Jack's been waking up too early a lot of morning. Sometimes I think Kate wakes him up, sometimes it's cold (he kicks the covers off), whatever. This morning he woke up around 5, we put him back in bed, he got up 20 minutes later, etc. Finally I got up with him, went downstairs, made coffee, watched Red Sox highlights (Sox win). Later there was some kind of meltdown -- I think he wanted more raspberries, or he didn't want milk, or some other kind of thing that only would upset him if he, you know, woke up around 5. He wailed a lot.
Anyway, so he and I are eating breakfast, which is to say, I'm guzzling coffee and he's eating raspberries and cheerios. Emily comes downstairs, and she looks at Jack, says Hi, and then: "Jack....what was the matter this morning? What was the problem?"
Jack looks at her, still shoveling in raspberries. He pauses, then raises a fist in the air.
Jack: "Red Sox win!"
Friday, October 26, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Excitement
Jack burst into the door this afternoon. "Daddy, LOOK!" He was waving a piece of black construction paper that had little jack-0-lanterns and other Halloween stuff glued onto it. "Look at THIS. It's a pumpkin....and a pumpkin....and a ghost. And a pumpkin!" I said, Wow, Jack, did you make this? "YEAH!" Well, it's great, I said.
Later, I asked him if he wanted to put it on the fridge. Silence. Fridgerator? "Oh! YEAH!" He grabbed it and ran off to the kitchen. We put it on, and he took the magnets off of everything else on the fridge to use all 20 or so of them to hold it up. He's thorough.
Later, I asked him if he wanted to put it on the fridge. Silence. Fridgerator? "Oh! YEAH!" He grabbed it and ran off to the kitchen. We put it on, and he took the magnets off of everything else on the fridge to use all 20 or so of them to hold it up. He's thorough.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
The Cherry Man
I'm too tired to remember all of the funny things involving Jack in the last few weeks. What's great is that he actually makes jokes -- says and does things that he knows are funny. And he merges different things and comments and so that he'll be telling a story that gets funnier because he's mixing something we talked about earlier with something we read in a book with a Backyardigans episode.
So the one I'll remember for now is just that there was this big construction site truck with a crane on top of it and a basket at the end of the crane for a guy to stand in. And I would have had no idea what to call the thing, obviously, except Jack has a book with a picture of a construction site, and they call that truck a "Cherry Picker." So I told Jack that, and he repeats it. "Cherry picker."
The next day we're at his school, day care, and I'm dropping him off. Out the windows, across the street, there's all this construction going on. And what do we see? Of course: a cherry picker. Jack runs to the window, as does this other kid, Teddy, and they stand on little chairs to look out. And Jack says, "What is the cherry man doing?" And the crane start going up higher into the sky. And Jack's all, "Oh! Look!" (He kind of says "yook," which is very cute.) "The cherry man is going up into the sky!" And then: "Yeah! He's going WAYYYYYYYY up there." Finally I left, while they were still marveling at the cherry picker.
I guess I've got one more story, which is that I picked him up the next afternoon, and it was a gray day, so they were inside (normally they're in the playground if it's nice). I walk into the room and I see him over at this little low table, kind of leaning over it, talking to other kids. Funny; it was like he was in high school or something. Anyway, he sees me out of the corner of his eye or something, and runs over -- he has a little, it looks like part of a book in his hand. There are pictures on it of various insects, spiders, frogs, that kind of thing. "Daddy, look!" he says. "A spider! And a, a....what's this thing?" I say, that's a beetle, Jack. And he says, "Oh! A beetle!" And then he points at another one: "And what's that?" That's a bee, I say. And he says, "Oh! A BEE! And he will STING me! Don't sting me, bee!"
Just something about Jack easily transitioning from talking to other kids to talking with me to talking with a picture of a bee. It's good stuff.
So the one I'll remember for now is just that there was this big construction site truck with a crane on top of it and a basket at the end of the crane for a guy to stand in. And I would have had no idea what to call the thing, obviously, except Jack has a book with a picture of a construction site, and they call that truck a "Cherry Picker." So I told Jack that, and he repeats it. "Cherry picker."
The next day we're at his school, day care, and I'm dropping him off. Out the windows, across the street, there's all this construction going on. And what do we see? Of course: a cherry picker. Jack runs to the window, as does this other kid, Teddy, and they stand on little chairs to look out. And Jack says, "What is the cherry man doing?" And the crane start going up higher into the sky. And Jack's all, "Oh! Look!" (He kind of says "yook," which is very cute.) "The cherry man is going up into the sky!" And then: "Yeah! He's going WAYYYYYYYY up there." Finally I left, while they were still marveling at the cherry picker.
I guess I've got one more story, which is that I picked him up the next afternoon, and it was a gray day, so they were inside (normally they're in the playground if it's nice). I walk into the room and I see him over at this little low table, kind of leaning over it, talking to other kids. Funny; it was like he was in high school or something. Anyway, he sees me out of the corner of his eye or something, and runs over -- he has a little, it looks like part of a book in his hand. There are pictures on it of various insects, spiders, frogs, that kind of thing. "Daddy, look!" he says. "A spider! And a, a....what's this thing?" I say, that's a beetle, Jack. And he says, "Oh! A beetle!" And then he points at another one: "And what's that?" That's a bee, I say. And he says, "Oh! A BEE! And he will STING me! Don't sting me, bee!"
Just something about Jack easily transitioning from talking to other kids to talking with me to talking with a picture of a bee. It's good stuff.
Friday, October 05, 2007
Halloween Song
Jack has a new song about the upcoming holiday, one that he made up himself and sang several times today. It features his basic understanding of the holiday, as well as impressions from the decorations on our neighbor's lawn. It varies with each telling, but goes something like this:
Halloween
Halloween
And I go trick or treating and get candy
and the Pumpkin snowman
and the goats* in the truck
and I get Murdoch (a Thomas train he's been on about lately) and go trick or treating
Halloween
With Mommy Daddy and Jack and Kate
And the Tigger and Santa and pumpkin snowman on the lawn
and the very big spider spinning her web
Halloween
* (He means "ghosts.")
Something like that, anyway.
Halloween
Halloween
And I go trick or treating and get candy
and the Pumpkin snowman
and the goats* in the truck
and I get Murdoch (a Thomas train he's been on about lately) and go trick or treating
Halloween
With Mommy Daddy and Jack and Kate
And the Tigger and Santa and pumpkin snowman on the lawn
and the very big spider spinning her web
Halloween
* (He means "ghosts.")
Something like that, anyway.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
New Kid in Town
Haven't blogged in a while, largely because I'm exhausted, or don't have the time, or am too tired to find the time, one of those. But a lot's been happening and I'll try to recap....
We have a new baby, a girl named Kate, who's exactly three weeks old as I write this. Pretty cool, and I'm going to have to write about her at some point being as I've been changing some of her diapers, too. For the most part, though, she's been attached to her Mommy by, as an old codger in Fletch might say, one of those two protuberances about grab height. Anyway.
We kind of expected this to be a little tough on Jack, and it is. Mostly in subtle ways. He hasn't thrown tantrums about her, or been angry or jealous of her, at least not outwardly. He likes her, actually, wanting to hold her -- he looks so proud when he's sitting on the couch with his arms out and hands upturned and we place her in his arms. He's awkward about it, but also kind of beaming. When she cries or wails, he's all "What's the matter, baby?" And, "It's okay baby! Don't cry. What's the matter, baby?" So sweet. And he's already taken to including her when he goes around naming us all and pointing: "Mommy....Daddy....Kate...and JACK!" with a big point to himself.
It's the little things. Him getting more upset over minor stuff, partly because I think he's tense, partly because he's not getting as much sleep (which might have something to do with Kate -- as I write this, he's only napped at home ONCE since Kate came home), partly because of this new kid in town...a combination I'd guess. He wants Mommy to come kiss him goodnight, for the second or third time, and Mommy can't, because she's feeding Kate. Or he keeps getting out of his bed, wanting more stories, or whatever, but it's late and Daddy is starting to get upset, because jeez, Jack, you've got to sleep, and you'll just be even crankier tomorrow. And of course it gets worse, not better, because we all get less sleep and then he doesn't want to eat as much ("I'm tired....I'm sleepy, Daddy"), some of which is because he actually is tired and some of which is just an excuse to avoid doing something he doesn't want to do. And the result is we're more frustrated and more tired and he's more upset and.....yeah.
There was a stretch of bad days, and then a good one, and I think today was okay. Tuesday, Emily's birthday, was a little of both. He was whiny in the morning, and didn't want to go to school, and woke up early, and all that. Then in the afternoon I picked him up at school, and he was playing with trains, and was happy. I went over and he gave me a train, and he said, I don't think this one has a name. And I said, well, maybe he has a name...let me see. And I checked the bottom, and I saw his name was Murdoch. So I said to Jack, see, he has a name, it's Murdoch. Jack looked down and smiled at the train. "Murdoch," he said, with a certain satisfaction. "Oh! His name is Murdoch, Daddy." That's right, Jack.
And then we went home, and the guy next door is apparently having his paved driveway extended over half of his lawn, I have no idea why. But there was a big digger truck there, and Jack was pretty excited. And then his cousins showed up for Emily's party, and Jack was happy, and said, "Look at the BIG DIGGER." And jumped up and down.
On the downside, the evening ended badly, partly because the playing doesn't always go great with the girls, a combination of him being a so-so sharer and them being older or whatever, and partly because he was so tired. But ultimately we did go upstairs, and had his bath, and read a story, and when we lay down he fell asleep fairly quickly, his arm tight around my neck. Took me 5 minutes to extricate myself and leave the room.
Basically it's just tough. Emily told me she talked to him once about his feelings during one of his little breakdowns. She said, "It's all very strange and different, isn't it?" And Jack, in tears, said, "Yahhhsss!" which was part sob and part shout. And it is, for all of us, but especially for him, because of course he didn't know this change was coming, no matter how much we tried to explain it.
But we're going to get through it, starting with getting a little more sleep. Right now.
We have a new baby, a girl named Kate, who's exactly three weeks old as I write this. Pretty cool, and I'm going to have to write about her at some point being as I've been changing some of her diapers, too. For the most part, though, she's been attached to her Mommy by, as an old codger in Fletch might say, one of those two protuberances about grab height. Anyway.
We kind of expected this to be a little tough on Jack, and it is. Mostly in subtle ways. He hasn't thrown tantrums about her, or been angry or jealous of her, at least not outwardly. He likes her, actually, wanting to hold her -- he looks so proud when he's sitting on the couch with his arms out and hands upturned and we place her in his arms. He's awkward about it, but also kind of beaming. When she cries or wails, he's all "What's the matter, baby?" And, "It's okay baby! Don't cry. What's the matter, baby?" So sweet. And he's already taken to including her when he goes around naming us all and pointing: "Mommy....Daddy....Kate...and JACK!" with a big point to himself.
It's the little things. Him getting more upset over minor stuff, partly because I think he's tense, partly because he's not getting as much sleep (which might have something to do with Kate -- as I write this, he's only napped at home ONCE since Kate came home), partly because of this new kid in town...a combination I'd guess. He wants Mommy to come kiss him goodnight, for the second or third time, and Mommy can't, because she's feeding Kate. Or he keeps getting out of his bed, wanting more stories, or whatever, but it's late and Daddy is starting to get upset, because jeez, Jack, you've got to sleep, and you'll just be even crankier tomorrow. And of course it gets worse, not better, because we all get less sleep and then he doesn't want to eat as much ("I'm tired....I'm sleepy, Daddy"), some of which is because he actually is tired and some of which is just an excuse to avoid doing something he doesn't want to do. And the result is we're more frustrated and more tired and he's more upset and.....yeah.
There was a stretch of bad days, and then a good one, and I think today was okay. Tuesday, Emily's birthday, was a little of both. He was whiny in the morning, and didn't want to go to school, and woke up early, and all that. Then in the afternoon I picked him up at school, and he was playing with trains, and was happy. I went over and he gave me a train, and he said, I don't think this one has a name. And I said, well, maybe he has a name...let me see. And I checked the bottom, and I saw his name was Murdoch. So I said to Jack, see, he has a name, it's Murdoch. Jack looked down and smiled at the train. "Murdoch," he said, with a certain satisfaction. "Oh! His name is Murdoch, Daddy." That's right, Jack.
And then we went home, and the guy next door is apparently having his paved driveway extended over half of his lawn, I have no idea why. But there was a big digger truck there, and Jack was pretty excited. And then his cousins showed up for Emily's party, and Jack was happy, and said, "Look at the BIG DIGGER." And jumped up and down.
On the downside, the evening ended badly, partly because the playing doesn't always go great with the girls, a combination of him being a so-so sharer and them being older or whatever, and partly because he was so tired. But ultimately we did go upstairs, and had his bath, and read a story, and when we lay down he fell asleep fairly quickly, his arm tight around my neck. Took me 5 minutes to extricate myself and leave the room.
Basically it's just tough. Emily told me she talked to him once about his feelings during one of his little breakdowns. She said, "It's all very strange and different, isn't it?" And Jack, in tears, said, "Yahhhsss!" which was part sob and part shout. And it is, for all of us, but especially for him, because of course he didn't know this change was coming, no matter how much we tried to explain it.
But we're going to get through it, starting with getting a little more sleep. Right now.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Surgery, Part II
Leading up to Jack's surgery, we stressed a lot, worried about worst case scenarios, heard stories about how scary it is when your child gets anesthesia, all that. We gave Jack ice cream and gummi bears and all that, and told him that a doctor was going to fix his owies. Meanwhile, Emily was worried she was going to go into labor the night before or day of. I had images of Father of the Bride, either 1 or 2, I don't know which, where Steve Martin is running back and forth from his wife's room to his daughter's. Probably it was 2. Anyway.
We slept badly, then got up and entertained Jack until we had to go to the hospital. We had to be there at 8:30 a.m. The morning had a feel of wanting it to be over with, so we kind of just got ready and went, early, and were there. Paperwork, admitting, and then into a room. Jack wasn't crazy about it. Not surprisingly. We had to get him out of his clothes and into these little flimsy pajamas, which we later learned we put the top on backwards (with the ties in front), and they said, well, they'll come get you at 9:30. And then we sat on his bed and watched TV, and tried to act like we weren't worried.
They finally came around 10. I carried Jack, Emily walked beside us. Then we got to the operating room area and they let me and Jack go through the door and Emily went off to the waiting room. A tough goodbye. Jack and I were directed to a chair sort of in a hallway just off the operating room. The anesthesiologist who looked a lot like Jerry Seinfeld came out, asked us questions, I might have signed a form or something, so on and so forth. Seinfeld left and we sat there for another 10 minutes. Jack: "I want to go." Me: "Well, we can't, yet."
They came to get us and we walked into the operating room. Lots of big lights and equipment extending from the ceiling. Very X-Files-ish. Seinfeld was there and he told me to put Jack on the table. Jack was great, just lay there, trusting. Seinfeld commented on it. I held Jack's hand and they put the mask over his face and counted, and in less than a minute he was asleep. It wasn't as scary as I'd been told, actually. And they said, OK, he's great, you should leave now. And so I did.
Emily and I waited in this little room. Bad coffee. Bad TV. Bad magazines. Comfortable chair I guess.
About 45 minutes later, Dr. Peter walked through the door. He was only halfway in the door as he was saying, "Jack's doing fine!" Love Dr. Peter. Thank you for not being all, "Hi there, how are you doing? Emily, how's the pregnancy...."
We went into the post-operative (I guess) room to see him. It was big, with lots of beds -- really, it looked like something right out of MASH. Kind of scary, actually. Jack was in a nurse's lap in a chair (rocking chair? can't remember), kind of curled up. His back to us. Mostly hidden. He was awake but really out of it. We had been warned the anesthesia was very disorienting and stuff, but still. Scary. We both touched him, held his hand, talked to him. He was kind of like, "Mommy...ahhhhhnnn....Daddy....." Kind of not making a lot of sense. First Mommy held him, then me. They had me sit in a wheelchair with Jack on my lap, and then they wheeled us out of the room. We had to sit there for a good 5 minutes, with Jack moaning, while they filled out some kind of paperwork or whatever. I'm sure it was important, but geez, we didn't have to sign anything, get us out of there, please. So they wheeled us out of the room eventually, and all the way back to his room, where we'd started out.
We put Jack carefully on his bed. He wanted us with him. We all kind of squeezed onto the little single hospital bed together. Not easy. Plus he had the IV in, and various bandages and such, so we're trying to lie there without hurting him in some way. They needed to keep him there for a couple of hours after the surgery, to make sure he was OK. I think we watched some TV, and as he gradually became less disoriented and plaintive, we gradually calmed down and relaxed. He was OK, it was OK. And it was going to all be over.
And then they offered popsicles, and Jack -- starting to be himself again -- said, "A red one." And then: "TWO popsicles." And everything was fine.
We slept badly, then got up and entertained Jack until we had to go to the hospital. We had to be there at 8:30 a.m. The morning had a feel of wanting it to be over with, so we kind of just got ready and went, early, and were there. Paperwork, admitting, and then into a room. Jack wasn't crazy about it. Not surprisingly. We had to get him out of his clothes and into these little flimsy pajamas, which we later learned we put the top on backwards (with the ties in front), and they said, well, they'll come get you at 9:30. And then we sat on his bed and watched TV, and tried to act like we weren't worried.
They finally came around 10. I carried Jack, Emily walked beside us. Then we got to the operating room area and they let me and Jack go through the door and Emily went off to the waiting room. A tough goodbye. Jack and I were directed to a chair sort of in a hallway just off the operating room. The anesthesiologist who looked a lot like Jerry Seinfeld came out, asked us questions, I might have signed a form or something, so on and so forth. Seinfeld left and we sat there for another 10 minutes. Jack: "I want to go." Me: "Well, we can't, yet."
They came to get us and we walked into the operating room. Lots of big lights and equipment extending from the ceiling. Very X-Files-ish. Seinfeld was there and he told me to put Jack on the table. Jack was great, just lay there, trusting. Seinfeld commented on it. I held Jack's hand and they put the mask over his face and counted, and in less than a minute he was asleep. It wasn't as scary as I'd been told, actually. And they said, OK, he's great, you should leave now. And so I did.
Emily and I waited in this little room. Bad coffee. Bad TV. Bad magazines. Comfortable chair I guess.
About 45 minutes later, Dr. Peter walked through the door. He was only halfway in the door as he was saying, "Jack's doing fine!" Love Dr. Peter. Thank you for not being all, "Hi there, how are you doing? Emily, how's the pregnancy...."
We went into the post-operative (I guess) room to see him. It was big, with lots of beds -- really, it looked like something right out of MASH. Kind of scary, actually. Jack was in a nurse's lap in a chair (rocking chair? can't remember), kind of curled up. His back to us. Mostly hidden. He was awake but really out of it. We had been warned the anesthesia was very disorienting and stuff, but still. Scary. We both touched him, held his hand, talked to him. He was kind of like, "Mommy...ahhhhhnnn....Daddy....." Kind of not making a lot of sense. First Mommy held him, then me. They had me sit in a wheelchair with Jack on my lap, and then they wheeled us out of the room. We had to sit there for a good 5 minutes, with Jack moaning, while they filled out some kind of paperwork or whatever. I'm sure it was important, but geez, we didn't have to sign anything, get us out of there, please. So they wheeled us out of the room eventually, and all the way back to his room, where we'd started out.
We put Jack carefully on his bed. He wanted us with him. We all kind of squeezed onto the little single hospital bed together. Not easy. Plus he had the IV in, and various bandages and such, so we're trying to lie there without hurting him in some way. They needed to keep him there for a couple of hours after the surgery, to make sure he was OK. I think we watched some TV, and as he gradually became less disoriented and plaintive, we gradually calmed down and relaxed. He was OK, it was OK. And it was going to all be over.
And then they offered popsicles, and Jack -- starting to be himself again -- said, "A red one." And then: "TWO popsicles." And everything was fine.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Grandma and Jack
OK, we've got a new baby, her name is Kate, and she's fantastic. And I still need to write about Jack's surgery, Part II. But this was too good not to write down.
With the baby, Emily's been in the hospital and I've been there a lot the last two days. Jack has, understandably, been off his routine....Grandma got him up yesterday morning and put him to bed last night, he went to Temple with the Rosenfelds on Thursday (while we were, you know, having our baby), and Grandma put him to bed last night. He woke up early this morning, he's a little off his game, missed his nap, we took two trips to the hospital, etc. Busy day.
So Grandma brought him home tonight and gave him dinner and put him to bed. Here's how it went, according to Grandma.
"We got home and I made him a hotdog and some macaroni ('What's that?' he said, so I called it pasta, and it was fine). And he also wanted applesauce. I said, you have to eat two hotdog pieces and two pastas. So he ate the two bites of hotdog, and a pasta, and said, 'Now can I have my applesauce?' and I said, did you have two pastas? and he said, no, I only had one. And I said, well. So he ate it, and I gave him his applesauce, and he ate it all and then he ate down his entire hotdog and pastas, and then he sat back and said, 'Holy Cow, I ate my whole dinner!'
"And then he sat back in his chair and said, Grandma, I'm sleepy. So, I took him right upstairs, and decided not to do the bath. And I was getting him changed in his room, telling him he's not going to have a bath, and he said, 'Do I get pajamas?' And I said of course. And then I was washing him off a little with just his diaper on, and he said, 'Do I get a new diaper?' and I said of course, and got him his new diaper and pajamas. And then as I was doing that, he wanted to sit on the potty. And he sat down, and then after a minute he said, 'Grandma. I'm very sleepy.'
"So we went into the bedroom and he was all ready for bed, and he said, 'No stories. Just songs.' So I started doing songs, and he was tired and falling asleep, so I was going to leave, and he put his arm around me and said, 'Don't leave yet.' And we were lying there, and the doorbell rang. (It was flowers from Robin, thanks Robin! And Mom and Dad yours came too, thanks!) And I said, well, I have to get that. And Jack said, 'I'll wait for you.'
"And when I went back upstairs five minutes later, he was fast asleep."
With the baby, Emily's been in the hospital and I've been there a lot the last two days. Jack has, understandably, been off his routine....Grandma got him up yesterday morning and put him to bed last night, he went to Temple with the Rosenfelds on Thursday (while we were, you know, having our baby), and Grandma put him to bed last night. He woke up early this morning, he's a little off his game, missed his nap, we took two trips to the hospital, etc. Busy day.
So Grandma brought him home tonight and gave him dinner and put him to bed. Here's how it went, according to Grandma.
"We got home and I made him a hotdog and some macaroni ('What's that?' he said, so I called it pasta, and it was fine). And he also wanted applesauce. I said, you have to eat two hotdog pieces and two pastas. So he ate the two bites of hotdog, and a pasta, and said, 'Now can I have my applesauce?' and I said, did you have two pastas? and he said, no, I only had one. And I said, well. So he ate it, and I gave him his applesauce, and he ate it all and then he ate down his entire hotdog and pastas, and then he sat back and said, 'Holy Cow, I ate my whole dinner!'
"And then he sat back in his chair and said, Grandma, I'm sleepy. So, I took him right upstairs, and decided not to do the bath. And I was getting him changed in his room, telling him he's not going to have a bath, and he said, 'Do I get pajamas?' And I said of course. And then I was washing him off a little with just his diaper on, and he said, 'Do I get a new diaper?' and I said of course, and got him his new diaper and pajamas. And then as I was doing that, he wanted to sit on the potty. And he sat down, and then after a minute he said, 'Grandma. I'm very sleepy.'
"So we went into the bedroom and he was all ready for bed, and he said, 'No stories. Just songs.' So I started doing songs, and he was tired and falling asleep, so I was going to leave, and he put his arm around me and said, 'Don't leave yet.' And we were lying there, and the doorbell rang. (It was flowers from Robin, thanks Robin! And Mom and Dad yours came too, thanks!) And I said, well, I have to get that. And Jack said, 'I'll wait for you.'
"And when I went back upstairs five minutes later, he was fast asleep."
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Surgery (Part I)
Last Tuesday was kind of a typical day with Jack. His school was closed all week, so we went to the beach in the morning. Emily and I had been going back and forth on whether we should see a doctor for what appeared to be an allergic reaction/rash he had. It showed up occasionally....didn't bother him, but it was noticeable. We thought it might be his sunblock, or strawberries, or prickly heat...whatever. Anyway, at the beach that morning it seemed worse, so I made an appointment for that afternoon.
We went to the doctor, and while she was checking him all over, she noticed a swelling in the groin area. She thought it was a hernia, but wanted him to see another doctor to be sure. She kind of shrugged off the allergies ("Keep a food diary," she suggested, "Or try Benadryl if it itches") which was just as well, since I'd totally forgotten about it too. Especially when she said if it WAS a hernia, he'd need surgery. All righty then.
We drove home, and I was kind of teary. My son needs surgery. Pretty scary. I was torn between regretting the visit which had dumped this in our lap and feeling lucky that we'd found out this way, and not -- as the doctor had said -- him waking up crying and in pain, which might have happened down the road. He, of course, was acting perfectly normal, wanting to play with the trains in the doctor's office, smiling and laughing during the examination, etc.
She had said she hoped the doctor would be able to see us to confirm her diagnosis by next week. By some weird coincidence, the doctor she recommended, one of the leading pediatric surgeons in Westchester County, turned out to be our brother in law's Dad's...well, kind of confusing, but he was Ian's Dad's cousin's husband. Or something like that. And he'd had Thanksgiving dinner with us. As a result, we were able to see him the next day, and yup, it was a hernia. Surgery scheduled for the following Tuesday. This office visit, Jack's second in two days, wasn't as much fun for him. Although he enjoyed playing with the toys (a little kitchen, some trucks, so on and so forth), he was a little wary of the doctor, who he didn't remember, of course, and the whole place was unfamiliar. Plus it was his naptime.
Anyhoo, we drove home, and that night Jack got ice cream, gummi bears, pretty much whatever he wanted.
There were some tears (ours, not his).
There were the various explanations to friends and family members (turns out it's the most common surgery performed on children, and even Emily's boss's daughter had had it done, by our surgeon, too!).
And on Saturday afternoon we went over to the neighbor's and Jack played with their son Max, and we told them everything, and we watched the kids play. And it was nice, you know, because it felt like the kind of thing that Jack should be doing -- not sitting around our house while we fretted and worried about him, worried about him suddenly saying his groin hurt or something.
And that's when we really worried about him having surgery. Because everything was supposed to be fine, but all I could think about was what if it wasn't.
So the next few days we basically spoiled him rotten.
To be continued.
We went to the doctor, and while she was checking him all over, she noticed a swelling in the groin area. She thought it was a hernia, but wanted him to see another doctor to be sure. She kind of shrugged off the allergies ("Keep a food diary," she suggested, "Or try Benadryl if it itches") which was just as well, since I'd totally forgotten about it too. Especially when she said if it WAS a hernia, he'd need surgery. All righty then.
We drove home, and I was kind of teary. My son needs surgery. Pretty scary. I was torn between regretting the visit which had dumped this in our lap and feeling lucky that we'd found out this way, and not -- as the doctor had said -- him waking up crying and in pain, which might have happened down the road. He, of course, was acting perfectly normal, wanting to play with the trains in the doctor's office, smiling and laughing during the examination, etc.
She had said she hoped the doctor would be able to see us to confirm her diagnosis by next week. By some weird coincidence, the doctor she recommended, one of the leading pediatric surgeons in Westchester County, turned out to be our brother in law's Dad's...well, kind of confusing, but he was Ian's Dad's cousin's husband. Or something like that. And he'd had Thanksgiving dinner with us. As a result, we were able to see him the next day, and yup, it was a hernia. Surgery scheduled for the following Tuesday. This office visit, Jack's second in two days, wasn't as much fun for him. Although he enjoyed playing with the toys (a little kitchen, some trucks, so on and so forth), he was a little wary of the doctor, who he didn't remember, of course, and the whole place was unfamiliar. Plus it was his naptime.
Anyhoo, we drove home, and that night Jack got ice cream, gummi bears, pretty much whatever he wanted.
There were some tears (ours, not his).
There were the various explanations to friends and family members (turns out it's the most common surgery performed on children, and even Emily's boss's daughter had had it done, by our surgeon, too!).
And on Saturday afternoon we went over to the neighbor's and Jack played with their son Max, and we told them everything, and we watched the kids play. And it was nice, you know, because it felt like the kind of thing that Jack should be doing -- not sitting around our house while we fretted and worried about him, worried about him suddenly saying his groin hurt or something.
And that's when we really worried about him having surgery. Because everything was supposed to be fine, but all I could think about was what if it wasn't.
So the next few days we basically spoiled him rotten.
To be continued.
Saturday, September 01, 2007
Jackisms
Jack had surgery recently, but I'm going to blog about that another time. Some cute stuff to get to first....I'll call them Jackisms.
(After going to see boats with Grandpa) "I never seen a lot and lot of boats...I never seen so many boats!" (Holds both hands out for emphasis)
(The next morning after his surgery) "Some of them had masks....kind of scary." (Presumably talking about the doctors.)
(Also) "I'm going to call the people at the hospital who fixed me, because they found my bears." (Jack had been given a couple of little stuffed bears wearing 'Greenwich Hospital' t-shirts. Somehow, they'd been left in the room. I went back to the hospital later that night, after Jack had gone to bed, to get them.) "I'm going to give them to my sister. They're babies too."
(Told to me) "You have a bandaid. I have TWO bandaids. A big one and a small one." (Talking to mommy. OK, maybe everything he says isn't fascinating to everyone.)
(Jack asks about dessert.) Me: "What did you have in mind?" Jack: "Um...(smiles)...Green stuff?" (Lime sherbet.) "OK, Jack, I think we have that. And maybe there's a special treat, too." Jack's eyes get wide. "Do you know what?" Jack: "Um....gummi bears?" "That's RIGHT." Jack, like his Daddy, loves gummi bears.
"Help, the monster's coming!" (Laughter.) "Monster coming!!!!" (Runs across room, hides in corner.) Me (or mommy) "I'm not a monster, I'm your Daddy (or mommy)!" Not sure where this came from, but at some point Jack decided it was quite hilarious, if one of us was coming to put him to bed, or change his diaper, or whatever, to say "The monster's coming!" or "Monster coming!" It really is pretty funny.
Jack noticing Mommy's pregnant belly at the breakfast table. Big smile: "It looks almost like a ball!"
Jack has a Spider-man pop-up book (actually it's mine, but you know). Each page has little inserts that you can pull out and they have information about Spider-man, his friends, his foes. Jack's favorite part of the book is finding them and pulling them out. "This also gets out," he says. And then: "This ALSO gets out...." (Smile.) "This also gets out....."
Me reading a new book to him today, where the little yellow dog finds out that what he hoped was a big bone is actually a skateboard. "Phooey!" says the dog. This is apparently the funniest word Jack has ever heard. He cracks up. I say it again. Screams of laughter. And again. After a few more times, Jack, gasping with laughter: "Don't say it again!"
OK, tomorrow or the next day I'll write about the surgery.
(After going to see boats with Grandpa) "I never seen a lot and lot of boats...I never seen so many boats!" (Holds both hands out for emphasis)
(The next morning after his surgery) "Some of them had masks....kind of scary." (Presumably talking about the doctors.)
(Also) "I'm going to call the people at the hospital who fixed me, because they found my bears." (Jack had been given a couple of little stuffed bears wearing 'Greenwich Hospital' t-shirts. Somehow, they'd been left in the room. I went back to the hospital later that night, after Jack had gone to bed, to get them.) "I'm going to give them to my sister. They're babies too."
(Told to me) "You have a bandaid. I have TWO bandaids. A big one and a small one." (Talking to mommy. OK, maybe everything he says isn't fascinating to everyone.)
(Jack asks about dessert.) Me: "What did you have in mind?" Jack: "Um...(smiles)...Green stuff?" (Lime sherbet.) "OK, Jack, I think we have that. And maybe there's a special treat, too." Jack's eyes get wide. "Do you know what?" Jack: "Um....gummi bears?" "That's RIGHT." Jack, like his Daddy, loves gummi bears.
"Help, the monster's coming!" (Laughter.) "Monster coming!!!!" (Runs across room, hides in corner.) Me (or mommy) "I'm not a monster, I'm your Daddy (or mommy)!" Not sure where this came from, but at some point Jack decided it was quite hilarious, if one of us was coming to put him to bed, or change his diaper, or whatever, to say "The monster's coming!" or "Monster coming!" It really is pretty funny.
Jack noticing Mommy's pregnant belly at the breakfast table. Big smile: "It looks almost like a ball!"
Jack has a Spider-man pop-up book (actually it's mine, but you know). Each page has little inserts that you can pull out and they have information about Spider-man, his friends, his foes. Jack's favorite part of the book is finding them and pulling them out. "This also gets out," he says. And then: "This ALSO gets out...." (Smile.) "This also gets out....."
Me reading a new book to him today, where the little yellow dog finds out that what he hoped was a big bone is actually a skateboard. "Phooey!" says the dog. This is apparently the funniest word Jack has ever heard. He cracks up. I say it again. Screams of laughter. And again. After a few more times, Jack, gasping with laughter: "Don't say it again!"
OK, tomorrow or the next day I'll write about the surgery.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Told to Me
I don't actually see all of Jack's best moments. Sometimes I just hear about them....
1. Aunt Cathy has had a major cleaning project going on in her finished basement, with the result being that Jack can't go down and play with all their toys when he's over there -- there's just too much chaos. Last weekend Jack went over there with Emily. When he saw Aunt Cathy, he said, "Are the toys clean yet?"
2. Today he was playing with blocks, while Emily was working at her laptop. "Look at my trees, Mommy." She was kind of mmhhmm, mmhmm. He persisted, so she went down to look. He'd made two beautiful little trees by stacking blocks. And was very proud of them.
3. Yesterday at daycare Emily was getting his stuff after picking him up. She heard Lila's Mom say, "Jack, no, wait for your Mommy." He'd started to leave with a girl in the class and her Mom.
4. This one I was there for. We went out to dinner with Cathy and Grandma and the girls. Afterward I sat out front with Jack (he was antsy in his seat) and then the twins came out with us. The three of them suddenly broke into first, Twinkle Twinkle little star, and then, Now I know my ABCs. Sweet.
5. According to Grampa, whenever they go out Jack wants to walk. A lot. Everywhere. Unless he's really tired.
1. Aunt Cathy has had a major cleaning project going on in her finished basement, with the result being that Jack can't go down and play with all their toys when he's over there -- there's just too much chaos. Last weekend Jack went over there with Emily. When he saw Aunt Cathy, he said, "Are the toys clean yet?"
2. Today he was playing with blocks, while Emily was working at her laptop. "Look at my trees, Mommy." She was kind of mmhhmm, mmhmm. He persisted, so she went down to look. He'd made two beautiful little trees by stacking blocks. And was very proud of them.
3. Yesterday at daycare Emily was getting his stuff after picking him up. She heard Lila's Mom say, "Jack, no, wait for your Mommy." He'd started to leave with a girl in the class and her Mom.
4. This one I was there for. We went out to dinner with Cathy and Grandma and the girls. Afterward I sat out front with Jack (he was antsy in his seat) and then the twins came out with us. The three of them suddenly broke into first, Twinkle Twinkle little star, and then, Now I know my ABCs. Sweet.
5. According to Grampa, whenever they go out Jack wants to walk. A lot. Everywhere. Unless he's really tired.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Repeats
Jack often repeats things we say, and what's funny is that even if it's words that he has no idea what they are, he blusters along anyway. So today we were making a big train out of blocks, and as I added the last one I said, Ah, the creme de la creme! And Jack laughed and nodded, saying, "...the creme da la googly...the creme da la dideee..." Basically just cracking himself up with the words, repeating them just to hear them roll off his tongue.
We were lining up his trains on top of their little information cards, and he came to two trains that didn't have any cards. "Where do these trains go?" he asked. Er, they're, um, supervising, I said, standing them near the other ones. Jack started lining up other random trains and things. "They're supervising, too," he said.
We were lining up his trains on top of their little information cards, and he came to two trains that didn't have any cards. "Where do these trains go?" he asked. Er, they're, um, supervising, I said, standing them near the other ones. Jack started lining up other random trains and things. "They're supervising, too," he said.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Putting Jack to Bed
Putting Jack to bed is interesting these days, because things kind of follow a routine, albeit a protracted one.
We go up the stairs, and I start the bath while Jack runs around the upstairs rooms. Sometimes he plays with toys in his room, or reads the big Snoopy book in the office, or turns on his music. Usually it's 5 minutes of me running the bath while Jack burns off energy.
Then comes tracking him down to get him into the bath, which occasionally is laborious. "I'm just going to play a little." "I'm just putting these guys away." "I need to put these books back."
Finally, I get him in the tub. For all his delaying and protests before the bath, once in he has little or no desire to get out. "I want ALL the toys." "I need to wash my seagull." "He wants to drive the boat." I give him his shampoo, and he wants a clean washcloth to dry his eyes. I scrub him, and he asks what I'm doing, resists, etc. I explain, Jack, this is what baths are FOR.
I hoist him out and he stands on the rug. If I'm not careful, he'll dash out into the hallway, naked as a jaybird. (Old expression, I really have no idea what a jaybird is. Blue Jay?) Sometimes I pick him up wrapped in the towel. "Hold me like a baby," he says, big smile. He's huge now, but I do it anyway, his gangly legs and arms everywhere, us trying to squeeze through the door. He laughs, water drips from his hair and feet onto the floor.
I bring him into his room and put on his diaper. Then come pajamas, but there's often an interlude where he runs around in just his diaper. Then pajamas, which sometimes he puts on. Some of those times he even puts them on forward rather than backward. He runs around again. I comb his hair, frequently while he's playing with some toy.
Brushing teeth. He does this grudgingly. But, he does it.
Then it's finally story time. We sit on his bed reading 2 or 3 books he's picked out. Recent favorites are "The Very Busy Spider," which I also like, and "I'm a Big Brother Now." We read both of these twice, sometimes.
Then I tell him it's time for songs. Jack gets up and gets water. "I need a sip of water." I don't know if he actually needs a sip of water. It's like a Pavlovian dog thing. I say it's time for songs, he needs water.
We lie down together and sing songs. Swing on a Star, Edelweiss, Working on the Railroad, The Tigger Song. Others, sometimes, but that's most of my repertoire right there. For a while I did "On top of spaghetti," but he's not into that right now.
Then it's time to lie down to sleep. Jack: "Sleep with me a couple minutes." I do. We lie down together, and sometimes he touches my cheek, my upper lip. "Do you have stubble?" he asks. Usually, the answer is yes.
Tonight, Jack looked at me and said seriously, "I'm going to get a sip of water. And then I'll come back." And he did.
We go up the stairs, and I start the bath while Jack runs around the upstairs rooms. Sometimes he plays with toys in his room, or reads the big Snoopy book in the office, or turns on his music. Usually it's 5 minutes of me running the bath while Jack burns off energy.
Then comes tracking him down to get him into the bath, which occasionally is laborious. "I'm just going to play a little." "I'm just putting these guys away." "I need to put these books back."
Finally, I get him in the tub. For all his delaying and protests before the bath, once in he has little or no desire to get out. "I want ALL the toys." "I need to wash my seagull." "He wants to drive the boat." I give him his shampoo, and he wants a clean washcloth to dry his eyes. I scrub him, and he asks what I'm doing, resists, etc. I explain, Jack, this is what baths are FOR.
I hoist him out and he stands on the rug. If I'm not careful, he'll dash out into the hallway, naked as a jaybird. (Old expression, I really have no idea what a jaybird is. Blue Jay?) Sometimes I pick him up wrapped in the towel. "Hold me like a baby," he says, big smile. He's huge now, but I do it anyway, his gangly legs and arms everywhere, us trying to squeeze through the door. He laughs, water drips from his hair and feet onto the floor.
I bring him into his room and put on his diaper. Then come pajamas, but there's often an interlude where he runs around in just his diaper. Then pajamas, which sometimes he puts on. Some of those times he even puts them on forward rather than backward. He runs around again. I comb his hair, frequently while he's playing with some toy.
Brushing teeth. He does this grudgingly. But, he does it.
Then it's finally story time. We sit on his bed reading 2 or 3 books he's picked out. Recent favorites are "The Very Busy Spider," which I also like, and "I'm a Big Brother Now." We read both of these twice, sometimes.
Then I tell him it's time for songs. Jack gets up and gets water. "I need a sip of water." I don't know if he actually needs a sip of water. It's like a Pavlovian dog thing. I say it's time for songs, he needs water.
We lie down together and sing songs. Swing on a Star, Edelweiss, Working on the Railroad, The Tigger Song. Others, sometimes, but that's most of my repertoire right there. For a while I did "On top of spaghetti," but he's not into that right now.
Then it's time to lie down to sleep. Jack: "Sleep with me a couple minutes." I do. We lie down together, and sometimes he touches my cheek, my upper lip. "Do you have stubble?" he asks. Usually, the answer is yes.
Tonight, Jack looked at me and said seriously, "I'm going to get a sip of water. And then I'll come back." And he did.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Big Monkey
As I was putting Jack to bed tonight, he said he wanted more soft toys (the soft toys are the ones he can have in his bed). I said, well, you've got your Backyardigans, and then I guess you've got the little monkeys over there (I pointed out his monkey chair in the far corner of his room, with two smaller stuffed monkeys in its arms. The chair is bigger than Jack). He said, okay...
I just checked in on him. He was asleep, and the little monkeys were in bed with him.
And the giant monkey chair, which he had dragged across his room, was sitting right next to his bed, head down, evidently sleeping too.
I just checked in on him. He was asleep, and the little monkeys were in bed with him.
And the giant monkey chair, which he had dragged across his room, was sitting right next to his bed, head down, evidently sleeping too.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
According to Jack
- Ronald McDonald is bad, Old McDonald is good. I don't think he minds McDonald's food as much as it being a case of, he saw a commercial with the Ronald clown jumping around and waving his arms and didn't like it very well. He also likes Wendy's, I think mostly because of the little girl on the bag.
- Dancing is essentially stomping feet up and down and pumping arms when music is on the radio; running out of the room saying "My song, my song!" when it's on a CD he's playing; or running circles around the room while Daddy is singing his goodnight songs, particularly the catchier ones like "Personal Penguin." Tonight we ran circles around the room to music, Jack saying "I'm going to catch you!" and me saying "I'm going to catch YOU" and so forth.
- Any reference to "Jack" of any kind, means him. (And I don't blame him for this.) So, there's a show on Nickelodeon called Jack's Big Music Show. At some point he saw something he didn't like, probably the way the puppets make loud noises or jump around sometimes, I don't know. Once we had the channel on and it showed a commercial for it. I said, Oh, it's Jack's Big Music Show. Jack: (near tears) "Don't like my big music show....!" Then tonight, it being my birthday, I had bought some Jack Daniels and was going to make myself a Jack and Coke, which I mentioned to Emily. Jack overheard, and said: "Don't put me in Coke!"
- Dancing is essentially stomping feet up and down and pumping arms when music is on the radio; running out of the room saying "My song, my song!" when it's on a CD he's playing; or running circles around the room while Daddy is singing his goodnight songs, particularly the catchier ones like "Personal Penguin." Tonight we ran circles around the room to music, Jack saying "I'm going to catch you!" and me saying "I'm going to catch YOU" and so forth.
- Any reference to "Jack" of any kind, means him. (And I don't blame him for this.) So, there's a show on Nickelodeon called Jack's Big Music Show. At some point he saw something he didn't like, probably the way the puppets make loud noises or jump around sometimes, I don't know. Once we had the channel on and it showed a commercial for it. I said, Oh, it's Jack's Big Music Show. Jack: (near tears) "Don't like my big music show....!" Then tonight, it being my birthday, I had bought some Jack Daniels and was going to make myself a Jack and Coke, which I mentioned to Emily. Jack overheard, and said: "Don't put me in Coke!"
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Daddy's Magazine
Aunt Cathy was over this morning, and she noticed a couple of the fantasy football magazines on the coffee table. She said, Oh, is this your magazine? Before I could say anything, Jack comes over, says "No - " then goes over near the TV, where my magazine, Fantasy Football Index, is on the rug. I think I showed it to him when we first got it a few weeks back. He gets it and holds it up. "THIS is Daddy's magazine." Cathy says, oh, OK, can I see it? She reaches for it, and Jack walks around her, over to me. "No....it's DADDY's magazine."
Random funny Jack stuff:
Jack knows he has to eat his dinner to get dessert (even though he doesn't always get dessert, we've slipped a little in that respect, and it's more frequent). Regardless, he knows we'll say no if he doesn't eat his dinner.
So he repeatedly asks us during dinner if he has, in fact, eaten his dinner. Plate gets put down. He has a few bites of something. A minute later: "Are I done eating?" Us: What? No! You just started. A little bit later: "Did I eat all my dinner?" At least half his meal remains on his plate. Us: No, there it is right there. Of course, on those occasions when he does eat everything, he lets us know. "I ate all my green squash, Daddy. I ate all my green squash." You sure did, Jack.
Random funny Jack stuff:
Jack knows he has to eat his dinner to get dessert (even though he doesn't always get dessert, we've slipped a little in that respect, and it's more frequent). Regardless, he knows we'll say no if he doesn't eat his dinner.
So he repeatedly asks us during dinner if he has, in fact, eaten his dinner. Plate gets put down. He has a few bites of something. A minute later: "Are I done eating?" Us: What? No! You just started. A little bit later: "Did I eat all my dinner?" At least half his meal remains on his plate. Us: No, there it is right there. Of course, on those occasions when he does eat everything, he lets us know. "I ate all my green squash, Daddy. I ate all my green squash." You sure did, Jack.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Thursday
Pretty soon -- August -- Jack's going to start going to daycare on Thursdays, too. I'm getting busier with work, we've got a new baby on the way, he enjoys school, and one day he'll be going 5 days a week anyway (sigh). Because of that, I can feel my Thursdays with Jack starting to dwindle, and I thought I'd keep track of everything that we did this past Thursday. It's two days later, but it should be pretty close...
Getting up: I hear Jack calling for his Daddy, and it's about 6 a.m. (which is usually as late as we get), so I head in. Jack's sitting up in bed, holding his current favorite sleep toy the baby Dragon, talking to it, which he does some time. He looks up at me. Smiles. "Is it morning time, yet?" I say, close enough. Jack jumps up out of bed, announces he stayed in bed, announces he had a bad dream (it's hard to know whether this is true or not; he says it like it's no big deal, or rather like he doesn't completely understand the concept; maybe he just heard us talking about one once), and then runs over to play with his pirate ship. Just one of many presents he had little to no interest in when he first got it and now, a year or more later, plays with regularly. "Are I going to school today?" he asks. No, you're staying home with Daddy. This sounds fine to him and he continues playing. I tell him he can stay in his pajamas, which he prefers (not allowed on school mornings), we change his diaper (not poopy), brush his teeth (something he's more interested in now that he has Thomas the Tank Engine toothpase), and head downstairs. Mommy has drifted in to say Hello and gone downstairs to make coffee, good job Mommy.
First breakfast: Jack's first breakfast is usually some kind of fruit (raspberries, blueberries, cantelope) and cereal, either Cheerios, Shredded Oats, or Puffins. These things go in cycles. Might have been cantelope, he's been on a kick lately. Depending on when he eats it -- I can't recall if we watched Maisy beforehand or not, possible -- he is either mildly hungry or very hungry. When he's very hungry he sits quietly and just shovels the food in. That's always nice.
Second breakfast: At school they usually have waffles or somesuch at 8:30, so I try to give him breakfast around then too. Again. He usually takes to it, whether it's waffles or (in this case) scrambled eggs and bacon. He's particularly fond of the bacon today. Scrambled eggs can be hit or miss; sometimes he'll eat his and mine. When I make fried eggs he eats the whites but doesn't like the yolks. Last week I ate four over-medium yolks and he ate four whites.
Home Depot: The movers lost our crib hardware so I've been trying to match it, and it's taken me a few trips. Home Depot with Jack is interesting; they have a nice racecar cart that he enjoys, but it seems like it was designed for much wider aisles than Home Depot's. We squeeze by other shoppers and I give him random things to play with (socket wrenches, drill bits, circular saws....no, just kidding) while I look for the right sized screws. Naturally, I'll end up going back on Sunday anyway, but at least Jack had fun.
Train Station: Jack likes to go look at trains; he started doing it with his grandpa. Oddly, it's kind of a love-hate thing; he likes seeing the trains, but he's also a little afraid of their size and the noise, so he doesn't like to get too close and sometimes not even onto the platform. We're there 15 minutes and see 3 trains, and then it's time to go.
Playground: Then it's off to the playground, which Jack insists on even though I can see he's getting tired. I don't think we ever see the same kids there, and it's always a little different. Once there was some kind of head start graduation thing going on and we left; it was so crowded I was worried that I -- I mean, Jack, of course -- would get trampled or something. Once it was a little cool with a threat of rain but still okay, and we were the only ones there. You just never know. Today there are a few kids, and Jack sleepwalks around a little and then perks up. We go on the big teeter-totter, and he laughs happily, and we ride the motorcycle and sidecar type of thing; that's fun. It wouldn't be a trip to the playground if Jack didn't 1) stare at some other child for a few minutes, or 2) ask to climb on some dangerous looking ladder that I ultimately relent and then have my heart in my throat the entire time. But, a good time is had by all.
Lunch: I keep Jack awake all the way home -- if he falls asleep in the car it's hard to move him without waking him up and screwing up the nap -- by offering him raisins or poking his foot or whatever. It's only about 2 miles anyway. Lunch is yogurt, cheese, cherries, and a little turkey, which I think he eats a bit of between shoveling in cherries.
Nap: We read his favorite stories these days (Personal Penguin and Oh My Oh My Oh Dinosaurs, both by Sandra Boynton) and lie down together for a few minutes ("Daddy, lie down with me. Stay a couple minutes. Just a little bit.") I sing a couple songs, and if he asks for one I don't know -- which happens, Mommy and apparently school have different songs -- he says, "Just a little bit," so I make something up which uses the title of the song he's asked for. Usually he stops me: 'That's Mommy's song." Allrighty then.
Driveway: He has a good nap, and when he wakes up we go play in the driveway. Sometimes this is basketball, but lately it's been worrying ants with sticks. I might have mentioned this before, maybe even last blog. I tell him not to hurt the ants, because I'm soft that way, and mostly we just watch them and occasionally he pokes at them with a stick. The ants are a little faster than Jack so it's mostly okay.
Yard: We hit the baseball around, off his tee-ball set. Sometimes he looks into the Big Kids yard; nothing doing. Haven't seen them much lately, maybe they're at camp or whatever it is kids that age do in the summer.
Dinner: Mommy is home, and we usually have something easy on Thursday, because we're both too beat to do anything major. For the life of me I can't recall what we had, just two days ago. Hmm. Hot dogs were Friday....maybe pasta, I dunno.
Bed: Mommy puts Jack to bed, because Daddy needs a break from Jack. And that's pretty much Thursday, more or less, these days.
I'm going to miss it.
Getting up: I hear Jack calling for his Daddy, and it's about 6 a.m. (which is usually as late as we get), so I head in. Jack's sitting up in bed, holding his current favorite sleep toy the baby Dragon, talking to it, which he does some time. He looks up at me. Smiles. "Is it morning time, yet?" I say, close enough. Jack jumps up out of bed, announces he stayed in bed, announces he had a bad dream (it's hard to know whether this is true or not; he says it like it's no big deal, or rather like he doesn't completely understand the concept; maybe he just heard us talking about one once), and then runs over to play with his pirate ship. Just one of many presents he had little to no interest in when he first got it and now, a year or more later, plays with regularly. "Are I going to school today?" he asks. No, you're staying home with Daddy. This sounds fine to him and he continues playing. I tell him he can stay in his pajamas, which he prefers (not allowed on school mornings), we change his diaper (not poopy), brush his teeth (something he's more interested in now that he has Thomas the Tank Engine toothpase), and head downstairs. Mommy has drifted in to say Hello and gone downstairs to make coffee, good job Mommy.
First breakfast: Jack's first breakfast is usually some kind of fruit (raspberries, blueberries, cantelope) and cereal, either Cheerios, Shredded Oats, or Puffins. These things go in cycles. Might have been cantelope, he's been on a kick lately. Depending on when he eats it -- I can't recall if we watched Maisy beforehand or not, possible -- he is either mildly hungry or very hungry. When he's very hungry he sits quietly and just shovels the food in. That's always nice.
Second breakfast: At school they usually have waffles or somesuch at 8:30, so I try to give him breakfast around then too. Again. He usually takes to it, whether it's waffles or (in this case) scrambled eggs and bacon. He's particularly fond of the bacon today. Scrambled eggs can be hit or miss; sometimes he'll eat his and mine. When I make fried eggs he eats the whites but doesn't like the yolks. Last week I ate four over-medium yolks and he ate four whites.
Home Depot: The movers lost our crib hardware so I've been trying to match it, and it's taken me a few trips. Home Depot with Jack is interesting; they have a nice racecar cart that he enjoys, but it seems like it was designed for much wider aisles than Home Depot's. We squeeze by other shoppers and I give him random things to play with (socket wrenches, drill bits, circular saws....no, just kidding) while I look for the right sized screws. Naturally, I'll end up going back on Sunday anyway, but at least Jack had fun.
Train Station: Jack likes to go look at trains; he started doing it with his grandpa. Oddly, it's kind of a love-hate thing; he likes seeing the trains, but he's also a little afraid of their size and the noise, so he doesn't like to get too close and sometimes not even onto the platform. We're there 15 minutes and see 3 trains, and then it's time to go.
Playground: Then it's off to the playground, which Jack insists on even though I can see he's getting tired. I don't think we ever see the same kids there, and it's always a little different. Once there was some kind of head start graduation thing going on and we left; it was so crowded I was worried that I -- I mean, Jack, of course -- would get trampled or something. Once it was a little cool with a threat of rain but still okay, and we were the only ones there. You just never know. Today there are a few kids, and Jack sleepwalks around a little and then perks up. We go on the big teeter-totter, and he laughs happily, and we ride the motorcycle and sidecar type of thing; that's fun. It wouldn't be a trip to the playground if Jack didn't 1) stare at some other child for a few minutes, or 2) ask to climb on some dangerous looking ladder that I ultimately relent and then have my heart in my throat the entire time. But, a good time is had by all.
Lunch: I keep Jack awake all the way home -- if he falls asleep in the car it's hard to move him without waking him up and screwing up the nap -- by offering him raisins or poking his foot or whatever. It's only about 2 miles anyway. Lunch is yogurt, cheese, cherries, and a little turkey, which I think he eats a bit of between shoveling in cherries.
Nap: We read his favorite stories these days (Personal Penguin and Oh My Oh My Oh Dinosaurs, both by Sandra Boynton) and lie down together for a few minutes ("Daddy, lie down with me. Stay a couple minutes. Just a little bit.") I sing a couple songs, and if he asks for one I don't know -- which happens, Mommy and apparently school have different songs -- he says, "Just a little bit," so I make something up which uses the title of the song he's asked for. Usually he stops me: 'That's Mommy's song." Allrighty then.
Driveway: He has a good nap, and when he wakes up we go play in the driveway. Sometimes this is basketball, but lately it's been worrying ants with sticks. I might have mentioned this before, maybe even last blog. I tell him not to hurt the ants, because I'm soft that way, and mostly we just watch them and occasionally he pokes at them with a stick. The ants are a little faster than Jack so it's mostly okay.
Yard: We hit the baseball around, off his tee-ball set. Sometimes he looks into the Big Kids yard; nothing doing. Haven't seen them much lately, maybe they're at camp or whatever it is kids that age do in the summer.
Dinner: Mommy is home, and we usually have something easy on Thursday, because we're both too beat to do anything major. For the life of me I can't recall what we had, just two days ago. Hmm. Hot dogs were Friday....maybe pasta, I dunno.
Bed: Mommy puts Jack to bed, because Daddy needs a break from Jack. And that's pretty much Thursday, more or less, these days.
I'm going to miss it.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Been a Busy Week, so...
I'm going to go day by day since the last post. Here goes:
July 4: Independence Day! Which for Jack meant, staying in his pajamas most of the morning, Daddy going out to get donuts, and then heading over to Aunt Cathy's to play with his cousins in the scorching heat. Jack first wanted to ride in his big car, and then the girls were on tricycles, and so HE wanted to be on a tricycle, and then there was a bit of a scene where he wanted Stacey's and she wouldn't give it up and of course Lyndsay wasn't even using hers which was exactly the same, but Jack didn't want that. Then I took Jack home for his nap, and after he woke up he immediately wanted to go back to his cousins, which we did, for hot dogs and salad and I'm not sure but I believe Jack ate an entire grove of grapes. It was overcast that night so fireworks were limited and Jack slept through them and I'm pretty sure we didn't see a one, except on TV. Oh, aside from Ian setting off a few bottle rockets off the porch which mostly fizzled, but about 1 out of every 5 actually went "Bang," and when it did the girls and Jack all jumped happily in the air and said Hurrah! It was pretty funny.
July 5: Drive to Vermont, dinner in Vermont, ice cream for dessert, and then Jack having a bad cold and cough and not sleeping well, and us not sleeping well, and all being very tired. BUT, Jack immediately took to Vermont and Nana and Baba, like he'd never been away, and wanted Baba to read stories to him before bed, and so he did (Harry at the Beach, for the record). It was all very nice.
July 6: Everyone's tired, but Daddy and his Daddy go off to play golf and Mommy and Nana entertain Jack with puzzles, books, and the like. When I return from my 18 holes of golf and big lunch, Jack is napping and everything went well. It's a long nap, which figures since he was exhausted. That evening we get food takeout from the Country Kreemee -- burgers, hotdogs, fries. Not memorable. Nana and Baba get fried scallops and we discuss the risks inherent in getting seafood from a Southern Vermont greasy spoon, but no one got sick as far as I know. Tonight Nana reads Jack stories, and Jack -- perhaps because he had such a good nap -- doesn't sleep until 9:30, a record for him I believe.
July 7: Jack's 2 and a half! And a wreck from sleeping probably 7 hours or so, tops. Still, we're a hardy bunch and we head out to the Agricultural Fair anyway. Jack falls asleep in his car seat halfway down the driveway. We stop by Mrs. Hunter's, because Nana said we would, and she gives us a jar of homemade strawberry jam (with the benefit of having now eaten it I can say, top-notch!) and admires Jack through the car window as he sleeps in her driveway. We head off to the fair, waking Jack up when we get there, and although I was worried, he immediately shows an interest in walking around, seeing the big tractors, sitting on them, and seeing all the animals. The bulls are huge, he pets the sheep, and at the very end comes the highlight: three little pigs! Jack touches them and they snort and he literally jumps with glee. And runs around the pen (Pigpen, get it?) trying to touch them again, while they run around trying to avoid him. Lots of fun, and then we go home and he actually naps again, to everyone's great relief. That night he enjoys his bath again (we play with the rubber shark that I had when I was a child and clearly says 1976 on its side), gets his best night sleep (as do we all), and of course Daddy and his Daddy play Yahtzee, because that's what we do when we're in Vermont.
July 8: In the morning, Mom makes pancakes, which are outstanding. Has to be the secret ingredient: being cooked in bacon fat. Jack eats waffles and bacon, which is great except I don't get any bacon, drat. We drive back to Connecticut, stopping at a Mexican restaurant for lunch, and once we're back I go out to buy an air conditioner because it's 95 degrees outside and 10 degrees warmer in our apartment.
July 9th-July 11th: Too ... hot ... to ... think .... or ... remember ... or ... write .... anything.
July 12th: Today. My first day alone with Jack for a while. And it's good to have these days, to remember that man, he can be a real challenge, and I have no idea how anybody raises a child on their own or stays at home with their child full-time, because it's exhausting, and I have a huge amount of respect for it. But fortunately, he's also wonderful, for example...
-- Telling me to lie down when I tell him I'm tired, and then carrying his little rocking chair over to the couch so he can rock in it, and say "I sing to you. I sing you to sleep." And singing this song called "Pitter Patter" which I don't know where it comes from and if he made it up or not, but it has a line about Winnie the Pooh, I know that much.
-- Talking to his new favorite toy, a soft plastic dragon which is actually part of a game Aunt Robin gave him, but he pretty much disregards the game and just carries the dragon around everywhere. Sometimes he talks to him ("How are you dragon? OK? Shhh. Daddy, I'm talking to my dragon.")
-- Playing out in the driveway, where a brief basketball game is quickly forgotten in favor of sticks fallen from the tree and then ants crawling across the pavement. "What's THAT? Go away, buggy! Hey, what's that buggy DOING?"
And that's pretty much Jack.
July 4: Independence Day! Which for Jack meant, staying in his pajamas most of the morning, Daddy going out to get donuts, and then heading over to Aunt Cathy's to play with his cousins in the scorching heat. Jack first wanted to ride in his big car, and then the girls were on tricycles, and so HE wanted to be on a tricycle, and then there was a bit of a scene where he wanted Stacey's and she wouldn't give it up and of course Lyndsay wasn't even using hers which was exactly the same, but Jack didn't want that. Then I took Jack home for his nap, and after he woke up he immediately wanted to go back to his cousins, which we did, for hot dogs and salad and I'm not sure but I believe Jack ate an entire grove of grapes. It was overcast that night so fireworks were limited and Jack slept through them and I'm pretty sure we didn't see a one, except on TV. Oh, aside from Ian setting off a few bottle rockets off the porch which mostly fizzled, but about 1 out of every 5 actually went "Bang," and when it did the girls and Jack all jumped happily in the air and said Hurrah! It was pretty funny.
July 5: Drive to Vermont, dinner in Vermont, ice cream for dessert, and then Jack having a bad cold and cough and not sleeping well, and us not sleeping well, and all being very tired. BUT, Jack immediately took to Vermont and Nana and Baba, like he'd never been away, and wanted Baba to read stories to him before bed, and so he did (Harry at the Beach, for the record). It was all very nice.
July 6: Everyone's tired, but Daddy and his Daddy go off to play golf and Mommy and Nana entertain Jack with puzzles, books, and the like. When I return from my 18 holes of golf and big lunch, Jack is napping and everything went well. It's a long nap, which figures since he was exhausted. That evening we get food takeout from the Country Kreemee -- burgers, hotdogs, fries. Not memorable. Nana and Baba get fried scallops and we discuss the risks inherent in getting seafood from a Southern Vermont greasy spoon, but no one got sick as far as I know. Tonight Nana reads Jack stories, and Jack -- perhaps because he had such a good nap -- doesn't sleep until 9:30, a record for him I believe.
July 7: Jack's 2 and a half! And a wreck from sleeping probably 7 hours or so, tops. Still, we're a hardy bunch and we head out to the Agricultural Fair anyway. Jack falls asleep in his car seat halfway down the driveway. We stop by Mrs. Hunter's, because Nana said we would, and she gives us a jar of homemade strawberry jam (with the benefit of having now eaten it I can say, top-notch!) and admires Jack through the car window as he sleeps in her driveway. We head off to the fair, waking Jack up when we get there, and although I was worried, he immediately shows an interest in walking around, seeing the big tractors, sitting on them, and seeing all the animals. The bulls are huge, he pets the sheep, and at the very end comes the highlight: three little pigs! Jack touches them and they snort and he literally jumps with glee. And runs around the pen (Pigpen, get it?) trying to touch them again, while they run around trying to avoid him. Lots of fun, and then we go home and he actually naps again, to everyone's great relief. That night he enjoys his bath again (we play with the rubber shark that I had when I was a child and clearly says 1976 on its side), gets his best night sleep (as do we all), and of course Daddy and his Daddy play Yahtzee, because that's what we do when we're in Vermont.
July 8: In the morning, Mom makes pancakes, which are outstanding. Has to be the secret ingredient: being cooked in bacon fat. Jack eats waffles and bacon, which is great except I don't get any bacon, drat. We drive back to Connecticut, stopping at a Mexican restaurant for lunch, and once we're back I go out to buy an air conditioner because it's 95 degrees outside and 10 degrees warmer in our apartment.
July 9th-July 11th: Too ... hot ... to ... think .... or ... remember ... or ... write .... anything.
July 12th: Today. My first day alone with Jack for a while. And it's good to have these days, to remember that man, he can be a real challenge, and I have no idea how anybody raises a child on their own or stays at home with their child full-time, because it's exhausting, and I have a huge amount of respect for it. But fortunately, he's also wonderful, for example...
-- Telling me to lie down when I tell him I'm tired, and then carrying his little rocking chair over to the couch so he can rock in it, and say "I sing to you. I sing you to sleep." And singing this song called "Pitter Patter" which I don't know where it comes from and if he made it up or not, but it has a line about Winnie the Pooh, I know that much.
-- Talking to his new favorite toy, a soft plastic dragon which is actually part of a game Aunt Robin gave him, but he pretty much disregards the game and just carries the dragon around everywhere. Sometimes he talks to him ("How are you dragon? OK? Shhh. Daddy, I'm talking to my dragon.")
-- Playing out in the driveway, where a brief basketball game is quickly forgotten in favor of sticks fallen from the tree and then ants crawling across the pavement. "What's THAT? Go away, buggy! Hey, what's that buggy DOING?"
And that's pretty much Jack.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Mr. Inquisitive
Jack's young, so he doesn't know a lot yet. He asks a lot of questions...
- At dinner, looking out the same window he's been looking out for the past 8 months: "What's that big tree DOING?" Us: "Um....he's just standing there." Jack: "Oh." Then: "But what's he DOING?" And then, because I think he asked the question another night, and I gave this answer, he said, "He's guarding the other trees."
- "What's THAT?" "Er, that's your chair." (Or something equally ordinary.) "Oh." And then: "What's THAT?" "That's Daddy's drink." "Can I SEE it?" "Sure, sure." Looks. Then: "Can I TASTE it?" "No, that's just for Daddys." "Can I TOUCH it?" "No, no." "Want to see it." And so he does.
- Not so much a question, but more a request that can't possibly be met. We're reading a book, that shows animals standing outside a building or something. "Want them to go in the house," or "Want him to wear his hat," or "Want him to go inside." In some respects, Jack wants to change what happens in his books -- he wants to be able to move the characters around himself.
- Jack sometimes shows only minimal interest in his meals, but he has tons of interest in his play food. His big thing now is to set up chairs on his "table," which is actually a play store, and set up meals of plastic pancakes, waffles, etc. And no, this has nothing to do with the topic, but it's what he's been doing a lot of lately.
- We've been talking up going to Nana's and Baba's house, where we're going in a couple of days. Jack's in favor of the idea, as he enjoys them and the various toys there -- ones we had as kids.
Yesterday he asked Emily, "Are we going to Nana and Baba's house?" "Yes," she said. Then he asked, "Will Nana and Baba be there?"
- His favorite stuffed toy seems to change by the week; this week it's Winnie the Pooh. The other night he wailed for us, and I thought he was saying he was poopy. Nope -- he was looking for Pooh.
- At dinner, looking out the same window he's been looking out for the past 8 months: "What's that big tree DOING?" Us: "Um....he's just standing there." Jack: "Oh." Then: "But what's he DOING?" And then, because I think he asked the question another night, and I gave this answer, he said, "He's guarding the other trees."
- "What's THAT?" "Er, that's your chair." (Or something equally ordinary.) "Oh." And then: "What's THAT?" "That's Daddy's drink." "Can I SEE it?" "Sure, sure." Looks. Then: "Can I TASTE it?" "No, that's just for Daddys." "Can I TOUCH it?" "No, no." "Want to see it." And so he does.
- Not so much a question, but more a request that can't possibly be met. We're reading a book, that shows animals standing outside a building or something. "Want them to go in the house," or "Want him to wear his hat," or "Want him to go inside." In some respects, Jack wants to change what happens in his books -- he wants to be able to move the characters around himself.
- Jack sometimes shows only minimal interest in his meals, but he has tons of interest in his play food. His big thing now is to set up chairs on his "table," which is actually a play store, and set up meals of plastic pancakes, waffles, etc. And no, this has nothing to do with the topic, but it's what he's been doing a lot of lately.
- We've been talking up going to Nana's and Baba's house, where we're going in a couple of days. Jack's in favor of the idea, as he enjoys them and the various toys there -- ones we had as kids.
Yesterday he asked Emily, "Are we going to Nana and Baba's house?" "Yes," she said. Then he asked, "Will Nana and Baba be there?"
- His favorite stuffed toy seems to change by the week; this week it's Winnie the Pooh. The other night he wailed for us, and I thought he was saying he was poopy. Nope -- he was looking for Pooh.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Vacation
Short vacations are interesting. Just about the time everyone gets adjusted and settled in, it's time to go home.
That's sort of how it was on our trip to The Cape, for four days last week. Jack didn't sleep well -- we were all in the same room, basically a disaster, but that's what we get for not making our plans sooner than we did -- and didn't nap at all on our first full day there, with the result being he was terribly cranky that evening and terribly exhausted the next day. Then he had a great nap Saturday and we all had fun that afternoon, evening, and the next morning. And had to leave.
Best way to handle this trip is a highlights/lowlights sort of post....
Highlight: Our room was ready and beautiful, with a picturesque view out over the beach and the ocean. Since we'd never been there and really didn't know what to expect, it was shocking -- we couldn't have picked a better room. A Room With a View.
Lowlight: It was one room, which we knew, but we also had these illusions of us hanging out on the balcony while Jack slept. Yuh. No lights out there, and Jack took a while to fall asleep each night (because it was all new to him, being in the same room with us), so a lot of the time we were in the room was trying to get Jack to sleep or dealing with him being unhappy because he was exhausted.
Highlight: First time we stepped onto the beach, Jack was afraid to put his feet down -- for about 2 seconds, after which he ran across it like he was Lawrence of Arabia. He didn't want to go in the water -- not many people did, actually, because it was cold and dense with seaweed near the shore -- but that was okay. (Later I asked him, Jack, what was your favorite part of the beach? Jack: "Um. Seaweed!" That might have had something to do with us buying "Harry At the Beach" before the trip, a great book about Harry the Dog getting covered in seaweed.)
Lowlight: Not many, beyond the fact that the first day there high winds drove us from the beach with sand stinging our eyes. It got better though.
Highlight: Jack loved the beach. He ran about -- faster than we expected, once we turned and he was halfway over to the playground just seconds after we'd last seen him -- and collected rocks and shells, and built sand castles with Daddy, and played with his truck. And the great thing is, since we don't live in Denver anymore, we can keep going to the beach over the next few months! Probably go Thursday, in fact.
The absolute best moment was Jack's efforts to meet a seagull. He ran toward them when he saw them, and they flew off easily. He'd stop and yell: "Hey! Big Bird! Where you going?" And: "Hello, big bird! Hello! Where you going!" And he'd run off again. I'd say, Jack, I don't think you're going to catch the bird. And Jack said, "I want him to say Hello to me." I explained, well, Jack, I don't think he's going to say hello to you... And no sooner had I got the words out than one of the birds made a cawing, squawking noise. Emily and I were kind of dumbstruck, while Jack said, "He said Hello to me! The bird said hello to me!" Yep, he did.
Lowlight: Probably meals, since the first restaurant was just mediocre (and Jack was rambunctious), the resort's lunch was weak (and dinner available until "in-season," which started, er, today), we were too tired to do anything but order pizza into the room the second night, and it was only later that I found out about a seafood place that had counter-style ordering, which would have been ideal. Oh well, next year.
Highlight: Jack's exhausted 3-hour nap on Saturday, where he was nearly falling asleep on the beach that morning and ultimately we went back to the room and I sang him to sleep with about two lines of a song. That resulted in us getting takeout lunch/dinner from a nearby seafood restaurant, with me getting a huge plate of steamers (excellent) and various sides. Can't get anything like that in Colorado.
Lowlight: I guess the not sleeping thing should be mentioned again, especially since I'm going to have to wrap this up to try to catch up.
Highlight: Two things that must be mentioned before I go to bed.
We went to a Cape Cod League baseball game, which we wanted to do and thought Jack might enjoy, since his grandpa takes him to his Uncle Ian's softball games on Sunday mornings. We walk through the gate, the game is going on, I'm holding Jack who's looking around, and the first thing he says is, "Where's the playground?" We didn't stay long.
Second: ice cream. I don't think there's much more fun than watching Jack eat ice cream. We went out the last two nights there, each more fun than the night before. As the picture at right, assuming I uploaded it properly, makes clear.
One last highlight is, of course, Jack himself. He goes off on little speeches, waving his arms expansively, about the birds, or the water, or the seaweed, or the food, or his books, or his toys, or "big kids" he saw across the beach. He peppers us with questions ("What's that girl doing? What's that man doing? Where are they going? What are those birds doing?") Hearing him go off about this or that, so invested in what he's saying or asking -- it just never fails to amuse.
Which is why vacation was great, and always is.
That's sort of how it was on our trip to The Cape, for four days last week. Jack didn't sleep well -- we were all in the same room, basically a disaster, but that's what we get for not making our plans sooner than we did -- and didn't nap at all on our first full day there, with the result being he was terribly cranky that evening and terribly exhausted the next day. Then he had a great nap Saturday and we all had fun that afternoon, evening, and the next morning. And had to leave.
Best way to handle this trip is a highlights/lowlights sort of post....
Highlight: Our room was ready and beautiful, with a picturesque view out over the beach and the ocean. Since we'd never been there and really didn't know what to expect, it was shocking -- we couldn't have picked a better room. A Room With a View.
Lowlight: It was one room, which we knew, but we also had these illusions of us hanging out on the balcony while Jack slept. Yuh. No lights out there, and Jack took a while to fall asleep each night (because it was all new to him, being in the same room with us), so a lot of the time we were in the room was trying to get Jack to sleep or dealing with him being unhappy because he was exhausted.
Highlight: First time we stepped onto the beach, Jack was afraid to put his feet down -- for about 2 seconds, after which he ran across it like he was Lawrence of Arabia. He didn't want to go in the water -- not many people did, actually, because it was cold and dense with seaweed near the shore -- but that was okay. (Later I asked him, Jack, what was your favorite part of the beach? Jack: "Um. Seaweed!" That might have had something to do with us buying "Harry At the Beach" before the trip, a great book about Harry the Dog getting covered in seaweed.)
Lowlight: Not many, beyond the fact that the first day there high winds drove us from the beach with sand stinging our eyes. It got better though.
Highlight: Jack loved the beach. He ran about -- faster than we expected, once we turned and he was halfway over to the playground just seconds after we'd last seen him -- and collected rocks and shells, and built sand castles with Daddy, and played with his truck. And the great thing is, since we don't live in Denver anymore, we can keep going to the beach over the next few months! Probably go Thursday, in fact.
The absolute best moment was Jack's efforts to meet a seagull. He ran toward them when he saw them, and they flew off easily. He'd stop and yell: "Hey! Big Bird! Where you going?" And: "Hello, big bird! Hello! Where you going!" And he'd run off again. I'd say, Jack, I don't think you're going to catch the bird. And Jack said, "I want him to say Hello to me." I explained, well, Jack, I don't think he's going to say hello to you... And no sooner had I got the words out than one of the birds made a cawing, squawking noise. Emily and I were kind of dumbstruck, while Jack said, "He said Hello to me! The bird said hello to me!" Yep, he did.
Lowlight: Probably meals, since the first restaurant was just mediocre (and Jack was rambunctious), the resort's lunch was weak (and dinner available until "in-season," which started, er, today), we were too tired to do anything but order pizza into the room the second night, and it was only later that I found out about a seafood place that had counter-style ordering, which would have been ideal. Oh well, next year.
Highlight: Jack's exhausted 3-hour nap on Saturday, where he was nearly falling asleep on the beach that morning and ultimately we went back to the room and I sang him to sleep with about two lines of a song. That resulted in us getting takeout lunch/dinner from a nearby seafood restaurant, with me getting a huge plate of steamers (excellent) and various sides. Can't get anything like that in Colorado.
Lowlight: I guess the not sleeping thing should be mentioned again, especially since I'm going to have to wrap this up to try to catch up.
Highlight: Two things that must be mentioned before I go to bed.
We went to a Cape Cod League baseball game, which we wanted to do and thought Jack might enjoy, since his grandpa takes him to his Uncle Ian's softball games on Sunday mornings. We walk through the gate, the game is going on, I'm holding Jack who's looking around, and the first thing he says is, "Where's the playground?" We didn't stay long.
Second: ice cream. I don't think there's much more fun than watching Jack eat ice cream. We went out the last two nights there, each more fun than the night before. As the picture at right, assuming I uploaded it properly, makes clear.
One last highlight is, of course, Jack himself. He goes off on little speeches, waving his arms expansively, about the birds, or the water, or the seaweed, or the food, or his books, or his toys, or "big kids" he saw across the beach. He peppers us with questions ("What's that girl doing? What's that man doing? Where are they going? What are those birds doing?") Hearing him go off about this or that, so invested in what he's saying or asking -- it just never fails to amuse.
Which is why vacation was great, and always is.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Going on Ay-caytion
We're going on vacation at the end of the week, kind of a mini one to the Cape, so we've been talking it up. Jack has come around, saying "We're going on Ay-caytion?" So he's into the idea.
Tonight I brought out our luggage, which we really haven't used in a while, and Jack might not even have remembered it. "These are our suitcases," I said. "The bags we'll bring on vacation." Jack nodded and proceeded to drag his turtle bag around the upstairs hallway for a few minutes.
Later, as I was trying to get Jack back into his bed for the umpteenth time, I helped sell the idea by saying, "You've got to rest up, because we're going on vacation at the end of the week."
Jack: "Ay-caytion?" That's right, I said.
Jack: "Are we going to bring our caysing bags?"Our suitcases, Jack, that's right.
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