Goodbyes

Lately we've been having a lot of them. First Stella left for the winter last month. Jacob is still asking why she had to leave and when will she be back? I think he's finally accepted it, even though he might not understand. He likes to talk about how she'll come back when the snow melts (what snow, right? We haven't had any here yet). Jacob also likes to talk about how we'll be able to go back to the little amusement park we go to when the snow melts. We'll be able to go back to camp when the snow melts too...geeze, a lot of things in our life revolve around 'when the snow melts'.

While these 'seasonal' goodbyes are temporary, there are others which are not. Last week we said goodbye to our friends Idona, Mark, Maya and Ian. Maya is four and a very good friend of Jacob's. Even though we knew when we met them 2 1/2 years ago that they weren't here for good, we got attached. I started preparing Jacob a few weeks before the actual goodbye part, but I don't know who it was harder for, me or him. I guess moving across the country is just such a foreign concept to me because I've lived in the same town my whole life.

When we were at Idona's a couple weeks ago helping out whatever way we could with the packing process, I overheard Jacob ask in a sad little voice, "Why do you has to leave, Maya?" She answered back and they had a whole little conversation about it completely independent of me. It was heartwrenching.

We're also on borrowed time with Danielle and her kids. Bella is probably Jacob's best friend, and we've enjoyed watching the kids go through the stages of development side-by-side. Just in the past few months they've really been playing together a lot; quite well, I might add. It's nice to have friends you feel so 'at-home' with, but sad that soon it will be a long-distance sort of friendship because Home to them is someplace other than here.

Soon Kevin will be off to get his PhD somewhere far away from here so he can become a famous autism specialist. We've just gotten back in close touch this year. Bonding and intellectualizing over late-night phone calls will still be possible, but no more visits in Keene. Not that I see him that much now, but it's just nice to know your friends are near, living their lives in familiar places and an impromptu day trip is never out of the question.

Nevermind my high level of attachment which makes goodbyes incredibly difficult, throw in the fact that Jacob has also grown close to these people, and I find the bittersweetness almost unbearable. I am sad for him because I know he's not going to remember most of this stuff that is his life right now. He'll be older and will have almost no recollection of any of these parts of his life. Jacob has this amazing level of understanding now and has become so aware and really cares about stuff, and it kills me that his three-year-old self is going to be lost to the world soon.

I think of what I remember from when my father died, and it's not much. I was three times Jacob's age when it happened, and I can't even come up with a three dimensional impression of my dad. I feel like a traitor that I have let that hugely important time in my life slip through my fingers like a handful of sand.

Up until now Jacob's entire existence has taken place under the umbrella of my being. Now he's beginning to exhibit his free will and it is so unmooring to be on the outside of this process. He is a little person who has opinions, talks to people, makes up stories - who can no longer be completely soothed by my meager attempts at explaining the world. Soon he'll begin to work out his own answers. I wonder if, like me, he'll see each beginning as a goodbye waiting to happen.

Phhhhuuuooouuuu.

That's the sound of me finally decompressing from the hoiday blur...although I'm not really married to the spelling. But boy have I gotten lazy. When I first started writing this blog, it was my place to come to be lazy. Now I have even become lazy about keeping up with writing. As my pace slows and my activity level decreases, my definition of 'work' continually morphs. Now keeping up with the blog world is becoming almost a chore to me, and that's a shame because I think this public writing thing was actually a big factor in my slowing-down. It helps me see things from a different perspective, so that when I say I'm going to do something, I am more committed to doing it simply because it's in writing.

Speaking of holding myself to certain obligations, I am giving myself the task of cleaning the slate (to an extent) before this year is out. Most resolutions are focused on what you say you are going to aim for in the new year, but I have always thought that is a little too easy. You say you're going to do something big in the new year, but then you get caught up with it actually being the new year, but that's ok because you've really got the whole year to do it, but then by March it has been forgotten. So I'm going with less than a week left and giving myself some little tasks to complete for the sake of my sanity.

1) I keep a little dry-erase board on the fridge for my always-changing to-do list. Well, it seems dry-erase markers are not so temporary; in the actual dusty-residue sense, as well as in the sense that once they get written on there they seem destined to never leave the board. I have the names of three women friends, a couple of them mom friends and one them a friend from college I have lost touch with. The first two will be difficult because I am the slacker in this case, and it's not that I don't want to get in touch with them, it's that in doing so I will have to admit that yes, it has been four months since I said I would call (and that is not me, I am a follow-through-er). The third will be hard because I don't think I have an actual current way of contacting this person. My task is to get these names wiped off that board.

2) I will start working out again. This one is very hard to admit. I have been a sloth for over a month now. That is not me. I am uncomfortable not working out. B.C. (before child) I used to be big into lifting weights, getting my body fat tested, reading Muscle & Fitness for Her, showing off my ability to do 50 (real) pushups (and I will get back there - the closest I came was in September when I maxed out at 43, so close). Anyway, there was just too much going on toward the approach of the holidays and I just had to let it go for a while because I was spending more time than I could afford saying "OK, today I am going to work out, and then I will get started on the day," or staying up too late thinking I would exercise after Jacob went to bed.

3) I will file all my file-things that are stacked in that cardboard box into their appropriate file folders. I'm usually good at keeping up with filing because I generally enjoy being organized, but I just have not had the time. For maybe three months now they've been going into that box instead, and that's after spending a week accumulating on a step halfway up the staircase.

4) This last one is probably more ambiguous, but I've got to give myself some elbow room somewhere. I will make it so all the residuals of Christmas have been fully (& appropriately) absorbed into the house (or moved out of the house completely), and that includes a lot of the non-related paper clutter laying around the house.

This last one reminds me - Note to self: Remember next year to send out an e-mail to all family members emphasizing the One Gift Rule before they have bought seven gifts already so they don't have that excuse going for them.

I guess when I say 'please only get Jacob one gift' they read between the lines and think I am giving them the option to get him anywhere between one and, say, 14 gifts. It's more than just about the fact that we don't have room for all this stuff, it's about wanting Jacob to grow up not taking his possessions for granted, not being spoiled. Is that not my choice as his mother to enact this rule?? And to those of you who abided by this rule, you know who you are, Thank You.

Have a happy new year!

The Home Stretch

Tomorrow begins the marathon of Christmas gatherings. It will be a three-day extravaganza, like it is every year. We just have so much family that it takes that long to make the rounds. I am in no way complaining about this.

Today was the day of the three-hour spasm where upon all the stress of the season came flowing out of me and piled atop those loved ones of mine who were unlucky enough to be near me at the time. Something finally clicked and just like that I was over it. I think I was running low on seretonin and it just took that long for the backup supply to make its way across my neurotransmitters, if that makes any sense.

With all of that out of the way, Zach and I made our last trip to the mall. We still are not done with our shopping but we will not be going back. I have to pick up one last thing from Target tomorrow, so it looks like that's where your present will be coming from, Mom. Sorry. I'll be sure to save the reciept. After that all we have to do is go to the grocery store. Doesn't sound like a big deal, but just you wait. The grocery store on a Sunday morning is not the best place to be if you want to keep your sanity intact, nevermind the fact that it'll be Christmas eve.

We decorated our tree last night, which was fun. It's up high on a table, but Mango has already managed to chew one of the ornaments. I made sure to put the special ones near the top..


Remember the guy at the picture maker the other day? I was so frustrated that I had waited in line for 30 minutes with no means to be productive. Later that same day I had to make a mad rush to the post office and got there just seconds after they closed. So I headed out to the one post office in the area that stays open til 8pm, which is at the mall. I was prepared this time with some light reading, a snack to keep Jacob happy, plenty of kleenex for his runny nose, a waterbottle, and a backup activity for Jacob. What's the boy scout motto? Yeah, that's me. I waited in line for about 20 minutes, just as happy as a clam. But everyone else in line was bitching away. Jacob was totally cool with the wait. If you're going to be at the post office in the late evening on probably the last day you can mail things for a pre-Christmas arrival, then expect to wait. And shut the hell up.

The best part of those couple days was that after the post office we went into the mall and I took Jacob to see Santa. We hadn't expected this to be in the cards for us because Jacob's usually scared of stuff like that. Infact, last week at the mall Zach and I both asked Jacob if he wanted to see Santa. He said no and we thought that was that, but on the way out of the mall we passed the then-closed Santa's Village and Jacob got excited about it. So, having promised a visit to Santa, we made it a priority on Wednesday. Jacob waited patiently in line for at least 20 minutes and was more cute than I could have imagined talking to 'Santa'. He had an actual conversation with the jolly man. At first I tried hard to hear it, but then started to feel like a bit of an intruder so I backed off and let Jacob have his private moment.

The Public Side of Christmas

Here I sit at the desk with my computer - yes, I have recently taken to sitting in more appropriate places to do my typing (one too many neck cricks) - with the Christmas music on and the glow of the tree lighting my notes. That's right, the Christmas tree. When I got home from work all the people in my house were awake and somewhat conscious so I insisted that it be done right away. It actually took two more hours to be enacted. Jacob was asleep by then so Zach and I reasoned that it would be a nice surprise for him in the morning. We're crossing our fingers that he's not pissed he missed out on helping to move the tree into the house. I'm actually pretty confident that he'll just be happy his parents finally came through for him. We;re just doing lights now and Jacob can help decorate tomorrow. We had a box of lights from my mom's so there were lots of colors to choose from. We went with 'gold' (orange) - not sure why. It was the color that I always thought was so ugly on the tree when I was growing up, but tonight it just felt right. OK, I just took a picture from my phone. Soon I will get a digital camera and I won't have to choose between quality or instant gratification.

Oh, so last week I got my glasses re-fixed. I stopped in at a jewelry repair shop on a whim. 20 minutes and $12 later I walked out with my repaired glasses. Remember the nose piece fell off the same night they were stepped on, then later formed back into shape at the glasses place? So that same place told me I would need new frames (also meaning new lenses since they no longer make the frames I have) when I went back a couple days after the first repair job. I waited til my next appointment for contacts to see what those guys said. They agreed they could be repaired but said the soddering would be $56. But then the nice old Russian man at the jewelry shop came through for only $12. Woohoo!

Back to Christmas: All kinds of people come out of the woodwork when it's the hoiday season. Generally I prefer kind people like the man at Dunkin Donuts a couple weeks ago who told me to really appreciate Jacob when he's young. He talked about his grown sons and said nice things about me and Jakie. I live for instances like this, when you get to connect with other people on a genuine level even though you are strangers to each other. Sometimes I just get really annoyed though, like the trip to the mall I wrote about with Zach and Jacob a week and a half ago. I came around the corner where they were waiting for me and a really annoying sales lady was talking away at Jacob. I shouldn't have been so rude, but this lady did NOT know when to go away. She was going on and on to Jacob about Santa and all things related. I totally cut her off after a minute and just blurted out that Jacob doesn't know who Santa is or something dumb like that. She stopped mid-sentence and walked away. Zach was pissed at me for acting like that because I think at that point I hadn't worn him down yet about the Santa thing. Even though I had totally saved him from the over-zealous mall employee (who he hated possibly more than me), his defenses were up and the Santa comment hit home. But seriously, it really, really pisses me off that people see a kid at Christmas and start going off about Santa. What if we were Jewish - or celebrate one of the many other holidays associated with this time of year? I almost wish I was Jewish so I could go around spouting this to people from my high horse.

Here's what I'm hoping we come to agree on: Santa exists, but he's not sneaking in at night to bring us gifts. He can embody whatever kind of Christmas virtue, but his presence in our lives will not be associated with presents. I want there to be some kind of magic for Jacob, and I want that magic to involve the goodness of the human spirit, not goods from the toy store. Everytime we approach the annoying jingle of the Salvation Army collection bucket I hand Jacob some change and prep him on what to do. The other day we donated money to the Make-A-Wish foundation and got to take our paper angel home. I always talk to Jacob about what we're doing and why. I try to impress upon him how lucky we are to be living the life we have so that he won't take it for granted. I generally try to live my life embodying the Christmas spirit every day. I don't think we need to have a season for giving, it should take place each moment of our lives.

I think it is kind of ironic that in this 'season of joy' I witness more road rage than any other time of year. Yesterday I was rounding a corner after stopping at the red light when I saw two cars pull over and middle-age men jump out of them, the one in front immediatly shouting at the other guy, "What the hell are you doing *bleep bleep*! You're supposed to stop at a red light, you *bleep bleep*" Seriously, was this necessary? Could he maybe have given the guy in back half a second to say sorry or something, to explain himself before jumping down his throat? Maybe the poor guy was having a seizure or heart attack or something and lost control on his pedals.

Last year in the post office parking lot I pulled into a spot and started to get Jacob out of the car when this lady approached me and started screaming obscenities into my face. Apparently I 'took her parking spot', but I don't know how. I believe she had been in front of me, her car sitting off to the side. I remember noticing her car before I pulled into the spot but it looked like she was pulling out of the lot because she was at least 4 cars lengths ahead and it is a ONE-WAY parking lot, so how was she going to get into that spot even if I wasn't there?

There I was standing in the cold with a two year-old in my arms and this freak is dropping the f-bomb every-other word because she had to park 15 feet further away. Then she stormed away without even giving me a chance to respond. Are you freaking kidding me? What the hell kind of a person does this? I lasted til she was out of ear shot and then burst into tears because I just cannot take that kind of hatred from people. Hehe, I remember I had on my infamous hat which somewhat shielded my tears (I was not going to give her the satisfaction of leaving) so I went about business as usual and got my post office stuff taken care of. The lady had to finish parking before going inside so she had to wait in line behind me for 10 minutes. I don't know how she could have not felt too ashamed to show her face in there. When I was done at the counter I turned around and spoke my little speech (kill them with kindness my mom would advise) that I'd been rehearsing the whole time in line. She couldn't get away then, and there was a whole line of people who got to hear what an ass she was. I said something like, "I hope whatever it is that put you in such a bad mood that you had to harass a mother with a small child, doesn't ruin your holiday." Then I went out to my car and cried my way home and then cried more. I am just so sensitive like that. I can't let things roll off my back.

At the very least these experiences make for good stories. For instance, the lady at Target the other day who was talking loudly on her cell phone. I really, really hate when people talk on their cell phones in public like that. If it is quietly, or you have no other choice, and it's only going to be for a minute, ok. But if you are just carrying on a conversation, going about your shopping business, come on. I've always wished I could work up enough courage to start taking part in the conversations...you know how you read about people chiming in with little comments about someone else's phone conversation to get their message across. Well when this lady got off the phone she was not happy, and I happened to be the closest person standing near her. She came right up to me and started whining about how her daughter's husband just left her, I mean she was intending to tell me the whole story. I'm still not sure if she had mistakenly taken me for someone she knows. I wanted to tell her that if her daughter is anything like her then I don't blame the husband one bit.

Also in Target was the line to use the picture maker. There's two of them, but only one scans photographs. They both work off of cd's. There was a guy using the one that scans pictures, but he had a cd. I waited behind him for 30 minutes, with another guy waiting behind me because he had to scan a picture too. The other picture maker was empty. This guy doing his pictures even turned around to me at one point and asked if I couldn't just use the other printer. I told him no and why. He stayed at his picture maker. He must have done about 20 pictures and actually asked me to help him with something he was doing. I finally asked him how many more he had to do (my polite way of suggesting that maybe he move to the other printer). I had a very small window of opportunity in which I was child-free and I wasted it in line. They need to enact a time limit when there are other people waiting, or start scheduling appointments for use. I left after 30 minutes, but decided that today would be different. I walked into the store with two bags - one for activities and one containing Jacob's lunch - and arrived at a line-less photo center. Go figure. I did my stuff and exited five minutes later with both my bags and no purchases. I probably looked like a shoplifter, or crazy, or both.

So these are the things that come to mind when I think of the holiday season: A jaded mix of crowds, annoyances, small gifts of charity, brotherly hatred, kindness in surprising places, irony, and a tiny, funny-looking tree with the potential of the world balled up in its confined roots.

Developments (and a couple non-developments)

I can't quite remember where I left off on several different topics, so this'll be a little smorgasbord of catching up.

First off, our tree: It is on the front porch. I am not allowed to call it that though because it's really just some steps and a landing, which to Jacob is not a porch because it's a different kind than the enclosed one that used to be off the back of the house. I'll 'mistakenly' say front porch and Jacob will get mad and retort that our porch is knocked down. "Where did it go?" you'll ask. "In the dumpster," you'll get back. So we've taken to calling it the front stoop, which sounds a little too 'inner city' for my liking, but oh well. We keep saying, "Tomorrow we will definitely bring the tree in and decorate it," but that hasn't happened yet. The other option is at least putting the lights on it while it's still outside and then bringing it in later on. Again, Jacob has been begging for us to decorate it already. The thing is we've been advised that we can only have it in the house for three days, as it will begin to lose dormancy (ie, die when we try to plant it) after that point. We think 5 days will be safe though.

Another reason that the tree isn't in the house yet is that we've just been so busy. Zach has been going non-stop between being at work, being here to supervise what's going on with the excavating (not that they need supervising, but he's so fascinated by all things concerning home improvement) - sometimes back and forth to work and back here several times in one day (good thing we live a stone's throw away from the college) - working on the parts of the addition he is doing himself, and his on-the-side paint job. When he gets busy I have to pick up the slack with the animals and Jacob, plus I just realized the other day that Christmas was a week away so I've got to catch up in that department too. Over the weekend Zach and a few of his friends spent both days getting the frame, walls, roof and windows of the addtition done. It's an actual room now!

However, the upstairs bathroom is still nowhere near being done, which means the downstairs bathroom cannot be obliterated yet. This means that the hallway which will link the rest of the house to the addition doesn't exist yet. So it's just out there, in the middle stage of existence, teasing me with its almost-roomness. The basement is the same story. There is new basement down there, on the other side of the cement wall, just waiting for a hole to be cut so that it can absorb the overflow of our belongings that are spilling from the stacked piles and safely contain them in its netherparts.

While all the work was being done, Jacob and I mostly stayed around here, watching and waiting. We were lazy about the whole production. Jacob never even asked to go out and help. Could it be that he is really just getting sick of all this construction? Perhaps, because each day this week he's been playing with some new toy or possession of his that had promptly been forgotten at the start of the construction. We actually watched Cars a couple times as I had rented it upon Jacob's request. Lately every little thing on TV or even in kids' videos has been scaring him. Things that I wouldn't have even predicted being scary to him are off limits. But the movie was ok. When something happened where music came on that you would normally associate with a high-tension situation, Jacob would turn to me, anticipating my censorship and say, "It's o-tay, I can watch this part." He was a little sad at times during the movie. He would say things like, "I hope they're ok. I hope they find each other." or, "He's sad the other guy isn't there." I tend to really read into comments like this, and I guess it's a combination of my education in psychology and just who I am. I'm always assuming he's projecting his feelings onto the movies. That's why it freaked me out last week when we were watching a (supposedly very nice and calming) nature video and Jacob burst into tears every time he couldn't see a mommy and baby together. What is Jacob saying about his life, or the way he thinks when he reads random situations the way he does?

We spent a lot of time at my mom's on Monday and Tuesday because of the no-water situation here. I had to make six dozen molasses cookies to bake for the cookie exchange with my moms' club on Tuesday. Jacob and I were there in the kitchen when I saw a squirrel coming closer to us on the railing of the deck. I grabbed Jacob and told him not to move or make noise. We stood at the window and I whispered, "I'll bet he comes right up to us to say hi." And he did just that...inched closer and closer until his nose was almost touching the glass, stared at us smiling back at him for about five seconds and then tramped away. It was my favorite moment of the day. We put peanuts on the deck for him to have next time he came back and talked about how much we like squirrels. Jacob really likes squirrels, and they're probably one of the only creatures he hasn't made up a horror story about ("There was a lion in the road and he was (insert something undesirable)" or, "The owl's gonna come in and get me!"). I think it's funny because for some reason I really like squirrels too. They're not a typical kind of animal that you would normally identify with, but I've always seemed to feel particulary close to them.

Well, there's been a lot more going on but I've got to start getting ready for work tonight. I'm frustrated that I can't just sit here and finish writing about what's on my mind, but during times like this when we are busy up to our eyeballs, I realize that something's gotta give. Zach had to let go of the idea that he was going to finish this painting job before Christmas, I've had to sacrifice computer time (as well as half my sleeping hours), and we've had to rely on the grandparents this week more than we would like to. Christmas will be over soon (I can't wait) and it will all even out in the universe's own, strange way.

This is us decorating gingerbread
houses with our little friends last week.

Christmas Spirit

Well, here it is a week away from Christmas and I find I've not yet lost my head. The shopping is a little more than half done, but I'm not really stressing about it. I probably should be. I've sort of just been fitting it into my regular errands so that I don't really have a lot of extra, or special trips to a lot of different places. Those regular errands just end up taking longer, mostly because of all the annoying people who are part of the Christmas rush (of which I don't identify with because, remember, I am just doing my usual day-to-day shopping).

Jacob and I have been making some holiday crafts out of our very own 're-usable' materials. I'm a notorious wrapping paper saver. Blame my mother, but I take my damn time opening those gifts because you can be sure I'm re-using that paper on your next birthday gift. But hey, I've never had to spend money on wrapping paper. You should see the Advent calendar we made out of only five materials/tools: Old cardboard, used wrapping paper, stickers, glue and scissors. If you send me a Christmas card, you may very well get it (or someone else's) back the next year, just the cover, with a cute picture glued onto the back and decorated by a small child, holes punched in the corners and tied with the ribbon (wrinkles steamed out over boiling water) that probably came atop a baby shower gift 3 1/2 years ago. You can hang it on your Christmas tree!

Speaking of which, we got ours last week. We found a place that sells them with the root ball attached. They were $60 originally, but luckily for us we're such procrastinators that they were already 25% off by the time we got there. We debated for way too many days, each one of which Jacob begged several times for us to get a tree already so we could decorate it. On Monday I scoped out a Norfolk pine at Price Chopper (of all places) when no one else in town had any to sell. I made Zach go back there with me at night so we could just go ahead and get the ugly thing that someone advised we might pass off as a Christmas tree. It'll be our first so Jacob wouldn't have cared. But I really want Zach to be happy with our tree because for the most part we're doing the Santa thing my way (which is that, "Sure he exists, but he's not going to break into our house at night and leave coal if you're bad"), and for a fleeting moment a visual flashed before my eyes of the picture of our tree, here, on this blog, and it looked so pitiful. We were lifting it off the platform, the deal was 90% sealed, and we both hesitated. The only thing after that keeping us from just walking out was that Jacob wanted it so badly. He didn't care what the hell it looked like, all that mattered was that we were together, and that is truly the Christmas spirit.

Eventually we had to leave because I pointed out that we were standing in the middle of the produce section of a grocery store, staring at ugly little trees. I imagined employees lined up around the security monitor putting money in a sack, betting on whether we were going to leave with a tree or not. I resolved that tomorrow would be THE DAY.

The next day we made it to the nursery with five minutes left before closing. And as I stood there, half listening to the lady deliver strict instructions on how to plant the three-foot tree we were spending an absurd amount of money on, I got an outsider's view of the scene layed out before me; my boys all scraggly and in their matching Carhartts, one with his assured look, the other a gleam of admiration in his eyes. I could have stayed in that moment forever.

Picture This:

You're on a main road at 11pm and you happen to glance at one of the little houses set back from the road. It's devoid of Christmas lights, but there is a scraggly looking thing on the porch that maybe could serve to add some holiday cheer to the place. You turn the other way to glimpse the house across the street that is aglow with festive warmth, but then your neck snaps back in the direction of the little house again because you see something of note. What caused the double-take? Why it's the naked toosh of a skinny little thing, no more than three years old, with his pants at his ankles. And there is a similar looking man (with pants) standing in the same position next to the boy. "Must be some kind of strange punishment?" you question aloud with your eyebrows raised.

Please don't call social services just yet; hear me out. We live on a tiny strip of the road that is between the town water lines in one direction and the town water lines going in the opposite direction. Thus, we have well water. This is ok, Zach and I were both raised on well water, and to hear that familiar hum, ahem, jarring roar of the water pump, well that just takes us back to childhood. But we also have a sucky pump and/or system, I don't really know the details, I'm just the woman of the house who often gets left in the dark about these 'manly' concerns. But I won't get started on that. So, for as long as we have lived here, we've had to budget our water. We sometimes run out of water...again, not clear on how that is possible when the water table in the ground is clearly a-ok. All I know is you turn on the tap and nothing happens. Showers are ok, but we can't really take back-to-back showers. Laundry can be done on a one-load/day schedule. I'm usually able to use the dishwasher a couple times a week as needed, but only overnight when we aren't using any other water, and only if laundry hasn't been done in the last few hours.

This is all ok with me. I don't really complain about it, I just like pointing out a lot that we don't take our water for granted. And I don't think anyone should. There are a lot of things I do simply because I don't ever want to take any form of technology for granted, or the fact that I have use of all the parts of my body needed to operate said technology. I try to use the manual doors when entering a building instead of their automatic neighbors just a couple feet away. The same goes for stairs vs. elevators. If I must take an escalator I feel awful silly just standing there being carried to the top like the Jetsons. Even though it means you look like you're going at hyper-speed, I prefer to walk the moving stairs just because that feels more natural to me. You see, I don't want to just get something for nothing. I don't know what my point is - do I like to make a show of it to make the other people feel lazy? Not sure, but I do think I like to make a statement, like maybe someone will see me reaching for the handle of the door and will think to themselves, "Oh yeah, I forgot about those kind of doors." I also feel it's like exercising a muscle - this has a lot to do with me being paranoid that someday there will be a total collapse of all computer systems (I don't care what you say Pegeen, it could happen) - sort of like how kids today don't even know how to add in their heads because we've got calculators for that. Or the fact that when my 6 year-old nephew was accidentally left home alone last year, he didn't know how to call for help because the cordless phone was missing and he'd never needed to use the rotary phone before so he simply couldn't figure it out. Or how about everytime I take a picture, all the two and three year-olds rush around to look over my shoulder, shouting that they 'wanna see'. "It's not digital," I try to explain to their blank faces.

I like being old-fashioned, and that is why I am having a little too much fun living in the 19th century for just one night. How did we skip back in time over 100 years? Well, our water pump finally crapped out on Friday (just part of the day that I am hoping Zach lets me write about tomorrow). Lucky for us, the exact people we need for this job have already been frequenting our house on a daily basis. For the course of the weekend we could use the water, but only in small amounts (think two inch bath for Jacob), and we would have to run down to the basement to turn the pump and water line back on, then turning them off again when we were done using the water. All the larger water needs (showers, laundry) have been attended to at my mom's house. Today the hole was dug out and work began on the new pipes/water system. The water's been off since this morning, and we don't know when we'll be able to use it again, hopefully tomorrow at some point. So we've got all kinds of jugs of water that were procured from other peoples' homes and we're making do with that.

To answer your question, yes, Jacob was peeing on our side lawn, and Zach would kill me if I told you he was doing the same. So I won't tell you. I was hoping to have a picture (back view only) of the side-by-side action, but my husband quickly nixed that idea. So, instead of a picture, these thousand words will have to do!

A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words

I am way too tired to write about anything now, so here are some pictures so you can follow the progress. I still have to write about how we finally got our tree. Hopefully I'll get to that tomorrow!

A Note to Husbands

In my opinion the single best thing you can do for your marriage is to apologize to your wife when you have done something wrong. This next part is very important: You must do it before she tells you to! And definitely before saying something stupid that's going to make the situation even worse. Heck, you might as well apologize even if you don't think you did anything wrong, because chances are her endruance for arguing is much longer than yours so you're not going to win. Oh, and never, ever call your wife a Nazi. That's just like committing suicide.

Where Was I?

Ahh...right, being taken over to the dark side. So it seems I have been converted by the men in my house. I actually asked, begged, Zach to go to the hardware store with me on Sunday.

This is how it happened: On Saturday afternoon Zach took Jacob to a college basketball game and I had two hours to myself. The first thing I did was go to the hardware store just down the road because I had a coupon for $10 off at True Value. This year we are going to get each other gifts; we figured Jacob would like to have something for each of us. We don't normally get each other gifts because we're so low-key about birthdays and Christmas. My plan was to get something Carthartt ('work' clothes) for Zach because he's obsessed with Carthartt clothes. He's always going there and getting something new that he doesn't need and I'm always yelling at him about it. Well we already have one little cute pair of Carhartt work pants for Jacob, and I know there's other kids' stuff too, but I wasn't prepared for the cuteness of it all. There were these little blue overalls that I decided Jacob just had to have but there weren't any in his size. I ended up leaving there with a few things, including matching hats for the boys because there was a sale on Carthartt just Saturday-Sunday.

I spent way too long in the hardware store just mental shopping and admiring all the tools. While I was perusing the aisles I heard a woman say to the guy she was with, "C'mon, I don't want to spend 4 hours in the hardware store!" I was suddenly struck with the reality of what I was doing. That lady had been me 3 1/2 years ago when I was pregnant with Jacob and we were moving into our house. And now I was there, by choice, using up most of my 2 hours of freedom in True Value! I guess that's what 3 years of being exposed to man stuff can do to a girl.

Later on I told Zach where I had been and that there was a sale on Carthartt and that we just had to go to the other True Value the next day to see if they had the overalls in Jacob's size, and since we had to spend a certain amount to benefit from the sale he should probably get something too. Zach probably thought he was either dreaming, or that I was testing him. When I got out of work on Sunday we met up at the other True Value and shopped away. I actually had a lot of fun hanging out there with Zach and Jacob. Welcome to the 'dark side'.

After True Value we went on to the mall for a little Christmas shopping. We have a couple big malls in the area, and the one that is the smaller of the two has recently been undergoing some renovations. It looks really nice inside now. They even have a new play area in the middle of the mall for the kids. I don't know if I wrote about it here when I first discovered the play area, but I do know I e-mailed my entire moms' group to rave about it. I'd heard of malls that had play areas like that, but had never actually been to one. And now we have one here! Woohoo! Well this trip to the mall I discovered something else new. There is now a family room right next to the rest rooms. I've seen family restrooms before, but this place gives a whole new meaning to the word restroom. It is an actual room with carpeting and everything. There are three wicked comfy gliders, with matching ottomans, a kid-sized wooden table with chairs that actually has three different puzzles on it, and a nice changing table (an actual table, not the plastic thing that folds out of the wall). And off of that room is the private bathroom so there's no need to hurry out of the family room incase other people are waiting. This is just the coolest thing to me. I was going on and on about it to Zach for at least 10 minutes. I even made him come back with me just to look at it. And I have to give him his due credit in saying that, without complaint or visible eye-rolling, he followed me back to indulge my family room high.

Oh, on the way to the mall Jacob told us this story: "Bob's Home Depot ran out of presents. I have to knock it down because it's crappy now. The planks are messed up." Where does he get this stuff?!

Later on I was waiting in line for something so Zach took Jacob out to the cozy new chairs in the center of the mall. I found them a few minutes later in the middle of a hilarious scene. If you could pick one moment to perfectly illustrate the American holiday season, this would be it: As I said, they've got these nice chairs to relax in, and they're placed in a semi-circle around a big TV. As I took my time approaching, the scene became apparent to me. There were half a dozen middle-aged men slumped in the chairs with tired, sour looks on their faces, which were mostly set atop the open palm of a hand, with their cheeks all smooshed up, eyes set on the TV. From the heaps at their feet, one could tell these men were clearly the 'bag carriers'; aka: Husbands. My guys looked so cute sitting there on the couch, so I settled in to watch some figure skating with them and enjoy the perfect moment. It was just such a great representation of what our lives are like; we find moments of peace in totally random places and circumstances, and we couldn't be happier about it because that is just our thing. So every couple minutes I'd see they guys all perk up and get excited, like when the nurse comes into the waiting room in the doctor's office and you think, "This could be it, it might be me this time!" I think they could sense that a Wife was coming, but as soon as she came into view, all but one of the guys would be left in their misery, eyes following the lucky one who had been called back to duty.

We eventually got on with our shopping and were getting ready to leave when we ran into - guess who - my sister! That's the third time in a month or so that I have run into my sister at that mall. The third time in four trips to the mall. She was with Marisa and her fiance, so Jacob and Marisa took off on a spree around the rack of kids' movies then settled at the keyboard with microphone, jammin' out the ABC's. When those two get together things just get crazy. Zach and Ward talked sports while Nicki and I took off into the kids' clothes section and everyone got a second wind. After that and with our tolerance threshold completely expired, we finally left the mall to head home.

Friday, Saturday and Everything In Between

Friday Evy was over and we went skating with some of the moms from our moms' group. After that we headed to one of the local libraries to pick up a book I had requested. Let me just interject here to rave about the library system. I don't know if it is like this all over, but I get the sense that ours is special. There's 29 libraries in the 'system' and you can request anything you want, from any of those libraries, and they will send it to the library of your choosing just as soon as they can. All you have to do is go to the library website and request the item(s) from the comfort of your own home. Then they'll tell you when it's in and you've got 7 days to get there before they send it back. Books, movies, cd's, anything...and it's totally free - barring the oh-so-familiar late fee which I actually don't mind paying, as I often have to do. I kind of feel like I owe them something, plus it makes me feel a little safer in the knowledge that this library thing is not a dream (you know, like it's too good to be true). You'd think that I'd just made this discovery by my joy but I have known about it for a long time. I just can't get over it.

Anyway, we picked up our book and then headed into the kids' room to get a video for Jacob. We are frequent visitors to the kids room, but I had not before seen the Train Table (capitalized to emphasize the importance train tables have in our lives). I could not refuse Jacob play time with the Train Table so I settled on the floor with Evy and the snack I smuggled in for her. Partway through his play, Jacob paused to ask me, "Can we get a Train Table?"
"Maybe someday soon (I already have one and it's what he's getting for Christmas)."
"Ohh, I weally want a Train Table."
"I know you do sweetie, and I want you to be able to have one."
"Maybe Nana will get us one!"

I love how it's 'us'. One for us to share. Even though I complain a lot that we never get to do stuff as a family, I'm realizing that we really do squeeze quite a bit of family time into our busy lives. It might not be the regular kinds of things that other people do like going out to dinner, or going to the big show at the arena, but there's a lot of random, everyday things that all 3 of us do together. I guess that's what attachment parenting looks like to us; we take for granted that there are some things we just all do as a family. In the beginning it was important for me to have the label 'attachment parenting'. Now it has just morphed into 'the way we do things' and I love that that is apparent in Jacob's emerging language.

So, it's getting increasing harder for me to hold out on the Train Table. I think I'm afraid that Jacob will get to the point of wanting one so badly that he will reach the peak of that mountain of desire and then start to climb back down the other side. I especially feel that way about the dollhouse he has also been lusting over. It's great that Jacob wants this, I want to nurture that side of him before he realizes that's not the way he's 'supposed' to feel about dollhouses and the like. I think it's terrible that this natural instinct of his will soon be lost to culturization. I am looking at a catalogue that arrived by mail recently and there is a very gender neutral dollhouse on page 12. I think this could be the one, however, in the upper-right corner of the picture is this: "She'll treasure her first dollhouse forever!" And I want to strangle someone at that company instead.

So here I have conflicting values: The anti-gender radical in me wants to go out and get a dollhouse before it's too late, but the anti-consumption puritan in me says, "Nooo, one big gift at a time." What to do?

A little while longer at the train table and I started to smell the 'stench'. No, not Jacob this time, woohoo! I had not brought any diapers in for Evy because we were only going to be in and out, so we all had to get dressed back in our coats/mittens/hats and haul it out to the car for wipes and a diaper. I wanted to let Jacob play more and Evy was having a good time too so we went back in for a potty break and diaper change. Here I'll pause to rant: What had happened to the friggin 'reach in' wipes? You're not going to have any idea what this is unless you are a parent and as nit-picky as I**. You've got the wipes containers with the itty-bitty holes for the 'one-ups' (these are real words), and the 'one-ups' themselves which are stuck together but pry apart when squeezed through the hole. And you've got the regular container that is just open for which you need the kind of wipes that are not interfolded (reach-ins), right? For almost a year I have not been able to find reach-ins anywhere. All my wipes containers are for reach-ins. I'm not getting new ones because of some marketing sceme to phase out the corresponding wipes so I'll have to spend more money on new containers. Do you know what happens when you put one-ups wipes into a reach-ins container? They all come out as one long string of baby wipe. And when you are holding tight to a squirming baby on a high changing table, trying to keep your 3 year-old in the bathroom with your one foot and balancing on the other, you really just want ONE WIPE to come out of the container, not the ENTIRE package.

Later that night I was the first person in the house to get into bed. I can count on 1 hand the number of times that has happened. It was very nice for 5 minutes. Then Jacob came up, which was still nice because he was in an affable mood and willing to snuggle. The Zach came up and I am being truthful in saying that he was asleep before his head hit the pillow. For as long as I have known him he has been like this. It is like magic to me because I do not know how to sleep. For my entire life I just categorized myself as a 'difficult sleeper' because it's something that doesn't come easily to me. Now that I see Jacob going through the same thing, and I hear conflicting advice, some being that a child needs to be 'taught' to sleep, I realize I just don't know how, plain and simple. It was 11pm when we all got into bed the other night. Jacob and I did not fall asleep til 2am. I know for myself, and am starting to think is true with Jacob, I can only fall asleep if I am exhausted beyond my ability to stay awake. I think this is part of the reason why I stay up til ungodly hours on the computer. Going to bed is a painful experience because I know it's not going to yield anything; I will lay there for hours waiting for sleep to overtake me, begging it to come, when all that really happens is I think about death. That, mixed with my increasing panic about how tired I'm going to be the next day and my resentment toward Zach for being one of the 'chosen' who have been given the secret to sleep, only makes me more awake. So instead of going through that every night I just sit here at the computer and waste time til my face hits the keyboard.

Zach and I have this fight we repeat anytime Jacob needs something in the middle of the night. Jacob wants something so I kick Zach awake (I know it sounds mean but there is no volume loud enough to draw him out of the level of sleep he's in - kicking is the only thing that works) and ask him to get it. He gets all pissed off to have been woken and wants me to go get it because I'm the one who was already awake. I tell him the fact that I'm still awake is the exact reason that he should go get it. It's probably taken me half an hour to zen myself to the stage of relaxation I'm in and one quick trip downstairs is going to kill that calm. Since it is so easy for him to go back to sleep he should get it. Zach thinks I am just bull-shitting him and I just don't want to get out of bed. It has nothing to do with that, I'm being honest when I say it'll wake me up. He's the one who just doesn't want to leave the warm comfort of slumberland.

I suppose that's more than enough rambling for the night...stay tuned for tomorrow's episode which will cover how I've been taken over to the dark side by the men in my house, our trip to the mall, and most likely something about Bob.

ETA
** Or you are an extremely observant bachelor who has dated a girl with small children and taken exceptional care of said children.

A Story

I was at work this afternoon doing a birthday party, so Zach and Jacob had a few hours to themselves. Jacob is into his story telling full-force now. Bob the Builder has become like a metaphor for our lives, a mirror image of what goes on within these 4 walls - and a lot of the times on the actual road! He's known to us simply as 'Bob'. When I met up with the boys after work Zach related the following conversation to me:

"Daddy, Bob drinks Red Bull and Soda. But if he brings it home Wendy takes it away from him and says (in a voice) 'You shouldn't be drinking this!' "

It seems that Wendy is always taking things away from Bob and scolding him...you tell me the latent meaning.

I'm too tired to think of an appropriate title for this post....

Today was Jacob's 1st ever dentist visit. I took him to the place where I used to go as a kid. Actually, I was just there for the last time 3 1/2 years ago. They're technically a pediatric dentist's office, but since I was still in college they kept letting me go back to them. And I had just found out I was pregnant the last time I was there, so I knew I'd be back in a few years to show off my own child. This is something I was sort of waiting for. When I called to make the appointment the lady on the other end of the phone got all excited when I told her my name. "The Stacey ** who used to come here??" She asked like I was famous or something.

Jacob did so well in the chair. He was all relaxed and let them do their thing. He looked like a little man; I was so proud. After his visit we stayed a while to play with all the stuff in the waiting room some more. There was a TV in there with a movie playing on a continuous loop and when the music got scary sounding Jacob asked me to turn it off. I was also proud of that. There was a big sign on the TV that said not to touch it or turn it off or anything. Why do TVs in waiting rooms have to be like that? Like we don't have the choice whether or not to have the TV blaring in our faces. If it had been the waiting room of a place that I didn't already love or I was a parent opposed to TV completely, the fact that they won't let you turn it off would make me not want to go back. What's the deal with a TV in the waiting room to begin with? What ever happened to old magazines and dirty toys? Or was it dirty magazines and old toys...

We have a TV, just one, and it doesn't have cable. There are some days that it doesn't go on, and I feel like something is accomplished on those days. Jacob watches one video a day, and in rare occasions a little more than that. Zach and I have 3 shows that we like to see each week, and that's about it. I'm sure there will be phases where it will be on more than this, as there has been in the past, but right now we're just too busy. In the past TV was big part of my life and it was sick how much time was devoted to it (now I have the internet to be addicted to). I don't want that again, and don't want Jacob growing up with TV as a major part of his life. I just don't think it's fair that we not be able to remove that distraction in the waiting room. If someone else was watching it, fine, but there were 2 other people in the room, both parents and both immersed in books. Arg! I have to stop writing about it because it's just making me more annoyed. I should be focusing on the good part of the day.

Such as: The nice time we had playing at the lego table after seeing the dentist. The nice time we had at the bagel shop afterwards. Jacob ate really well (for once) and then we just kind of hung out people-watching (one of my favorite pastimes) and talked about the things we saw. It was so mellow and fun, like it used to be. Then we headed to the train store (this being the same plaza where the my eye doctor is) that is actually a toy store, but being the kid that he is all Jacob really sees is the train table, and so that's what we refer to it by. Then there was the poop, and you know what happened from there.

In other news, the broiler pan got washed yesterday morning! I woke up and it was in the drying rack. I win.

Yesterday Jacob was wearing one grey sock and one teal sock. The reason being: Why toss one perfectly good sock just because it's mate was chewed by Mango? Just wait for her to chew another sock, which is inevitable, and hope that whichever pair it is, the color at least complements the color of the first surviving mate. In addition to the funny socks, Jacob now has 3 mittens without mates, thanks to you-know-who. Couldn't she have at least chewed a mitten that already lost it's mate? I guess it's only fun for her if she's doing some actual damage. And just so I didn't feel left out, Mango chewed one of my mittens 2 days ago. Thanks Mango!

But now, instead of just tearing things apart, I think she's begun eating them whole. In the last 4 days or so several items have gone missing: The tube of Aquaphor (which upon purchasing I placed above the TV, announcing to the other members of the household that this was the only acceptable place to keep it because I didn't want the 'jaws of death' to get the gooey stuff. I was too cheap to buy the hard plastic container of it because that cost twice as much), both my Burt's Bees Lip Shimmers (in colors coffee and cocoa...mmm), a bottle of eye drops to go with my new contacts. And I never lose things, so you tell me a more reasonable explanation.

Oh, and yesterday when Jacob woke up, the excavator was already here. When he wakes up he usually stands up in bed to look out the back window, which is what he did then. Zach had to take part of the fenceline down for the machine could get it. It was the part outlining the dig pit. Zach and I were both downstairs when Jacob woke up and the first sign was that he burst into tears. We headed upstairs to see what the issue was. Jacob was crumpled in a heap on the bed and even though he was too distraught to speak clearly, I could tell by the fold in the shade that he had lifted it to look outside. Knowing him and imagining what the view looked like from there I guessed that he was upset about the dig pit. Jacob thought that they'd dug it up and ruined it. We explained that it was still there, and Zach pointed out the stones that outline the pit on the other side. Jacob was satisfied with that and started to calm down. But this just goes to show how much he really loves dirt. I guess it really was appropriate for me to fill in the 'interests' line on the form at the dentist today with 'construction'.

All Things Poop Related...

"When Nature Calls...We Answer!" That's the motto for the septic service company that's doing the excavating in our backyard. I also found this one: "We're #1 in the #2 Business" Zach and I think that's hilarious. The excavator has been here since yesterday and Jacob has never been so happy. When he woke up this morning he saw that it was still here and exclaimed, "The exabator is still here! They left it overnight for me!" We've been promising that he can sit in it and play around. I kind of feel like inviting all his little friends over so they can all play on it. Jacob would be the talk of the town as far as 3 year-olds go. He sits there for hours just watching them out the back window. Today while Jacob was gawking at them one of the guys yelled something to him. "Can you go get your mommy?" I heard him say a couple times before I tuned in and went to the window. He needed me to turn on a breaker (as he put it, causing me a moment of panic because it took a few seconds to realize that he just meant the light switch that powers a certain outlet).

On another poop-related subject, we were at the train store again today. Jacob had underwear on. I smelled something suspicious and I asked him if he had to go to the bathroom. "No!" he answered sharply. I should have known better than to believe him by the defensive tone in his voice. So 5 minutes later I asked again and this time copped a little feel: Affirmative. We had to hightail it out of there before the other customers realized where the stench was coming from. I couldn't carry Jacob because of the load in his pants (I didn't want to get it all smooshed around, you know?) so we had to take our time walking back to the van. Jacob picked the perfect time to learn this new trick with the rubber toe of his shoes where he dragged it mid-step over the ground causing himself to fall repeatedly on the sidewalk while I was left holding tightly the arm of the fallen child. I looked like a child abuser dragging her kid back to the car.

When we finally did make it back to the car I got to look like a child abuser again when I had to strip him naked from the waste down and try to clean his poop-smeared butt and inner legs (for the non-parents: when you have to pull poop-filled underwear off there's really no way to get around the mess it's going to make) with ice cold wipes, the side door open making possible the traveling of Jacob's voice "Owww, that hurts!" I was so mad because that was the 3rd time in two days (now 4 times in 2 days as of this writing) that he had told me he didn't poop in his underwear when he clearly did. Each time it's happened Jacob's reason for not telling me was that I was 'busy'. But I was standing right there asking him! So today was the first-ever time I have really scolded him for anything potty related. It sucks that he went in his pants, but I would never get mad at him for doing that. I'm upset because he lies to me about it. What's up with this? Is he embarrassed or something? There's really no getting around that because I'm going to be the one cleaning it up whether he tells me sooner or later. And one more question; what's up with the train store? Last week when we were there he did the same exact thing - pooped right there at the train table. He had a pull-up on that time though. I think I just need to decide: Pull-ups or underwear? We were doing so well with the underwear, then I got lazy and for a few days we were using pull-ups out of the house, and I realized Jacob was using the toilet less after that, so I switched back to full-time undies. I think I'm just confusing the poor kid.

This potty training feels a lot like having a newborn baby again. I'm back to changing Jacob's outfit 3 or more times a day, and when we go out I have to make sure to have a giant bag of all things we might need (a change of clothes, pull-up, even extra shoes incase it's a really big pee). And I don't know if this is just me, but when you have a baby it's ok if they don't match, maybe people won't even see the clothes the baby is wearing, but with an actual kid I feel like he needs to match or it says something about my level of parenting capability. I think it's more about my OCD than vanity though. I spend a great deal of time figuring out what he's wearing and what pants I can bring to match the shirt he's already wearing (because I might not have to change the whole outfit), and what extra shirt to match the extra pants, and socks too. Don't forget to make sure the extra outfit matches the shoes because the world might end if my 3 year-old doesn't have shoes to match what he is wearing.

Don't Throw Out Your Christmas Tree!!

I decided today was going to be the day that we got our Christmas tree. We haven't had one yet in this house (that means for 3 Christmases). This year we have to get one because Jacob is aware of the fact that it's something people do. OK, I'm fine with that. But I want a live one. I think it stinks that the trees have to die just for our frivilous use. I know there are plenty of arguments in favor of using cut trees (the oxygen it puts into the air, the fact that 2-3 trees are planted for each one that is cut, the benefits to the soil), but I'm always so sad to see the discarded trees by the side of the road after the holiday.

I've been talking to people about the whole live Christmas tree thing, and they've all been agreeing that it's a good idea and have recommended going to this one garden center near our house. Just like that. Before we left to go get the tree I thought I should call first just to make sure. Nope. Then I called 7 other places and none of them have the right thing either. I consulted with my mom. She suggested looking for a simple Norfolk Pine in a pot. So I called back all the places and none of them have that either. There is one place about a half hour away that's got the live trees, burlapped root ball and all but they start at $70, are really big and are not the kind that you can keep on the back patio all year long. It can only be kept in the house for a week at the most anyway. So I don't know what we're going to do.

Anyway, if you must have the 'real thing' and it's cut, then please read here for alternatives to leaving them by the side of the road.

Who's Kid Is This?

Yesterday morning Jacob woke up in a bad mood. He was kicking me, thrashing so, and yelling something about wanting chocolate. I take it he had been dreaming about having chocolate (that's my boy!), and I hope in this dream I wasn't taking it away from him, as it often seems is the case in his dreams. Well that incident was about the worst we've experienced the last couple weeks. Seriously, he's been the perfect child; all pleasant and loving.

Last Tuesday I decided must be the peak of his happy stage, as I took the following notes that day because I wanted to remember them: Got ready to leave the house pretty much by himself; played quietly at the doctor's office and was so well-behaved; asked to go back to gymnastics; didn't want a donut when I offered to go by Dunkin Donuts; let me return the 'Baby Santa' video "so other kids can take it out." I guess he's pretty much plateaued since that day, and it's probably good that he did because otherwise I would have started to look the gift horse right in the mouth by asking, "What's wrong with him that he is behaving so well?"

For a while I couldn't put my finger on what it was that felt so different. Jacob had been great, things seemed to be going smoothly, but it all felt somewhat odd, not quite right. And it was unnerving that I couldn't identify the cause of my distress. Then it hit me that the feeling was EASY. Being Jacob's mother was suddenly easy. Is mothering ever easy? Is it supposed to be? Well heck, I don't know because this is the first time I've experienced this. I'm of the philosophy that if something appears too good to be true, then it probably is. So I'm not expecting this to last. Don't get me wrong, it's not all smooth sailing right now, but when we do hit bumps, they seem to smooth themselves out pretty well. If Jacob does something 'bad' then he apologizes - without being prompted! Maybe he's not getting ready like I've asked, but when I raise my voice, he actually listens!

Have I mentioned before how much Jacob loves to get stuff for us? It's gotta be his favorite activity. It doesn't matter what Zach and I are doing, Jacob wants in, and he's happy with the crummiest of jobs. Anything I do in the kitchen, Jacob is game. Sometimes I make up little jobs just because it pleases him so. I have to admit his is a very good little go-fer. "Look it, I being very careful...I bring your tote bag over, and then the chair," he pointed out the other day as he slowly maneuvered a messy pathway to the couch.

Another day, as he was getting settled into bed, Jacob first said to me, "We had such a nice day." Then a few minutes later I was in the hall and I overheard him say to Zach, "I'm such a lucky boy because I get to stay up late." Yeah. 'Get to' is not the way I would put it, but how does he even know that he's different in that regard? I don't even think he realizes that other kids have their own beds, in their own rooms.

Whenever Zach and I are having conversations about whatever it is we talk about, Jacob always has to chime in with his 2 cents. It doesn't usually have anything to do with what we're talking about, but he catches one familiar word and takes off with it, telling a 'tall tale'. For instance, road: "One day there as a wion in da road and me and Bob had to go get it," or something like that, but usually always involving Bob the Builder and animals, and always outrageous.

Jacob also loves to tell real stories to people, whether we know the people or not. Today he was telling everyone about how I got stuck in an elevator. It happened when I was 9 and in Disney World, of all places, but Jacob tells it like it was yesterday because I don't think he can comprehend a time when I wasn't exactly like I am now, and a time before he was around. This morning Zach found out about the death of someone he knows in the running community. While we were at Zach's work (and I was skating on the ice, by myself) I guess Zach told Jacob about it. Since then I've been fielding various questions about the subject and Jacob has been telling everyone. I think continually repeating the story is a way for him to deal with it, and to understand that people die (a fact I had previously omitted from conversations with him).

One last thing about Jacob: He's been doing something lately with the way he pronounces certain words. I think it's a kind of two-steps-forward-1-step-backward kind of thing. Instead of femes, he says 'afemes' (machines); for Mosa (Marisa) he says Amosa; instead of baloney or balloon, he says aboney and aboon. He's creating his own little Pig Latin, the rule being remove letters to first syllable, except for the first, and put an A in front of the word. Hehe, it's so cute.

Anyway, today was nice. We finally got to play in the snow. Jacob got his wish...he's been asking about it every day. He's also been asking to see Evy and we finally did that today too. And we were also in Zach's work where I got to skate. There were only 2 other people on the ice so I go to breeze all around and do some jumps. It was So Nice to be able to do that. Sometimes I forget how much I love the ice. I'm going to post some pictures from today down below, and the last one is a 'before' shot of the back of the house.

Status Report:

The broiler pan is still in the kitchen sink, unwashed.

Mango chewed a whole bunch of Jacob's stuff over the weekend. This included a mitten of his (which he reacted to in such a cute, animated way but I couldn't capture it quickly enough on the video camera), an opposites book, a sock of Zach's, and Jacob's brand new Dora bath toy 2 days after our friend gave it to him as a belated birthday gift. I'd actually been talking about this exact subject the day prior with another friend who also adopted a dog from the same rescue trip. She said their dog is mostly chewing her daughter's Dora toys. I went on to talk about the Dora things that we have, all the while thinking to myself thank God she hasn't chewed any Dora stuff. Did she read my mind or are these dogs communicating over long distances?

After the cage incident last week, which resulted in the loss of the green hat, I decided we definitely weren't going to be able to maintain any sort of consistency with the crating idea. That's what the moving of furniture was about late that night last week. The dining room table is in Stella's garage now, along with 2 outdoor chairs and the glider from the backyard, the big-ass rocking chair from the living room, and something else I can't remember.

Since we have room in the corner now (previous home of rocking chair), we can put our Christmas tree there. I've been talking to Zach about it and he pissed me off with what he said about it. "Ok, you let me know when you find one of those (the live trees with the root ball wrapped in burlap)," he patronized. Like it was something weird to do. Tons of people use these trees and they have them everywhere. So Zach was talking to his mom about it the other day and she said something to that effect - that it's s pretty common thing and they have them available all over. So now he's on board. He's like that about everything. He doesn't believe me until he hears the same thing I said on the subject from an 'authority'. I was going to clip the forsythia bush at the end of the summer but he got to it first and went around chopping all the tops off to make it nice and round. I flipped out because I know the proper way to clip a bush and this was not it. Zach wouldn't admit to his mistake until his mom came over a few days later and made fun of him about the way he clipped the bush.

Often times he'll be sick or injured in some way and I'll suggest a method of treatment. He doesn't follow-through on that until he hears the same thing from the trainer at the college. I do know what I'm talking about sometimes, but even in my marriage I often find myself falling back into the position I've always been in with my family of origin. I am the baby of the family, by a lot. And no one ever takes me seriously. No one thinks I am capable of doing anything noteworthy. And I always let myself slip back into that mode of believing them. I have very little confidence. One day I feel great about myself, like I am an actual functioning adult and I let myself think that I have something to offer the world. Then something happens to bring me back down to reality. Maybe this is part of why I always need so much reassurance, so much feedback. I don't have to tools to accurately judge where I stand in the world. I would love to be able to step outside myself and see me the way others do.

None of this has anything to do with 'status report'. Where was I? Oh yeah, crating. Nope, not for us at this point. We used to but for some reason stopped. And the furniture: the dining room is more open now so most of the dog stuff is in there. I'm using the interlocking gate to close them off in the dining room (minus a table so I guess I should just call it the dog room) when we leave the house.

The back porch is completely knocked down now. Woohoo! Even though it has to get much worse before it will start to get better, I am loving the way it is now because at least it is actual real progress. There's no turning back now, after 3 years of simply talking about an addition. So we can't use the back door. The dogs have to be let out the front now and brought around back to the fenced in area. This is more involved so obviously they are getting let out less. Also, whenever they do go out the front door leashes have to be put on and they think they're going for a walk. I can't stand to get their hopes up like this so I've just not been letting them out as much. Poor doggies. I have been giving them more attention lately though. And it seems to be paying off.

Another thing that has been paying off is that just in the last few days Zach and I decided to make a conscious effort at training Mango, and I guess Ginger too while we're at it. We were going to do obedience school, but really, we know what we're doing. I even have the psychology background so I can do this. Mango is already sitting on command (yeah, I know, big deal). I've been leaving the gate to the kitchen open when Jacob is sitting at the little table eating. Mango comes in, but I tell her to sit and she does. I figure that if I never give her a chance to learn not to go for his food, then she would attempt it every time she sneaks into the kitchen. And now when Mango chews something, I take it and hold it up to her nose and tell her "No!" Then I give her something appropriate to chew. I think she's starting to get it.

Jacob has been better with the dogs too. I think he's picking up on my positive feelings. Speaking of Jacob, he is too cute. For a few weeks now he's been singing the ABC's. Like 2 dozen times a day. It used to be fun because I could sing along with him, but now he won't let me. No one is allowed to sing along. It's still cute as hell; he sings it with different feeling and at various levels of volume depending on his mood. He even sings it to himself at night when going to sleep.

a b c d e f dee atesh i day pay ewl m n o
p u owr s t oou v double-oou ess y and see
now I know oou abc's, next time don't sing with me!

The broiler pan...

...is in the kitchen sink. It has been there since Thursday when I took it off of the stove where it was placed by Zach on Tuesday after the salmon finished cooking. It's a little game we're playing. At least I'm making it a game. It's very possible that Zach has just not noticed it there, even though he visits the kitchen sink several times a day, because he's a guy and that is just a guy thing to do. It's sort of our deal that I cook the Salmon if Zach does the handling part, and the cleaning part which includes scraping the dead skin off of the pan. Uuuhhh...my vegetarian stomach is churning at the thought. Well he was busy with all the tearing down of the back porch this past week, so I guess he never got around to it. I have to give him credit though because lately he's been very helpful around the house, and quite pleasant, to boot. He's been running again, everyday. And it's always been clear to me that he is a very different person depending on whether he's running or not.

I've tried this kind of thing before and it always ends with me breaking down and moving whatever offending object it is that's been ignored for 5 days in a row. I think one time it was a glass that Zach had been using. He left it somewhere around the house and ordinarily I would just pick it up without thinking about it, but sometimes I catch myself in the act of one of those insanely mundane home-maker tasks, and I wonder if I didn't do these things, who would? So I decide to test it out, and the answer I come up with is always the same: No one. Each day that goes by, I figure the odds of the glass being moved by someone other than me lessen. Usually the suspense is too much for me and by day 3 or so I start to crack, "Are you going to move that freaking glass?" I ask through gritted teeth. By day 5 I am going a little crazy and that's when I crack. So I haven't made it beyond 5 days yet. But this time will be different.

Did you ever see that episode of Everybody Loves Raymond where Ray and Debra have a suitcase sitting at the bottom of their staircase all week long, which neither one of them will take up the stairs. I think they'd just gotten back from a vacation or something. In the end there's a big to-do about it, Ray's father is involved, and I believe someone ended up with a bad injury? That episode was just so funny to us because that's what our lives are like, only we don't have the laugh track. Infact, we've always said that show is the one that best exemplifies what our relationship is like.

It's already been almost 6 days, and I've really only had the occasional urge to soak the pan so that the skin doesn't become permanently affixed to the surface. There hasn't been a word spoken about it, so that when Zach finally does give in, I can feel satisfied in the knowledge that my nagging had no part in his defeat; that by shear will alone, I patiently won the battle. And I will reign over this kingdom until the next time someone leaves their sweaty running clothes on the bed.

Oh and go here. I meant to post about this when I first saw it last Monday, but am only now getting around to it so you have to go to the November 27th entry, underneath Carly Patterson. That's me. Cool!