Jack STILL cries whenever I drop him off at daycare. In fact, when I tell him in the morning that we'll be going to Aunti Marie's house, he starts whine/crying. He hasn't quite figured out how to rebel, so he'll just stand there,crying and cooperating while I put his hat and coat on. He cries in the car once he realizes we're on the road. He cries when we get in the house and cries up until I hand him over, walk back down the hallway, and (usually) stops when I get to the bottom of the stairs (out of sight). I hate it. I'm tense when I leave and it takes me a solid twenty minutes to let it go. All I can think is that he hates it there, that he hates not having blankie (we don't take it anymore), and he'll hate me for going.
This morning, after dropping Jack off and taking Ed to BU, Ed said that he cries because he feels good attachment to us. What??!! I told Ed he was talking out of his parenting ass. A bit annoyed-- and rightly so-- Ed went on to explain that it is because of Jack's healthy attachment to us that he has separation anxiety. It would be an issue if he had no problem leaving us, or if he cried and cried and cried. Apparently, this crying is a good thing. I do remember reading something about what Ed is talking about back when I would pour over every parenting book available (I gave that up the night they didn't give me a quick solution for how to understand the individual that is Jack).
I still hate it. Basically, Jack cries because he loves us and his home so much that he'd rather be with us. The thing is, us grown-ups have forgotten what it is like to purely just want to be at home with our family; we've adjusted to having to get things done, go to work, go to school, do all that other stuff that is supposed to make time with family worthwhile. Funny how all that other stuff tends to push family time down the list. Oh, well.
We're heading home to the Northwest for Christmas. I can't wait to be with Jack and all of our family all of the time. I do realize that it will only make daycare that much tougher when we get back, but I think it will be worth it. So, okay, the crying is the result of being loved well. I get it- it's all the bittersweetness our parents talk about. Whew. That's all it is...
Thursday, December 15, 2005
Monday, December 12, 2005
Just Say No
Jack has learned how to "say" no - he shakes his head back and forth.
Me or Laura: "Jack, do you want to go take a bath?"
Jack: [shakes his head back and forth]
Me or Laura: "Jack, do you want some more milk?"
Jack: [shakes his head back and forth]
He's even learned how to say "no". It's more like a emphatic, "nnna". That's usually accompanied with a point of the finger toward the person asking him the question that requires a "nnna".
Of course all of this is still mind-numbingly cute (talk to me in 10 years time)
Me: "Jack, time to come in for dinner"
Jack: "What? Are you kidding me? No way."
Me or Laura: "Jack, do you want to go take a bath?"
Jack: [shakes his head back and forth]
Me or Laura: "Jack, do you want some more milk?"
Jack: [shakes his head back and forth]
He's even learned how to say "no". It's more like a emphatic, "nnna". That's usually accompanied with a point of the finger toward the person asking him the question that requires a "nnna".
Of course all of this is still mind-numbingly cute (talk to me in 10 years time)
Me: "Jack, time to come in for dinner"
Jack: "What? Are you kidding me? No way."
Saturday, December 03, 2005
Jack "Pollock" Kingston
Okay, so I know every parent thinks their child is a genius or the next DaVinci. I am no exception. I admit, though, I am surprised at how easily I've begun to fantasize about Jack becoming a brilliant artist. And not that I need him to be anything more than he is -watching him feed himself is brilliant enough for me. But, lately, Jack has been very busy drawing. That's all he does: draw, draw, draw. Typical toddler art- lots and lots of spirals and circles. Ever since he discovered a certain set of pens (the non-washable, of course), he's been manipulating them whenever he's not sleeping, eating, or having quality mommy, daddy or blanket time. I have these visions of walking into the living room, looking over his work and saying, "you've done it, Jack; you've cracked it wide open..."
The other night, we assembled our new hallway bench/coat rack from Target and Jack barely interupted (other than the occasional hammering "just like daddy"). He laid on the floor, thrilled to be coloring a long strip of white cardboard that came with the packing.
Last night we went out and left Jack with the babysitter. He was drawing on a notepad at the coffee table (of course). I told him that mommy and daddy were going bye-bye and that Lauren would stay and play with him. He didn't look up. I asked him for kiss. While still drawing, he leaned his head my way, still NOT looking up, and accepted my kiss. Did the same for Ed. Didn't cry at all when we left.
This morning, after a somewhat rough night coughing and being stuffed up with a cold, Jack sat on my lap on the couch with blankie watching whatever PBS kid show is on(as is our morning routine). He didn't sit there five minutes before he saw pad and pen- and off my lap he jumped, scrambling for this morning's artistic discovery.
Our house contains a gaggle of 8 1/2 x 11 inch paper, all colored in red, black, or green ink. Once he's finished with one, he throws it on the ground, drawing on the next. And, I have to admit, I like that he has an activity that keeps him so occupied (I've been waiting for this since he was born). I should save some of the "artwork" but they all look the same. I'll grab one that shows spark of his artistic individuality, but then, as a mom, won't they all look like that?
The other night, we assembled our new hallway bench/coat rack from Target and Jack barely interupted (other than the occasional hammering "just like daddy"). He laid on the floor, thrilled to be coloring a long strip of white cardboard that came with the packing.
Last night we went out and left Jack with the babysitter. He was drawing on a notepad at the coffee table (of course). I told him that mommy and daddy were going bye-bye and that Lauren would stay and play with him. He didn't look up. I asked him for kiss. While still drawing, he leaned his head my way, still NOT looking up, and accepted my kiss. Did the same for Ed. Didn't cry at all when we left.
This morning, after a somewhat rough night coughing and being stuffed up with a cold, Jack sat on my lap on the couch with blankie watching whatever PBS kid show is on(as is our morning routine). He didn't sit there five minutes before he saw pad and pen- and off my lap he jumped, scrambling for this morning's artistic discovery.
Our house contains a gaggle of 8 1/2 x 11 inch paper, all colored in red, black, or green ink. Once he's finished with one, he throws it on the ground, drawing on the next. And, I have to admit, I like that he has an activity that keeps him so occupied (I've been waiting for this since he was born). I should save some of the "artwork" but they all look the same. I'll grab one that shows spark of his artistic individuality, but then, as a mom, won't they all look like that?
Friday, November 25, 2005
Hat Man
These are Jack's two favorite things in life: his blankie and his "hat." He'll wear this old ice cream container (it's been washed..) around, playing with his toys, ears folded over, for as long as it will stay on. Good thing, too. With the cold weather, his comfort with head gear is crucial. We'll post more hat picks later - this one's the best and our new favorite. 
Monday, November 21, 2005
Jack Talk
About a week ago, Jack and I went upstairs to visit the landlords and their kids. Jack LOVES Colleen- the four year old. I don't know if it is because she is the same age as his cousin, Lily, whom he also adores, but whenever he hears her, he gets excited.
Colleen was doing very little to make Jack laugh hysterically - running around the house, jumping out behind furniture. At one point, though, she tried to keep Jack from sitting on my lap. Immediately, Jack stood his ground, jutted his pointy finger at her, and exclaimed a very clear, well, something. It sounded like a mix of "mine," "mom," and "no." He was probably saying all three. I was partly shocked, but also pretty impressed with his ability to set a boundary. Strong-willed Colleen cowered to my toddler, and needed some cuddling to get over it.
In the last few days, Jack has made the connection between shaking his head and "no." It's mostly been a game- I ask if he wants something and he'll shake his head no, smiling with his new communication skill. Tonight we read a Blue's Clues book and when I asked him if there was a clue on the page, he would shake his head no - in a somewhat impatient, proud sort of way. Now, I don't know why it is that kids learn how to say no before yes - or maybe that's just my impression. I guess we (adults) say no more than we say yes. (No, don't eat that crayon, No, stay off the street..).
I do love that Jack doesn't have to say yes or no for me to understand him. And, I think he's smiling when he shakes his head "no" because he knows that I'll figure out what he is saying with our without the clear signal. I wonder when that clear communication gets lost- when, in part because of language, we don't comprehend the other as well. Because he can't talk, I have learned ot understand him based on facial expressions or mere inflections in his babbling. I suppose I'm just aware of how much I rely on non-verbal communication because there is hardly any verbal communication. I wonder, too, how much we rely on non-verbal communication to determine what other people around us are "saying" - but are so unconscious in our interpretation of the non-verbal clues, that we don't even know how we arrive at the conclusions we often do.
Here's to hoping that I can hear what Jack says as well as I can understand all that he doesn't say- and to encourage him to be as genuine as possible- so that those non-verbal cues actually match the verbal ones (can you imagine?).
Colleen was doing very little to make Jack laugh hysterically - running around the house, jumping out behind furniture. At one point, though, she tried to keep Jack from sitting on my lap. Immediately, Jack stood his ground, jutted his pointy finger at her, and exclaimed a very clear, well, something. It sounded like a mix of "mine," "mom," and "no." He was probably saying all three. I was partly shocked, but also pretty impressed with his ability to set a boundary. Strong-willed Colleen cowered to my toddler, and needed some cuddling to get over it.
In the last few days, Jack has made the connection between shaking his head and "no." It's mostly been a game- I ask if he wants something and he'll shake his head no, smiling with his new communication skill. Tonight we read a Blue's Clues book and when I asked him if there was a clue on the page, he would shake his head no - in a somewhat impatient, proud sort of way. Now, I don't know why it is that kids learn how to say no before yes - or maybe that's just my impression. I guess we (adults) say no more than we say yes. (No, don't eat that crayon, No, stay off the street..).
I do love that Jack doesn't have to say yes or no for me to understand him. And, I think he's smiling when he shakes his head "no" because he knows that I'll figure out what he is saying with our without the clear signal. I wonder when that clear communication gets lost- when, in part because of language, we don't comprehend the other as well. Because he can't talk, I have learned ot understand him based on facial expressions or mere inflections in his babbling. I suppose I'm just aware of how much I rely on non-verbal communication because there is hardly any verbal communication. I wonder, too, how much we rely on non-verbal communication to determine what other people around us are "saying" - but are so unconscious in our interpretation of the non-verbal clues, that we don't even know how we arrive at the conclusions we often do.
Here's to hoping that I can hear what Jack says as well as I can understand all that he doesn't say- and to encourage him to be as genuine as possible- so that those non-verbal cues actually match the verbal ones (can you imagine?).
Monday, November 14, 2005
Uh-Oh
This is Jack's new favorite saying.
"Uh-oh".
He's gotten pretty good at it too. Of course, we thought it was cute for the first 1000 times he said, "Uh-oh", so we reinforced the "uh-oh"-behavior with smiles and laughes. Now Jack says it over and over and over.
Blankie is thrown on the ground: "uh-oh".
A little bowl of cheerios is dumped on the floor: "uh-oh."
Anything drops to the floor: "uh-oh".
And it's not one "uh-oh", it's a series of "uh-oh's", each increasingly louder than the first. We got to teach him another saying. Maybe, "Go Irish!"
"Uh-oh".
He's gotten pretty good at it too. Of course, we thought it was cute for the first 1000 times he said, "Uh-oh", so we reinforced the "uh-oh"-behavior with smiles and laughes. Now Jack says it over and over and over.
Blankie is thrown on the ground: "uh-oh".
A little bowl of cheerios is dumped on the floor: "uh-oh."
Anything drops to the floor: "uh-oh".
And it's not one "uh-oh", it's a series of "uh-oh's", each increasingly louder than the first. We got to teach him another saying. Maybe, "Go Irish!"
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Blankie Dilemma
Apparently, Jack is one of the few (if only) children who actually suck on his security object. That darn blankie of his is just digusting- if it doesn't get washed at least every-other day, then it begins to smell like bad breath and hints of mold - not to mention the layers of crumbs that are adhesived to the fabric when Jack puts the thing in his mouth to soon after a meal. What a vile thing that blankie.
Today, Auntie (daycare lady) asked if I had washed Jack's blanket. She was blantantly shocked that I hadn't - I left feeling like one of the lowly germs clinging to the corner of blankie, sure that my son was exposing all the other kids to a bevy of viruses and more cat hairs than they've ever seen. I called Auntie back an hour later, feeling both defensive and guilty about my son's favorite object- I told her that we would have to make some changes. Blankie needs to become a night-time attatchment only. She told me that she gave Jack a recieving blanket with nap - that he wasn't too happy, but fall asleep just fine. I realized that I have no idea what taking away his blanket will do to him- if it will make him hate daycare - dread it and feel completely insecure- or if it won't be a big deal and he'll recover just fine. I wish someone would tell me.
Anyway, next week begins phase one of blankie separation. I hate this - I want Jack to have what he wants and to enjoy all the pleasures of life, and don't want him to deal with any pain, but I also don't want a kid who ends up privleged, spoiled, and, well, with no backbone. The blankie dilemma is just the beginning of dealing with such complex parenting issues - next week it will be the bullies at school.
Ugh.
Today, Auntie (daycare lady) asked if I had washed Jack's blanket. She was blantantly shocked that I hadn't - I left feeling like one of the lowly germs clinging to the corner of blankie, sure that my son was exposing all the other kids to a bevy of viruses and more cat hairs than they've ever seen. I called Auntie back an hour later, feeling both defensive and guilty about my son's favorite object- I told her that we would have to make some changes. Blankie needs to become a night-time attatchment only. She told me that she gave Jack a recieving blanket with nap - that he wasn't too happy, but fall asleep just fine. I realized that I have no idea what taking away his blanket will do to him- if it will make him hate daycare - dread it and feel completely insecure- or if it won't be a big deal and he'll recover just fine. I wish someone would tell me.
Anyway, next week begins phase one of blankie separation. I hate this - I want Jack to have what he wants and to enjoy all the pleasures of life, and don't want him to deal with any pain, but I also don't want a kid who ends up privleged, spoiled, and, well, with no backbone. The blankie dilemma is just the beginning of dealing with such complex parenting issues - next week it will be the bullies at school.
Ugh.
Friday, November 04, 2005
Why does going to the doctor hurt?
This must be the question Jack was asking himself this morning. 15th month check up today and Jack needed 4 shots. Ouch.
You can imagine what this must be like for Jack: [cue wavy scene change] "Hey this is a new place, oh what's this, some kind of tank with fish in it....ok, Mom and Dad with me, good, I'm ok. Hmmm, Dad sure is being nice to me. What's that paperwork Mom is filling out? Lots of people smiling at me. Ok, bye-bye fishy's. Now where we going? Ok, into this room. Take my clothes off? Who's this lady? Hey, there's flowers on the walls, cool. Why am I being measured? I don't want lay on that bench - Hmmm, back in Mommy's arms, now Daddy's- no Mommy's, that's better. Who's this guy? Why are looking in my ears? Hey, what are those little bottles? And what's with those sticks? Mommy looks tense. Hey, why are you - ah CRAP that HURT!!"
Not that our Jack would ever say, "ah crap". You know, I wonder where our discomfort of hospitals come from. Maybe this is it. No more shots until Jack is four. That's what we were told. He's all caught up. But four years old?! Good lord, I can't imagine what a four-year old Jack will look like. Well, I have some idea.
You can imagine what this must be like for Jack: [cue wavy scene change] "Hey this is a new place, oh what's this, some kind of tank with fish in it....ok, Mom and Dad with me, good, I'm ok. Hmmm, Dad sure is being nice to me. What's that paperwork Mom is filling out? Lots of people smiling at me. Ok, bye-bye fishy's. Now where we going? Ok, into this room. Take my clothes off? Who's this lady? Hey, there's flowers on the walls, cool. Why am I being measured? I don't want lay on that bench - Hmmm, back in Mommy's arms, now Daddy's- no Mommy's, that's better. Who's this guy? Why are looking in my ears? Hey, what are those little bottles? And what's with those sticks? Mommy looks tense. Hey, why are you - ah CRAP that HURT!!"
Not that our Jack would ever say, "ah crap". You know, I wonder where our discomfort of hospitals come from. Maybe this is it. No more shots until Jack is four. That's what we were told. He's all caught up. But four years old?! Good lord, I can't imagine what a four-year old Jack will look like. Well, I have some idea.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
"Aye, Matey, May I Take Your Order?"
I finally downloaded the Halloween pics. Jack's been sick the last two days with a cold (and a nasty cough/croup at night). I took on some of the germs myself today, sacked out on the couch while Jack alone played pretty well with PBS in the background (all day, mind you- he reached his monthly television quota by 4:00 p.m.).
The kid did great trick or treating - mostly because it involved his favorite outdoor activity - climbing up and down slopes or stairs (the other day I was clearning up the front porch, turned around and witnessed Jack's first solo steps down the stairs. I mean reall, how much am I coddling this kid?). Once he figured out that the stairs led to actual PEOPLE and then CANDY, well, he couldn't get enough. It took us about 30 minutes to walk up our side of the street, and then turn around. We hit about half a dozen houses, give or take- it was all quite quaint. I came home with the urge to watch "Meet Me In St. Louis," particularly the autumn/Halloween parts (of course).
Enjoy the pictures (that's not necessarily an order. I just realized Jack looks a bit smug in all of them- could be he's acting the pirate part, or more likely, he's tired from the time change and cranky from a snotty nose). We do realize that his pirate outfit is practically a TGIFriday's waiter outfit without the *flair* (unless you count the skull and crossbones belt).
The kid did great trick or treating - mostly because it involved his favorite outdoor activity - climbing up and down slopes or stairs (the other day I was clearning up the front porch, turned around and witnessed Jack's first solo steps down the stairs. I mean reall, how much am I coddling this kid?). Once he figured out that the stairs led to actual PEOPLE and then CANDY, well, he couldn't get enough. It took us about 30 minutes to walk up our side of the street, and then turn around. We hit about half a dozen houses, give or take- it was all quite quaint. I came home with the urge to watch "Meet Me In St. Louis," particularly the autumn/Halloween parts (of course).
Enjoy the pictures (that's not necessarily an order. I just realized Jack looks a bit smug in all of them- could be he's acting the pirate part, or more likely, he's tired from the time change and cranky from a snotty nose). We do realize that his pirate outfit is practically a TGIFriday's waiter outfit without the *flair* (unless you count the skull and crossbones belt).
Friday, October 28, 2005
Extrovert
Last night we visited our next door neighbors- the ones who have degrees from Notre Dame, and, subsequently, watch the Irish football games on T.V. Ed enjoys their company. As do I. I didn't realize, though, just how much Jack enjoyed their company. Erik had invited us over for mass and dinner (he works at a church and has a strong tie to the catholic community here; apparently everyone takes turns each week to have a mass at home). Everything started at 7:00- just about the time Jack is winding down for bed, but we thought we'd head over a bit early, say hello, and head home before Jack got too tired and/or started babbling during the liturgy. At 6:30, I asked Jack if he wanted to go over to Erik's house and say "hi." The little man immediately walked expectantly to the door, turned around and looked at me as if to say, "well, let's go!"
I've mentioned before how much Jack enjoys social outings. If he's particularly grumpy, but not yet tired, and we have some money in the checking account, we'll head out to dinner where he'll flirt with the waitresses, talk with any willing listener, and *poof* he's in a better mood. Such behavior is alien to Ed and I for the most part. Growing up, I gained strength from sitting in my room, redecorating the Barbie house or reorganizing all my stuff. In grade school, Ed dreaded being asked to take a note to the secretary in the school office- or anything that would involve him having to deal in any small way with anyone outside of his small, familiar surroundings. This isn't to say that Ed and I are hermits; in fact, we are currently on the prowl for a babysitter so we can FINALLY go out and enjoy ourselves. As with most folks, our introvert side balanced itself over the years. Ultimately, though, we both gain energy from retreat, not advance.
Jack, on the other hand, as I've said, THRIVES around other people. Last night, at Erik's house, we were sitting in the living room. Jill, Erik's roommate and Christine, Erik's friend from South Bend, Ed & I were engaging in pleasant conversation. Jack, a bit shy, at first (so, yes, he is our son), kept throwing me the ball the Erik was trying to get him to play catch with. Within five minutes, though, Jack suddenly started performing what could only be some novice form of breakdancing. Seriously. Standing up, he'd lean over, put his right hand on the floor, turn around his hand, his body would follow and then land on all fours, having spun 360 degrees. Then squeal. The five of us laughed, not realizing the affect our response would have; Jack continued to show his new move, throwing in some genuine spins on both feet, and wait for applause. After that, he was walking around the dining room, taking wheat thins from Erik in the kitchen, hardly aware of where WE were, and babbling up a storm to anyone or anything that he thought might be interested (read: he wouldn't shut up).
Where did he get this extrovert temperament? My mom maybe? Who knows. It's fun to watch. And it will be interesting to see how it evolves. By the time he's five, Jack will have more friends than Ed or I together. I can just see it now- we head downtown some Saturday weekened and Jack waves hello to every other kid in a stroller, making playdates, wondering why his parents don't go out more often.
I've mentioned before how much Jack enjoys social outings. If he's particularly grumpy, but not yet tired, and we have some money in the checking account, we'll head out to dinner where he'll flirt with the waitresses, talk with any willing listener, and *poof* he's in a better mood. Such behavior is alien to Ed and I for the most part. Growing up, I gained strength from sitting in my room, redecorating the Barbie house or reorganizing all my stuff. In grade school, Ed dreaded being asked to take a note to the secretary in the school office- or anything that would involve him having to deal in any small way with anyone outside of his small, familiar surroundings. This isn't to say that Ed and I are hermits; in fact, we are currently on the prowl for a babysitter so we can FINALLY go out and enjoy ourselves. As with most folks, our introvert side balanced itself over the years. Ultimately, though, we both gain energy from retreat, not advance.
Jack, on the other hand, as I've said, THRIVES around other people. Last night, at Erik's house, we were sitting in the living room. Jill, Erik's roommate and Christine, Erik's friend from South Bend, Ed & I were engaging in pleasant conversation. Jack, a bit shy, at first (so, yes, he is our son), kept throwing me the ball the Erik was trying to get him to play catch with. Within five minutes, though, Jack suddenly started performing what could only be some novice form of breakdancing. Seriously. Standing up, he'd lean over, put his right hand on the floor, turn around his hand, his body would follow and then land on all fours, having spun 360 degrees. Then squeal. The five of us laughed, not realizing the affect our response would have; Jack continued to show his new move, throwing in some genuine spins on both feet, and wait for applause. After that, he was walking around the dining room, taking wheat thins from Erik in the kitchen, hardly aware of where WE were, and babbling up a storm to anyone or anything that he thought might be interested (read: he wouldn't shut up).
Where did he get this extrovert temperament? My mom maybe? Who knows. It's fun to watch. And it will be interesting to see how it evolves. By the time he's five, Jack will have more friends than Ed or I together. I can just see it now- we head downtown some Saturday weekened and Jack waves hello to every other kid in a stroller, making playdates, wondering why his parents don't go out more often.
Thursday, October 20, 2005
Go! Go! Go!
Jack turned 15 months old the older day. It was the first 'month' birthday that I wasn't aware of on the actual day. I HAVE BEEN aware that Jack hasn't been using many words - well, recognizable words; he chatters all the time, often preaching to us, other kids, or to the sidewalk.
He has said "apple" once and a few months ago sputtered an "all done." Since then, he's muttered mama and dada indescriminately - never actually calling us by name. But, that's it. I started re-reading Martha Beck's "Expecting Adam" the other night. In her memoir, Beck talks about her children, including her 18-month old who talks - even speaks short sentences. All I can think is, hell, Jack's only three months away from 18 months and he has yet to put word to its object.
Not that I'm worried, of course. I'm definitely am not the kind of parent to worry about someone else's general standards for development (well, maybe a little bit).
The real reason I'm not so worried is that tonight Jack figured out a word and said it again and again- repeating it after us. One of his new favorite things is to squeal at the stoplights because of Dr. Suess' book, "Go Dogs Go!" For those of you not familiar with the book, there are two lines that Jack loves: "Stop dogs stop the light is red," and "Go dogs go it's green ahead." At every stop light we say the first line and when it turns green - guess what we say then. Jack loves it. Tonight he was saying something that sounded like "toe" but when Ed repeated "go" I turned around to see Jack trying to form his mouth to say "go" and his "toe" started to sound like "go" (or "tgo"). He said it again and again, with each green light, and after Ed would say it. He NEVER repeats words that we say - almost a kind of "yeah, I know the word, and you know the word so why put on a show?" attitude, which, frankly I can understand. But tonight, it was as if he figured out he could control his own mouth to say a word. And he was clearly happy about it.
I tell you, it was pretty cool.
He has said "apple" once and a few months ago sputtered an "all done." Since then, he's muttered mama and dada indescriminately - never actually calling us by name. But, that's it. I started re-reading Martha Beck's "Expecting Adam" the other night. In her memoir, Beck talks about her children, including her 18-month old who talks - even speaks short sentences. All I can think is, hell, Jack's only three months away from 18 months and he has yet to put word to its object.
Not that I'm worried, of course. I'm definitely am not the kind of parent to worry about someone else's general standards for development (well, maybe a little bit).
The real reason I'm not so worried is that tonight Jack figured out a word and said it again and again- repeating it after us. One of his new favorite things is to squeal at the stoplights because of Dr. Suess' book, "Go Dogs Go!" For those of you not familiar with the book, there are two lines that Jack loves: "Stop dogs stop the light is red," and "Go dogs go it's green ahead." At every stop light we say the first line and when it turns green - guess what we say then. Jack loves it. Tonight he was saying something that sounded like "toe" but when Ed repeated "go" I turned around to see Jack trying to form his mouth to say "go" and his "toe" started to sound like "go" (or "tgo"). He said it again and again, with each green light, and after Ed would say it. He NEVER repeats words that we say - almost a kind of "yeah, I know the word, and you know the word so why put on a show?" attitude, which, frankly I can understand. But tonight, it was as if he figured out he could control his own mouth to say a word. And he was clearly happy about it.
I tell you, it was pretty cool.
Friday, October 14, 2005
Yet Another Reason to Forego the Paternity Test
So, Jack's been cranky this week- spiked a fever of 103 degrees the other night. Today, the fever is down, but he's been hitting his head against the floor and getting pissed off pretty easy. He's either teething, experiencing his first ear infection, having a growth spurt (he inhaled lunch and dinner), or more than likely - some combination of all three.
After returning home from a walk in the rain to change the scenery (and to eat a mum petal from someone's flower basket) , Jack tore into his boca cheeseburger for dinner. About two bites in he grabbed his hair with a ketchup coated grip. I reacted by reaching over to scratch his head to avoid a blob of condiment that I wasn't willing to wash out in the tub. As any one in Ed's family knows - or as anyone well acquainted with Ed's family, the insatiable desire to be scratched is more than prevelant. I've spent at least 1/4 of my married life scratching Ed's back, his head, behind his knee, his big toe (yes). I'm not exaggerating here. Anyway, Jack loved the scratches; when I took my hand away, he grabbed it and then put it back on top of his head to continue what Ed has dubbed "the circle of scratch."
Tonight while playing on "mommy and daddy's" bed before Jack's bedtime, I tried the circle head scratch on Jack to show Ed. Once again, the little guy returned my hand to his head when I thought I was finished.
Ed looked over, slightly proud that this indeed was his son, but also perturbed that his own scratches are now having to be shared.
After returning home from a walk in the rain to change the scenery (and to eat a mum petal from someone's flower basket) , Jack tore into his boca cheeseburger for dinner. About two bites in he grabbed his hair with a ketchup coated grip. I reacted by reaching over to scratch his head to avoid a blob of condiment that I wasn't willing to wash out in the tub. As any one in Ed's family knows - or as anyone well acquainted with Ed's family, the insatiable desire to be scratched is more than prevelant. I've spent at least 1/4 of my married life scratching Ed's back, his head, behind his knee, his big toe (yes). I'm not exaggerating here. Anyway, Jack loved the scratches; when I took my hand away, he grabbed it and then put it back on top of his head to continue what Ed has dubbed "the circle of scratch."
Tonight while playing on "mommy and daddy's" bed before Jack's bedtime, I tried the circle head scratch on Jack to show Ed. Once again, the little guy returned my hand to his head when I thought I was finished.
Ed looked over, slightly proud that this indeed was his son, but also perturbed that his own scratches are now having to be shared.
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Growing with the Changing Seasons
Jack's been quite busy lately- trying to keep up with his busy parents. Somehow, we're managing to document some of his latest "things." Among them, a love (surprise) for ice cream cones, a somewhat obsessive attachment to the swifter cleaning aparatus, and, of course, jumpin in the puddles. Photos, as they say, speak volumes, so you can see the visuals below. What can't be caught on camera is that not ten minutes after I explained to Ed my worry about the fact that Jack barely uses ma-ma and da-da (and hardly ever uses them to talk to us), the kid busts out with "tick-tock" from his car seat after seeing a big clock (duH) on some building.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)