Whenever I look into his big blue eyes, I feel lost. He is such a beautiful boy. Especially now, since the days of snuggles and helpless cries have gone. He is so independent. He has always spoken well. He enunciates. In his high pitch voice, he very seriously says, "Actually mommie..." and I cannot help but belly laugh. That of course frustrates him and causes him to be even more articulate. He's small for his age so his outspokenness catches strangers off guard. His 34-lb body barely stands over 3 feet tall, which often causes people to call into question his age. But he is in fact 4 years old, plus a month. Most individuals make it clear how blessed we are to have a healthy child.

We are blessed. He is an amazingly vibrant boy. He is smart... and that is what others say about him (You can only imagine how brilliant I think he is). He is kind. He is generous. He is caring. He exudes good qualities. He is amazing. He is vibrant. He is not healthy.

I rarely speak about that aspect of our lives. It hurts too badly. He has never known any differently and a complaint never leaves his mouth. Instead, he will occasionally tell me in private about the pain. After seeing a specialist for the first year of his life relating to his sleep disorder, we felt a well-deserved reprieve. Until he turned 2 years old and this began. He has an autoimmune disorder which has only ever been unofficially diagnosed. He has seen dozens of doctors (one visit, he saw 5 at one time!) in several hospitals and practices. This one says it is beyond her area of expertise, this one says, "I'm a dermatologist, I can only treat what I see", this one says that the method of diagnosis is too invasive. All the while, I treat him at home, calling specialists when things gets too complicated, and wishing that Mary Poppins will find her way to our home with "a spoonful of sugar" and some medicine.

Leaving yet another specialist's office this afternoon leaves me feeling depleted. My little boy hurts and, even though he never speaks of it, he shouldn't hurt. He should be carefree. Instead I tote him to doctors who pass on the responsibility to another practitioner, requesting that we check back in a few months.

Somehow this dead end leaves me with hope. Even though we have no new information, we've checked one more name off the list.

So it begins...

Before baby J was even born, we were told that someday soon he would know more than we do, or at least think he does. Well, it is beginning.

Yesterday we went to Legoland. If you haven't been, I encourage you to go at least once (but buy your tickets online beforehand). There is nothing that can't be done with a Lego. If you have a child with you who doesn't already own every Lego set known to mankind, plan to buy one on your way out the door several hours later. We did. We bought baby J his very first Duplo. It is a 62 piece set, which sounds like a lot more than it is, with a person, the makings for a house, alphabet blocks, 2 flowers, a cat, and a car base. I set them all out for hik so that he could play with them when he woke today. I even left out the single Duplo firetruck bought for him by a friend long ago.

I looked at all the pieces and wondered what he would create. His first task, of course, involved the car. He loaded the flowers on the base like a flat bed. I thought, "Wouldn't have been my first move, but okay." Then he took the person, put her in the firetruck. He put the cat on the back and attached it to the car base using the trailer hitch. You see, I hadn't noticed the hitch but he had formulated a creative plan in the split second that I set him at the table.

So it befan today. He is learning at a much greater level than I am. At this rate, he will know everything by the time he is twelve.

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My baby isn't anymore.

A few weeks ago, baby J made the connection that he is identified in a particular manner. He has called others by their names for awhile now. He knows his meemaw and peepaw. He knows his mommie and papa. He even knows his uncles and uncles by friendship. But when we would ask his name, he would reply with a confident "baby". I'm not sure how he adopted this name for himself, as he is never called baby. I call him "bugs" (not sure why) and papa calls him "little man". Other people call him by the shortened version of his name. I began to pay more attention to how other people identified him. Nope. Nobody calls him baby. I was fine with this reference for himself, because he is my baby and the nickname won't be fitting for much longer.

And he has already begun to outgrow it.

 A few days ago, while playing the "who's that?" name game, he called himself by his name.

In fact, I overheard he and his papa having a conversation yesterday. Papa reprimanded him for having his tongue out while climbing on the bed (he was getting the duvet wet) and asked if he was a little doggie. He replied, "I no doggie. I boy."

My baby J is redefining himself as a boy now. He is almost 2. He is a boy. And too rapidly in my opinion.

Kissy Face (The Sequel)

In a previous post, I described baby J's "kiss" routine with all of his bath toys. Tonight, while bathing, he began handing me his toys. First, his rubber duck. "Kiss kiss". I gave his ducky a peck on the bill. Then his tug boat. "Kiss kiss". This time I gave a big smooch only to hear poppy warn, "He just peed in the tub."

No more "kiss kiss" with the bath toys.

Kissy Face

Sorry... I am very very sorry. I hadn't even realized that my last post was on June 28th. Yikes! It doesn't feel like it was that long ago.

Baby J reminded me today, though, of why I love to share little snippets of our life online. He was in the bath tub with all his Munchkin bath toys. He has a dozen or so and each is in the shape of a sea creature. He would gently lift each toy out of the water, rinse it under the faucet, give it a kiss on its mouth, then hand it to me and say "kiss kiss". This went on repeatedly until he and I had both kissed each little toy creature three times. While he was putting them all back in the tub for a fourth round, I unsuspectingly reached behind him and pulled the bath plug.

Then he climbed out of the tub and I bundled him in a towel. He walked towards the stairs and up towards bed. As he closed the gate behind him, his little pinky got caught. I quickly swooped him up only to hear "kiss kiss". And I did. Then he called poppy and asked for another "kiss kiss".

Before bed, he as usual gave us our individual hugs and "kiss kiss", then said his sweet "buh-bye" as we tucked him into bed.

I can't wait until morning. Then I will be able to have my morning "kiss kiss". I just can't get over my little kissy face.

The newest family addition

Please allow me to take a moment to introduce the newest member of our family. She doesn't have a name yet, but already has a purpose. According to our latest library addition about potty learning, a doll which potties can help a child connect the idea of drinking, urinating, and wetness. So, today, we began our search for such a doll. First, please know that they only come in pink. Some are even capable of pooping, if fed special separately purchased "baby food". But baby J liked this little girl. She has her own potty which is very similar to his froggy potty (also chosen by him, per "the book"). We searched for big boy pants and found "mouse" (Mickey Mouse Clubhouse) underpants which he gleefully carried around the store.

When it comes to such matters, there is no shortage in the potty market. Actualy potties can range from $9.99 to unlimited amounts (the most expensive I found was $80.99!! It had better train the child for you). Some have splash guards or music or handle bars. There are "starter potties" and those for advanced children. The book section is loaded with wisdom on the matter too. But, when you make it to the potty-ing dolls, expect a limited selection of girl dolls.

One comes with juice packets, baby food, and disposable diapers (I'm too cheap to buy them for my own son, why would I buy them for a doll?!?). The other comes with cloth diapers, a potty chair, and a BPA-free (not really) bottle.

Everything Potty Training Book: $9.99

Lots to Love Babies potty doll with accessories: $15.00

"Mouse" underpants: $9.99

Baby J splashing in LTLB's toilet water: Priceless

Tot Time

Baby feet in the swimming pool are the cutest. I love baby J's little toes anyways, but to see them beneath the water makes them appear even more magical. Those little round toes remind me of grapes fresh off the vine; I just want to gobble them up (don't tell James that I said that; he's never understand that phrase.) Baby J was especially fond of looking at them once I pointed them out too.

We scrambled frantically to the froggie slide. We were the second people in line at the gate. While tot time is restricted to children under 6, children under 6 can still be stressful to a little guy. Last time we were there, baby J saw the slide. And baby J loves slides (the way I love baby feet). So he ran to it. Once he got to the top step, though, he found it a bit intimidating. And the boy who pushed him down it didn't make him less paranoid. Today, I hoped to conquer the fear before the others arrived. He did come down the slide, but not the way you think. He pushed his way down the steps when the hoards of children under 6 arrived. Hopefully next week will be more promising.

The cutest part, though, was that the whole time we were hanging out in the pool, he kept gravitating towards the large, twisty waterslides. I'd hate to be the kid waiting behind baby J in that line! Thankfully, that is a few years off.

While we didn't make much progress in overcoming the slide fear, we did have a great time together just splashing and walking in the water. That's where you'll find us twice a week. By the end of the summer, he should be holding his own on that froggie.

so many things to do and so little time...

Over the course of one day, baby J becomes so many things...

the molder of Play-doh, (Due to his infatuation with all things in the shapes of balls, I taught him to roll a small clump of play-doh between the palms of his hands. He now endearingly refers to yet another object as "balls")

the maker of trouble, (the expression is "No... No." With as frequently as he says the word, people must think that we don't say anything but "No... No".)

the adventurous explorer of wetness,

the happy boy who wishes to play,

the boy who asks "Where is he?" and then playfully pops out saying "There he is!" (We would ask him this and when we'd uncover our eyes or come out of hiding, we would say "There he is!". So, if you are ever wondering why he looks cluelessly at you when you go "Peek-a-Boo", it was unintentional on our part. He knows the game, but plays it a little differently.)

the saver of pennies, (Hopefully we will instill in him the ability to be thrifty and content.)

 

and, of course, our cool guy.

I've lost baby J...

It seems that it was just 30 months ago that baby J began to form. He was my precious little stowaway.

I was a different person then. You might say that I was more of a person. But that mattered very little to me, for I had been given a gift, a little person to lovingly nurture. I had longed for that day for most of my life. As a little girl, I would wrap my dollie inside my dress and tie a ribbon around her so that I could have a "mommie belly". And when my blessing arrived, I knew very little about mommiehood; I still know very little.

That is how it began. It wasn't until today that this finally came to fruition. Honestly, how could something like this happen? One moment, you are grasping so tightly, and the next, something that you thought you couldn't live without is gone. I've lost baby J...










... I did mention that losing baby J is a metaphor for losing the weight equivalent to the little guy, right? 25 pounds down and I'm well on my way!!

Childhood memories... Oh, how refreshing.

Recently I learned that a friend of mine locally is well-acquainted with some of my childhood friends from my birthplace. It triggered so many memories. The one that is more prominent in my mind, is that pictured here. I have looked at a collage of pictures, including this one, so many times and happily remembered being a child.

My parents had set up a large tarp on this huge hill in our backyard. I know that it wasn't all that, but in the mind of a child, it was the best thing on earth. As I look at our faces, all I see is carefree whimsy. Ahhhh... The life of a child.

I love taking time to remember when life was a simple as a big tarp, a hill, and a water hose. How refreshing. I loved being a child. But I think I love being a mommie more and seeing those bright happy eyes over such simple pleasures.  I love knowing that baby J will have memories like this.

Oh, by the way, I am the one front and center.

Cabin Fever...

I wish that I had captured this on film, especially because it has become such a part of our daily routine. But you will have to imagine the scenario.

Imagine, baby J standing at the door or window, shoes in hand, saying "out... out". He has only grown more emphatic since inheriting a Fisher Price playhouse which at present resides in the far corner of our property. From the dining room window, he can clearly see its presence. So, he often adds to his reportoire "out... house... out". But since monsoon season so quickly approached, he doesn't understand that "out... house... out" isn't an option. And the toys inside have gotten soooo boring.

Today we will venture out in search of an indoor version of what he loves so much. If you call or come by and we aren't available, sorry. We are "out... out".

Mommiehood: Feeling His Pain

Since becoming a mommie, I've often had the opportunity presented to me to recount my own childhood.

I've shared many of those experiences. Many of them are lessons I learn as I see baby J learn them.

Today, we shared another of those. As a child, I remember vividly the excitement of having plans. Knowing that a friend was coming over or an outing to the zoo was enough to brighten the gloomiest days. I would eagerly anticipate and remind myself repeatedly and sometimes even have countdowns. And then the phone would ring and my mom would break the bad news... cancelled.

My mom would always comfort me and remind me that everything would be okay. She would even make alternate plans, but it just wasn't the same. And I honestly believed that she had no idea how much it hurt...

... until today.

This afternoon baby J had a playdate. When I told him about it this morning, he was so excited. He kept telling his papa and even using his little buddy's name. "Park.... park." Then, the dreaded text arrived. My heart immediately sank. I think that it affected me more that it did him. How can I explain this to a 19-month old? He isn't going to understand. He was so excited!

That is when the epiphany arrived. How often I had told my mom that you don't know what it feels like. And she would look at me and tell me that it was okay. Then we would spend that time together.

It still broke my heart to see those sad little eyes when he awoke from his nap only to be on his way back home. But we spent our afternoon together. And we can never have too much time together, right?

A Mommie's Love Is...

... kneeling on a single stall bathroom floor to change an overwhelmingly poopy cloth diaper of an overly active and very sleepy toddler with a serious shortage of baby wipes but ample supply of paper hand towels only to realize that the toilet is clogged by the contents of the aformentioned without a plunger on hand and no response from papa after sending an urgent "HELP" text to learn that his phone has died and he is knocking at the door wondering if everything is okay because the two of you have been in there for so long.

And then looking deep into those big blue eyes and instantly forgetting the drama.

The Joy of Pulling Weeds

I always thought my mom was a little crazy- okay, a lot crazy. If you had awoken by chance at 4 in the morning, you would find her outside contentedly with a cup of coffee while sitting on the ground with a large pile of weeds next to her. Who, in their right mind, would find such joy in pulling weeds? Nevermind the fact that the sun itself has barely risen?!?

Now that baby J is 19 months old and into (literally) everything, I have either gone crazy or found my mom's key to sanity. There is very little satisfaction in cleaning the house when you have little ones. As soon as a project is completed, a typhoon mysteriously appears in another place. So, I have given up trying to attain a neat home and settled for the fact that it is messy, yet clean.

The garden, however, is another story. The amazing thing about weeds, is that once you've pulled them, you can satisfactorily gaze upon your hard work and feel a deep sense of accomplishment. The next day, a few might have reappeared, but with a simple bend of the waist, it's gone!

As spring is making its grand entrance this year, it has opened my eyes to a whole new world. I now see that it is a splendid opportunity to become immersed in nature and feel the sense of accomplishment that is often missing in a mommie's mundane life.

Thank you mom for passing along this secret sanity that you possess.

Why we need to eat fruit...

http://www.princeton.edu/main/news/archive/S26/91/22K07/
With so much publicity about high fructose corn syrup, I was curious about the facts. If baby J can get all his servings of fruits and vegetables from juice, why not? Especially considering that fresh fruits and veggies contain fructose naturally (we can't eat too many of those, right?).

So I asked the doctor. The explanation was surprisingly simple. Here are the facts.

Fruits and vegetables contain fructose. True. They contain the same amount that you'd get by consuming a serving of them in any other form. The difference is that in their whole form, they are high in fiber. This is important because fructose is digested differently than other things. It is digested in the colon. For proper digestion, the fiber must push the fructose past the stomach and into the colon. Without the huge amounts of fiber, it isn't digested properly.

And undigested sugar and fructose becomes....

.... fat!

This is how a lack of fiber contributes greatly to obesity. And childhood obesity isn't a joke. Juice is a fun treat, as are other things containing fructose, but are never a healthy replacement for their substitutes.

This is yet another reason why we need to be grateful for the natural supplements our Grand Creator gave us. Enjoy an apple today. (BTW- studies indicate that eating a whole 200 calorie apple 20 minutes prior to a meal will cut the number of calories significantly during that meal).

Read more about the research being done at Princeton University.

My little garden helper...

                                                                  There were leaves

                                                     to rake,

dirt to shovel,                                                           

                                                                 and rocks to move. 

But the result is always worth the hard work.

We are going to have a

lovely spring together.

Blah blah blah log

My own mom called me yesterday. She had a confession. She confessed to me that she has an addiction, one that she has not been able to satisfy for 16 days (17 days today). She is a junkie of my blog. And everyday she logs onto her computer to check for updates. Well, before she brought it to my attention, I hadn't even realized that I haven't blogged in that long. And she is having serious withdrawal.

Being so far from family and friends, I forget that my daily routine can be kind of exciting. That the new little things that the little man does are new. But, sometimes I just get tired of hearing myself talk. While thinking about this, I came to the conclusion that "blog" is actually a combination of the words blah blah blah and log. Nonetheless, I will try with due diligence to blah blah log more frequently.

Here goes....

... thinking to myself... What to talk about? Oh, baby J (can anyone think of a better nickname for my little man? He isn't really a baby anymore, but toddler J sounds strange. And I am already acquainted with another blogger who calls her little guy "the toddler". Suggestions would be appreciated.)

Where was I? Oh, baby J and a friend of ours, Tony, were sitting together reading a book last Monday. Tony did the reading and baby J turned the pages. After papa and Tony left for work, I overheard baby J talking in his bedroom. Granted, he doesn't say many words yet, but he says a lot. When I peeked in on him, there he sat on the floor with a book on his lap. He was turning the pages and pointing at the words. As he was pointing, he was saying "this this that this this that this this that". I'm so glad that I have an avid reader already!

Attention All Mommies; I'm Calling a Truce

As children, we are always eager to do our best and gain acceptance and approval. When we become teenagers, while we pretend that we want to be individuals and thrive on excelling, it is the security of genuine love that gives us strength. While single, young adults, we have no one to think of but ourselves and feel lost. Then we marry, have babies, and sacrifice much of what we are to offer our sprouting young ones the best.

With this in mind, it is no wonder that we dote, spoil, and place these little replicas of ourselves on pedestals.

Since the birth of our little replica, I've noticed a pattern. I love him more than I ever imagined I could love someone. I know that all mommies and daddies empathize. With all these factors in mind, a competition seems to ensue.

And so, I'm calling a truce. Whether you breastfeed, bottle feed, formula feed, work outside the home, work at home, stay at home, co-sleep or don't. If you have a child who is off the charts, average, below average, silly looking, a Gerber baby, looks like the wrong gender, eats Play-Doh, has shaggy hair, or no hair at all, this is to your advantage.

Let's all just be happy for each other. No more snide remarks or comparisons. Let's all remember that we are in the same boat. We all want our children to grow into loved, well-rounded adults. So, if someone offers uninvited advice, please smile say thank you. Because they're just trying to help.

Happy Truce Day! May we all enjoy these precios moments of child-rearing which will pass much too quickly.

Snow Days Are Fun!

For toddlers, snow days aren't nearly as exciting as for older kids. All they know is that they're housebound. Since papa had a job in Mount Prospect, he offered to let us tag along. This may not sound like much fun to most, but we knew what he intended. So, we headed in the general direction of the job and stopped at the big blue and yellow building along the way. Ikea on a snow day is a perfect solution for mommies and babies. We ate lunch; then papa headed to work. Baby J and I went to Smaland to play in the blueberry ball basket. What fun! Before long, it was time to head out. I fed him his snack, packed him up in the truck, and shortly afterwards, the tuckered out tot was asleep.

Hope eveyone else is enjoying their snow day!

PS- My hubby says hola to all!

You might be a sleepy mommie if...

... You've already been awake for several hours and it's only 6 am.
... You've purchased a freezer, gone grocery shopping, and decided which suit on Overstock to buy your husband and the sun has just risen.
... You're awake so early that you now require "second breakfast"
... The morning is the most productive time of the day for you.
... 8 am is naptime.
... You rise earlier than the sun.
... You know people you can call before 8 am but not after 8 pm.
... You want to nap when the baby does.
... You want to nap when the baby does but have to reassemblethe house after Hurricane [insert child's name here].
... You're eyes are growing droopy because this is the closest thing to a grown-up book that you've read in months/years.

I know it's Superbowl Sunday, but make sure to take some mommie time with a warm bath and glass of wine.