funny boy

Jake and I walked to daycare this morning because it was such a beautiful day (read: we couldn't get it together fast enough to catch a ride). Half way there we ran into a youngie oldish lady walking with a cane. Jake said, "oh no! she lost her sheep!".

Cute.

Luckily it came out "oh no! she nost'er sheep!" so maybe she didn't notice. She seemed very preoccupied with not letting her neighbors see her sneak in her house at 8 am with her party clothes still on. For shame!

Oh, and when I put a Hawaiian (don't judge me, it is just red and white, nothing major) shirt on Jake this morning he said "oh, mommy, flowers! i just like a princess!" and started twirling around with his index finger on top of his head. It was, um, sweet. I think I have to stop telling him to stop acting like a princess whenever he is acting like a big old sissy. It's just that I thought saying "princess" was better than saying that other P-word when he freaks out and melts down because of a bug or dirt on his hands or a pea under his mattress.

In other news, look who decided to open her eyes! Babies are lots more fun when they realize they've been born. Next comes the unfolding of the legs and then the punchy arms. That's my favorite because they start to move around in the world the same way that they moved around in your belly and your brain says "oh I remember that, it was so nice!" and then you start ovulating and decide that you want ten more babies in you. But then the one you have does something really gross that usually involves mucky stuff shooting out of one of its holes and you realize that you should just stick with who you've got for the time being.

labor day

Adrianne has been induced and is laid up in one of those weird adjustable bendyshapey beds with needles in her back and arm. Sounds comfortable, right?

Brian says she is at 5 or 6 centimeters, so hopefully it will be quick and easy.

Well, secretly I want everyone to have a long labor just like I did so I'm in good company and we can all complain about it later, but not really. It was pretty torturous to spend a couple days sans food, cable, and internet and wandering around L&D and hanging in doorways and getting up to pee a lot because of the saline drip and bouncing on labor balls and dreading the cervical checks and switching positions once every ten minutes and trying to convince yourself that if a dog can crawl behind a couch and do this all by herself a girl like me can certainly labor in a hospital surrounded by family and friends and doctors. I am adamantly anti-anesthesia (save for getting your gut torn open- I didn't want to do that without drugs), but I gladly took some Benedryl to help me sleep because I was pretty damn beat. I maybe remember watching a little television, but I mostly remember just talking to the people who were there visiting me and really, really wanting my mom to stay and everyone else to go when the contractions hit but being afraid to be away from my babydaddy for more than eight seconds.

What did you do during your labor? Do you remember it well?

latitude adjustment

I love going back to work after a long weekend and finding an empty voicemail queue and a sparsely populated inbox.

I don't love going back to work after a long weekend.

Good news is that the deck is stained and sealed and the laundry is done and I stuck my toes in the Atlantic and the Chesapeake and the wallpaper is 97% stripped and I'm all tan and still picking sand out of my ears and every one got out of the weekend relatively unscathed. Here's to safe and happy holidays.

Jake was on vacay with his Grandparents A. this weekend down in Ocean City, MD. He got to spend some quality time amazing the old people and playing in the water and hanging out with my other brother Jason and my sister-in-law Carrie.

That's it. That's all the siblings. I promise. Me, Brian, Jason, Ryan, and Carrie- for whom I am ever so grateful because it was high time to add another girl to the mix.

Hey, it's not my fault that I love to talk about me all the time and you weren't listening for the three seconds that I may have mentioned the people I was related to.

Jake didn't miss us but we missed him tons and he looked so big and I swear his hair grew an inch and he grew an inch and he talkin' more betterer and everything. All that growth over three days. He kills me.


The fact that he slept in until 9am each day kills me. He's up at 5.30 at home but we make him stay in bed until at least 6.30 so we don't die of sheer exhaustion.

I was up at 7 each morning which kinda sucked, but at least things got done and I was able to take a mid-day nap every day. I miss naps.

I want one now.

why?

There seems to be a great deal of blog neglect around the world lately. Everyone has an excuse- spring cleaning, spring break, weird readers, weird family, weird life, busted up carpals, busted down computers, wonky providers(or trying to self-host and failing miserably), attempting to withdrawl from the addiction of writing all about yourself and thinking people care, no time, no ideas, no whatever.

I've been backing off a bit too. I've been getting out of the house more, working at work more, doing stuff around the house more, and trying to see if I can actually break my own little addiction to blogging. It's like a sickness.

I've been tempted to ask everyone to delurk so I could get an idea of who keeps coming back. The site meter is good for a few things, but I know way too many people in way too many cities to figure out who my readers actually are. Plus your provider can be hundreds of miles away from you if you live somewhere remote or you work for the government. I've been tempted to not ask everyone to delurk because I might get upset that my 50 or so hits per day are the same five people coming back ten times in a 24 hour period.
Or at least the same sixteen of you that have me on your Google Reader. Okay, okay. Fifteen. I'm on my Google Reader. For shame. Big deal. Who are you fifteen by the way? And what is this bloglines reader? Do I need one? Who has that? And which one of you in Austin keeps finding me by Googling me? We need to have a talk about feeders and readers. SO much easier. You never have to go to an un-updated website ever again. Think of all the time you'll save! More work will get done! Your blog will be better!

You know what? Delurk. Go ahead. What's the worst that will happen? I'll feel unpopular? As if.

All this talk makes me think about why I'm actually blogging in the first place. Originally I wanted to keep my family up to date with what was going on in my belly and then in my house. Then this blog kinda caught on and I was making internet friends and people I never even met actually liked me. I got comments thanking me for putting an honest account of motherhood out there and I figured I'd just go with it. Husbands understood their wives. Wives understood themselves. Friends understood friends. I understood me.

Then I started to realize that I was keeping an excellent account of my life, and Jake's life, and maybe even your life if you are involved with my little family, and maybe Jake would appreciate knowing what his mom was like way back when before she got really old and weird(er) and (more) crippled up and cranky and maybe if he ever has his own little kid someday he could relate to me a little bit better and know that I went through the same things with him that he is going thru with his brat.

Then I started to realize that some of my friends and family members were starting blogs just because I did and they were jealous that their moms were reading my blog instead of loving only them. I think that it is really nice that other people are documenting their lives for themselves, their kids, and the world just because I am.

I've always been a leader, you know. I have an uncanny ability to make you do things and you won't even realize what hit you until after you've done it. Remember when my entire grad program cut their hair uber-short, exactly like mine? That's when I knew I had powers that are better used for good. Some of those girls had really uncomely faces and looked terrible. You are lucky I'm nice, or I would suck you into the vortex of my being and then where would we be?

Guatemala, sipping Koolaid.

nieces pieces

squishykissy

I've been avoiding blogging because I've been feeling extraordinarily mushy and maternal lately and I don't want to annoy you with my ~~*~*~feelings~*~*~~. No, this has nothing to do with Mother's Day (which I shun, btw. I'm sure you aren't surprised).

It has everything to do with me (finally?) coming to the point in my life where I have a hard time dropping Jake off while I go to work/gym/your house/bar/anywhere.

Remember, I'm the girl who dumped Jake like a bad habit after my maternity leave without even leaving my telephone number for the daycare lady as soon as humanly possible. I mentioned in that post that I figured it would take me two weeks to miss him to the point of tears.

It took two years.

Not that I don't miss him enough to skip lunch most days so I can get to him a little earlier or that I secretly sit in his room while he falls asleep just to get some more cuddle time in or that I make excuses to spend time with him just for the sake of spending time with him. I'm talking about horrible heartwrenching pain at the thought of leaving him with someone else while I go develop my "career". Because I'm so business-oriented, you know.

Jake is such a fun little person lately, and save for today, the weather is amazing and there are tons of things to do outside in our town. Plus he is still napping so I don't have to put up with him for a solid two hours in the middle of the day.

Jake's daycare was closed last week, and about 5 pm on Friday the 2nd panic set in that I would have to spend four straight days with this kid. Serious panic. Like the kind that makes you sweat and lose sleep. Never have I ever since he was less than twelve weeks old spent four straight days with him. Not for lack of trying, just for lack of available Jake time. If you leaf through my dayplanner you will see a lot of green ink in there. That's Jake's schedule. Lots of parties and playdates and sleepovers and dinner engagements for that kid. If you want him, book him now. Evenings and weekends are filling up fast. Reserve by May 31st and discounted, off-season non-refundable rates apply. No guarantees nor warranties pertaining to weather and behavior. Does not include drinks or meals, diapers and sippy cups will be provided. Tips, tax, and title not included.

Dave stepped up on Saturday and Sunday breezed by with the help of some friends and a four year old child and a three hour family nap at dinner time. Monday was pretty simple because Jake was on an eating boycott and a napping binge so I got the yard hosed down and some closets cleaned out and some damn good music listened to and for ten minutes I thought about how maybe I could do this and maybe if we stop eating three meals a day and cut the electricity to half of the house and limit showers to one per week I could afford to be a stay at home mom. Then the mail dropped in the door and told me that our escrow account was reassessed and the mortgage company wants a bigger dollar amount every month and two credit card bills came and I noticed how dangerously empty the refrigerator looked and someone asked me to go out for happy hour and then I was reminded how much I love nice bags and lamplight and cool sneakers and eating lunch and drinking cocktails and being in good standing with Sallie Mae. I'm expensive and I should probably keep my job.

I was supposed to stay home with Jake on Tuesday too, but I ended up working in the morning and then taking him to a spanky crunchy playground in Old City where all the moms talked and helped one other and the kids shared snacks and toys and we all held hands and sang songs and candy and pennies fell from the sky and bunny rabbits ate from our hands and birds tied our shoes for us. It was very different from the playground we usually go to. Better in someways, creepier in others.

Jake spent Wednesday day and night at Kat Kat's and I was more than ready to snatch him up on Thursday after supper.

Friday we all went to Gross Jersey and hung out at the aquarium (click for pics) for a few hours then dropped the boy at the grandparents until yesterday.

So all that worry about drowning in Jake for nothing. Who knew that I'd hit some sort of mothering milestone and actually want to wake up early in the morning and be bothered by a three foot tall person all day?

newsworthy

I boycott the media from time to time, whenever current events seem a little much for me. I focus on something that I can do locally and it makes me feel a little bit better about the state of things. Isn't that obnoxious? That I'm so overwhelmed with OPP that I have to stop listening to the boxes and do something good to make ME feel better?

Did I ever tell you that I don't believe in pure altruism? I am a firm believer in good deeds and compassion, however, so it all makes up for itself in the end. Things get done and turn out a little better than they were at the beginning of the day.

I am doing my reading for my work-class this afternoon, and I ran across something that Mr. Rogers' mom told him when he was little and afraid of what he saw on the news. "Look for the helpers.", she told him, "You will always find people who are helping".

I'm gonna go ahead and bet Mrs. Rogers was a pretty good mom.

time off

I'm enjoying an afternoon in an empty house- just me, the animals, some chores, a couple beers, and an ess load of Buddy Cole monologues.

Here is to daddy-baby time, nineties comedy, and You Tube.

It's like a vortex. All of a sudden I'm childless, manless, slighly drunk, watching KitH, and feel like I'm still in my teens. So classy.

I can't wait until Jake is old enough to introduce to tacky hilarity (read:me).

conspiracy

Last night Jake figured out one of the most crippling secrets of childhood.

Jake: a b c d hey!
Me: Hey what?
Jake: a b c d... twinkle twinkle
e f g... little star
mommy, noooooo.
Me: I know, baby. I'm sorry.
Jake: i sorry too, mommy. i sorry.

I didn't think this what a good time to teach him Baa Baa Black Sheep. He's had enough for now.

Did I brag to you that he can do his whole ABC's? He started a couple weeks ago, I'll see if I can get him to commit it to video.

things we say (2nd ed.)

"I don't know if she tore it up, exactly. It is pretty intact. Maybe she stepped on it and its guts squirted out its butt. You know how that happens sometimes."


There is a disemboweled baby bird in my yard and I'm all by myself in my house with Jake and my dog-in-law. If anyone wants to come over and take care of that I'd be much obliged and I'll even crack that 40 of High Life I've been saving for a special occasion and we can share it. I'll even split it 30/10 if you want.

In other news, I no longer believe that there is no such thing as baby pigeons. Seriously, have you ever seen one? I haven't, and I've been living in the city all my life. This is the first time that I've ever been given solid proof that they don't mystically and spontaneously generate as full grown adult pigeons.