I have been keeping a running log of books that I would like Jake to read between now and the summer before entering high school. The paper was becoming kind of dogeared and sloppy, so I thought I'd get them all down here, where they will be permanently logged for all time.
As a grandchild of a librarian, I know that lists such as this are a very important thing to have around, you have to keep track of what you are reading and have read, and because if you aren't reading at a level that is well above your grade and if you cannot have an intelligent discussion with your teacher about a book that you really have no business reading or understanding when she makes you stay after to clap erasers because you seemed like you weren't paying attention during her boring babyish English class you will never be able to make it in the world.
After Jake gets through these, I can introduce him to the really good stuff, with sex and drugs and rock and roll and murder and deceit and bloodshed and violence.
Reading is awesome.
We're starting out with all the fun books by Dr Seuss and the Little Golden Books that look so pretty on the shelf, but we'll move on in due time. I tried to put these in some sort of sequential order, but it was becoming too difficult, so here you go:
Petunia by Roger Duvorsin
Stone Soup by Marcia Brown
Make Way for Ducklings and
Blueberries for Sal by Robert McCloskey
Cordouroy by Don Freeman
There Was an Old Lady who Swallowed a Fly by Simms Taback
Miss Nelson Is Missing! by Harry Allard
The Berenstain Bears by Stan and Jan Berenstain
Clifford the Big Red Dog by Norman Bridwell
Goodnight, Moon by Margaret W. Brown
The Little Engine that Could by Watty Piper
The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter
Curious George by H.A. Rey
Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak
The One in the Middle is the Green Kangaroo and
The Pain and the Great One and
Freckle Juice and
Then Again, Maybe I Won't and
Deenie and
Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing and
Superfudge and
Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great by Judy Blume
Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel and
Katy and the Big Storm by Virginia Lee Burton
Ira Sleeps Over by Bernard Waber
Frog and Toad are Friends by Arnold Lobel
Amelia Bedelia by Peggy Parish
Tikki Tikki Tembo by Arlene Mosel
The Ramona Books and
The Mouse and the Motorcycle by Beverly Cleary
Anastasia Krupnik by Lois Lowry
Nate the Great by Marjorie Sharmat
Mrs Piggle Wiggle by Betty MacDonald
Encyclopedia Brown, Boy Detective by Donald J Sobol
A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle
A Cricket in Times Square by George Selden
Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst
Boxcar Children by Gertrude Warner
Charlotte's Web by E.B. White
The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery William
The Wizard of Oz by Frank Baum
The Pinballs by Betsy Byars
Nothing's Fair in the Fifth Grade by Barthe DeClements
Old Yeller by Fred Gipson
Bunnicula by Deborah and James Howe
The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and
James and the Giant Peach and
The BFG and
Matilda and
The Witches and
The Twits by Roald Dahl
The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton
The Great Gatsby by F Scott Fitzgerald
Island of the Blue Dolphins and
The Black Pearl and
Stream to the River, River to the Sea by Scott O'Dell
Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
The Harry Potter Series by J.K. Rowling
Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Patterson
Lord of the Flies by William Golding
The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck
The Voyages of Dr. Dolittle by Hugh Lofting
The Diary of Anne Frank
Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbit
Sarah Plain and Tall by Patricia MacLachlan
The Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger
Call of the Wild and
White Fang by Jack London
How to Eat Fried Worms by Thomas Rockwell
The list would be much longer and way more comprehensive had Jake been born a girl. But, I'll go easy on him since boys aren't always keen on reading.
What were your favorites when you were younger? Can you think of anything monumental that I missed?
12.28.2006
everything you wanted to know but were afraid to ask
I was quite surprised by how many of you played, and even more surprised at how many of you did very well. Especially the readers I had never heard from. There is nothing more ego-stroking to a fervent blogger than a a bunch of people paying attention. There was a tie between my brother Brian and my friend Brian who both missed five, and I am a bit disappointed in the ladies, who are a bit more inclined to be good at this stuff. Good job Brians, your prizes will be forthcoming. I know what my brother will be getting, and I have to think about Brian G. There will be no tie breaker since it is really cruel to rule out your own brother from your very first and only baby quizzy contest thingy.
And without further ado, here are the answers.
1. Lora grew up in Dreary Erie, the mistake on the Lake and moved to West Chester in 1994.
2. And Dave is straight outta South Philly, cuz.
3. We met at West Chester University in 1994, where we were next door neighbors in the co-ed wing of Tyson Hall. Mothers and fathers of the world, do NOT allow your 18 year old children to live in the co-ed wing of any Hall.
4. Dave got his JD from Temple Law, and I got my MA (MS, maybe? Who knows. My Master's) in Criminal Justice and Urban Studies from Temple.
5. Temple Law has a semester abroad program, and we spent the summer of 2000 in Rome. We shared an apartment with five other students. It went pretty well, but we all agree that we could never be on the Real World. It was bad enough without cameras. Anway, it was way cooler than living in the dorms on the crappy side of the river like the other chumps.
6. We got married in 1999, the summer after college graduation and before grad school. It was then or never since we figured we would be over a quarter million dollars in debt when it was all said and done. We were right, sadly. The house is what put us over the top.
7. We spent a week (maybe five days, I forget. I'm the worst) in Playa del Carmen Mexico at the Iberostar. There were monkeys there. It was awesome. I almost died topless at the tentacles of the Man O'War. Travelers take heed, yelling 'help' and flailing your arms does not mean "save me" in Mexican.
8. It's Jacob Alexander, and Dave hates Jake's middle name. But I don't. I think it is beautiful. Just like Jake. And Jake's mother.
9. Jake was born at 2.49am on Friday, March 17th. Rub his head for good luck.
10. He weighed 5 pounds and 12 ounces when he was born.
11. And was 20 inches long. I was a long skinny baby too. Dave was short and skinny.
12. I gained 22 pounds when I was pregnant. But thank you to all who guessed that I only gained about 15 pounds. I don't know whether to thank you because I looked so tiny that I couldn't have possibly gained more or cry that I was a little chunky before getting pregnant and it only took about 15 pounds to look enormous. I wore a 38J at my peak, and that should count for something, right? The girls were big and bad and I loved them.
13. I loved peanut butter when I was pregnant, but I always have so it doesn't mean much. I had to stop eating it toward the end because of the heart burn.
14. I went into the hospital after work on Wednesday the 15th and didn't have the baby until first thing on Friday. I didn't even have my bags packed.
15. I'm scared of painkillers and terrified of needles in my back, so I just took a bunch of Benedryl during labor to take the edge off and let me get some sleep. It worked like a charm. I live my life fueled by allergy medicines. No matter how you feel there is a sinus tablet out there for you. Tired? Sudafed. Wide awake in the middle of the night? Benedryl. Cranky? Allegra D. Jittery from too much coffee? Try a Clarinex. If you aren't sure which one you need, just ask me. I have a working knowledge of this kind of stuff.
16. Jake was born at Pennsylvania Hospital in beautiful downtown Philadelphia.
17. Jake has a girly cousin, Michaela who is five months older than him.
18. And belongs to Jake's Aunt Theresa in Phoenix.
19. No one calls Jake Munchkin. No one.
20. Jake loves all food equally.
21. Jake would have likely been Cecilia if he was a girl. Or Sophia.
22. I totally miss the pelvic exams by the hot doctor! Shame on you who answered differently!
23. Dave is an attorney by day.
24. And I am a Program Monitor, making sure that parenting programs are using an appropriate curriculum and are running according to City funding. And responsibilities include blogging and checking you and all your little hottie friends out on MySpace on company time.
And without further ado, here are the answers.
1. Lora grew up in Dreary Erie, the mistake on the Lake and moved to West Chester in 1994.
2. And Dave is straight outta South Philly, cuz.
3. We met at West Chester University in 1994, where we were next door neighbors in the co-ed wing of Tyson Hall. Mothers and fathers of the world, do NOT allow your 18 year old children to live in the co-ed wing of any Hall.
4. Dave got his JD from Temple Law, and I got my MA (MS, maybe? Who knows. My Master's) in Criminal Justice and Urban Studies from Temple.
5. Temple Law has a semester abroad program, and we spent the summer of 2000 in Rome. We shared an apartment with five other students. It went pretty well, but we all agree that we could never be on the Real World. It was bad enough without cameras. Anway, it was way cooler than living in the dorms on the crappy side of the river like the other chumps.
6. We got married in 1999, the summer after college graduation and before grad school. It was then or never since we figured we would be over a quarter million dollars in debt when it was all said and done. We were right, sadly. The house is what put us over the top.
7. We spent a week (maybe five days, I forget. I'm the worst) in Playa del Carmen Mexico at the Iberostar. There were monkeys there. It was awesome. I almost died topless at the tentacles of the Man O'War. Travelers take heed, yelling 'help' and flailing your arms does not mean "save me" in Mexican.
8. It's Jacob Alexander, and Dave hates Jake's middle name. But I don't. I think it is beautiful. Just like Jake. And Jake's mother.
9. Jake was born at 2.49am on Friday, March 17th. Rub his head for good luck.
10. He weighed 5 pounds and 12 ounces when he was born.
11. And was 20 inches long. I was a long skinny baby too. Dave was short and skinny.
12. I gained 22 pounds when I was pregnant. But thank you to all who guessed that I only gained about 15 pounds. I don't know whether to thank you because I looked so tiny that I couldn't have possibly gained more or cry that I was a little chunky before getting pregnant and it only took about 15 pounds to look enormous. I wore a 38J at my peak, and that should count for something, right? The girls were big and bad and I loved them.
13. I loved peanut butter when I was pregnant, but I always have so it doesn't mean much. I had to stop eating it toward the end because of the heart burn.
14. I went into the hospital after work on Wednesday the 15th and didn't have the baby until first thing on Friday. I didn't even have my bags packed.
15. I'm scared of painkillers and terrified of needles in my back, so I just took a bunch of Benedryl during labor to take the edge off and let me get some sleep. It worked like a charm. I live my life fueled by allergy medicines. No matter how you feel there is a sinus tablet out there for you. Tired? Sudafed. Wide awake in the middle of the night? Benedryl. Cranky? Allegra D. Jittery from too much coffee? Try a Clarinex. If you aren't sure which one you need, just ask me. I have a working knowledge of this kind of stuff.
16. Jake was born at Pennsylvania Hospital in beautiful downtown Philadelphia.
17. Jake has a girly cousin, Michaela who is five months older than him.
18. And belongs to Jake's Aunt Theresa in Phoenix.
19. No one calls Jake Munchkin. No one.
20. Jake loves all food equally.
21. Jake would have likely been Cecilia if he was a girl. Or Sophia.
22. I totally miss the pelvic exams by the hot doctor! Shame on you who answered differently!
23. Dave is an attorney by day.
24. And I am a Program Monitor, making sure that parenting programs are using an appropriate curriculum and are running according to City funding. And responsibilities include blogging and checking you and all your little hottie friends out on MySpace on company time.
12.27.2006
back to work
From time to time I like to check back on what I was doing last year at this time. Well, 12.27.05 had me starting my third trimester, and I felt really fat. You be the judge. I already know what you are going to say here. I know I was lucky but I still felt gargantuan, for what it is worth. No matter what you look like on the outside you still have a human child in there.
I guess you are all wondering how magical Jake's Christmas was. Pretty damned magical. He has loads of presents and Dave and I didn't buy a single one of them. I'm now wishing that we had bought stock in LeapFrog, because it must have skyrocketed over the past week.
Dave and I went to a friend's aunt's on the Eve and spent Christmas day with the same friend and his wife at our house, eating $70 worth of Chinese food and watching the Eagles win. Then the girls went to sleep and the boys stayed up late playing board games, fueled by the (non-alcoholic yet euphoria-inducing) Jack Daniel's coffee and the Hickory Farms Summer Sausage gift pack that Santa brought for Dave. Jake had fun pounding on his new boxes, poking at the tree, and getting attention from the houseguests.
Dave also scored a new clarinet from the Big Guy and I was so good this year that I got two (count them, two) little blue boxes under the tree. I really am a wonderful wife and mother, when measured in Christmas swag.
And my gift to you? I'm telling you to start reading AARP magazine. I am a long-time fan of the publication, starting back in high school when I would steal my grandparents' copy and take it up to bed with me when I would sleep over. My gym subscribes to it and keeps it near the low impact aerobics equipment. Everything in there is about living well, feeling well, and doing good things.
There are no anti-aging cream ads or eye makeup tips that will change your life. The only diet secrets are ones that will actually make you healthier, rather than skinnier. Fashion advice comes with the phone number to LL Bean, in case you want to order the catalogue. I said phone number and catalogue. Not email address and website.
The Jan/Feb issue was out today, and I learned that a half an hour of sunshine without sunscreen per day can help with hypertension, rheumatism, anemia, and a bunch of other ailments that are associated with a Vitamin D deficiency. I learned that heavy cream shouldn't be substituted with half and half, milk, or anything else in soups and sauces because those things have too much protein in it and will curdle when heated. I learned that our brains are wired for socialization, and we can actually catch emotion like we can catch a cold. Read this word: Yawn. Are you sleepy? Did you yawn? Sorry. I made that happen.
I didn't learn how to please my man in bed or how to apply lipstick that won't feather, I didn't feel bad about my thighs and wasn't tempted by a very expensive handbag. I didn't see any haircuts that I should get, and I wasn't jealous about a pretty girl's new engagement to some hot guy or their impending wedding in the Hollywood Hills. It's good stuff, and I highly recommend it.
That and self-tanner. It does wonders for the masking of cellulite and spider veins and pasty winter face. I prefer Neutrogena, and a lot of it.
I guess you are all wondering how magical Jake's Christmas was. Pretty damned magical. He has loads of presents and Dave and I didn't buy a single one of them. I'm now wishing that we had bought stock in LeapFrog, because it must have skyrocketed over the past week.
Dave and I went to a friend's aunt's on the Eve and spent Christmas day with the same friend and his wife at our house, eating $70 worth of Chinese food and watching the Eagles win. Then the girls went to sleep and the boys stayed up late playing board games, fueled by the (non-alcoholic yet euphoria-inducing) Jack Daniel's coffee and the Hickory Farms Summer Sausage gift pack that Santa brought for Dave. Jake had fun pounding on his new boxes, poking at the tree, and getting attention from the houseguests.
Dave also scored a new clarinet from the Big Guy and I was so good this year that I got two (count them, two) little blue boxes under the tree. I really am a wonderful wife and mother, when measured in Christmas swag.
And my gift to you? I'm telling you to start reading AARP magazine. I am a long-time fan of the publication, starting back in high school when I would steal my grandparents' copy and take it up to bed with me when I would sleep over. My gym subscribes to it and keeps it near the low impact aerobics equipment. Everything in there is about living well, feeling well, and doing good things.
There are no anti-aging cream ads or eye makeup tips that will change your life. The only diet secrets are ones that will actually make you healthier, rather than skinnier. Fashion advice comes with the phone number to LL Bean, in case you want to order the catalogue. I said phone number and catalogue. Not email address and website.
The Jan/Feb issue was out today, and I learned that a half an hour of sunshine without sunscreen per day can help with hypertension, rheumatism, anemia, and a bunch of other ailments that are associated with a Vitamin D deficiency. I learned that heavy cream shouldn't be substituted with half and half, milk, or anything else in soups and sauces because those things have too much protein in it and will curdle when heated. I learned that our brains are wired for socialization, and we can actually catch emotion like we can catch a cold. Read this word: Yawn. Are you sleepy? Did you yawn? Sorry. I made that happen.
I didn't learn how to please my man in bed or how to apply lipstick that won't feather, I didn't feel bad about my thighs and wasn't tempted by a very expensive handbag. I didn't see any haircuts that I should get, and I wasn't jealous about a pretty girl's new engagement to some hot guy or their impending wedding in the Hollywood Hills. It's good stuff, and I highly recommend it.
That and self-tanner. It does wonders for the masking of cellulite and spider veins and pasty winter face. I prefer Neutrogena, and a lot of it.
12.22.2006
ink, pink, you stink
It is the last day of work before Christmas, and I have a ton of work to do because I spent all week going to a million office holiday parties and four hour coffee breaks. I feel like crap, I have eaten so many cookies that my pants hardly fit, and I'm angry that there are no good leftovers from our "Winter Breeze" party at my office yesterday afternoon. God forbid we say Christmas or even holiday, lest we offend. I argue that if we are going to have a Winter Breeze party, there damned better be Autumn, Spring, and Summer Breeze parties too. But that doesn't fly with the brass. And of course, someone said grace before we could put anything in our mouths yesterday. Office politics ellude me.
South Philly is gearing up for Christmas Eve. Strings of baccala are hanging from nails outside the corner stores, and piles of calamari and scungilli sit out on the sidewalk in cardboard boxes of ice next to the rabe. The neighborhood smells like a hooker's chassis and for some reason that makes people hungry. It makes me puke. While most Americans sit around their Christmas trees on the Eve smelling sweet potatoes and pies, ham and stuffing, and whatever else it is that mom has in the oven, South Philly houses smell like the wharf. And you are expected to go inside and shove some of that stink right down your throat. A WASPy girl like me can't even fathom eating one of those wretched dry, bland Italian cookies that can hardly pass as dog treats amidst the stench, but my nearest and dearest are clamoring for the clams and snapping up the snapper as if we weren't given the sense of smell to keep us from eating food that smells like it expired before the millennium.
For all you people who say that Italian food is your favorite, I can only assume that you mean the Ameri-friendly Olive Garden variety staples. Spaghetti, lasagna, ravioli, and the like that you are hard pressed to actually find in Italy. Real Italian food is horrible. Anything that smells like a dumpster and needs fancy names to divert you from what you are really eating should not be on the menu. I guarantee if you pull aside any random Gina on the street and ask her if she likes baccala she'll say yes. Tell her you are going to feed her a piece of dry, salted cod and she'll squeal and say "Eww! I skeeve!". Then she'll put on more lip liner, spray some more Aqua Net, and go on her way, faltering on her too-high heels.
The good thing is that the eating season is over for me. The bad thing is I misplaced my clothespin, but I should be okay since I have a raging head cold and am having a difficult time breathing anyway. The other good thing is that I am gathering lots of silly holiday fodder for the Urbanity blog. The other bad thing is that I have got to get some real work done so I can't promise new and exciting posts each day, but keep checking.
South Philly is gearing up for Christmas Eve. Strings of baccala are hanging from nails outside the corner stores, and piles of calamari and scungilli sit out on the sidewalk in cardboard boxes of ice next to the rabe. The neighborhood smells like a hooker's chassis and for some reason that makes people hungry. It makes me puke. While most Americans sit around their Christmas trees on the Eve smelling sweet potatoes and pies, ham and stuffing, and whatever else it is that mom has in the oven, South Philly houses smell like the wharf. And you are expected to go inside and shove some of that stink right down your throat. A WASPy girl like me can't even fathom eating one of those wretched dry, bland Italian cookies that can hardly pass as dog treats amidst the stench, but my nearest and dearest are clamoring for the clams and snapping up the snapper as if we weren't given the sense of smell to keep us from eating food that smells like it expired before the millennium.
For all you people who say that Italian food is your favorite, I can only assume that you mean the Ameri-friendly Olive Garden variety staples. Spaghetti, lasagna, ravioli, and the like that you are hard pressed to actually find in Italy. Real Italian food is horrible. Anything that smells like a dumpster and needs fancy names to divert you from what you are really eating should not be on the menu. I guarantee if you pull aside any random Gina on the street and ask her if she likes baccala she'll say yes. Tell her you are going to feed her a piece of dry, salted cod and she'll squeal and say "Eww! I skeeve!". Then she'll put on more lip liner, spray some more Aqua Net, and go on her way, faltering on her too-high heels.
The good thing is that the eating season is over for me. The bad thing is I misplaced my clothespin, but I should be okay since I have a raging head cold and am having a difficult time breathing anyway. The other good thing is that I am gathering lots of silly holiday fodder for the Urbanity blog. The other bad thing is that I have got to get some real work done so I can't promise new and exciting posts each day, but keep checking.
12.19.2006
niner
Jake had his nine month doctor's appointment yesterday, and he is doing really well.
He is 29 1/3 inches long, putting him at about the 85th percentile (this keeps going up, he was in the fiftieth when he was born) and 18 pounds and 2 ounces, holding strong around the 15th percentile. Long and skinny is still the order of the day. The doctor's aren't worried about his weight since he has been consistently at the fifteenth and is up from the second or third when he was born. His head is and always has been in the fiftieth.
Jake is eating all kinds of foods. He loves his fruits and veggies, and feeds himself mozzarella string cheese, provolone, and cheddar cheese at least once per day. Avocados and beets are tolerable, hummus and beans are wonderful. He snacks on those Gerber puffs and we try Cheerios every now and then, but they don't dissolve fast enough so he gags sometimes. Pastina and yogurt are always fun, and anything with apples rocks. Jake still eats most of his fruits and vegetables out of jars, but I give him as many fresh foods as I can manage. He still drinks formula and I guess he is getting some watered down apple juice at daycare. Sippy cups are seemingly a lost cause. Next time I have a few extra dollars I'm going to pick up one of the non-spill straw cups, maybe Jake'll do better with those.
Jake is doing all the normal nine month things, cruising and babbling and screaming and growling. He isn't happy unless you are walking him from room to room- carrying just doesn't cut it anymore but crawling will suffice. He only has his two bottom teeth, but you can feel a ton of other ones trying to break through. Lucky for me, Jake doesn't have any of the separation anxiety that sometimes comes with being his age, and hopefully it doesn't become a problem later. I can leave him anywhere with anyone and he is happy. He goes to bed without too much of a fuss around nine, and sleeps until sixish, as long as I pump his belly full before he falls asleep.
Jake still loves the Boohbahs and Teletubbies, and I have been letting him watch Sesame Street and Plaza Sesamo from time to time. I am not ashamed to say that I stick him in the exersaucer with a hand full of puff snacks in front of the television so I can get the dishes done or the bathroom clean. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. Jake likes his playpen and squeals and laughs when Bailey gets in there to play. Tyler comes around at dinner time because she knows she will get the table scraps. Jake prefers Tyler over Bailey, and Tyler prefers peas over anything else.
Never before in the history of Team M has there ever been so many presents under the tree. Jake manages to climb all over them at least twice a day, but has no interest in opening any of the packages. I don't know how I will amuse Jake after the decorations are down, the twinkle lights are an endless source of amusement. I hate them, and turn them off when we have company, as I'm afraid that they may induce seizures if someone is prone.
Life is starting to get easier and better, and instead of having another baby just so Jake has a sister or brother Dave and I think we are going to skip the second one and that elusive third and just get on with our lives. We obviously love Jake but we are not so crazy about the idea of more kids. Neither one of us want more for any other reason than so Jake has someone to pal around with, and that isn't the best reason to create life. We'll get a dog instead. I feel like I have lost a big chunk of myself somewhere in bottles and diapers and late night screaming and the mere thought of doing it all over again while managing a toddler makes me want to puke until I lose a vital organ. I don't want to just be a mom, I need to be me too.
On top of all that, brats are expensive. Between food and clothes and daycare and activities and school and a house to fit all their junk and and and I just don't see ourselves doing it. I would rather not spend the next twenty years managing, muddling through, and making do.
Since making this decision, I feel so much better about every little thing I do with and for Jake. Instead of despising the less than pleasant baby tasks, I can tell myself that I will never have to do it again. All that gear in my basement? It's out, as soon as I find someone who needs it. Maybe in five or six years we will change our minds and either have another one of our own or buy one of someone else's but for now I am feeling so much better about my life, my future, and my mental, physical, and fiscal stability.
That said, I'm getting back to work at a job that will accommodate me, my only child, and my husband who will no doubt love me more now that I am not so angry anymore because I don't feel like I am destined to be a breeder.
Darling, I love you but give me Park Avenue.
He is 29 1/3 inches long, putting him at about the 85th percentile (this keeps going up, he was in the fiftieth when he was born) and 18 pounds and 2 ounces, holding strong around the 15th percentile. Long and skinny is still the order of the day. The doctor's aren't worried about his weight since he has been consistently at the fifteenth and is up from the second or third when he was born. His head is and always has been in the fiftieth.
Jake is eating all kinds of foods. He loves his fruits and veggies, and feeds himself mozzarella string cheese, provolone, and cheddar cheese at least once per day. Avocados and beets are tolerable, hummus and beans are wonderful. He snacks on those Gerber puffs and we try Cheerios every now and then, but they don't dissolve fast enough so he gags sometimes. Pastina and yogurt are always fun, and anything with apples rocks. Jake still eats most of his fruits and vegetables out of jars, but I give him as many fresh foods as I can manage. He still drinks formula and I guess he is getting some watered down apple juice at daycare. Sippy cups are seemingly a lost cause. Next time I have a few extra dollars I'm going to pick up one of the non-spill straw cups, maybe Jake'll do better with those.
Jake is doing all the normal nine month things, cruising and babbling and screaming and growling. He isn't happy unless you are walking him from room to room- carrying just doesn't cut it anymore but crawling will suffice. He only has his two bottom teeth, but you can feel a ton of other ones trying to break through. Lucky for me, Jake doesn't have any of the separation anxiety that sometimes comes with being his age, and hopefully it doesn't become a problem later. I can leave him anywhere with anyone and he is happy. He goes to bed without too much of a fuss around nine, and sleeps until sixish, as long as I pump his belly full before he falls asleep.
Jake still loves the Boohbahs and Teletubbies, and I have been letting him watch Sesame Street and Plaza Sesamo from time to time. I am not ashamed to say that I stick him in the exersaucer with a hand full of puff snacks in front of the television so I can get the dishes done or the bathroom clean. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. Jake likes his playpen and squeals and laughs when Bailey gets in there to play. Tyler comes around at dinner time because she knows she will get the table scraps. Jake prefers Tyler over Bailey, and Tyler prefers peas over anything else.
Never before in the history of Team M has there ever been so many presents under the tree. Jake manages to climb all over them at least twice a day, but has no interest in opening any of the packages. I don't know how I will amuse Jake after the decorations are down, the twinkle lights are an endless source of amusement. I hate them, and turn them off when we have company, as I'm afraid that they may induce seizures if someone is prone.
Life is starting to get easier and better, and instead of having another baby just so Jake has a sister or brother Dave and I think we are going to skip the second one and that elusive third and just get on with our lives. We obviously love Jake but we are not so crazy about the idea of more kids. Neither one of us want more for any other reason than so Jake has someone to pal around with, and that isn't the best reason to create life. We'll get a dog instead. I feel like I have lost a big chunk of myself somewhere in bottles and diapers and late night screaming and the mere thought of doing it all over again while managing a toddler makes me want to puke until I lose a vital organ. I don't want to just be a mom, I need to be me too.
On top of all that, brats are expensive. Between food and clothes and daycare and activities and school and a house to fit all their junk and and and I just don't see ourselves doing it. I would rather not spend the next twenty years managing, muddling through, and making do.
Since making this decision, I feel so much better about every little thing I do with and for Jake. Instead of despising the less than pleasant baby tasks, I can tell myself that I will never have to do it again. All that gear in my basement? It's out, as soon as I find someone who needs it. Maybe in five or six years we will change our minds and either have another one of our own or buy one of someone else's but for now I am feeling so much better about my life, my future, and my mental, physical, and fiscal stability.
That said, I'm getting back to work at a job that will accommodate me, my only child, and my husband who will no doubt love me more now that I am not so angry anymore because I don't feel like I am destined to be a breeder.
Darling, I love you but give me Park Avenue.
12.15.2006
i'm not late on this, we're orthodox
Oh, could you just die?If you want one of your own, let me know. I traced Jake's hand on some cardstock and cut it out so supplies aren't limited. His hand is pretty eensy,
so get it this year while you can still put it in a tiny little frame.Thanks for the idea, Angela!
12.13.2006
new year's resignations
It's that time of year again kiddies!
In 2007 I am resigning myself to the following:
1) I can love my baby, I can love your baby, but I still don't love babies. I don't feel bad when I don't like adult people, so why should the tiny ones be any different?
2) I'm 30 years old, and I still have trouble waking up in the morning. If I haven't mastered it by now, it is probably only going to get worse.
3) I think work's for jerks, but I couldn't handle twelve weeks of maternity leave. I need to get out of the house and knock a few heads together at least three days a week.
4) No matter how much I spend on shampoo, my hair will always be a rat's nest. And it is apparently hereditary.
5) Chocolate tastes better after you weigh yourself and see a bigger number than you were hoping for.
6) I don't need to bore my friends with my drivel anymore now that I have the blogospere. They probably never really cared about this crap all that much anyway.
7) My house will be run by children for at least twenty years. There is baby garbage everywhere, and I know it just gets worse over time. I hate it, but there isn't much I can do about it.
8) I might never be famous.
9) I'm probably not as hilarious as I think I am. But I still crack me up.
10) I'm aging, but so are you, so meh.
11) I'm done trying to give up coffee. If I want to drink two pots a day I will. I will continue my quest to hydrate myself better.
12) I will never be a successful grocery shopper or cook, but no one playing for Team M is starving.
13) My boobs aren't going to magically go back where they used to be. Someday they will be back to their original glory, but it won't be magic. And it won't be cheap.
14) I'm not going to live anywhere warm for a very long time.
15) I'm in a lot of debt. I don't expect to have it paid off until I'm 65.
16) I don't remember most of what I learned in school. I live by the list of things you learn in kindergarten, the other eighteen years were just filler.
17) Even though I carry it with me on trips and keep it by my bed, I'll most likely never get past the first twenty pages of War and Peace. Trust me when I tell you they are just as bad the eighth time you read them as the first.
18) I don't want the picket fence, two car garage, or the sprawling yard, but that doesn't make me any less of a wife or mother. I've never mowed a lawn before, why start now? I do, however, want a parking spot when I move to my "real" house.
19) I'll never be truly happy with what I have, but I'll never know what I really want. I'll keep trying to find it, but I know it isn't really out there. It's a comforting balance, if you are into perpetual flux.
20) I'm never going to think of something witty to end this post with, but twenty is a nice round number.
In 2007 I am resigning myself to the following:
1) I can love my baby, I can love your baby, but I still don't love babies. I don't feel bad when I don't like adult people, so why should the tiny ones be any different?
2) I'm 30 years old, and I still have trouble waking up in the morning. If I haven't mastered it by now, it is probably only going to get worse.
3) I think work's for jerks, but I couldn't handle twelve weeks of maternity leave. I need to get out of the house and knock a few heads together at least three days a week.
4) No matter how much I spend on shampoo, my hair will always be a rat's nest. And it is apparently hereditary.
5) Chocolate tastes better after you weigh yourself and see a bigger number than you were hoping for.
6) I don't need to bore my friends with my drivel anymore now that I have the blogospere. They probably never really cared about this crap all that much anyway.
7) My house will be run by children for at least twenty years. There is baby garbage everywhere, and I know it just gets worse over time. I hate it, but there isn't much I can do about it.
8) I might never be famous.
9) I'm probably not as hilarious as I think I am. But I still crack me up.
10) I'm aging, but so are you, so meh.
11) I'm done trying to give up coffee. If I want to drink two pots a day I will. I will continue my quest to hydrate myself better.
12) I will never be a successful grocery shopper or cook, but no one playing for Team M is starving.
13) My boobs aren't going to magically go back where they used to be. Someday they will be back to their original glory, but it won't be magic. And it won't be cheap.
14) I'm not going to live anywhere warm for a very long time.
15) I'm in a lot of debt. I don't expect to have it paid off until I'm 65.
16) I don't remember most of what I learned in school. I live by the list of things you learn in kindergarten, the other eighteen years were just filler.
17) Even though I carry it with me on trips and keep it by my bed, I'll most likely never get past the first twenty pages of War and Peace. Trust me when I tell you they are just as bad the eighth time you read them as the first.
18) I don't want the picket fence, two car garage, or the sprawling yard, but that doesn't make me any less of a wife or mother. I've never mowed a lawn before, why start now? I do, however, want a parking spot when I move to my "real" house.
19) I'll never be truly happy with what I have, but I'll never know what I really want. I'll keep trying to find it, but I know it isn't really out there. It's a comforting balance, if you are into perpetual flux.
20) I'm never going to think of something witty to end this post with, but twenty is a nice round number.
12.12.2006
the bitch is back
Turns out Miss Bruce was logging community service hours just a few blocks away from home this week. One of Philadelphia's Finest found her cradling a man, his makeshift crackpipe, and his beer stench early this morning on 7th and Wolf.
Here I thought she was lost and gone forever and all she was doing was helping those less fortunate than she. My silly silver social servant. What a fabulous little wench! Like a one woman Salvation Army she is, filled to the brim with selflessness and the holiday spirit.
Aside from the smell and a minor scratch, she is safe and whole and will be completely detailed before we put Jake in there. I think I read somewhere that crack residue is terrible for little lungs.
Back on the block, ready to raise hell.
Here I thought she was lost and gone forever and all she was doing was helping those less fortunate than she. My silly silver social servant. What a fabulous little wench! Like a one woman Salvation Army she is, filled to the brim with selflessness and the holiday spirit.
Aside from the smell and a minor scratch, she is safe and whole and will be completely detailed before we put Jake in there. I think I read somewhere that crack residue is terrible for little lungs.
Back on the block, ready to raise hell.
12.05.2006
all i want for christmas is my two front seats
My eensy lickle bitsy silver car was stolen tonight. Hopefully she didn't go down quietly. Miss Bruce fights dirty. She is the kind of girl who keeps a razor blade in her ponytail and a bottle of lye in her cupholder just in case someone tries to eff with her. Once I saw her give an old lady a titty twister just so she could get a good parking spot.
Unfortunately for our wallets and homeowners policy, the big stroller was in there, we just put on four new tires, Dave filled up the tank today as a favor for me who complains all the time about the needle on E, and Jake's big boy car seat stays in the car all the time. I like to think that the seat will make it to someone who needs it. The stroller was uber-nice, if not a bit bulky and heavy. It was great for lugging baby gear and groceries around, but I won't miss jamming that thing in the trunk or lugging it in and out of the house. Someone else can be burdened.
The house keys were probably in the car and we are morons who, against our better judgment, left the registration and insurance info in the glove box after our last bout with the state police and their radar guns, which means that our keys and address are in the hands of the bad guys. We will get the locks changed tomorrow and the deadbolt is on tonight. Luckily I can sleep peacefully knowing that the little thugs who stole my car will be busy tearing it apart tonight. And I take great comfort in knowing they will probably be dead at the hands of Philadelphia street violence by the time they are 21. Karma is a bitch, and so was Miss Bruce.
Unfortunately for our wallets and homeowners policy, the big stroller was in there, we just put on four new tires, Dave filled up the tank today as a favor for me who complains all the time about the needle on E, and Jake's big boy car seat stays in the car all the time. I like to think that the seat will make it to someone who needs it. The stroller was uber-nice, if not a bit bulky and heavy. It was great for lugging baby gear and groceries around, but I won't miss jamming that thing in the trunk or lugging it in and out of the house. Someone else can be burdened.
The house keys were probably in the car and we are morons who, against our better judgment, left the registration and insurance info in the glove box after our last bout with the state police and their radar guns, which means that our keys and address are in the hands of the bad guys. We will get the locks changed tomorrow and the deadbolt is on tonight. Luckily I can sleep peacefully knowing that the little thugs who stole my car will be busy tearing it apart tonight. And I take great comfort in knowing they will probably be dead at the hands of Philadelphia street violence by the time they are 21. Karma is a bitch, and so was Miss Bruce.
let's not forget my first
Bruce was the second car I owned. We bought her in April 2005 when Dave took a job that required some travel. When I graduated from college in 98, I took over the rights to Frau Blue, my mom's matronly powder blue 1989 Chevy Celebrity. She had four doors, chrome bumpers, and was proudly constructed of sweat, love, and Detroit steel but handled with the staunch precision of fine German engineering. While Miss Bruce was a bit more high tech, she was made of silver (don't you dare say grey or you might get slapped) Plexiglas and wasabi. You felt safe in Blue. She was the kind of girl who took pride in her brawn. She held you to her ample bosom while she plowed through a storm, and made you schnitzel and apple streudel when you were down. She didn't mind if you let the Thompson Twins loop on the tape deck or rolled the windows down by hand on a nice day, one by one while you were at red lights.
When our crappy mayor was elected, he decided that he was going to clean the Philadelphia streets by towing 1000 abandoned cars per day for forty days. As citizens, all we had to do was call a number to report a car and it was towed, no questions asked. It's a great way to meet that goal. If your car was mistakenly towed, you just had to go to the tow yard with proof of registration and ownership and you'd get your car back and all fines would be dropped.
This sounds good in theory, I guess. Unfortunately the guys with the tow trucks were independent contractors and they weren't always honest about where they were taking the cars once the City ordered them towed. In April of '99 Frau Blue was reported abandoned by an old man on our street who was angry that we parked in front of his house from time to time. The police said she was towed to Penrose Avenue, but the boys at the yard never saw her.
Sometimes when I'm driving down a quiet road on a clear night I look to the stars and I know she is up there, smiling down at me and keeping me safe.
When our crappy mayor was elected, he decided that he was going to clean the Philadelphia streets by towing 1000 abandoned cars per day for forty days. As citizens, all we had to do was call a number to report a car and it was towed, no questions asked. It's a great way to meet that goal. If your car was mistakenly towed, you just had to go to the tow yard with proof of registration and ownership and you'd get your car back and all fines would be dropped.
This sounds good in theory, I guess. Unfortunately the guys with the tow trucks were independent contractors and they weren't always honest about where they were taking the cars once the City ordered them towed. In April of '99 Frau Blue was reported abandoned by an old man on our street who was angry that we parked in front of his house from time to time. The police said she was towed to Penrose Avenue, but the boys at the yard never saw her.
Sometimes when I'm driving down a quiet road on a clear night I look to the stars and I know she is up there, smiling down at me and keeping me safe.
12.03.2006
more me
Anyone on my email list or MySpace knows how much I love these things. Of course I expect to see it on your blog in one week's time.
Hot chocolate or eggnog? Mostly chocolate, but I do indulge in a glass or two of the nog at parties. It is wonderful with butterscotch schnapps, and the alcohol lets you forget that you are drinking salmonella pus.
Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree? I love, love, love to wrap gifts. Dave and I don't really exchange presents because we are spoiled rotten all through the year and we work on just being together and alone on Christmas Day, and we throw a big party every year as a gift to ourselves and our friends. But, now that Jake is here we will most likely buy him a few things and wrap them up. Next year. I know this is a subject of controversy, but I'm not buying my child gifts this year. I did buy him a little silver piggy bank ornament and am filling it with 2006 coins. He's already started to pull in the Christmas swag, and true to form he loves the paper more than the gift.
Colored lights or white? Colored on the tree and white in the garland. I bought into the white light craze of the nineties, but my tree lights finally burnt out and I went back to the colored ones on the tree this year. I like them SO much better. We had them as kids, and I get a little choked up when I sit in the dark with the tree lit. Don't you dare tell anyone I told you that I get choked up. I have a reputation to uphold. The white lights are pretty, but I don't think I'll go back.
Do you hang mistletoe? No, but my dirty Christmas joke is that I am going to buy myself a mistletoe belt buckle.
When do you put up decorations? the day after Thanksgiving. I'm afraid of the people who clamor for sales out there so I barricade myself in the house with a pot of coffee and some Christmas music.
What does your favorite Christmas meal include? cookies
Favorite Christmas memory from childhood? Brian and I trying to fall asleep on Christmas Eve, I think of that feeling every time I see that Disney commercial with the little boy and girl in bed on the night before their vacation. I love when the little boy says "but I'm too excited to sleep!". Christmas Eve was rough for me. I remember sitting through the church service having severe anxiety that Santa would get to the house before we got home. For some reason I believed that if you caught Santa in the act he would punish you. Twisted kid, I was.
My favorite part of Christmas morning was emptying my stocking on the floor. We always got oranges and Hershey kisses, blank tapes, pens, pencils, and whatever other little stuff was in there.
How and when did you learn the truth about Santa? I have a very vivid memory of sitting on my parent's bed and my dad telling me that what I was hearing was true, there was no Santa but I better not tell my brother. He says that never happens, and in my memory he is wearing jean shorts so maybe it was a dream. I remember it so well though, right down to staring at the picture of our boat he kept on the nightstand.
I guess I heard it from the kids at school in second or third grade.
Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? My mom would always let us open one.
How do you decorate your Christmas tree? It is different each year. This year I only have lights, it was the first year I did colored lights and I thought it was so pretty that I just ought to leave well enough alone. I may put little holes in the cut-out cookies and hang them with ribbon, all you have to do is brush them with an egg wash and they turn out nice and they don't crumble. But, I don't know if people are going to think it is gross to eat goodies off my tree. Then again, that means more cookies for me... Last year I put my grandparent's ornaments on my tree, they are very old and I remember decorating their tree as a child. I didn't want to chance them getting broken by eager little baby hands. The year before that all candy canes, before that was strings of popcorn. I loved it, but it was very labor intensive. This year I'm going to buy some shatterproof bulbs (or is it balls? I never know. Let's go with ornaments) on clearance and stick with them through the baby years.
Snow! Love it or leave it? On Christmas, I love it. I grew up in the snow belt and moved away when I was eighteen to get away from the cold (and parental authority of course). It is terribly depressing to learn that not everyone in Pennsylvania had a white Christmas. Here in Philadelphia we are lucky to have a dusting by then, and the suburbs just may have an inch or so.
Can you ice skate? I dabble.
Do you remember your favorite gift? No. I guess I should say my engagement ring, but I don't think that is the favorite. I actually asked for an engagement dog. That didn't work out so well.
What's the most important thing about Christmas for you? I love to catch up with family and friends that I don't get to see often. What is of utmost importance to me is not getting caught up in the hype. So many people focus on the gifts and the meals and everything else that they lose sight of the season. Stupid capitalist America.
What is your favorite Christmas tradition? Decorating and making cookies tops the list now. I'm sure that will change in the next few years. I also love to walk around the neighborhood while it is snowing and look at the light and into people's front windows. Truth be told, I walk around the neighborhood year-round just to look in people's windows, but it is extra nice at Christmastime.
What tops your tree? An old-fashioned hand blown pointy topper that I picked up at the supermarket for $5.99.
What is your favorite Christmas song? I love to sing There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays. Oh, and Winter Wonderland because I can change the words to "Later on, we'll perspire, as we dream by the fire". I like the pretty classics best though.
Hot chocolate or eggnog? Mostly chocolate, but I do indulge in a glass or two of the nog at parties. It is wonderful with butterscotch schnapps, and the alcohol lets you forget that you are drinking salmonella pus.
Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree? I love, love, love to wrap gifts. Dave and I don't really exchange presents because we are spoiled rotten all through the year and we work on just being together and alone on Christmas Day, and we throw a big party every year as a gift to ourselves and our friends. But, now that Jake is here we will most likely buy him a few things and wrap them up. Next year. I know this is a subject of controversy, but I'm not buying my child gifts this year. I did buy him a little silver piggy bank ornament and am filling it with 2006 coins. He's already started to pull in the Christmas swag, and true to form he loves the paper more than the gift.
Colored lights or white? Colored on the tree and white in the garland. I bought into the white light craze of the nineties, but my tree lights finally burnt out and I went back to the colored ones on the tree this year. I like them SO much better. We had them as kids, and I get a little choked up when I sit in the dark with the tree lit. Don't you dare tell anyone I told you that I get choked up. I have a reputation to uphold. The white lights are pretty, but I don't think I'll go back.
Do you hang mistletoe? No, but my dirty Christmas joke is that I am going to buy myself a mistletoe belt buckle.
When do you put up decorations? the day after Thanksgiving. I'm afraid of the people who clamor for sales out there so I barricade myself in the house with a pot of coffee and some Christmas music.
What does your favorite Christmas meal include? cookies
Favorite Christmas memory from childhood? Brian and I trying to fall asleep on Christmas Eve, I think of that feeling every time I see that Disney commercial with the little boy and girl in bed on the night before their vacation. I love when the little boy says "but I'm too excited to sleep!". Christmas Eve was rough for me. I remember sitting through the church service having severe anxiety that Santa would get to the house before we got home. For some reason I believed that if you caught Santa in the act he would punish you. Twisted kid, I was.
My favorite part of Christmas morning was emptying my stocking on the floor. We always got oranges and Hershey kisses, blank tapes, pens, pencils, and whatever other little stuff was in there.
How and when did you learn the truth about Santa? I have a very vivid memory of sitting on my parent's bed and my dad telling me that what I was hearing was true, there was no Santa but I better not tell my brother. He says that never happens, and in my memory he is wearing jean shorts so maybe it was a dream. I remember it so well though, right down to staring at the picture of our boat he kept on the nightstand.
I guess I heard it from the kids at school in second or third grade.
Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? My mom would always let us open one.
How do you decorate your Christmas tree? It is different each year. This year I only have lights, it was the first year I did colored lights and I thought it was so pretty that I just ought to leave well enough alone. I may put little holes in the cut-out cookies and hang them with ribbon, all you have to do is brush them with an egg wash and they turn out nice and they don't crumble. But, I don't know if people are going to think it is gross to eat goodies off my tree. Then again, that means more cookies for me... Last year I put my grandparent's ornaments on my tree, they are very old and I remember decorating their tree as a child. I didn't want to chance them getting broken by eager little baby hands. The year before that all candy canes, before that was strings of popcorn. I loved it, but it was very labor intensive. This year I'm going to buy some shatterproof bulbs (or is it balls? I never know. Let's go with ornaments) on clearance and stick with them through the baby years.
Snow! Love it or leave it? On Christmas, I love it. I grew up in the snow belt and moved away when I was eighteen to get away from the cold (and parental authority of course). It is terribly depressing to learn that not everyone in Pennsylvania had a white Christmas. Here in Philadelphia we are lucky to have a dusting by then, and the suburbs just may have an inch or so.
Can you ice skate? I dabble.
Do you remember your favorite gift? No. I guess I should say my engagement ring, but I don't think that is the favorite. I actually asked for an engagement dog. That didn't work out so well.
What's the most important thing about Christmas for you? I love to catch up with family and friends that I don't get to see often. What is of utmost importance to me is not getting caught up in the hype. So many people focus on the gifts and the meals and everything else that they lose sight of the season. Stupid capitalist America.
What is your favorite Christmas tradition? Decorating and making cookies tops the list now. I'm sure that will change in the next few years. I also love to walk around the neighborhood while it is snowing and look at the light and into people's front windows. Truth be told, I walk around the neighborhood year-round just to look in people's windows, but it is extra nice at Christmastime.
What tops your tree? An old-fashioned hand blown pointy topper that I picked up at the supermarket for $5.99.
What is your favorite Christmas song? I love to sing There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays. Oh, and Winter Wonderland because I can change the words to "Later on, we'll perspire, as we dream by the fire". I like the pretty classics best though.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
