Babies are weird, man

From the age of 12 to about 16, babysitting was my main source of income. I have also been an aunt since the age of 14. As such, I have had my fair share of putting babies and kids to bed. In my experience, babies who cry themselves to sleep start off with gusto and then taper off over the next 10-15 minutes with maybe one last, pathetic “Eh!” before finally settling down to sleep for the night.

Not my baby.

My baby doesn’t cry himself to sleep at all… or so we thought. Lately, he has been protesting his naps and bedtime about fifty percent of the time. When he does cry, instead of the 10-15 minutes of winding down exhibited by typical babies, Jack does this:

“AAAAHHHHHH!” (breath) “AAAAHHHHHH!” (breath) “AAAAHHHHHH!” (breath) “AAAAHHHHHH!” (breath) “AAAAHHHHHH!” (breath) “AAAAHHHHHH!” (breath)
“AAAAHHHHHH!” (silence)

You think that last silence is just him taking a breath for the next yell, but… nope! He’s done! The whole process takes maybe 2-3 minutes. On a bad night, it takes 15. It’s at these times that I wish we had a video monitor just so I could see what the heck he’s doing in there. Does he fall asleep mid cry? Does he just decide he’s too tired for all that effort? He’s usually standing up when I leave, so at what point does he lie down?

On nights like these, this is what I imagine is happening in his head:

Why are you leaving me in here all alone? I want another story! I don’t want this stupid bink, I want a story! (snatches bink from mouth, throws it on floor) STORY STORY STORY STORY STORY! (looks around crib, finds second bink, picks it up for the express purpose of throwing it on the floor) I can’t BELIEVE they left me in here all alone! And with no binks! I’m in my bed, I get to have a bink! That’s the rule! How am I supposed to go to sleep with no bink? WHERE IS MY BIN-- (notices third and fourth spare binks in the crib) Oh, wait. There’s one. (puts bink in mouth, ceases crying, lies down, strokes blankie, goes to sleep.)

But of course, I don’t know. All I know is that we have to listen carefully to hear the difference between angry, “I don’t WANNA go to sleep” yells and scared “I want my mommy and where is my bink*?” cries which don’t end, but just get louder.

So, yeah. Babies are weird.

*All four of your binks are on the FLOOR WHERE YOU THREW THEM. Sigh.

Some firsts I'd rather skip

The first year of your child's life is just a series of milestones, one after the other. The first smile. The first word. The first steps. The first trip to the emergency room.

Yes, last Sunday, The Husband and I had the delightful pleasure of taking our baby to the ER to make sure he had not jammed his teeth back up into his head possibly embedding them in his brain. (Short version: He hadn't.) It had happened very suddenly. We had just gotten back from church and The Husband was making grilled cheese sandwiches while I searched for a recipe for cranberry bread and Jack played in the cabinet with the pots and pans. The next thing we knew, he had fallen on his face and blood was pouring from his mouth. Mouths bleed a lot, people.

This was not our first experience with this phenomenon, because Jack has fallen on his mouth at least four other times this year. This was more blood than I had seen, however, and I find bleeding from the mouth particularly troubling, as it is very difficult to see the extent of the damage what with all the crying and wailing and blood pouring out and all. Does he need stitches? Who can tell? At any rate, I held Jack upside down to try and look in there and in the brief flashes I could get, it looked to me like Jack's two front teeth had receded into his gums by at least 50%. I said, "That's it, we're going to the emergency room," and off we went.

I should take a moment here to tell The Husband's side of the story, which is that I "panic" every time Jack gets hurt. He bases this claim on the way I say, "Oh! He's bleeding! Oh! Oh! The blood! Does he need stitches? Should we take him to the ER? How do we clean it? Oh, he's swollen! His lip is swollen! The blood! The blood!" and things along those lines. But it is my position that I do not panic, it's just that I let The Husband be the one in charge of determining the extent of the damage while I take over the job of comforting the screaming, bleeding baby. I do this because I can let him be the one in charge. He's right there, all ready to take charge with his cool, calm, former lifeguard head. If he were not there, however, I would be quite capable of cleaning up the blood and driving to the ER all by myself, because I'd have to be. So no, I don't panic.

So. The ER. The Husband and I were pretty sure that Jack's teeth were probably fine, because he wasn't even crying anymore by the time we were packing him into his car seat, but we weren't going to take any chances with his teeth. He was triaged and registered within 20 minutes of our arrival, and then we had to settle down to wait. The Husband bought Jack a muffin because none of us had had lunch, and Jack had no problems chomping away at it. By the time we were finally seen by the nurse practitioner, Jack was biting a paper cup and pulling on it with his hands, further convincing us that his teeth were fine.

When the NP took a look, he told us that Jack had split his funiculus (that piece of skin that connects the top lip to the gums), but that his teeth looked fine to him. His gums had just swollen up, and that was what made me think his teeth had been jammed. The NP did suggest that we get a dentist to take an x-ray to make sure there was no root damage, and we did that on Saturday. Actually, we didn't. We took him to the dentist, but the dentist said an x-ray wasn't really necessary since Jack's teeth weren't even chipped.

And so it all ended well. Jack's teeth are fine, his funiculus appears to have healed, and we've all agreed that he has filled his quota of accidents for the next year and there will be no more falling on his mouth. We've AGREED.

23 rounds down to 20

So Thanksgiving was yesterday, and we hosted the family dinner this year. This may have been mentioned on this website at some point. Claims may have also been made that The Husband and I were preparing a turkey dinner for 30 people, but these claims, as it turns out, were a bit inflated.

First of all, yes, we prepared a turkey dinner insofar as we roasted a turkey. We also roasted some sweet potatoes, I made a pumpkin pie and a cheesecake, and we bought a couple of appetizers. But that’s it. We farmed the rest of the food out to various family members.

Speaking of family members, did I say there were 30 of them? Because there aren’t. The total number of people requiring a place setting at the table was actually only 23. Adding in the three babies under two and the one adult who couldn’t make it brought the total to 27. This was the number I was carrying around in my head and rounding up to 30. Thirty people! We were going to have 30 people for dinner! Except we weren’t!

As it turned out, 23 people fit quite comfortably around our borrowed tables, and no one had to use plastic utensils. The turkey wasn’t dry at all, despite being done an hour and a half early. Jack, who is quite fond of cranberry sauce, only hollered a little bit during dinner. (The other babies made not a peep.) (Also, the other babies did not throw 90% of their dinners on the floor.) (Note: none of Jack’s cranberry sauce was thrown on the floor.) We also got my parents to bring over their Nintendo Wii, and The Husband set it up in the attic after supper. Strangely, that is just about when the teenagers disappeared.

All in all, it was a good day. If you’ll pardon me for a moment of cheesiness, The Husband and I are blessed with an incredible family, and have a lot to be thankful for. More than most, I’d say.

Communication

Today, Jack slept until 8:00, so I didn't even try to put him down for a nap until 11:00. He went down easily, but started complaining about five minutes after I left the room. I went back in to soothe him back down, but he was having none of it. He was talking, joking, pointing out my ears... the whole nine yards. Since I have a policy of not killing myself getting him to take a nap if he doesn't want to, I gave up and said, "OK, but if you aren't going to take a nap, you have to give me the bink."

I'll be damned if he didn't hand it over!

Bad timing

I knew it was a bad idea to let Jack play with the key that goes to our kitchen hutch, but I did it anyway, and now it's gone and all of our serving dishes and teapots are safely locked away. There they will remain for Thanksgiving, which is at our house. Have I mentioned that?

OK, I'm exaggerating for comedic effect, because it's not like the lock to our kitchen hutch is designed to keep out Nicky Holiday and his gang of burgling models. he Husband is picking it as I type. But still.

Cloth Diapering Manifesto: Part II

Modern cloth diapers are not your mama’s cloth diapers. If you are pregnant and mention to someone that you’re planning to use cloth diapers, there’s a good chance you’ll get a condescending, pitying smile at your naiveté. “Oh, sure,” they think. “She says that now, but she’s not going to want to deal with the hard work of cloth diapers when she’s faced with an actual infant instead of hypothetical dream baby who never poops.” But this sort of attitude just makes using cloth diapers all the more sweet, because you can rub your success in their faces. Not that I am the sort of person who would do that.

So what makes today’s cloth diapers so much better? First of all, no pins. Second of all, one-step diapering. And third and holiest of all, the diaper sprayer. But I’m getting ahead of myself, so let’s just start with the different types of diapers.

Prefolds

Prefolds are the old-fashioned diapers your parents used on you, back in the day. (Please don’t tell me that you are old enough to have worn modern disposable diapers and are now considering cloth for your own children. Let’s all pretend that you are the same age as me. Or older! Older is fine.) They come in two flavors*: Indian and Chinese. Frankly, I only just discovered the difference between them. It seems that Indian prefolds are softer, but therefore less durable than Chinese prefolds. Both kinds cost somewhere around $1 each.

Prefolds must be used in conjunction with a diaper cover. They can be fastened with a pin, a Snappi, or you can just use the diaper cover to hold the diaper in place. Snappis are rubbery little things with teeth that hold the diapers in place by tension. Here, just look at one. They are hard to describe in words, but easy to use.

Prefold Pros: Cheap cheap cheapity cheap cheap. Remember how I said in Part I that cloth diapering costs $400-$500 at the start? Not if you use prefolds. Also, these are easy to rinse because there is no elastic to trap the… uh… particles.

Prefold Cons: Fancy diaper covers and Snappis aside, these are kind of tricky to put on a squirmy baby. Probably not as tricky as you think, but certainly much more difficult than disposables. Also, the prefold-plus-diaper cover is very bulky.

Fitted or Contoured Diapers

Contoured diapers are, well, contoured. There is no messing around with folding a square diaper into the correct shape because they are already shaped like a diaper. Fitted diapers are contoured diapers with elastic legs so that they… fit. Both fitted and contours usually also have snaps or other fastener built into the construction, so they are pretty easy to put on; they work pretty much like disposable. They are still made of only cloth, though, so just like prefolds, they must be used in conjunction with a diaper cover.

There are a lot of different brands of fitted diapers. The ones I am aware of off the top of my head are Mother-ease, Kissluvs, and Swaddlebees. They all look adorable to me, but I can’t be bothered with a diaper cover, so I’ve never used them.

Fitted and Contour Pros: These are much easier to put on a baby than a prefold. They can be made of natural (and even organic) fibers. Um. Have I mentioned I don’t use them?

Fitted and Contour Cons: They are easier to use than a prefold, but also more expensive. A quick look online gave me a range of price from about $7 - $15 each, depending on the brand. They still require a separate diaper cover, which is an extra step.

Pocket diapers

Pocket diapers are kind of like a diaper cover but with a cloth lining that makes a pocket against the waterproof material into which you stuff something absorbent. The fasteners are built in as either snaps or Velcro tabs. No diaper cover is required, but you do have to take the diapers apart to wash them.

Pocket Diaper Pros: These are very easy to use because they go on just like disposables. Absorbency can be adjusted by stuffing them with more or less material, depending on your baby’s needs. They dry very quickly.

Pocket Diaper Cons: These babies ain’t cheap. The brand I use costs $18 new. That is the only con I have though, because I love these diapers.

All-in-ones

AIO diapers are just like pocket diapers except without the pocket. There is no stuffing with absorbent material, and no diaper cover. The fasteners are built in as snaps or Velcro. Basically, these work exactly like disposables in every way except that you wash them instead of throwing them out.

All-in-one Pros: Easy easy easy easy easy. No stuffing, no diaper covers, just wash and wear. They’re also pretty trim and take up relatively little space in a diaper bag.

All-in-one Cons: These are just as pricey as pocket diapers, but they dry more slowly. The absorbency cannot be adjusted.

My reviews

We have a stash of Chinese prefolds seeing as how they are so cheap, and there have been occasions when we have used them as something other than a changing pad. They work just fine. We use Snappis, but sometimes I just let the diaper cover hold the diaper on. As for diaper covers, we have three each of the small, medium and large Bummis Super Whisper Wraps. I also tried a Pro-Wrap, but I hated it. I think the Bummis are worth the extra money because they stay in place much better and because there are places to fasten the Velcro tabs while washing them. My advice is to just buy a bunch of prefolds and a couple of diaper covers even if you’re planning to use one of the other types. They are cheap and come in very handy in an emergency.

As I said above, I love our pocket diapers. Currently, we use bumGenius One Size, and yes, the “One Size” does mean that they fit babies for their whole diaper-wearing life. I know that Maggie had issues putting them on her SMALL BABY back in the day, but I secretly think that they probably would have worked even if they did look ridiculous. And so far, Jack has not outgrown them. So that is another benefit of these particular pocket diapers: they are three times as cheap as diapers that come in three sizes.

We also used FuzziBunz pocket diapers when Jack was a newborn. I liked them well enough, but I had two complaints. First, they fasten with discrete snaps instead of the continuum that is Velcro, and sometimes Jack was in between snap settings. I also think the snaps would be harder to fasten on squirmy one-year-old Jack, but that wasn’t an issue for newborn Jack who lacked the gross motor skills to squirm. Second, they come in small, medium and large and are therefore three times as expensive as the BGOSes. Otherwise I liked them.

I can’t tell you a thing about fitted or contour diapers. I think I have one Mother-ease One Size that I bought on Ebay in Jack’s closet, but it seemed ridiculously huge when he was new, and then we got into a rhythm with the bumGeniuses, so I have still never tried it.

We also have five bumGenius AIOs in medium and five in large. (We didn’t need any smalls because of the FuzziBunzes**.) I like using the AIOs when I’m out and about, because they take up less room in the bag, but also because it is kind of gross to take apart the pocket diapers when they are wet and cold. I don’t know why wet and warm is less disgusting, but there you go.

There are plenty of other brands of pocket diapers and AIOs out there, but I was drowning in a sea of diapering choices, so I just picked one. Well, I picked a few. What I actually did was buy a few each of the different kinds and try them out before ordering a whole supply, and that is my advice to you. Unless you are going to use prefolds, the best diaper for your baby is going to depend on what shape your baby is, as some diapers are better for chubby little pudgy legs, and others are best for skinny little chicken legs.

I should also mention that there are mysterious wool diaper covers available for people who use diapers that require covers. Apparently, wool is waterproof, but only if you treat it with lanolin? Or something? I don’t really understand the wool diaper covers, but they are an option for those of you interested in natural fibers. The BG diapers have PUL on the outside, which is a synthetic waterproof material.

For reviews of diapers all the other diaper brands out there that I haven’t tried, check out diaperpin.com. It is a fantastic resource.

Places I have bought cloth diapering stuff (in no way a complete list of places out there):
Cotton Babies
Zannadu
Jillian’s Drawers
Wildflower Diapers
Ebay***

Coming tomorrow: Part III in which I explain how to wash the diapers. (Short version: Rinse poop into toilet. Put in washing machine. Wash.)

*In proofing this post, it occurs to me that maybe “flavor” is not the best word choice when describing diapers.

**The brand names are a benefit of cloth diapering that I have so far neglected to mention.

***Gently used bumGenius and FuzziBunz diapers sell for almost full price on Ebay, so be careful if you’re buying. If you’re selling, more power to you!

Manifesto Part I: Why cloth?
Manifesto Part III: Washing the diapers
Manifesto Part IV: Accessorize!

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day

Dear Jack,

Every single morning for your entire life, you have started the day by getting your pants changed and THEN having some milk. Every morning! You always get the milk. Have we ever denied you the milk?

So why, then, do you insist upon moaning and wailing and gnashing your teeth as though waiting two extra minutes for the milk is causing you to waste away before our very eyes?

Love,
Mama (the one with the milk)

PS While I have your attention, if you don't want the banana disks I offer you, there is no need to snatch them up and throw them on the floor. Just don't take the banana disks! You're killing me!

Some things

So I signed up for NaBloPoMo at the last possible minute, and now I have to post every day. Every day! Even though I am tired! And a wee bit tipsy! Because The Husband and I went out for a fancy dinner for our 4 year anniversary! And I just spelled that "anniversrary" which means I am actually slurring my typed words. So here I am, posting. But if you think I am going to post something coherent, you have another think coming. (I said "another think" on purpose, because it is funny to me.)

***

When I'm driving and let someone cross the street in front of my car, and out of courtesy the person runs so as to minimize the amount of time I have to wait, it amuses me to think to myself, "Yeah, you BETTER run."

***

Emily asked for some help finding shoes that "might be cute for upcoming holiday parties and a date night or two," and I recommended these, and she wants to get them in gray! Instead of red! So you should all leave her comments telling her that she is crazy, because I am way too emotionally invested in her shoe purchase, and I need her to get the red ones.

***

Speaking of shoes, I have been commissioned to find Maggie a pair of black heels, because Maggie has no black heels! I know! And although the implication there is that Maggie asked me to help her find shoes, the truth is that she admitted to having no black heels and I very pushily started taking over because I like telling people what to do. And also because it would appear that I have a bizarre interest in other people's footwear.

***

Arwen linked to me yesterday, but this time she was complaining about a post of mine in which I expressed my concerns that I was creating a monster baby, addicted to being rocked to sleep. She said that when she read that post, she sort of wanted to smack me. But I am not offended, because, as I reread that post, I also sort of wanted to smack me. When I think of the energy I wasted worrying about things that were not problems, energy I could have spent on researching shoe purchases for other people, I could weep.

***

And that is all for tonight, my friends. Tomorrow I have to go to a baby shower in Maine, but I will try to put together something a bit better than this for my post. One can always hope.

It's one of those posts again

Jack is teething again, and it’s having an effect on his digestion. Yesterday, I asked The Husband if Jack’s morning diaper was poopy or not, because the best days are the days that Jack poops once, and The Husband cleans it up. The Husband may not agree with me here, but he’s wrong.

“Yes, of course it was,” said The Husband.

“Was it all gross?” I asked, because for the past several days it’s been… not normal.

“Yes, it was gross and sticky like it has been lately,” he said. Then he added, “But I don’t want to have a conversation about the consistency of Jack’s poop.”

“I hate to break it to you, but we just did.”

***

On a completely unrelated note, The Husband is currently playing pinball on the computer, and I feel the need to tell you all that I once scored over nine million on computer pinball. Nine million! And when you get a score that high, the gravity goes wonky. It’s very cool.

Of clocks and snakes and zombies

Today Jack and I went to The Christmas Tree Shop to buy some Thanksgiving decorations, and there was a display of about twenty or thirty clocks on the wall. Knowing his love for clocks, I turned the cart around so he could see them and said, “Look, Jack! Clocks!”

He looked at the clocks, and then turned back to me with an expression that clearly said, “And your point is?” I shrugged and we headed off to the registers which were located in front of the store’s own clock, a sad solitary, lonely one on the wall. And what do you think I heard but an excited “Cok!” complete with vigorous pointing.

Jack has also been saying “cok” every time the clock in the dining room chimes for many days now, but it was not until dinner tonight that I realized he is also humming the chime song. I will pause now while the adorableness of that sinks in.

In other news, yesterday I taught him what Eskimo kisses are and he gave them to me all day whenever I asked. Tragically, he won’t any more. I think I wore it out. He also now knows what snakes and gorillas say, so I can add those to the list.

I’m really enjoying Jack’s newfound communication skills. He quite clearly understands the bulk of what we say to him; we have had to spell “cookie” for weeks now. When I call his name after he’s been quiet for awhile, he toddles over and looks at me as if to say, “Yeah?” The other night, The Husband told him to go get his blanket and come over to him, and he did! And at dinner we had an entire conversation about the clock and how it chimes. Granted, the conversation was basically, “Clock! Doo doo doo dooo! Clock!” but still. It was a conversation. He’s like an actual person now!

Next up: What a zombie says. (Braainnnssss!)

Polly want a go-kuh?

Yesterday, Jack asked me for a cracker. It was actually pretty cool. Although “cracker” has been a part of his vocabulary for a few weeks now, but usually he just says it when he’s pointing out the cracker. But this time we were in the living room and there were no crackers in sight. So we went into the kitchen and I got him a cracker. It was lucky for him, though, that he asked me for the cracker, because Jack has a fairly unique pronunciation of the word. It’s sort of “go-kuh,” and I am the only person in the world who understands what he’s saying.

Jack’s vocabulary is growing by leaps and bounds these days. Today I discovered that our hard work on what a gorilla says has paid off when he waved his arms around in the general vicinity of his chest and said, “Aaaa!” He also has his own word for water; it’s “Ahhhhhh!” because that’s what you say after you’ve had a refreshing sip of water. He still says “clock,” and we still talk about clocks quite a lot. We point out all the clocks in the house. We comment on the clock when it chimes. We find clocks in other houses and at the doctor’s office and wherever we go. And today, when The Husband took the clock off the wall to change the time, he completely blew Jack’s mind. The clock! The clock! Clockclockclockclockclock!

I just reread the last paragraph to see if I liked the way it turned out, and I would like to take a moment to comment on a strange phenomenon. What is it about babies that makes people say things like, “Are we tired?” or “We have to go to the pediatrician today to get our shots,” or “We finally learned what a gorilla says!” Seriously, what has happened to me? When did I develop the speech patterns of a pushy nurse from a bad sitcom?

Jack says lots of other words too, and because it’s getting late and I only have a few minutes left of working brain cells due to the fact that we seem to be getting a new tooth and we are therefore feeling cranky and clingy and tiring out our mama, I am going to wind this entry up with a list of words Jack currently says. You don’t have to read this part.

clock (cok)
No (noooo)
water (ahhhh!)
duck (da)
What is that, please? (da?)
May I have some of that? (da!) (“da” is tonal)
Balloon (boon) (technically, he’s only said this on one day)

Animal sounds Jack makes
Moo (mmmm)
Meow (owww)
Tweet (weeweeweewee!)
Woof (woo)
Quack (dadada! With hand gestures from “5 Little Ducks” song)
Bunny face
Elephant trumpeting
Gorilla chest thumping

Dosage

So. Jack turned one last Wednesday. I made a little movie about it, in case you haven’t seen it yet.

What I’m trying, but failing to do here, is segue smoothly into mentioning that my video was Dosed by Amalah. For those of you unaware of who Amalah is, trust me when I tell you that this was big deal. Very big. I checked my stats about every 30 seconds after she dosed me, and by the day’s end, I had easily tentupled my average daily pageloads. Tentupled! And that’s not even a real word! I’m still kind of reeling from the excitement of it all.

But what’s that you say? I haven’t told you anything about Jack’s birthday party? Let me remedy that immediately.

It was a low-key party. Just my and The Husband’s immediate families and their children came, so there were only about 30 people. You know, just a small gathering. The theme of the party was “Hey! Let’s all have some cake!” Plus hats.

Jack got to experience a few new things as well, and based on his newfound love of potato chips, pizza, cake and ice cream, I think we can all rest assured that he is truly my son.

Why have you kept pizza from me for so long?

I made two cakes because 30 people eat more than one cake, especially when those 30 people are from my family. We are a dessert people. When my mother-in-law saw the layer cake, she asked, quite innocently, “What kind of frosting is that with the brown speckles in it?” Sadly, that frosting was plain vanilla with pieces of ripped up chocolate cake spread throughout. Tell me, internet, what is the secret to frosting a cake so that it does not get all torn up? I always thought this problem was due to my not letting the cake cool properly, but I baked the cakes on Friday night and didn’t frost them till Saturday morning, so I’m at a loss.

Nevertheless, the layer cake appeared to be a success.

What is this you are bringing to me?

I find it to be acceptable.

Yes! Let's all have some cake!

The party was not actually Jack’s first taste of ice cream, but it was the first time he got to do this with it:

Ice cream is a very complex fluid you know. I believe it is non-Newtonian.

Everyone was very generous, and Jack received some lovely presents. Big Sister #2, for example, bought him two books, one of which was the same book she bought him for his baptism*. It is a really good book, though. His paternal grandparents, in typical fashion, bought him about fifty gazillion things. He hasn’t had a chance to play with all of them yet, but he certainly enjoys being pulled around in the sled. He equally enjoys the two corn popper push toys he got. He doesn’t push them, though, he just likes to stand them up so they balance. He also got a toy drill that talks, and he wants to like it, but he really prefers that someone else hold it while it’s making all that noise.

But mostly, he likes to carry around his socks from one room to another. Or a wooden spoon.

Wooden spoons rock.

*This incident reminded Big Sister #1 of the year she bought Big Sister #3 the People MagazinePeople, board game. It was a perfect gift in theory, because Big Sister #3's idea of nirvana is a Diet Coke, a People, and E! on in the background. Unfortunately, we discovered that the game was really awful when we tried to play it, and we never tried again. That’s probably why Big Sister #1 forgot about it and bought it for her again the next year.

One year

A lot can happen in a year. Heck, a lot can happen in six months, as evidenced by my experiences from July to December, 2003, when I had my appendix out, got evicted, moved twice, wrote my thesis, got married, moved again, and defended my thesis to earn my Ph.D.

But the events of 2003 do not hold a candle to what has happened to our family since October 24, 2006, because that was the day Jack joined me and The Husband here on the outside. It's almost impossible to understand that the toddler currently doing laps around the dining room table is the same being that lay his little head down on my chest that October night. He wasn't crying, he was just gazing up at me with his huge blue eyes as if to say, "Hi. Who are you? I'm hungry." And life hasn't been the same since.

So happy birthday, Jack. You're going to love cake.


Jack: Year One from Maureen on Vimeo.

Music: "Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World" by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole
Idea for video: Stolen from Amalah

Toddling

Today I will be taking Jack to the fancy schmancy photography studio to get his one-year portrait done. This session is the last in the "baby panel" series, after which I will not be returning to the fancy schmancy photography studio. It is nothing against the pictures; the pictures are gorgeous. It is more the cost of said pictures. You see, the "baby panel" is a promotion run by this studio that includes sittings at 3, 6, 9 and 12 months and one 5x7 from each session, all for $79. Now, this is quite a deal, I have to say, even though I didn't find out about this studio until after I had already missed the 3-month session. So it is not the $79 that is the problem. It is more the cost of prints above and beyond the 5x7s that are included with the promotion.

At the 6-month portrait sitting which took place at 7-months for reasons I will discuss momentarily, I received a booklet of their package prices and I almost dropped dead from the shock. That was when I discovered that by choosing one of their packages, I could save $1700 over the cost of buying that many prints individually. I could SAVE $1700. Saving money is all well and good, but trust me, buying the prints a la carte would not come to a total of $1800.

I also found out that in order to choose the prints, The Husband and I would have to come back to a formal "viewing" where we would be shown a slide show of each picture from the session and anything we didn't choose that day would be deleted. The pressure! We tried to harden our hearts before the viewing and decided to choose only one pose for the cheapest option, 24 wallets, but naturally, we caved and bought two poses divided among one 8x10, one 5x7 and 8 wallets, because adding the 5x7 to the wallets was only $50 more and adding a second pose and the 8x10 was only $50 more on top of that, and that's practically the same price, really, when you think about it, I mean, the 8x10 is practically free, and how could we possibly be expected to choose just one pose of our adorable child?

But why was the 6-month session a month late, you ask? Well the studio has a lot of rules. The "baby panel" is designed to be a series of photos of the baby lying down (3 months), sitting up (6 months), standing holding on (9 months) and standing unassisted (12 months). Jack, naturally, was not able to sit up unassisted at 6 months. About a week before his appointment, I called the studio to tell them he could not yet sit up, as they had requested me to do. "Oh, no," said the guy who makes the appointments. "Well, when will he be able to?" Since Jack had not informed me of his schedule, I had to tell him that I really didn't know. "Well, let's just schedule for next month and hope," said the man at the studio, and we did. Fortunately, Jack got his act together in time and, although he was a little tippy the day of the session, we were spared having to wait until he was almost 9-months to take the 6-month shots.

After the 9-month portrait, the photographer asked me to call as soon as he could stand up unassisted, since she did not like to take portraits of toddlers if she could avoid it. I assumed that this would not be a problem, because Jack was up on all fours rocking back and forth for at least 5 weeks before he actually managed to crawl. I figured we'd have plenty of time.

I called the studio on a Friday and left a message that Jack could stand unassisted, and we should schedule the 12-month session. They did not return my call for 3 days by which point Jack was already teetering around the house pretty skillfully. "Yeah, he's walking," I said. "Sorry. He's pretty wobbly now, but this is happening really really fast, so I imagine he'll be running by next week." The studio panicked and gave me the next available appointment, which was for last Wednesday. But once again, Jack refused to cooperate and instead came down with a cold, so we had to reschedule. That turned out to be a very good thing, however, because the morning of the original appointment, Jack fell on his face and scratched the heck out of his nose. Not something I was anxious to memorialize for eternity.

So the photographer is going to have a little adventure trying to catch Jack standing still for long enough to snap some pictures. We'll schedule the viewing, spend a bit more money than we really want to, and go to Sears or someplace for his next portrait. Because I just don't have $1700 to save.

In the meantime

I'm working on a real post, honest. It's just been difficult to keep up with the blog lately, because, and this may come as a huge shock, raising a baby is hard work! I know! No one told me either. And lately I've had to do actual work stuff at night, and I'm trying to make a year-in-review video of Jack a la Amalah, so my computer time has been accounted for. Also we've been having internet issues. (The Husband tried to explain what he did to fix it, and there was something about the router and the modem and a direct connection which bypasses the electronic whoozywhatsis and blah blah blah, and my eyes glazed over and I said, "Um, I don't actually understand any of the things you are saying. Does the internet work? Yes? Does the wireless connection? No? OK.") Also I am TIRED. Also, Jack skipped his morning nap today. SKIPPED. And then he tried to only sleep for 40 minutes in the afternoon, but I was having NONE OF THAT and rocked his little self back to sleep. One nap a day? I AM NOT READY FOR ONE NAP A DAY.

That being said, I am very sad that I have wasted the linkage from Arwen whom I was lucky enough to meet last week. Because she is not a slacker like me, she actually wrote about this meeting and linked to me twice! Arwen is an internet rockstar, so this shot the number of pageloads for those to days from my average of 30 to a record high 8 billion.* And what did all of these new readers find? The most boring page in existence. And now they'll never come back.

But now I am posting this, so if they do come back, they will find this bizarre stream-of-consciousness post about nothing in particular. Right. This is much better.

Edited to add
Also also, today I got a huge glob of Desitin on my shirt, and I ONLY HAVE THREE SHIRTS. Does Desitin come out? It probably never comes out. (This is true if the word "shirt" implies a shirt that is not a sad sack of faded, shapeless cotton. If you count the sad sacks of faded, shapeless cotton, I have at least six shirts.)

*I was going to quote the actual numbers here, but Statcounter won't load up. Did Statcounter go out of business or something? Why won't Statcounter load up? How am I supposed to keep track of the 7 people who read my blog?

And he wears them for a long time

If putting your baby's red sweatpants on his head like a hat for your own amusement is wrong, then I don't want to be right.

Breaking news

I thought you should know, dear Internet, that today I took Jack to the shoe store to buy him his first pair of shoes. He needs them because he spends much more time walking than crawling these days.

Let that sink in.

Also let sink in the fact that his shoes cost me forty-six dollars, and they are only going to fit him for five minutes. It's a crying shame that the hand-me-down sneakers from Elfin Nephew make Jack fall down.

In an unrelated note, today is apparently delurking day. I am late, very late, to the party with this, but if you're lurking, come out and leave a comment!

But... she doesn't even know the words to "Too Ra Loo Ra Loo Ra!"

Two weeks ago, The Husband and I went on a date. As in, just he and I. Out. Together. Alone. With cocktails. It was pretty nice, yeah. It was, in fact, the first time we had been on a date since I gave birth. Actually, I should say it was the first time we had been on a date since The Bathroom Remodel, because Lord knows there was no time for romance when there were walls to put up and cabinets to rehang.

This date was the first of our attempts to follow the "One Date A Month" rule we established for ourselves in, oh, April. But the months, they fly by! And the babysitters, they get busy! You have to book early with these babysitters. They have social lives too, you know. But we finally managed it two weeks ago. We called the babysitter a whole week in advance. We located the restaurant gift card we received as a baby gift from my choir. We checked to see what movies were playing. Because we were going to do this date thing right. Dinner AND a movie. We were going to live the life, baby.

The babysitter, a delightful high school sophomore, arrived promptly at 6:30. The Husband and I were dressed, Jack was fed and pajama-ed. So The Husband ran through the emergency numbers and then hilariously tried to make small talk with the 15-year-old girl in our kitchen while I nursed Jack. ("Why, yes, that is a large mixer. They sure are heavier than they look, those mixers.") After Jack was done, I went over the bedtime routine, kissed Jack goodnight, handed him over and... we left.

Now, both The Husband and I are relaxed parents. This was not even the first time we had left Jack with this babysitter; we had had her over twice before to make sure Jack knew her. But this did not stop us from feeling, albeit ever so slightly, as though we were abandoning our baby in his time of need. It's bedtime! No one but us had ever put him to bed before! What if she forgets to read Barnyard Dance last? And, oh heavens, I forgot to tell her that I always say, "Now we get comfy cozy and we sing our good-night song," after we turn out the light! Oh nooooooooo! But we stifled these feelings and focused on the promise of a dinner with cocktails, a dinner blessedly free of the command, "No shrieking."

We thoroughly enjoyed our dinner, heroically resisting all temptations to call and check in on the babysitter. Afterwards, we headed over to the movie theater and bought tickets for The Bourne Ultimatum. The reviews for Bourne were full of phrases like "pounding, pulsating thriller" and "constant adrenaline surge," so I was looking forward to an exciting movie. And according to The Husband, it was very exciting. His adrenaline: It surged. You will have to take his word for it though, because I fell asleep. It seems that 10:00 pm is 10:00 pm, no matter where I am, and that, my friends, is what time I fall asleep.

At any rate, we came back home to a nice, peaceful house. There had been no problems at bedtime whatsoever. Naturally, I was thrilled by this. Someone else successfully put Jack to bed with no issues! I am free! Free to leave the house before 7:00 pm if I so desire. Free to fall asleep on my friend's couch at 10:00 pm if I want to. But even as I reveled in my freedom, I could feel a twinge of... what was that? Offense? Hurt feelings?

You mean he didn't miss me at all?

It's a look

Why is it that the day my friend is coming to videotape Jack for a class is the same day Jack decides to find out what it feels like to carefully place sliced (and sticky) banana discs on his head? Banana discs: The mousse for the baby set. And while we're on the subject of breakfast, why does food that is rejected when sitting in the high chair suddenly become delicious when picked off the floor? It's like a race after every meal to see who can pick up the food first. I don't always win.

Look out for that milestone!

Well.

Babies sure change fast, huh? I mean, I know it's a cliche to say that it seems like just last week Jack was crawling and babbling and this week he's walking and talking, using a spoon and holding his own cup, but, in my defense, JUST LAST WEEK he was only crawling and babbling and had no idea that the spoon functioned as a tool of any kind and thought that the best way to get water was to lower his head to the cup and bite like hell on the spout.

I guess that the walking technically started in the middle of last week, and the cup thing was on Saturday, but today was like a milestone EXPLOSION. He started the day when he saw Peter Rabbit on his breakfast plate and told me what a bunny says. (It scrunches up its nose and makes a little huffing noise, in case you were not aware. You have not seen adorable until you've seen a baby do this.) Later, I caught him trying to play with the air conditioner's power cord, and we had a little conversation about that, with me saying, "No, no. Don't touch," and him shaking his finger at it and then confirming with me that he had it right. He followed up by identifying his toes and my toes and his ear and fingers (but not my ear or fingers), and then we spent some time looking out the window, watching the "caaaaaaaaahhhhhhhs" drive by. The mystery of how to get the ball popper to pop was unraveled after lunch. He still knows what an elephant says, and at suppertime, just when I had finished regaling The Husband with all of Jack's accomplishments, he blew my mind by using his spoon to eat applesauce instead of using it to wave at air molecules like he usually does. (I mean that Jack used the spoon, not The Husband. The Husband has been able to use his spoon to eat applesauce for months now.) I think meals are going to be a bit messier for awhile.

Sometime during the past week, he started pointing out all of the clocks in the house. He has always loved himself a good clock - the difference now is that he consistently identifies them as "cok" because he's been practicing the "k" sound for days now. At the In-Laws', Jack knows where the bird with the wings that spin is in the garden, and he knows where the birds are that hang from the chandelier and the china closet door in the dining room. He tweets when he wants to play with them. He also knows which round things with hands and words are clocks and which one is the barometer. Why tell a baby what a barometer is, you say? Well, he asked me. What, I'm supposed to lie and say it's a clock?

Jack's current favorite game is "Where's The Duck?" in which I hide his rubber duckie in some clever spot such as the middle of his bedroom floor and he finds it. Sometimes I can hide it under a blanket, but only if he watches me put it there, and only if I put it close to the blanket's edge. "Where's The Duck?" is so popular, in fact, that it could be used to distract Jack from the fact that his mother whacked his face and head on the door, if such a thing were ever to happen which of course it never would. Ahem. But Jack also enjoys a good round of "Crawling Around On The Floor While Holding Random Household Items Such As A Post-It Or A Tupperware Lid Or A Scrap Of Ripped Up Tissue If I Can Get It." I think he likes the way the different things slide along as he goes.

It's really been an incredible week. Some of the things that he's learned we've been practicing, like what a bunny says, but some of them he seems to have picked up osmotically, like the fingers, or the spoon. I think he asked once me last week what fingers were, but, honestly, I'd been focusing on toes and noses.

Jack is at a stage now where he plays happily by himself when he's awake and when he's tired, he snuggles up to his blanket and says, "Mmmmmmmm!" He gives hugs freely and giggles with abandon. OK, sure, sometimes he shrieks just to hear how it sounds (bad), and he hasn't entirely given up on biting. But I am so in love with him that I want to freeze him here forever, except then I wouldn't find out what he'll be like tomorrow.

Happy eleven month birthday, one day late, Jack. You're pretty awesome.