Sometimes I suspect this blog comes off like everything is great. And for the most part, it is, because Jack just makes me happy, and makes me laugh, a lot of the time.
But not always. Sometimes, in fact, it's tough. For example....
- I don't always know what he's saying. After I wrote the blog entry below, for example, I learned that "Why Do" is actually him asking for WATER. Oops. So when we're eating dinner and he's gesturing at something on the table which I can't imagine what he possibly means, and he's saying "Bit tay!" or something similar, and getting frustrated and upset when I have no idea what he's talking about, but suspect it's something (a beer, the car keys, a metal candleholder) that I wouldn't want him to have anyway....well, that can be difficult. It usually ends in my giving him a selection of things I DO want him to have - his food, his milk, my food, the plastic ketchup bottle - which he shoves away with a "No...!" as if, good grief Daddy, why can't you figure out that I want you to give me the can opener? Yeah, that's not so much fun.
- He has been known to get cranky. This typically happens when he hasn't gotten enough sleep, or his food and/or drink isn't getting to him quickly enough, but whatever the cause, he sometimes gets upset. Maybe I don't want him playing with the house keys anymore right before bed, or I don't want him to go outside at 7 at night in his pajamas, or I want him to eat something besides fruit. Sometimes there doesn't even appear to be a reason. One second he wants cheese, I give him cheese, and he throws it on the floor in dismay. Then he wants it back. So...is he upset because he wanted cheese or because he didn't want cheese? Good question. Two minutes later he'll be happily munching on cheese, the moment forgotten.
- Sometimes the things he most wants to do aren't things we want him to do. (Shocking, I know.) Like playing outside when it's 98 degrees. Or watching "The Backyardigans" on Noggin for a third time. Or wash his hands for the umpteenth time. Or carry his step stool out back for who knows what reason. Or grab Charlie's tail. Minor stuff, for the most part, but when you manage to stop him from doing one thing he shouldn't be doing and he immediately starts doing the thing you stopped him from doing 5 minutes earlier....Sigh.
- Often when I'm changing his diaper, he acts like it's some tremendous affront to his person - and not something we've done every several hours every day of his life. Another good one is getting dressed in the morning; most of the time he's fine, but then there are days when he just wails, as if, again, it's not something we do every single morning, and have done every day of his life. Well Jack, I can't let you run outside naked except for the extremely full diaper you've been wearing since last night, can I? That question seldom resonates with him.
And that's about it. I can't think of anything else to complain about. I think that makes about 796 great things about Jack, 4 not so great. That's a ratio I can live with, so next time we'll go back to stories of him laughing in hysterics as I turn him upside down or toss him in the air, as happened just yesterday. It was a day like any other, and.....
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Why Do?
Frequently when we put Jack down for bed at night, he knows it's time. He lies down flat on his stomach, or lifts his little butt up into the air, closes his eyes, and ultimately sleeps. Sure, there are the occasional delays - Jack babbling contentedly to himself, or liberating his stuffed animals from the crib - but gradually he's silent, asleep.
Then there are nights like tonight, when for whatever reason, he doesn't want to sleep. He runs out into the living room in the middle of story time, he heads for the back stairs or the front window....the other night he ran out to the kitchen and asked for "shirryal?" And on some of those nights when we do put him down in the crib, he cries. Usually this turns into sleep within a minute or two, because he's exhausted, but sometimes he wails loudly, as though betrayed, and we'll go in, and soothe him, and usually he'll see us, too tired to even sit up, and sleep.
Tonight I went in, shortly after Emily had put him down, and gone in herself, because he was still crying. And as I soothed him - he was too tired to even sit up - he said, "Why do? Why do?"
Now we know a lot of what Jack means when he says things, like "Peeez!" is "Please," and "Shirryal" is Cereal, and "Mawk-muh" is milk -- why he's turned a one-syllable word into a much more difficult two-syllable one is beyond us. But "Why do?", I have no idea.
I hope he's not saying "Why do you put me to bed now? I want to read and run and laugh and play more! Let's go run around the backyard with the basketball, or go see the Teddies down the street, or maybe catch a few minutes of The Backyardigans show we have on TiVo. Why do you put me to bed? Why do?" It's probably just me thinking that.
But just in case he is saying that, I'll try to make sure he gets his fill of all those activities -- all of which, I should add, we did repeatedly today -- tomorrow. And the next day, and....
Then there are nights like tonight, when for whatever reason, he doesn't want to sleep. He runs out into the living room in the middle of story time, he heads for the back stairs or the front window....the other night he ran out to the kitchen and asked for "shirryal?" And on some of those nights when we do put him down in the crib, he cries. Usually this turns into sleep within a minute or two, because he's exhausted, but sometimes he wails loudly, as though betrayed, and we'll go in, and soothe him, and usually he'll see us, too tired to even sit up, and sleep.
Tonight I went in, shortly after Emily had put him down, and gone in herself, because he was still crying. And as I soothed him - he was too tired to even sit up - he said, "Why do? Why do?"
Now we know a lot of what Jack means when he says things, like "Peeez!" is "Please," and "Shirryal" is Cereal, and "Mawk-muh" is milk -- why he's turned a one-syllable word into a much more difficult two-syllable one is beyond us. But "Why do?", I have no idea.
I hope he's not saying "Why do you put me to bed now? I want to read and run and laugh and play more! Let's go run around the backyard with the basketball, or go see the Teddies down the street, or maybe catch a few minutes of The Backyardigans show we have on TiVo. Why do you put me to bed? Why do?" It's probably just me thinking that.
But just in case he is saying that, I'll try to make sure he gets his fill of all those activities -- all of which, I should add, we did repeatedly today -- tomorrow. And the next day, and....
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Funny Jack
Just a few things that make me laugh...
Jack says "hot" a lot, either about his food, or the weather, or the patio stones out back on a warm day. He hasn't always known what it means, I think, since he says it when he gets cold things, too, like a cold glass of milk. He says, "hot," and holds a hand up and makes side to side motions with it, as you might if you think a film was so-so. "Hot," he says. "Hot."
He likes to say "sit," and this one he knows what it means. "Sit" when he wants to sit in a chair. Frequently "sit" when he wants to sit in YOUR chair, which sometimes means sit in your lap, and sometimes means, move. And when you move, and he sits there, he indicates another chair, where he wants you to sit. "Sit," he says. "Sit."
We don't watch a ton of TV with him, but we do watch a little Noggin, which includes Jack's Big Music Show (yes, it's actually called that) and the various songs by the "host," this yellow animated Moose who I believe is called Moose A. Moose. Anyway, at the end of the day they do a "Goodbye Song," and he loves it (I do too), and he waves goodbye and says goodbye, and then when it ends, he says "En!", which I take to mean "Again!" because we have TiVo and can rewind and play it again. Which we do, and then he say "En!" again, and we watch it again. And he waves goodbye, and if we're lucky he smiles and bounces and kind of dances in place. It's a fun tune.
He calls Charlie, our dog, "Teddy." He also calls other dogs "Teddies." Like, the Irish Setters down the street, that he starts walking over to see. "Teddy," he says. "Teddy." I don't know why.
But it's funny, every time, every day.
Jack says "hot" a lot, either about his food, or the weather, or the patio stones out back on a warm day. He hasn't always known what it means, I think, since he says it when he gets cold things, too, like a cold glass of milk. He says, "hot," and holds a hand up and makes side to side motions with it, as you might if you think a film was so-so. "Hot," he says. "Hot."
He likes to say "sit," and this one he knows what it means. "Sit" when he wants to sit in a chair. Frequently "sit" when he wants to sit in YOUR chair, which sometimes means sit in your lap, and sometimes means, move. And when you move, and he sits there, he indicates another chair, where he wants you to sit. "Sit," he says. "Sit."
We don't watch a ton of TV with him, but we do watch a little Noggin, which includes Jack's Big Music Show (yes, it's actually called that) and the various songs by the "host," this yellow animated Moose who I believe is called Moose A. Moose. Anyway, at the end of the day they do a "Goodbye Song," and he loves it (I do too), and he waves goodbye and says goodbye, and then when it ends, he says "En!", which I take to mean "Again!" because we have TiVo and can rewind and play it again. Which we do, and then he say "En!" again, and we watch it again. And he waves goodbye, and if we're lucky he smiles and bounces and kind of dances in place. It's a fun tune.
He calls Charlie, our dog, "Teddy." He also calls other dogs "Teddies." Like, the Irish Setters down the street, that he starts walking over to see. "Teddy," he says. "Teddy." I don't know why.
But it's funny, every time, every day.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Anmals!
Jack talking never ceases to be enjoyable. He has this book called "Goodnight Gorilla," in which a zookeeper goes around saying good night to all the animals in the zoo, while the monkey (gorilla, I guess, but he's a little guy) steals his keys and goes around behind him letting out all the animals. He lets out the - if memory serves - elephant, lion, giraffe, hyena, and armadillo.
There aren't many words in the book, mostly pictures; the only words are the zookeeper saying good night to each animal. So I do most of the talking, keeping a running monologue as I read the book. "Oh, he's letting out the elephant. Jack, can you say elephant?"
Jack: "Effant!"
Me: "That's right, Elephant. Oh, he's letting out the lion. Jack, can you say lion?"
Jack: "Line!"
Me: "That's right, Lion. Now he's letting out the giraffe. Jack, can you say giraffe?"
Jack: "Raff!"
Me: "Hyena?"
Jack: "Hine!"
Me: "Armadillo?"
Jack: "Ah Dill!"
Me: "And what about monkey?"
Jack: "Muh!"
A lot of fun.
There aren't many words in the book, mostly pictures; the only words are the zookeeper saying good night to each animal. So I do most of the talking, keeping a running monologue as I read the book. "Oh, he's letting out the elephant. Jack, can you say elephant?"
Jack: "Effant!"
Me: "That's right, Elephant. Oh, he's letting out the lion. Jack, can you say lion?"
Jack: "Line!"
Me: "That's right, Lion. Now he's letting out the giraffe. Jack, can you say giraffe?"
Jack: "Raff!"
Me: "Hyena?"
Jack: "Hine!"
Me: "Armadillo?"
Jack: "Ah Dill!"
Me: "And what about monkey?"
Jack: "Muh!"
A lot of fun.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
Hoop Dreams
Jack really likes playing outside, and because I was a little tired of seeing him battle Charlie for tennis balls and do little more than climb in and out of patio furniture, I decided it was time to get him another backyard toy. Granted he's been kind of enjoying the slide of late, which is fun, but I wanted him to have something new.
So it was that we zipped off to Toys'R'Us this morning to find him something to launch his career in sports. Since this isn't about me, I won't dwell on my own sports background, beyond saying that the one sport I never showed the slightest proficiency in -- or for that matter great interest in -- was basketball. Naturally, I got him a child's basketball hoop.
The reasoning was simple: getting a 17-month old a golf club or baseball bat and expecting him to hit a ball with it seemed overly optimistic. In the first place there are plenty of grown men and women who can't achieve such a thing even now, and in the second place, Jack loses patience with a spoon or other utensil just a few bites into his meal, casting it aside in order to work with his hands directly. I'm sure he'd do the same with a golf club, at least at this point.
(While at Toys'R'Us, of course, we also got a dinosaur puzzle, which he loved and instantly proved that he does in fact know the world puzzle, and a step stool so he could wash his hands at the sink. The stool he proceeded to carry around with him for the next hour or so until we managed to distract him and hide the thing back in the bathroom, where it lives until he finds it again.)
So during his nap I set up the hoop, and that afternoon we went outside. I showed him the hoop, gave him the mini basketball, and he immediately carried the ball over to the hoop and dunked the thing, proving he's either a basketball prodigy and we'll all be millionaires when he's the top pick in the NBA Draft at age 18, or else they have one of these things at day care.
In any case, he spent the next hour or so dunking the ball, watching it bound away across the yard after bouncing off the base, chasing it down, bringing it back to the hoop, and dunking it again. I alternated beaming with joy and making sure my very interested dog didn't seize the ball and puncture it as it rolled across the back patio. (We got some good work in on "leave it!")
Jack and I are a long way from heading up to Washington Park and challenging a couple of toughs to a game of 2-on-2, but it was great to see him quickly adapting to the sport, and reassuring to think he'd have a new toy to be interested in for the next week and a half. At which point I'll go out and get him that child's golfing set, because you never know. Maybe he HADN'T ever seen a basketball hoop before, and just had some innate athletic ability that will carry him through his childhood and on to fame and fortune in the Olympics. And maybe, just maybe, the first time he sees a golf club and ball he'll be hitting them onto the highway a mile away. Look out, Tiger Woods: you may be chasing Jack (Nicklaus), but another Jack might one day be chasing you.
So it was that we zipped off to Toys'R'Us this morning to find him something to launch his career in sports. Since this isn't about me, I won't dwell on my own sports background, beyond saying that the one sport I never showed the slightest proficiency in -- or for that matter great interest in -- was basketball. Naturally, I got him a child's basketball hoop.
The reasoning was simple: getting a 17-month old a golf club or baseball bat and expecting him to hit a ball with it seemed overly optimistic. In the first place there are plenty of grown men and women who can't achieve such a thing even now, and in the second place, Jack loses patience with a spoon or other utensil just a few bites into his meal, casting it aside in order to work with his hands directly. I'm sure he'd do the same with a golf club, at least at this point.
(While at Toys'R'Us, of course, we also got a dinosaur puzzle, which he loved and instantly proved that he does in fact know the world puzzle, and a step stool so he could wash his hands at the sink. The stool he proceeded to carry around with him for the next hour or so until we managed to distract him and hide the thing back in the bathroom, where it lives until he finds it again.)
So during his nap I set up the hoop, and that afternoon we went outside. I showed him the hoop, gave him the mini basketball, and he immediately carried the ball over to the hoop and dunked the thing, proving he's either a basketball prodigy and we'll all be millionaires when he's the top pick in the NBA Draft at age 18, or else they have one of these things at day care.
In any case, he spent the next hour or so dunking the ball, watching it bound away across the yard after bouncing off the base, chasing it down, bringing it back to the hoop, and dunking it again. I alternated beaming with joy and making sure my very interested dog didn't seize the ball and puncture it as it rolled across the back patio. (We got some good work in on "leave it!")
Jack and I are a long way from heading up to Washington Park and challenging a couple of toughs to a game of 2-on-2, but it was great to see him quickly adapting to the sport, and reassuring to think he'd have a new toy to be interested in for the next week and a half. At which point I'll go out and get him that child's golfing set, because you never know. Maybe he HADN'T ever seen a basketball hoop before, and just had some innate athletic ability that will carry him through his childhood and on to fame and fortune in the Olympics. And maybe, just maybe, the first time he sees a golf club and ball he'll be hitting them onto the highway a mile away. Look out, Tiger Woods: you may be chasing Jack (Nicklaus), but another Jack might one day be chasing you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
