Dear Jacob: December 2007

Dear Jacob,

I've been procrastinating this monthly post again. Ironically, the thing that has finally brought me to finish it is the fact that I am currently postponing finishing the essay for my grad school application (what's that you say? Yes, I am crazy).

While I've been procras- tinating, you've suddenly become an adult. You let the dogs out at will, the house cleaning has continued, except now you don't even ask us first. Help yourself to stuff in the fridge, open the shades in the moring, turn on the TV without asking, unlock the front door - and if I didn't have a baby lock-knob-thing on it you would be letting yourself out of the house, and probably into the car and down the road to the store!

You love getting dressed and are very into being neat these days. You tuck in your shirt, put on a belt, brush your hair. You've been telling me you need your hair cut, even after you've just been to the barber shop with Papa. That's your thing with him. You guys also play barber shop a lot in between hair cuts.

Although you like getting dressed by yourself in the morning all big-boyish, the putting away of the clothes needs some work. When you undress your clothes either end up in a hidden corner of the house, or if you have a direct target when you're taking them off they get thrown in the face of the person standing nearby.

You won't leave the damn dogs alone. You have to intervene when they are rough- housing with each other. You think Mango is attacking Ginger and you tell her she is bad. I tell you to stop and you just stand there with your fists clenched at your sides, ready to pounce. You groan a little that you can't beat her up and stare with this evil look on your face then run past her, skimming her side and almost knocking her over. Then you scream and tear around the house. What the hell?


I guess I can't blame you for the some of the recent behavior. I don't know what's gotten into your father, but sometimes he'll pull such stupid stunts in front of you that all I can do is stare at him and wonder how he could be so dumb. I'd made a pie recently so Daddy got a can of Reddi-Wip at the store to go with it. Well long after the pie was gone, the can of whipped cream was still in the fridge. You and I were in the kitchen baking or something and in walks Daddy, goes to the fridge, pulls out the can, tips his head back and starts to squirt it in his mouth. I tried to cover up the act, but I could tell it had already made a heavy impression. So what did you do with the new-found material? We had some friends over just a couple hours later, and just as everyone is sitting down to have dinner, you walk into the room and up to the table with the top of the can of Reddi-Wip stuck in your mouth. Or how about the other day when you were getting ready for bed and Daddy retrieved a pull-up (yes, you are still wetting the bed at night) from the bathroom, walked up to Mango and stuck it over her head so she had to walk around with it on like muzzle. Sometimes I feel like a single parent in a two-child household.

Seriously, with the dogs. Stop. Already. If Mango even comes near you and you freak out. You ball up your little fists and get as close to her as you can before I shriek your name at the top of my lungs. You know what this is? It's sibling rivalry. Ginger is like the dear, sweet old aunt that lives in the in-law apartment off to the side of our house, and Mango is like the annoying little sister that won't go away.

It's a good thing you're not going to school because you would be the smelly kid. I used to blame it on your iron supplements and wave away the smell explaining to outsiders that you had your iron that day. Um...since your doctor visit this month and him telling us we could ease up on the supplements, I haven't been giving it to you that much. You stink even on non-iron supplements days and the only excuse I have left is that you are your father's child.

And here are some direct quotes for your future enjoyment:

You: "Why aren't we in a talking mood today?"
Me: "I don't know...maybe because we were at that party and it was so noisy and now we just want a little quiet."
"Yeah...I wasn't in a talking mood at the party. All those people were asking me those (choosing your words carefully) darn-it questions!" Darn and darn-it are your current all-purpose, parent-approved swear words.

When you have to pee, you go to the "batroom". You can't pronounce the 'th' sound yet, but I think it is so cute how those kinds of words come out.

Recently a Bob video got over with, you jumped up, turned off the TV, then just started talking about Bob. "Oh...hm...Bob's gotta pick up some supplies today. Yeah, Pilchard just....hm...well the other day Pilchard came in and the door was all messed up so she went through Bob's supplies so she could fix it." All the while you're pacing back and forth, motioning with your hands, bobbing your head around with this cute little expression on your face. And I cannot describe it well enough!

There's so much to say about you - my heart is full of things to say, as well as things there are no words for. It's as if being pregnant has filled me to the bring with maternal feelings; like my heart is being stretched in expectancy of the new baby on its way. To me, the most fascinating part of having another child is the phenomenon of loving the second child just as much as the first. I've never understood how that can happen. I certainly believe it from knowing mothers of multiple children, but I'm excited to witness the evolution for myself. It seems the process of this heart-growing has already begun, and incidentally, it is you who has most helped me get to this point. I feel the realness of this baby most strongly in your already welcoming love for it.

Love,

Mommy