more clots and it felt like I was part of a horror movie. I can only imagine how Josh felt, sitting next to our sleeping 6-week old while witnessing clot after clot coming out of his wife’s body.
The ultrasound technician did a scan and found nothing, so they sent me home and told me to see my OB. Since my OB was on vacation, I saw Dr. G, who was the same backup when my Dr was on vacation after my C-Section the next day. When I got to her office at 11 am the next morning, she saw a huge clot blocking my cervix, and sent me back to the hospital next door for surgery to remove it.
I went into surgery at about 1:30 pm, where they did a D&C (dilation & curettage), which is where they dilate your cervix and scrape your uterus clean. I was already dilated about 3-4 cm (much faster than with Jacob!), my body had gone back into labor because there was something still there.
When they removed the clot, 800 ccs of blood came out, a little under 2 pints, which I’m told is about 25% of my blood volume, a factoid I was very glad not to know at the time. They ultimately found that a piece of placenta had been left behind after my C-Section, and that was what had been causing so much havoc on my body.
Dr. G was very apologetic and Monday Morning Quarterbacking her choice to not give me a postpartum scan when I had the uterine infection. I have to say I have no ill will towards either doctor that treated me. They made the best choices that they could, I received good care, and a heartfelt apology goes a long way.
I hated being back in the hospital. I hadn't been apart from Jacob, and after Josh and he left for the night, I cried myself to sleep. I was so afraid and alone, but in shock at what had just happened. That night was probably the lowest point for me, watching my family leave. Now that I was on the mend and feeling safe, my mind finally let me image their life without me.
After that night in the hospital, things improved dramatically. Luckily I didn't need a transfusion and got to go home Saturday morning. That Saturday and Sunday I was tired as my body rebuilt its iron stores, but most of my physical ailments were gone (except for the bulging disc, but even that felt better), and the nice part is that I was so happy to be physically able to take care of my son that I didn’t care about being up in the middle of the night. If I was up, it was because of him, not me, and that was an unexpected joy. I also stopped thinking about what happened to me and put it away in a box, one that I am now trying to slowly unwrap as I gear up for Keiki.
The phrase that goes in and out of my head is this: I could have died. Every time this phrase comes up, it wraps around me like a boa constrictor until I push it down and back into the box. Don’t be silly. You’re such a drama queen. People have been through worse. Whether or not these things are valid, the fact is that when I walked into the ER that last time with blood streaming down my legs, it’s very likely that I was a few bad decisions away from death, and facing that truth is what drives my current fear and indecision regarding Keiki’s birth.
I'm sharing this to try and loosen the power that this has over me. What happened to me was scary and potentially life-threatening, but I made it. I made it to my Dr.’s office before passing that large clot and losing all that blood at home, in my sleep or someplace else where I couldn’t have gotten immediate help. I recovered and was able to care for my son. I am able to carry another healthy baby, and I am willing to work through all this shit, no matter how scary it is. I am so grateful that I am here with my lovely family about to be expanded, which makes it feel all the more selfish to keep up this loop in my head. And yet, I feel that if I can express it, however crazy or self-indulgent that feels, I can let go of it. I can stop thinking about how I could have died, and remember that I didn’t.
When Jacob was about 2 weeks old, I woke up with unexplained pain in my left hip and groin to the point that I couldn’t walk without help. After two days of on and off pain, it got so bad that I ended up in the ER at 4 in the morning and called my Mom in NY to see if she could come out and help with Jacob because I couldn’t take care of him.
Over the next 3 weeks my mom (props to Jojo!) did most of the day to day caretaking of Jacob while I tried to rest and visited the chiropractor and tried to figure out the mystery of this random pain, which kept me up most nights while Jacob slept. During this time I bought not one, but TWO Magic Bullets (Buy One Get One Free if you act NOW!) and became addicted to the Food Network and Rachael Ray. When Jacob was almost six weeks, I found an orthopedist who ordered an MRI which would later show a bulging disc. The good news was that I was starting to feel better, and my mom went home.
I started passing large clots the day that my mom left, literally passing the first one in the half hour before she left for the airport. Since the postpartum bleeding had slowed down and was now increasing, I was scared and called my OB. The office wasn’t too concerned, so I felt kind of foolish. As the evening wore on, I continued to pass golf ball sized clots, which steadily increased in size. Finally, we drove to ER at about 2 am, the third such trip in six weeks.
As soon as I stepped out of the car in the ER parking lot (what a polite uterus I have--NOT ON THE JETTA!!), I felt a whoosh of blood pour down my legs, like someone had pulled a string on a bucket in my uterus. Not one to give up appearances, my first thought was, good thing I’m wearing black pants. I walked into the ER, my slippers leaving Rorschachs on the cream colored linoleum and had a flash of guilt over the mess I was making. After I got on the examining table, I continued to pass more clots and it felt like I was part of a horror movie. I can only imagine how Josh felt, sitting next to our sleeping 6-week old while witnessing clot after clot coming out of his wife’s body.
The ultrasound technician did a scan and found nothing, so they sent me home and told me to see my OB. Since my OB was on vacation, I saw Dr. G, who was the same backup when my Dr was on vacation after my C-Section the next day. When I got to her office at 11 am the next morning, she saw a huge clot blocking my cervix, and sent me back to the hospital next door for surgery to remove it.
I went into surgery at about 1:30 pm, where they did a D&C (dilation & curettage), which is where they dilate your cervix and scrape your uterus clean. I was already dilated about 3-4 cm (much faster than with Jacob!), my body had gone back into labor because there was something still there.
When they removed the clot, 800 ccs of blood came out, a little under 2 pints, which I’m told is about 25% of my blood volume, a factoid I was very glad not to know at the time. They ultimately found that a piece of placenta had been left behind after my C-Section, and that was what had been causing so much havoc on my body.
Dr. G was very apologetic and Monday Morning Quarterbacking her choice to not give me a postpartum scan when I had the uterine infection. I have to say I have no ill will towards either doctor that treated me. They made the best choices that they could, I received good care, and a heartfelt apology goes a long way.
I hated being back in the hospital. I hadn't been apart from Jacob, and after Josh and he left for the night, I cried myself to sleep. I was so afraid and alone, but in shock at what had just happened. That night was probably the lowest point for me, watching my family leave. Now that I was on the mend and feeling safe, my mind finally let me image their life without me.
After that night in the hospital, things improved dramatically. Luckily I didn't need a transfusion and got to go home Saturday morning. That Saturday and Sunday I was tired as my body rebuilt its iron stores, but most of my physical ailments were gone (except for the bulging disc, but even that felt better), and the nice part is that I was so happy to be physically able to take care of my son that I didn’t care about being up in the middle of the night. If I was up, it was because of him, not me, and that was an unexpected joy. I also stopped thinking about what happened to me and put it away in a box, one that I am now trying to slowly unwrap as I gear up for Keiki.
The phrase that goes in and out of my head is this: I could have died. Every time this phrase comes up, it wraps around me like a boa constrictor until I push it down and back into the box. Don’t be silly. You’re such a drama queen. People have been through worse. Whether or not these things are valid, the fact is that when I walked into the ER that last time with blood streaming down my legs, it’s very likely that I was a few bad decisions away from death, and facing that truth is what drives my current fear and indecision regarding Keiki’s birth.
I'm sharing this to try and loosen the power that this has over me. What happened to me was scary and potentially life-threatening, but I made it. I made it to my Dr.’s office before passing that large clot and losing all that blood at home, in my sleep or someplace else where I couldn’t have gotten immediate help. I recovered and was able to care for my son. I am able to carry another healthy baby, and I am willing to work through all this shit, no matter how scary it is. I am so grateful that I am here with my lovely family about to be expanded, which makes it feel all the more selfish to keep up this loop in my head. And yet, I feel that if I can express it, however crazy or self-indulgent that feels, I can let go of it. I can stop thinking about how I could have died, and remember that I didn’t.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
The playground is to toddlers as the Marina Safeway is to grown ups
Just in case the above reference has too many San Francisco values, here is a link to a brief background.
Jacob: Hi! Whatchu eating?
Girl at the Playground: Cheerios
Jacob: No, dat’s cookies!
GATP: Blank Stare
Jacob: Whatchu doing?
GATP: Blank Stare
Jacob: Whatchu doing?
GATP: Blank Stare
She did approach him later in the sandbox and they took laps around the playground for a bit. Look out ladies!
Jacob: Hi! Whatchu eating?
Girl at the Playground: Cheerios
Jacob: No, dat’s cookies!
GATP: Blank Stare
Jacob: Whatchu doing?
GATP: Blank Stare
Jacob: Whatchu doing?
GATP: Blank Stare
She did approach him later in the sandbox and they took laps around the playground for a bit. Look out ladies!
Sunday, January 03, 2010
Muffy, Dahling, we MUST make a date for tennis
Note: The above title should be read with extreme lockjaw
In researching linens for Jacob, I thought I would end up with some cute animal print, a nod to his love of animals and Madagascar. And yet, I found myself having a WASP attack in Target, which resulted in something that you might see in the Maine cabin of a Boston Brahmin. And by cabin, I mean mansion made out of logs. You can take the girl out of the yacht club, but you can't take the yacht club out of the girl. Excuse me while I go polish my pearls. . .
Seen/Heard
"Jacob, do you smell the popcorn? Doesn't it smell good?"
" I can't smell it! I can't smell it! My booger, my booger!"
" I can't smell it! I can't smell it! My booger, my booger!"
Saturday, January 02, 2010
27 Months
Dear Jacob,
You are 27 months today and Holy Crap! The toddler has landed and is unprotected. Repeat, the toddler has landed. In the bed. With no bars. After freaking out at the prospect of not just "playing" night night in your new bed (Without! Bars! Crib! Now! Mama!), you went down in your new bed tonight. And as of now, 8:51 pm, PST, there is silence, which I'm only going to assume means sleeping, since I'm not going to even THINK about checking and potentially waking that little dragon. Jacob, I've been terrible with your lovely Pooh Bear Baby Book, but I hope that this will make up for it somehow. Tonight, you took one more step into the big boy pool.
Sigh.
What next? Pooping in the potty? Tying your own shoes? College? Luckily, there's another one coming soon and it starts all over again. Just kidding. Keiki will never replace you in my heart. Hearts are like balloons, real ones, not the cardboard ones they have on the walls at Trader Joe's that you like so much. Hearts (the abstract love kind, not the ventricular kind) expand and expand, and they never explode, although sometimes with you, it sure feels that my heart may do just that.
I love your new expressiveness, the expansion of your sentences. I love that you say things like, "My mommy, my mommy" when you want me, and when I sing, "I love Ja-cob," you ape me right back: "I luff Mo-mmy!". I love that you lift up my shirt when I read you stories so you can get really close to Keiki, and sometimes your figeting feels like you just can't get close enough, as if you are trying to crawl into my belly. By the way, that's how I felt when I first fell in love with Daddy, like there was no level of physical closeness that could be enough, that I wanted crawl inside him and curl up like a baby, so I totally know how you feel.
This week, we've spent more time on projects, like Play Dough, building with Duplos, and coloring in your coloring book. I've noticed that while you are pretty good at independent play, you always prefer Daddy or me to create for you while you watch. It seems like you are frustrated by your lack of skill and are somewhat of a perfectionist. Dude, you are only two! I only learned how to color in the lines in the last year or so.
I worry about this early sign of self-consciousness. How can I teach you that your scribbles are beautiful, that your lopsided towers are amazing? Luckily, you still eat food off the floor before I can catch you, so I don't have to worry about you too much.
All in all, you are a fabulous kid. Although, any thought to expanding your palate from yogurt, clementines, hot dogs, blueberries and pancakes? I dunno, a green veggie here or there? I'm just sayin'. . .
Love,
Mama
You are 27 months today and Holy Crap! The toddler has landed and is unprotected. Repeat, the toddler has landed. In the bed. With no bars. After freaking out at the prospect of not just "playing" night night in your new bed (Without! Bars! Crib! Now! Mama!), you went down in your new bed tonight. And as of now, 8:51 pm, PST, there is silence, which I'm only going to assume means sleeping, since I'm not going to even THINK about checking and potentially waking that little dragon. Jacob, I've been terrible with your lovely Pooh Bear Baby Book, but I hope that this will make up for it somehow. Tonight, you took one more step into the big boy pool.
Sigh.
What next? Pooping in the potty? Tying your own shoes? College? Luckily, there's another one coming soon and it starts all over again. Just kidding. Keiki will never replace you in my heart. Hearts are like balloons, real ones, not the cardboard ones they have on the walls at Trader Joe's that you like so much. Hearts (the abstract love kind, not the ventricular kind) expand and expand, and they never explode, although sometimes with you, it sure feels that my heart may do just that.
I love your new expressiveness, the expansion of your sentences. I love that you say things like, "My mommy, my mommy" when you want me, and when I sing, "I love Ja-cob," you ape me right back: "I luff Mo-mmy!". I love that you lift up my shirt when I read you stories so you can get really close to Keiki, and sometimes your figeting feels like you just can't get close enough, as if you are trying to crawl into my belly. By the way, that's how I felt when I first fell in love with Daddy, like there was no level of physical closeness that could be enough, that I wanted crawl inside him and curl up like a baby, so I totally know how you feel.
This week, we've spent more time on projects, like Play Dough, building with Duplos, and coloring in your coloring book. I've noticed that while you are pretty good at independent play, you always prefer Daddy or me to create for you while you watch. It seems like you are frustrated by your lack of skill and are somewhat of a perfectionist. Dude, you are only two! I only learned how to color in the lines in the last year or so.
I worry about this early sign of self-consciousness. How can I teach you that your scribbles are beautiful, that your lopsided towers are amazing? Luckily, you still eat food off the floor before I can catch you, so I don't have to worry about you too much.
All in all, you are a fabulous kid. Although, any thought to expanding your palate from yogurt, clementines, hot dogs, blueberries and pancakes? I dunno, a green veggie here or there? I'm just sayin'. . .
Love,
Mama
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Jacob’s Other Family
Every weekday, Josh drops Jacob off at daycare, where he is loved, loved, loved. And while I am grateful that he gets another form of parental attention in addition to all that Josh and I provide, there are moments.
Sometimes, when I think about daycare, I can certainly empathize with Fundamental Latter Day Saints (FLDS) co-wives and their potential jealousy.
Sometimes, when I think about daycare, I can certainly empathize with Fundamental Latter Day Saints (FLDS) co-wives and their potential jealousy.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Monkey Mama
Sometimes when Jacob wakes up, he’s peed out of his diaper and his jammies are a bit wet, so after I plopped him on the floor recently and found my own shirt a little moist, I shrugged it off. I SHOULD have changed him right there and then, but my belly was already squealing, and Daddy was nowhere to be found. Lifting him again was just not an option. What’s a little wetness among friends, right? He’d get changed soon enough.
Onward we went, into the kitchen for a little chocolate soy milk and Gorilla Munch (Gilla lunch!) cereal. A few minutes into breakfast, I noticed some water spots on the kitchen floor. Huh? There’s no milk with the Gilla Lunch. Then I notice that Jacob, still in his feety pajamas, is sloshing around the kitchen. How are his feet wet? And then I go in to check the front of his diaper, and all I get is a feel of little toddler penis through his jammies. I should not be feeling little toddler penis, I should be feeling crinkly full diaper. Did Daddy FORGET to put the diaper on last night? I’m still dazed and confused, not seeing the reality in front of me.
And so I strip my kid, right in the kitchen, and somehow, Jacob has made his way into his bottoms (which snap to the tops, making it very difficult to get little hands down the pants) and pulled down the front of his diaper. I’m both shocked at my pee covered son, who has no sense of self-consciousness, and kind of amazed at the MacGuyvering skill that allowed him to do this to himself.
The worst part? The part that goes on my list of embarassing mother acts? I scooped up the naked boy, and with an eye on the clock and not enough time for a bath, gave him a sponge bath with Baby Wipes and put on his nice Christmas outfit and sent him off to Josh’s school for the day. Smelling a bit like pee. Where, oh where, is my handbasket?
Onward we went, into the kitchen for a little chocolate soy milk and Gorilla Munch (Gilla lunch!) cereal. A few minutes into breakfast, I noticed some water spots on the kitchen floor. Huh? There’s no milk with the Gilla Lunch. Then I notice that Jacob, still in his feety pajamas, is sloshing around the kitchen. How are his feet wet? And then I go in to check the front of his diaper, and all I get is a feel of little toddler penis through his jammies. I should not be feeling little toddler penis, I should be feeling crinkly full diaper. Did Daddy FORGET to put the diaper on last night? I’m still dazed and confused, not seeing the reality in front of me.
And so I strip my kid, right in the kitchen, and somehow, Jacob has made his way into his bottoms (which snap to the tops, making it very difficult to get little hands down the pants) and pulled down the front of his diaper. I’m both shocked at my pee covered son, who has no sense of self-consciousness, and kind of amazed at the MacGuyvering skill that allowed him to do this to himself.
The worst part? The part that goes on my list of embarassing mother acts? I scooped up the naked boy, and with an eye on the clock and not enough time for a bath, gave him a sponge bath with Baby Wipes and put on his nice Christmas outfit and sent him off to Josh’s school for the day. Smelling a bit like pee. Where, oh where, is my handbasket?
Friday, December 18, 2009
Monkey Pic
This is what happens when you want to eat your dinner in peace and happen to leave the baby gate open and don't question the fact that the toddler has been silent for 3 minutes. 3 MINUTES! And this was a full roll, I'm talking 267 sheets of 3-ply, quilted softness.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Seen & Heard
“Do you want a little brother or little sister?”
Silence.
“Do you want a girl baby or a boy baby?”
“Or. . . how ‘bout a Mommy?”
“Well, we already have a Mommy.”
Keiki is sooo going to rock his world.
Silence.
“Do you want a girl baby or a boy baby?”
“Or. . . how ‘bout a Mommy?”
“Well, we already have a Mommy.”
Keiki is sooo going to rock his world.
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
26 Months
Dear Jacob,
You are 26 months today! In the last month, you have turned into quite the little despot. I mean, you are still your wonderful little self, but it's interesting to see your "Terrible Two" side come out in full force.
Lately you have been very vocal about your likes and dislikes, which usually takes the form of you pointing at the offending individual and saying, "Go Ober Dere!" I have mixed feelings about this. Sometimes it hurts my feelings. Sometimes I like it when you prefer Daddy, which leaves me time to read Us or People magazine undisturbed. And sometimes I am so proud of you for expressing yourself and demonstrating your needs. I'm still learning that and I'm 34 years old!
In a couple of months you are going to be a big brother, and instead of kissing Mama's belly, you will be kissing a real, live, floppy little thing. Just try not to bop it over the head like you did a couple of weeks ago with your baby cousin.
Back to the whole "terrible twos" thing. Nights are getting more difficult lately. I know you are hungry but you won't eat anything; what happened to my tofu, avocado loving baby? How can you not like chicken noodle soup? And the screaming when I don't allow you to watch Shrek? And the running away when we try to get you into the bath? Do you really want to be the kid at daycare who smells like pee pee? I know you are a speedy little thing, but we will always catch you, just so you know.
Somehow, through the pregnancy hormones and general tiredness I have managed to keep you safe and alive, despite your somewhat maddening behavior (just eat the damn veggie burger already!) That's because you are suddenly a kissing, cuddling snuggly little bear cub, leading Daddy and me on ghost chases, hiding under the covers, and loving your polar bear/drums pajamas. You steal my shoes so I can't go to work, but then you say, "Have a great day!" and give me the best hug in the world.
Please know that even if you think I'm being mean when I don't let you rot your brain by watching Kung Fu Panda on infinite repeat, I am always on Team Jacob.
love,
Mama
You are 26 months today! In the last month, you have turned into quite the little despot. I mean, you are still your wonderful little self, but it's interesting to see your "Terrible Two" side come out in full force.
Lately you have been very vocal about your likes and dislikes, which usually takes the form of you pointing at the offending individual and saying, "Go Ober Dere!" I have mixed feelings about this. Sometimes it hurts my feelings. Sometimes I like it when you prefer Daddy, which leaves me time to read Us or People magazine undisturbed. And sometimes I am so proud of you for expressing yourself and demonstrating your needs. I'm still learning that and I'm 34 years old!
In a couple of months you are going to be a big brother, and instead of kissing Mama's belly, you will be kissing a real, live, floppy little thing. Just try not to bop it over the head like you did a couple of weeks ago with your baby cousin.
Back to the whole "terrible twos" thing. Nights are getting more difficult lately. I know you are hungry but you won't eat anything; what happened to my tofu, avocado loving baby? How can you not like chicken noodle soup? And the screaming when I don't allow you to watch Shrek? And the running away when we try to get you into the bath? Do you really want to be the kid at daycare who smells like pee pee? I know you are a speedy little thing, but we will always catch you, just so you know.
Somehow, through the pregnancy hormones and general tiredness I have managed to keep you safe and alive, despite your somewhat maddening behavior (just eat the damn veggie burger already!) That's because you are suddenly a kissing, cuddling snuggly little bear cub, leading Daddy and me on ghost chases, hiding under the covers, and loving your polar bear/drums pajamas. You steal my shoes so I can't go to work, but then you say, "Have a great day!" and give me the best hug in the world.
Please know that even if you think I'm being mean when I don't let you rot your brain by watching Kung Fu Panda on infinite repeat, I am always on Team Jacob.
love,
Mama
Monday, November 30, 2009
Genetics
Most would agree that Jacob is my doppelganger, so if it weren’t for his personality, I’d have some ‘splaining to do!
Countless times over the last 7 years:
Me: Do you even know what that(insert word/object here) is?
Josh: Yes!
Me: What is it?
Josh: silence. . .mumbles something indecipherable or rapidly changes the subject
Last Thursday:
Me: Jacob, can you say Thanksgiving?
Jacob: Yes!
Me: Go ahead, say “Happy Thanksgiving!”
Jacob: silence. . . .Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you. . .
Countless times over the last 7 years:
Me: Do you even know what that(insert word/object here) is?
Josh: Yes!
Me: What is it?
Josh: silence. . .mumbles something indecipherable or rapidly changes the subject
Last Thursday:
Me: Jacob, can you say Thanksgiving?
Jacob: Yes!
Me: Go ahead, say “Happy Thanksgiving!”
Jacob: silence. . . .Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you. . .
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Monkey Brain
We stayed at a Bed & Breakfast in Sonoma county last night, and they had a chicken coop near our room. It reminded Josh and me of our honeymoon in Kauai (less the toddler giving us the stink eye because we didn't want to get out of bed).
In Kauai, a hurricane in the early 90s destroyed some chicken coups, so now Kauai has free-roaming chickens and roosters like stray cats. The funny thing is that they are temporally challenged, so the roosters cock-a-doodle-doo at all hours. Like 2 am, or 10 am.
Anyhoo.
So this morning I took Jacob over to the chicken coop to say high before breakfast. I'm not sure how he learned this, but Jacob walked up to the fence, held out his palm, and said, "I come in peace." Once I stopped laughing, I grabbed his little fingers before the chicken, who clearly did not speak Jacob, could nip off some toddler fingertips.
I can't really blame the chicken. Jacob is delicious; I've nibbled on his fingers myself from time to time.
In Kauai, a hurricane in the early 90s destroyed some chicken coups, so now Kauai has free-roaming chickens and roosters like stray cats. The funny thing is that they are temporally challenged, so the roosters cock-a-doodle-doo at all hours. Like 2 am, or 10 am.
Anyhoo.
So this morning I took Jacob over to the chicken coop to say high before breakfast. I'm not sure how he learned this, but Jacob walked up to the fence, held out his palm, and said, "I come in peace." Once I stopped laughing, I grabbed his little fingers before the chicken, who clearly did not speak Jacob, could nip off some toddler fingertips.
I can't really blame the chicken. Jacob is delicious; I've nibbled on his fingers myself from time to time.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Little Napoleon
For the most part, Jacob is a dream, happy and sweet. Lately however, he's had some moments when he puts the terrible in two.
Let's take tonight. Jacob's actually sitting in a chair, eating some dinner (whohoo!) and when I get up for a moment, Josh sits in my chair. Somehow this small act turns happy eating Jacob into Mr. Hyde.
"No Josh, no! Go ober dere! Go in the chicken! Go in the chicken and cry!"
Go in the kitchen and cry? Where does he come up with this stuff?
Let's take tonight. Jacob's actually sitting in a chair, eating some dinner (whohoo!) and when I get up for a moment, Josh sits in my chair. Somehow this small act turns happy eating Jacob into Mr. Hyde.
"No Josh, no! Go ober dere! Go in the chicken! Go in the chicken and cry!"
Go in the kitchen and cry? Where does he come up with this stuff?
Friday, November 13, 2009
The Recap
I think that in another life, Josh would be a sports announcer or reality competition host, because that man loves a recap like nobody's business. When we were dating, one of his favorite things to do was to provide a recap of our dates. Sometimes he couldn't even wait until the end of the night, so I'd get an in-progress recap.
And while the Shaws own most of Jacob's physical real estate, when it comes to personality, he's all Henig. When Josh returned with our take-out dinner this evening, Jacob ran up to him, hugged his legs, and burst out, "Take a bath! Wash hands!," making sure that Daddy got the full scoop on what he missed. Oh those Henig boys; two peas in a pod.
And while the Shaws own most of Jacob's physical real estate, when it comes to personality, he's all Henig. When Josh returned with our take-out dinner this evening, Jacob ran up to him, hugged his legs, and burst out, "Take a bath! Wash hands!," making sure that Daddy got the full scoop on what he missed. Oh those Henig boys; two peas in a pod.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Take a seat!
So Jacob and I are hanging out tonight after work playing the ottoman game. Basically, he would climb over my legs (draped on said ottoman) and shimmy over the side of the ottoman until he fell into a heap on a floor. Toddlers are such cheap dates!
Anywhoo, at one point he wanted me to move my legs so he could have better ottoman access. Instead of saying "Move, Mama!", he says, "Stop it. Try this. Take a seat!", his voice rising each time knowing that it wasn't the right phrase. It was like watching C3PO having a meltdown.
Anywhoo, at one point he wanted me to move my legs so he could have better ottoman access. Instead of saying "Move, Mama!", he says, "Stop it. Try this. Take a seat!", his voice rising each time knowing that it wasn't the right phrase. It was like watching C3PO having a meltdown.
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
25 Months
Dear Jacob,
I can't believe that you are 25 months! Your development is pretty amazing to watch, and I'm glad that I'm starting to document this now so my Monkey Brain doesn't forget.
On Saturday, Daddy & I took you Trick or Treating with your closest thing to a bff, Tyler from across the street. I didn't think a 2 year old would be into the whole thing, but you picked it up quickly and were happily babbling "Trick or treating, trick or treating" while we made the rounds of a few houses. You were nice and polite with your "Thank yous" and fascinated by candy.
Speaking of tricks and candy, you are now starting to articulate your opinions pretty well. When on Sunday I was eating your Jujubes, you asked for some candy.
I said, "Oh, you won't like it, it's chewy," you responded, "I yike chewy!" And just last week, you were sitting on the couch reading your dinosaur book, and I tried to get you to come with me on some errands, you refused:
"No want to, wan read dinosaur book."
"You can read the dinosaur book in the car."
"Wanna read on the couch."
This is very troubling, young man. I was pretty sure that I could trick you into doing things that are good for you for a few more years, and you are already speaking your own mind. I am both excited and proud of your independence and confidence, and scared because this means that I have to get better at parenting you, not tricking you. Sigh.
Love,
Mama
I can't believe that you are 25 months! Your development is pretty amazing to watch, and I'm glad that I'm starting to document this now so my Monkey Brain doesn't forget.
On Saturday, Daddy & I took you Trick or Treating with your closest thing to a bff, Tyler from across the street. I didn't think a 2 year old would be into the whole thing, but you picked it up quickly and were happily babbling "Trick or treating, trick or treating" while we made the rounds of a few houses. You were nice and polite with your "Thank yous" and fascinated by candy.
Speaking of tricks and candy, you are now starting to articulate your opinions pretty well. When on Sunday I was eating your Jujubes, you asked for some candy.
I said, "Oh, you won't like it, it's chewy," you responded, "I yike chewy!" And just last week, you were sitting on the couch reading your dinosaur book, and I tried to get you to come with me on some errands, you refused:
"No want to, wan read dinosaur book."
"You can read the dinosaur book in the car."
"Wanna read on the couch."
This is very troubling, young man. I was pretty sure that I could trick you into doing things that are good for you for a few more years, and you are already speaking your own mind. I am both excited and proud of your independence and confidence, and scared because this means that I have to get better at parenting you, not tricking you. Sigh.
Love,
Mama
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