What a difference a year makes

I've spent a lot of time recently thinking about what happened a year ago tomorrow. It's been 365 days since I found out I had an incompetent cervix and had the surgery that saved my pregnancy, and ultimately, my little boy.

I have found myself looking at Jack several times this week, thanking fate for intervening. For having an ultrasound at the right time. For having the right doctor on call to perform the surgery. For the cerclage doing its job.

A year ago today, I was still a naive pregnant woman who believed the worst of my pregnancy was behind me with the morning sickness and exhaustion a thing of the past. I was looking forward to wearing cute maternity clothes and decorating a nursery.

A year ago tomorrow, everything changed. I knew we could lose Jack before we even knew him. I learned to live my life in weeks -- first getting to 24, then 28, then 32, finally 36 and full-term. I spent my days in bed, worried that every twinge was the beginning of the end.

I literally can't believe it's been only a year. I feel like a decade has passed. At the time, every day seemed interminably long. It seemed like each week was a month.

But since Jack was born, time has taken on a life of its own. Somehow, my baby is going to be eight months old next week. How is that possible? I still remember bringing him home from the hospital and the preemie diapers fitting his little butt.

I think this weekend I'll be hugging Jack a little tighter and kissing him a little more. I know how lucky we are to have him. I hope other women out there in my situation can be as fortunate.

Walk like an Egyptian

Dear Mommy,

Please cease and desist with the tyranny that is preventing me from walking.

I realize you have things to do. Work, eating, sleeping. Occasionally, you like to shower. Perhaps even leave the house every now and then.

But those things are interfering with you holding my hands and walking around the living room. I realize that the 300th lap of a 10-foot radius in an hour might be a wee bit repetitive, but I can't get enough of it.

Please know that when you try to sit me down, I will go rigid and refuse to bend. This is what's known as "the avoidance technique." Get a clue, woman. I don't want to sit.

This crawling business can get me from Point 1 to Point B, sure. And I see the delight in your eyes when I crawl towards you from across the room. But it's just not getting the job done.

I want to walk like a drunken sailor (similar to cursing like a drunken sailor, but that's for a few years from now) and then practice walking like a drunken sailor at a faster pace -- somewhat like running, but really just fast walking.

I do appreciate you trying to mix it up a little and walk with me outside on the driveway. That's fun. So thanks for the extra effort. But can you please block off more time for this?

If you would be so kind as to remove the blocks and toys from my path, that would be juuuuuust super. I hate having to kick blocks out of the way and stepping on my rattle just slows me down. I have no problem with you stepping on these items, however, as you make a funny yelping noise as the block edge punctures the arch of your delicate foot.

Your back is aching from bending over? Suck it up. Rub some dirt in it. This is parenting.

So if you could clear your schedule for the next couple of days, we'll just get right at it.

Sincerely,
Jack

CC: Daddy


Isn't this fun?

No sleep til Brooklyn

Remember two weeks ago when I said Jack was sleeping through the night?

He did. For six straight nights. And then he stopped.

He stopped, of course, just when we were starting to feel smug. Each morning I would wake refreshed and without my left arm asleep under the weight of my body. I had even stopped waking every hour to check the clock and marvel at how long he had been sleeping.

Oh that smugness, it bites ya in the ass every time.

We went away overnight and he went to Grandma's and I'm sure since it was out of his normal routine and sleep setting, he woke up. Then the next night he wet through his jammies and his sheets. Then the next night, well I think he just figured the all-you-can-eat breastaurant was open for business so he might as well get his fill.

So we're back to the 3 a.m. wakeups and the sleeping in our bed half the night.

I am, however, getting some better naps out of him. So I guess it's six of one, half-dozen of another. Granted, his afternoon nap is 30 minutes in his crib and two hours on my lap, but he's sleeping isn't he?

I almost think it's worse that he slept those six nights. We know he can do it. He's clearly just screwing with us now.

Baby fight club

Jack had his very first baby fight this weekend.

It was awesome.

Our friends/neighbors had a birthday party for their 4-year-old daughter, Claire, and invited us to attend. Afterward, all the adults hung out at their house with wine/beer while the bigger kids ran around and the little ones walked/crawled around the living room.

Our friends also have an 11-month-old girl, Cate, who Jack plays with quite a bit. She's obviously much bigger than him, but he holds his own pretty well. Our friends are always afraid Cate's going to poke him or knock him down, but I think he needs to learn the ways of these wily women while he's young.

But at the party, there was another 11-month-old. This one was a boy.

I think Jack sensed the little boy was trying to hone in on his woman. So he took the necessary action to protect his turf.

He started screeching at the little boy and lunging at him. Josh was helping him stand and Jack kept trying to throw himself at the little boy.

"Let me at him! Daddy, get off me. No, seriously. I am going to annihilate this kid."

We were totally laughing because he's never had that reaction to another baby before. Usually he's all smiles and laughs and trying to touch them nicely.

I have to believe it was the love triangle that brought it out in him, because he's been around other little boys and been fine. A few weeks ago, we met an online friend of mine (Hi Petra!) at the zoo with her little boy, Dominick. The boys are a week apart in age, and Jack adored hanging out with Dom.

We spread a blanket out on the grass and they were chillin' and talking to each other. Jack wasn't crawling yet then, but Dom was all over the place. Jack would watch him go like "Whoa. I gotta get in on that action."

At one point, Jack started to lean backward and he grabbed Dom and brought him down with him. Kind of a "If I'm going down, you're going down with me, buddy" maneuver.

Clearly, we can expect he won't have a career in the mafia with that attitude.

Away from it all

Are we bad parents? Josh and I went away (I had a business trip) this week for one night and one day. We enjoyed ourselves immensely. We drank beer, we saw a baseball game, we went to dinner, we stayed overnight in a hotel room.

We left Jack at Grandma and Grandpa's and high-tailed it out of the state. I still had to pump, but it was so nice to be away. And just be adults again. And not have to worry about changing poopy diapers or a middle-of-the-night wakeup call.

This is the third time we've gone away without Jack since he's been born. And to be honest with you, I think we need it. It's nice to get away.

I think work-outside-the-home moms might feel differently. If you only get to see your baby a few hours each day, you might not want to leave him or her. But for me, since I am with him 24-7, it's a nice respite.

Of course, we miss him. We talk about him. I look at his picture on my laptop. And the first time he sees me after an absence is the sweetest thing I have experienced. Which makes it all better in the end.

But what about you? Do you go away sans children? How often? And if not, how come?

A slow crawl

Be afraid, be very afraid.

Lock up your valuables. Hide the liquor. Restrain your pets.

The child. He is crawling.



Jack Is Crawling on Vimeo

Silver bullets

I am too tired for writing a real entry. Work is kicking my ass.

But there are bullets! Bullets for an entry! You love it!

In no particular order:

* Jack has slept through the night two consecutive nights. He slept for 11 hours both nights. In his crib. Putting it in writing just brought a hex upon our house. I am sure he will not do it again now until he is 30.

* Ironically, I am more tired when he sleeps straight through. This is because I wake every hour and think to myself, "Oh my God, look what time it is and he's still sleeping." I contemplate waking Josh to discuss this. I figure he would not like to talk about it at 4 a.m. so I don't. Instead I poke him to see if he is asleep. He is.

* Jack takes naps in his crib. Some of these naps last as long as two hours. Some are his usual 30 minutes. He is averaging about 45 minutes in the crib. He's improving.

* We have our first Kindermusik class tomorrow morning. I went out and bought a new outfit. No, not for Jack. For me. Mommy must look hot for the other mommies.

* Last night was date night. Dinner and a movie. Mexican and "Hollywoodland." Both were excellent. I like me some tacos and Ben Affleck.

* Jack does this new Tarzan thing where he flails his arms and beats his stomach and chest with his hands while yelling, "AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH." He is amused by the sound waves he can make. As are we.

* Jack had his first teething biscuit today. He picked it up and got it in his mouth on the first try. Impressive! He also got it in his hair on the first try. And on his shirt. And his pants. And somehow, in his ear. Fun!

He cleaned up pretty well.

Sept. 11 revisited

So it's been five years since the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks. It feels weird to blog about my thoughts on it. It's not like I was personally affected in any way. I had a lot of friends in New York. I didn't know anyone in Washington DC. I didn't know anyone on any of the flights. But like everyone, I will never forget the details of that day.

For me, I will always remember that it was Josh who told me what had happened. I had worked a late game the night before, filing a story and editing the site and leaving the ballpark at 3 a.m. I rolled into bed around 3:30, thinking "I am sleeping so late it is ridiculous." I woke to my phone ringing at 7:55 a.m. and I remember answering with a mumbled and annoyed, "What?"

Josh was calling me from Bloomington and told me a plane had hit the World Trade Center and I remember saying, "A little plane?" because I was groggy and picturing a small Cessna that got too close to the building or something.

He told me to turn on the TV and I asked what channel and he said "Any. It's all over the news."

I then watched the NBC and CNN. I logged on to my computer and sat in a chat room with my co-workers who were spread around the country. No one knew what to think. I watched as the first tower fell and then it was my turn to tell Josh what had happened.

They canceled the games that day, and for the rest of the week. I remember posting the story about the games being canceled and trying to come up with the right wording. I used a picture of a flag at half-staff.

I remember filling my car up with gas, because people were saying the price was going to skyrocket. I remember finding out that a friend of Josh's lost his younger brother in the World Trade Center. That was rather sobering.

Most of all, I remember feeling uncertain. No one knew what was happening, no one knew what was happening next. And has anything really changed? Dunno.

My life has changed immensely. I am married. Have a baby. I hope Jack doesn't have to live through his own 9/11-type moment. But unfortunately, I think it's probably inevitable.

Seven months

Dear Jack,

Well buddy, today you turned seven months old. This last month has gone so fast. I feel like I just took you to your six-month doctor appointment and here we are entering month eight already.



You've made some big strides this month.

You started eating two meals a day of solids. And you're really starting to groove on all the different foods. So far you love all the vegetables and like pears and applesauce and blueberries. But peaches? Not so much. And we've given up on bananas. Your reaction, even when they are mixed with other fruits, is to scrunch up your face and arch your back and grunt in protest.

Every morning when you get your oatmeal and fruit, you take the first taste and screw up your face as if to say, "Wait, what in the samhell is THIS?" And then you recognize that you have, indeed, had this before and we're not trying to sneak in any banana and you settle in for a good meal.

But none of this compares to the pure joy yogurt brings to your life. You slurp it up like there's no tomorrow. I think if we ever took yogurt out of your menu, you may decide that is just not a life worth living. You lunge for the spoon and "mmmmmm" your way through the portion. I think you would eat 2 cups at a time if we offered it.



You've also exploded in your babbling this month.

Your mouth is constantly moving, mostly in some combination of "ma" "ba" or "bwha." A normal conversation with you now involves a lengthy monologue on your part that sounds something like "Mamamamaaaaa mmmmmmmbaaaa babababBABA maaaaamamama."

It is killing your father that you won't say "Da" in with the rest of those sounds. He tries to coach you on it every time he hears you babbling "mamama" but you only give us a good "Da" every once in a while. Don't worry though, when you do start saying it, it will be all the more special for Daddy.



There's still no crawling in this house. You have no interest in it and can't be bothered when you can roll to everything you need. Instead, your energies are being spent on pulling yourself up on our outstretched hands and walking with our assistance.

You're also getting so much better at your sitting. You can now reach forward and grab a toy and then right yourself. If you get wobbly, you'll put your hand down to steady yourself. But you still don't get the concept that if you lean back, you will fall and bang your head on the floor. We try to surround you with pillows, but then you end up getting stuck on them when you roll around.

We probably should just surround you with pillows at all times, considering the "Stroller Incident" that occurred two weeks ago. Suffice it to say, there were stairs and a flipping of the stroller that ended with a fractured skull. We have never felt as bad as we did at the moment it happened. You recovered so quickly -- you were playing and laughing within minutes -- but Mommy and Daddy learned a valuable lesson about safety.

Watching you get a CT scan was one of the scariest moments of my life. I was trying to play it cool and reassure you, but my heart was breaking into a million pieces watching you suck your pacifier as your little head was restrained and the rest of your body was swaddled so you couldn't move.

Everything turned out fine, but it really made me stop and realize just how lucky we were. The boy in the hospital room with you had just had brain surgery and I heard the doctors say it was the first time he had opened his eyes since the surgery. I felt awful for that other mom. You, Jack, are a healthy little boy (never even had a cold, knock on wood) with a delightful disposition and an awesome personality. It is our job to help you grow and keep you safe. We felt we had let you down and I never want to feel that way again.



But by the following weekend, you were good as new and we took you on your first vacation with Grandma and Grandpa and Beth and Paul. We all went to Lake Geneva for the weekend and had a great time. You had so much fun swimming and playing, and even behaved exceptionally well at restaurants. You rolled with the punches and slept in your Pack 'N Play in an unfamiliar location.

Not that you were sleeping all that well in familiar locations. Your sleep left much to be desired this month. You started waking at 1:30 a.m. every night. Seriously. Every. Single. Night.

And because Mommy needs the sleep to function for things like, oh, work, I would bring you in bed with me. Where you would sleep well for the rest of the night, eating approximately four or five times. Oh sure, you slept well. I lost all feeling in my left arm for a month because I was sleeping on one side. And I would just drift off into a deep sleep when you would start looking for the boob again.

But in the last week, you surprised me and slept eight straight hours in your crib a few times. And you've suddenly become able to go longer stretches without nursing during the day. Your normal every-two-hours routine has now stretched to two, three or even four hours between feedings.

I know I say each month that your personality shows itself more and more, but that's because it's true. You are a very inquisitive little boy. You watch the cats and study what they are doing. You love to watch the bigger kids at the playground, all the while with a huge smile on your face. You always want anything I have in my hands -- cell phone, water bottle, paper, you name it. You always make a grab for it and of course, it goes right in the mouth.



But my favorite part of this month's personality changes have been in your relationship with me. You grab me around the neck now and hug me tight with a huge grin on your face. You grab both of my cheeks in your hands and pull my face as close to yours as you can. And you started giving me kisses. Big, wet, open-mouth baby kisses. They land on my mouth, my cheek, my chin and my forehead. But I savor each and every one of them

Tonight I was sitting outside with you and I was kissing your cheek and then you would kiss mine and then I would kiss yours again. And I told you that Mommy was going to kiss you as many times as she wanted now, because someday, you won't want Mommy kissing you all the time.

But for now, I don't have anything to worry about. You're content to let me fawn all over you and to fawn right back. And I can't get enough of those baby cheeks, so I'm going to keep on kissing you as much as I can.

Love,
Mommy

Hair-raising tales

When we moved recently, we lost our cleaning lady. So we had to actually, GASP, clean our second house ourselves.

Now you might think, "Damn, she is a spoiled brat." But stop for a moment and remember, we have TWO houses to keep clean now. Most moms barely have time to pick up the toys in one house. Between the two houses we now have five bathrooms, six bedrooms and two kitchens.

That's a hell of a lot of Windex.

Because we had a cleaning lady at our weekday house, we never needed any cleaning supplies. The magic mop fairy came and cleaned things up when we left for the weekend and wow, wasn't that fabulous?

We had banished the cats to Josh's parents' house for a few weeks before we moved and they recently made their way back home. Along with them, came their cast-off hair.

Because we never had any need for a vacuum, one did not live in our closet. And because the cleaning lady kept things in order, we never really noticed the cat hair building up.

But now. Oh my. Just, oh my. We ordered a vacuum, but it's not arrived yet. Thank you amazon.com for your speedy delivery. So we wait.

Poor Jack.

He loves the kitties. He watches them intently and lunges for them when they come close enough. We're trying to teach him the concept of "gentle" but he's having some trouble grasping it.

He is, however, having no problem grasping the cats. He just reaches out and grabs a whisker, an ear and most often, a handful of fur. Which we then have to pry out of his tiny hands -- as he tries to shove them in his mouth -- saying, "Yucky! Noooooo. That's yucky. You don't want that."

I'm also constantly plucking cat hair off him. From his clothes, his face, his hands -- it doesn't stop. Today when he was nursing I could see a random hair in his mouth. That's where I draw the line -- there will be no cat hair on my boobs. Some things are just sacred.

And hey, just for the hell of it, here's a random picture from this weekend. A weekend where no one was covered in cat hair because we stayed at a lovely condo in Lake Geneva with my family.

Seriously, how white trash are we? My son is wearing nothing but a bib and a diaper. But damn, he is cute.