Jack and I went out Christmas shopping today. Christmas decorations shopping, really. Jack has kind of a love-fear relationship with Santa. He was afraid of Santa last year, when we tried to get his picture taken, an incident that was probably partially our fault. He just wasn't ready. Now we've talked up Santa, and our neighbor -- who had a huge inflatable pumpkin at Halloween, a huge inflatable turkey at Thanksgiving, and now a huge inflatable Frosty the Snowman, Christmas tree, and Santa Claus on his lawn -- has this big Santa that Jack is fascinated by.
So we went to Party City and bought a stuffed Santa for Jack, a Santa hat, and a series of window decorations -- Santa Claus, Frosty, reindeer pulling a sleigh. Jack approved and was very attentive as the clerk put them in the bag.
On the way home we went over to Aunt Cathy's, and I brought Jack inside, but he was very out of sorts, and kept saying things like "On floor" and "Santa," and it was all fairly confusing. But gradually we figured out he wanted to go back out to the car, where the bag of stuff was indeed, on the floor, and I got everything out and he clutched it all to his chest and under his chin and we went back inside. And showed things individually to Cathy, and Jack of course wanted to wear the hat, and hold the stuffed Santa. At some point I held up the window decoration Frosty, and Jack looked at it and smiled like it was the greatest thing in the world.
Jack, as he saw it: "Oh! NICE!!!!"
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Saturday, November 25, 2006
"Hold you."
Somewhere along the line Jack started expressing himself in complete sentences. And here some of them are.
"I need some more milk." (This is usually expressed with urgency, as if he's dying of thirst and only milk can save him.)
"I need some water." (This tends to be matter of fact, like, hey, I need some water, would you mind?)
"Hold you." Jack has figured out that being carried up and down stairs is easier and faster than actually walking up and down them himself. We may have to work on that in the future.
"Next to you." Jack either is or wants to sit next to you. Variations include "Next to Mommy" and "Next to Daddy."
"What's THAT?" (Explanation follow, e.g., that's a hat, or that's Daddy's coffee, followed by "OHHH!")
"Do puzzle." (Let's do the puzzle.)
"Can't reach it." "Too big." "Heavy." "Happy." "Too fit." Okay, these aren't sentences, but I wanted to write them down anyway.
He's been singing a lot. Verses of songs. "Twinkle, twinkle, little star....How... wonder what you are Up above world so high like ...diamond ...in the sky." And: "Shake .... shake... shake...shake your body." (From the Backyardigans CD.) "Wiggle it. Wobble it. Wiggle it." He still sings Edelweiss with me. "Bloom and grow.... forever... Edelweiss..." And: "I like this song." Me: "You like this song?" Jack: "Yeah!" Although it's partly a question. "Yeah!?"
Sometimes when he's talking he's just happy, other times he's earnest, solemn. Like what he's saying is very important. "No... Daddy sit there." "I need some milk." So on and so forth.
As always, I forget things. There's just too much good stuff in the average day, average week, with Jack, to remember it all. Him running around the park, like yesterday, happily going up and down slides. (Until he'd had enough, of course, at which point it becomes "All finished." And this, too, has urgency, as if to say, I don't want to be on this teeter totter another moment, thank you.
So I keep writing it down, in hopes I'll remember it always.
"I need some more milk." (This is usually expressed with urgency, as if he's dying of thirst and only milk can save him.)
"I need some water." (This tends to be matter of fact, like, hey, I need some water, would you mind?)
"Hold you." Jack has figured out that being carried up and down stairs is easier and faster than actually walking up and down them himself. We may have to work on that in the future.
"Next to you." Jack either is or wants to sit next to you. Variations include "Next to Mommy" and "Next to Daddy."
"What's THAT?" (Explanation follow, e.g., that's a hat, or that's Daddy's coffee, followed by "OHHH!")
"Do puzzle." (Let's do the puzzle.)
"Can't reach it." "Too big." "Heavy." "Happy." "Too fit." Okay, these aren't sentences, but I wanted to write them down anyway.
He's been singing a lot. Verses of songs. "Twinkle, twinkle, little star....How... wonder what you are Up above world so high like ...diamond ...in the sky." And: "Shake .... shake... shake...shake your body." (From the Backyardigans CD.) "Wiggle it. Wobble it. Wiggle it." He still sings Edelweiss with me. "Bloom and grow.... forever... Edelweiss..." And: "I like this song." Me: "You like this song?" Jack: "Yeah!" Although it's partly a question. "Yeah!?"
Sometimes when he's talking he's just happy, other times he's earnest, solemn. Like what he's saying is very important. "No... Daddy sit there." "I need some milk." So on and so forth.
As always, I forget things. There's just too much good stuff in the average day, average week, with Jack, to remember it all. Him running around the park, like yesterday, happily going up and down slides. (Until he'd had enough, of course, at which point it becomes "All finished." And this, too, has urgency, as if to say, I don't want to be on this teeter totter another moment, thank you.
So I keep writing it down, in hopes I'll remember it always.
Thankful
My parents came down for Thanksgiving, and the best thing about it, aside from seeing them and stuff, was that Jack pretty much acted like he'd known them his entire life. He called them Nana and Baba, which is what their Irish grandchildren call them and we've encouraged it both for consistency and to distinguish them from his grandparents on Emily's side. He hugged them good night, they read stories together -- I came out into the living room and my Dad was reading "Thomas the Tank Engine - Thomas helps out" while Jack sat next to him in rapt attention. Dad's got a great reading voice, always did. Soothing. I pretty much just stood there watching for 5 minutes...I could have stayed longer.
Jack looked at pictures and pointed out Nana, Baba, and Aunt Robin, who will be here early in the New Year. In the morning he asked where Nana and Baba were. Two days after they'd gone, today, he said "Nana and Baba go home?" which we had explained to him the previous day.
At Thanksgiving Dinner, at Aunt Cathy's, there were about 18 people, and us, and Jack. And it was quite a change, seeing as in Colorado it was usually us and at most a guest or two - relatives, or a work friend. Certainly not that much family. And Jack was happy.
And even though we've got some stresses and worries and still haven't sold our house and are still trying to adapt fully to our new lives, Jack is happy. And we're thankful for that.
Jack looked at pictures and pointed out Nana, Baba, and Aunt Robin, who will be here early in the New Year. In the morning he asked where Nana and Baba were. Two days after they'd gone, today, he said "Nana and Baba go home?" which we had explained to him the previous day.
At Thanksgiving Dinner, at Aunt Cathy's, there were about 18 people, and us, and Jack. And it was quite a change, seeing as in Colorado it was usually us and at most a guest or two - relatives, or a work friend. Certainly not that much family. And Jack was happy.
And even though we've got some stresses and worries and still haven't sold our house and are still trying to adapt fully to our new lives, Jack is happy. And we're thankful for that.
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Up and Down Jack
I think sometimes we forget how much Jack has been through. Our move across the country was tough on us, but it was even tougher on him, and not because I made him drive (I thought about it) or handle setting up utilities and stuff. (The only thing he says into the phone is "Hi Ekan" and "Hi Grandpa.")
It was tough on Jack because we couldn't fully explain why suddenly he had a brand new room in a brand new house -- temporarily a basement at Aunt Cathy's, then our new rental house here. Why he was being taken out of day care in Colorado, and away from places he was used to going like Benny's and Hanson's. Okay, that might be stuff we miss more than he does, but the point is that there was a routine, it was everything he knew, and it was taken away, and we really couldn't explain it.
I mention this now because Jack had a very tough time at his new day care this past week. He cried when we dropped him off, he cried off and on in the morning, and we were told he cried at other times, and walked around saying "Daddy? Mommy?" Tough to think about, tough to write, and tough because we have to make day care work -- I can't really do my job otherwise -- so we'll be taking him again on Monday morning, and it will probably be hard all over again. So he didn't have a good time at day care, and (perhaps related) he wasn't his happy self most of the week, and he had one just awful night, Thursday, where we were all basically awake from midnight until 4 a.m., trying to soothe him, trying to let him cry it out, trying to sleep ... it was terrible.
The tough thing (among others) is you have to keep telling him how great it is, because it will be, once he gets accustomed to it. They do fun things, they run around, they go down slides in the indoor gym, he makes little friends, so on and so forth. And we need to tell him how great it is while knowing that right now he doesn't really want to be apart from any of us, and so he can't view it as a positive when his first thought is "Where Daddy go? Where Mommy go?" Yeah, it's brutal.
We forget how hard it is, because he is very resilient. As he has proved over the past two days, when he's been his happy self again. This morning we went swimming, and then he went to feed ducks with Grandpa, and apparently he played in leaves, and he came back and was happy, smiling, as happy as he's ever been. Doing all of his little cute things, sitting next to me on the couch and saying "Next to YOU!" And picking up the phone and saying "Hi Grandpa!" even though there's no one on the line, and when we DO have Grandpa on the phone, and put it next to his ear, he tends to say nothing at all, just listens and smiles. And he says "Thank you," in the cutest, sweetest little voice imaginable, and "Do puzzle, Daddy." And we go down in the driveway to play basketball, and he runs around with the happiest smile on his face, bubbling with laughter. It's the same after swimming, when we shower (we do this together, he enjoys it) -- he just laughs up a storm at the water pitter-pattering on his back.
I guess the point is that we forget sometimes that Jack's not always happy, and the hard part is that sometimes we need to do things that he's not going to be happy about. It's hard to do, and hard to live with. We just hope that some of them become things he is happy about, and we can make it work. Even if it's going to be really hard to get there.
It was tough on Jack because we couldn't fully explain why suddenly he had a brand new room in a brand new house -- temporarily a basement at Aunt Cathy's, then our new rental house here. Why he was being taken out of day care in Colorado, and away from places he was used to going like Benny's and Hanson's. Okay, that might be stuff we miss more than he does, but the point is that there was a routine, it was everything he knew, and it was taken away, and we really couldn't explain it.
I mention this now because Jack had a very tough time at his new day care this past week. He cried when we dropped him off, he cried off and on in the morning, and we were told he cried at other times, and walked around saying "Daddy? Mommy?" Tough to think about, tough to write, and tough because we have to make day care work -- I can't really do my job otherwise -- so we'll be taking him again on Monday morning, and it will probably be hard all over again. So he didn't have a good time at day care, and (perhaps related) he wasn't his happy self most of the week, and he had one just awful night, Thursday, where we were all basically awake from midnight until 4 a.m., trying to soothe him, trying to let him cry it out, trying to sleep ... it was terrible.
The tough thing (among others) is you have to keep telling him how great it is, because it will be, once he gets accustomed to it. They do fun things, they run around, they go down slides in the indoor gym, he makes little friends, so on and so forth. And we need to tell him how great it is while knowing that right now he doesn't really want to be apart from any of us, and so he can't view it as a positive when his first thought is "Where Daddy go? Where Mommy go?" Yeah, it's brutal.
We forget how hard it is, because he is very resilient. As he has proved over the past two days, when he's been his happy self again. This morning we went swimming, and then he went to feed ducks with Grandpa, and apparently he played in leaves, and he came back and was happy, smiling, as happy as he's ever been. Doing all of his little cute things, sitting next to me on the couch and saying "Next to YOU!" And picking up the phone and saying "Hi Grandpa!" even though there's no one on the line, and when we DO have Grandpa on the phone, and put it next to his ear, he tends to say nothing at all, just listens and smiles. And he says "Thank you," in the cutest, sweetest little voice imaginable, and "Do puzzle, Daddy." And we go down in the driveway to play basketball, and he runs around with the happiest smile on his face, bubbling with laughter. It's the same after swimming, when we shower (we do this together, he enjoys it) -- he just laughs up a storm at the water pitter-pattering on his back.
I guess the point is that we forget sometimes that Jack's not always happy, and the hard part is that sometimes we need to do things that he's not going to be happy about. It's hard to do, and hard to live with. We just hope that some of them become things he is happy about, and we can make it work. Even if it's going to be really hard to get there.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Other Face
Quick one because I'm tired, but I don't want to forget it.
Jack generally wakes up in the mornings in good spirits -- not always, but generally. He'll be in his crib, taking time occasionally to liberate all of his stuffed animals, and he'll be kind of talking, babbling, and sometimes singing.
Grandma Pat sings to him, when she's putting him down for naps or just busying about the kitchen, and one of the songs she sings, when she's giving him food, say, grapes, is "I...love...grapes...They taste good....I love grapes....They taste good." And Jack occasionally sings it too.
The other morning I could hear him in his crib, singing, singing that song, but rather than a food item, he was including all the people he sees on a regular basis. And so: "I ... love... Aunt Taffy....They taste good. I love Daddy. They taste good. I love Mommy. They...." And there'd be a pause before the name, so it was "I..love... Aunt Taffy. They taste good." And he'd run through almost everyone he knows. "I love Lyndsay. They taste good...." Cracked me up.
The other thing is that Jack likes to hug and kiss us goodnight, which is quite nice, but then lately he's started doing this kiss on each cheek thing, like we're European or something. I crouch down and he kisses one cheek, then moves over and kisses my other cheek. And tonight he added "Other face!" to his routine, so he'd kiss my cheek, say "Other face!" and move my head so he could kiss my other cheek.
And then he'd run off into the next room so Mommy could put him to bed.
Jack generally wakes up in the mornings in good spirits -- not always, but generally. He'll be in his crib, taking time occasionally to liberate all of his stuffed animals, and he'll be kind of talking, babbling, and sometimes singing.
Grandma Pat sings to him, when she's putting him down for naps or just busying about the kitchen, and one of the songs she sings, when she's giving him food, say, grapes, is "I...love...grapes...They taste good....I love grapes....They taste good." And Jack occasionally sings it too.
The other morning I could hear him in his crib, singing, singing that song, but rather than a food item, he was including all the people he sees on a regular basis. And so: "I ... love... Aunt Taffy....They taste good. I love Daddy. They taste good. I love Mommy. They...." And there'd be a pause before the name, so it was "I..love... Aunt Taffy. They taste good." And he'd run through almost everyone he knows. "I love Lyndsay. They taste good...." Cracked me up.
The other thing is that Jack likes to hug and kiss us goodnight, which is quite nice, but then lately he's started doing this kiss on each cheek thing, like we're European or something. I crouch down and he kisses one cheek, then moves over and kisses my other cheek. And tonight he added "Other face!" to his routine, so he'd kiss my cheek, say "Other face!" and move my head so he could kiss my other cheek.
And then he'd run off into the next room so Mommy could put him to bed.
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