7.13.2012

One

Happy birthday, sweet boy



You are loved beyond words, adored beyond measure.



7.12.2012

7/12/11

A year ago tonight I went to SoCal dinner at Steph's where we ate Papa Murphy's pizza and Margie's delish salad. I thought I might have been having contractions. I was right.


I went home, spent some time with D, and went to bed.  At 12:42 I woke up to, what else, pee. But then I felt like I had to do more than that. I tried and tried with no success, went back to bed, but didn't want to wake D, so I went downstairs to watch tv. I couldn't sit still so I googled "what does labor feel like." I read a yahoo answer that described exactly how I was feeling. Even still, I was in denial. My mom wasn't coming for five more days because we were convinced there was no way I would have him early, so, logically, he was going to stay put for five more days.


I flipped and flopped on the couch; tried to go the bathroom over and over again; finally, I sat on the yoga ball to bounce or do some stupid move I learned in our labor and delivery class. Rather than me popping the ball like I worried about, the ball popped me.  Broken water, all over the place, just like in the movies. I waddled upstairs to let D know it was time.  It was almost 2am on the dot.  I'll never forget the look on his face- as he is with just about everything in life, he looked confident, excited, and completely ready to go.  I don't know how I was expecting to feel, but I certainly didn't think I would be as calm as I was. 

After changing my pants six times (no one tells you when your water breaks that it's like a freakin' faucet), we headed out the door. 


The rest of the story is too long to get into in a single blog entry, but it was eventful, as all birth stories are.


In five minutes it will be my boy's first birthday, but I wanted to take the time to remember the events leading up to 10:13am on 7/13/11...

7.05.2012

Quatro de Julio

I don't know what's up with my Spanish titles lately...


Jack Wyatt's first 4th was a big day, and not just because it was the first day it actually felt like summer. 


He kissed a boy:


And he took two and a half steps on his own!

Mi Casa es Su Casa


We've been in our new house two weeks and I never even gave our old home, neighborhood, or neighbors a proper good-bye. 

To our neighbors three doors down who kept their Christmas lights up all year and the other neighbors around the corner who kept a pumpkin in their front window from October to October, thank you for your festive nature, and good-bye.

To the teenage boy who washed his parents' cars every. single. Saturday morning.  Good work, and good-bye.


To the woman two doors down who wore a different wig for each day of the week.  You are lovely, and good-bye.


To our next door neighbor "boy" who I thought never grew in four years but actually was three different boys, please don't throw garbage in your new neighbors' yard or taunt their sweet dog, and good-bye.

To the Hasidic Jews down the street.  You are the happiest, most beautiful, kind, and fulfilled people I've ever observed.  I hope to raise my children to be as well-behaved and content as yours, and good-bye.


To the neighbors directly across from us who we never spoke to until we brought Jack home from the hospital and then who completely spoiled us with food, baby clothes, and gifts- we will never forget your kindness.  Thank you tremendously, and good-bye.


I will miss our pretty bathroom.  I will miss the park across the street.  And probably not much else.


I will always love this house because it's where I found out I was pregnant, and it's where we brought home our son for the 11 and a half months of his life.


Good-bye, funnily-designed house. 

6.29.2012

11 Months



How can there only be one more month to go in your baby-hood?  In less than a few weeks, I will be the mom to a toddler.  My mind is blown. 

What I want to remember about you from past month:

- You weigh 25.5 lbs with clothes on.

- You're wearing 18-24 month clothes- I can't keep up with how fast you're growing. I leave for work and your pants fit; by the time I get home, you're ready for a flood.

- You hardly let us feed you anymore- you pretty much insist on doing it yourself.  Your Papa, AKA Cleany McCleanerson, shutters with each one of your flung spoonfuls of yogurt and dropped cheese.




- You love to open and close, open and close, open and close doors and drawers.  Sometimes you get mad when you're sitting in the way of the door.  You haven't figured out that you only have yourself to blame. 

- You've completely given up the army crawl and taken to being a super-speedy regular crawler.  This is, of course, when you're actually not standing, which is hardly ever these days. 

- I think you're close to walking, but maybe you'll take your time.  I'd be okay with that.  Really.



- You even like to stand when you're supposed to be sitting in shopping carts.  Regardless of how tight I strap you in, you are a ninja and always escape.  Apparently the surrounding food is just too tempting.

-  You're trying to figure out what clapping is all about, but you're not too interested. 


- You "talk" a lot- mostly babbling, but you also pepper in "Mama," "Dada," and  "kitty" (sounds like "kkkkkeeeyyy"); you also make a hissing-like noise at Amelia and Tar.  It's cute.

-  You are, however, much, much more interested in books.  I think your Papa is reading a book with you about natural beauty remedies in this pic:

(Bananas in your hair?  For reals?)

- The two of us flew solo, Sea-Tac to Logan.  3,073 miles by myself with a little person who doesn't like to sit still:


I didn't really think about how terrifying this would be until a few days before we left.  Your Papa thought I was nuts. Turns out you were pretty awesome- and just about everyone on the plane let you know it.  Thank God for the extra middle seat on the way out- which I unabashedly claimed as my own- and for the sweet, generous man sitting next to us on the way home who was perfectly fine with you kicking him while you soothed yourself to sleep (another thing you do these days- usually it's just with your left leg), nawing on his extra iPhone case, and eating his cheese- he even went to far as to offer to hold you to give me a break. 

- The trip to Boston was quick, but so worth it. 

You spent some time with your Grampie and Kiki:


Watched two of your besties get baptized:


Got seriously loved on by some doggies:

(Finally!) Met and talked shop with Uncle Ry:
                                                       (See Ry trying to make a little Republican out of you?  You look like you're seriously contemplating it.)

Met and hung out with Auntie Cathy, Uncle David, and Emily- they had to meet you in person to believe that a boy was acutally produced on this side of the family:


And finally, your Grampie taught you another way to clear out your snot.  Take that, NoseFrida!




- You had MAJOR sleep regression for a couple of weeks. I'm talking worse than newborn-type sleeping. I didn't know if I'd survive. But I did. And I still love you a lot.

- Your top teeth popped through and you look so different. SO old. 



Jack Wyatt, you are loving.  You are funny.  You are curious.  You never sit still.  You sometimes are so very, very serious.  You are the sweetest part of each and every one of my days, and I love every single thing about you.  I don't want you to grow up so fast, but I love watching who you're becoming.  I love you, sweet boy!


6.18.2012

a belated wish

Happy Father's Day to the best man I know:



I'm so happy he's my baby daddy.




And lots of love to my Daddy and my Mitch.  Thank you for loving me no matter what.

6.01.2012

Ten Months



Considering it's officially June, and the boy is now closer to 11 months, I should probably get this 10 month post posted.

Double digits. I can't believe it.  Is it selfish that I'm sad?  It's bitter-sweet- so fun to watch him grow big, and so sad that he's not my bitty baby anymore...

Things I want to remember about this past month:

The Burt Reynolds pose.  He twists around his feet for comfort- sometimes when he's hungry and sometimes when he's tired.  He also tugs at his sideburns when he's dozing off to sleep.  He has become the world's craziest nurser- he stands up/crawls/or faces me head on while eating, and never for more than 11 seconds at a time.  He just does not want to sit down- he pulls up on everything, even my legs.  He's crusing all around the house and crawling all over- we called him "Danger Baby."  For a couple of weeks, I could mezmerize him with a nighly, post-tubby baby massage.  He will walk if we hold his hands.  Like every baby at this age, he's a magnet for anything he's not supposed to touch- cords, vases, dog bowls (someone was pissed when he tipped over his 118 lbs. dog's water bowl which is actually the size of a painter's bucket), pantry items. Just when you think you have everything baby-proofed...He's not very interested in his toys these days.  We've moved away from purees and on to more and more people food- aside from the pinch of plain steal-cut oatmeal I gave him about five months ago that he thought was poison, I'm not sure there's anything he doesn't like.  He especially loves the smoothies we make in the mornings.  He's trying his damnest to be BFFs with Tar and Amelia. He's won Tar over with his spilled food, but Amelia is threatened.  He wears mostly 12-18 month clothing, and weighs 23.7 lbs.  He is so very, very vocal- yayaya, dadadada, gagagaga.  He's started making a face and a sound simultaneously- we call it the "ooouuuoohh" face.  It's not "ooouuuoohh," like "ooh, that's cool."  It's more like "ooouuuoohh, no you di'int." (Did you know that's the proper spelling of di'int?  I cross referenced Urban Dictionary to be sure.)  He still only two teeth, but we're pretty sure the top four are coming in as well.  He freakin' LOVES cheese- can't shovel it in his mouth quickly enough- he is his mother's son.  He's starting to get more interested in books (be still, this former English teacher's beating heart!) but mostly just the front and back covers.He will stand for a few seconds at a time by himself; he learned quickly how to fall on his butt.  I saw a brand new, 4-day-old baby and I longed for another. I know. Already. I'm out of my mind.

I wish I could record every single thing he does so I don't forget...




Jack Wyatt, you are the very best thing that ever happened to me and your papa.  We love you more than all the stars in the sky.  Wanna know a secret...we watch videos of you after you go to bed because we miss you- how nerdy is that? 

xoxoxo