Coming Along...

Here's the progress that's been made in the two weeks since these pictures were taken. Slowly but surely...

And a picture of Baby Tigger for good measure!

The Best News

Wow...I am still here in bed, slowly recovery. Although it doesn't feel like I'm recovering yet. Each day I've just been getting worse, my face getting bigger and the pain more intense. This is not what I expected, I thought two days of being in bed and I'd be good to go. This is day 4. I feel like I had the shit kicked out of me. And there's the physical pain mixed with all the emotional weirdness. Like I have absolutely no motivation to do anything. And this is such a contrast to what I am usually like when I'm taking my prescribed stimulant medication. So it feels weird to be this person laying around, and then I talk to my friends who have more than one child, and both of their kids are seriously sick. I know of four moms right now who have been going through hell with both their kids sick all week long, and then that makes me feel incredibly guilty. It puts things into perspective, but it doesn't give me the ability to suddently jump up and be all better, so I've just got the guilt piled on top of the sloth.

Seriously though, I have been really lucky this week. My mom and Jamie are being absolute saints, taking Jacob to their house for big chunks of the day and bringing food over for the people in the house who can actually eat. Zach took two whole days off of work and never complained about it. He's been just great. I was really nervous about it, but he's been really sweet to me and that is just so touching, especially considering it is still the busy season at work. Thank you, thank you, thank you to you guys. And Jacob...man, what a sweet kid. He is just the best. He totally gets what kind of surgery I had and knows that he needs to be careful around me and quiet, and he's been fetching things for me and petting me and kissing me. This morning in bed he was all curled up with me and he said, "I missed you, Mommy." I asked him when and he told me, "When I goed to MamMa and Papa's."

The people around me have been making things very nice for me, and that is so great, but I'm the kind of person who gets messed up in the head easily and four days of taking these pain killers (which I can't stand anymore because of the horrible side effects, but I can't stop taking because of the throbbing pain) has got my head all screwy. So my mom had just taken Jacob away. I was alone with him for a few hours this morning and that was about all I could handle. I was sitting on the floor downstairs just finishing up some e-mails that aren't going to make sense to their recipients and I won't even remember writing, and the dogs started going crazy. I looked up. Stella was at the door! I don't think I've ever been so happy to see her. I let her in and gave her a big hug and I knew it didn't matter to her the way I was dressed or that I now resemble a blowfish. I kept telling her that Jacob is going to be so excited when he finds out she's home. She gave me a Disney bag with a toy in it for Jacob that I will let him open later, and two place mats with roosters on them, used place mats. Why? I don't know, because she's Stella. I'm dying laughing (on the inside because there'll be no stitch-popping here) because who shows up on your door step with used housewares as a gift? That's our Stella. I am so glad she is back.

Little Bear II

It's been so many weeks since Little Bear disappeared that I am losing track. I searched and searched the internet for one that is exactly the same, but it simply cannot be found. I stand by my original statement that our Little Bear had litte bear ears up on the top of her head. And my mom swears on that fact too. The only possible explanation is that it was a rare, factory mistake. I don't even care about the possible monetary value here, I just like being different so it's cool that we had one like that, but now it's gone. I have searched all our pictures for a glimpse of Little Bear, but there is none to be had. She sat up there on that shelf for three years, and she should have made it into the 'after picture' I took of Jacob's room exactly 3 years ago today but there's something else there in her place. It's a mystery.

There's been constant searching; checking and re-checking of places I know she's not hiding in. I know she's gone, but part of me is still holding out for that magic moment I know could be just around the corner when she shows up again. I don't know what's possessing me here; it's a freaking stuffed animal. Am I doing this for Jacob, or for me? I still say there's something about me as a person being demonstrated here. It's not about the bear - dog - whatever it is. What is it I feel I have really lost? Could it somehow be about not being in control? I never lose things, maybe it is just killing me that this cannot be solved by the simple, methodical re-tracing of one's steps. But the problem here is it not my steps I am retracing. It is Jacob's steps I am trying to retrace...and for the first time in his life, those steps were not taken side-by-side with mine. Could this be the real issue?

If that's the case, then there's no real solving it. I'm going to go about the rest of my life with this scary, longing feeling, as if something were missing. My God, this is what it is like to be a mother. You wear your heart outside your body, just like the damn Care Bears.

A couple weeks ago when I was going through the photo albums searching for a picture of Little Bear, Jacob caught a glimpse of Baby Tigger. He exclaimed, "I used to have a Baby Tigger?!" And I told him we still had it, he was just put away in the closet. Jacob asked that I pull Baby Tigger out of the closet and I did. Predictably, Baby Tigger has gone everywhere with us. He 'drove' to Vermont last week with me and Jacob. On the trip Jakie announced that he wanted to paint Tigger blue and put a heart on his belly, and his toosh. Then he took it back and said, "No, I want him to stay orange." Maybe he realized that Little Bear can't be replaced, or that he didn't want her to be.

All this is really great, but I did end up getting a Loyal Heart Dog from ebay. What happens when it comes? I haven't told Jacob that I ordered one, but he knows now that Little Bear is lost. We agreed that she must have fallen in the parking and that maybe a kid who doesn't have a lot of toys picked her up. Because that kid doesn't have a lot of toys, he or she is taking really good care of Little Bear. And because Little Bear is being cared for so well, she is happy. This is something I think I can live with, and I'm actually wondering who I created the story for: Jacob or me? I know it will make Jacob so happy to get a new Little Bear, and eventually he'll forget that it's a replacement, or maybe he won't. But the magic won't be there, and I don't want to override all the progress we have both made in the last couple weeks.

Anyway, it's been 19 days since I checked out on ebay and nothing has come in the mail yet...I am just not having good luck with the little bears...

Cool Kid (notice Tigger to the side)

100 Mile view from Hogback Mountain

Sunset on the drive home

Baby Tigger rounds the corner

Recovery

Well, it's done. I got my wisdom teeth out yesterday. The night before I was due to have them out I was totally freaking out. I was getting lots of things taken care of and taking pictures incase I had one of those rare complications and I never regained control of my face. I decided I didn't want it done afterall, nor did I need it. I finally got on the computer and figured out what was going on with my teeth that they needed to come out. Dentists are just not good at explaining things. Seriously, I'd seen three different dentists in the last year and none of them could come up with the simple explanation I found myself via the internet. Back in the caveman days our jaws used to be a lot longer than they are now, so there was room for those extra teeth. And there was a need too. Apparently all the tough, caveman food really wore out one's teeth, so by the time you were 18-20 and your other raw meat-chewing teeth had been worn-down, a new set was coming through in the back. Now that our modern-man jaws are a lot smaller, that third set of molars still comes in but the up-turned jaw makes it a problem, hence, impaction.

Thank you. I kept saying I didn't understand what was impacted about my teeth because they were coming through and I had no pain. And the dentists just kept giving me the circular explanation. So now I get that they were growing at an angle and needed to come out because they would eventually grow into the other teeth. And I won't be needing those teeth because I don't eat meat to begin with! Now they're gone, and I quite miss them. I wish I had at least goteen to bring them home to put under my pillow. I could have used the cash from the Tooth Fairy to pay the bill for the surgery.

Yesterday was really rough. I came home still looped-up and completely numb, thus oblivious to the blood dripping out of my mouth all over the place. Good thing I was wearing a red shirt. I was walking around doing dishes, cleaning up the house, cracking jokes that no one could understand; I must have been a pretty sight. When whatever they gave me in the office wore off, I expected that the pain killers would knock me out and that would be it. Halfway through the day I called my mom crying, insisting that she had to call the dentist's office to get them to prescribe something stronger. I actually convinced her to call, but they were closed for lunch. Go figure.

Anyway, today is a lot better. I've been camped upstairs in the bed so I can actually sleep, instead of downstairs in the middle of all the action like yesterday. I iced the surgical spots non-stop so I had no swelling at first, but today I'm all puffed up on the one side (left) where my tooth was impacted in the bone (yuck!) and it's still getting more swollen. I was out of bed for a few hours today when I didn't take the pain killers and we went for a walk with the dogs in this beautiful weather. I just went upstairs to check on Zach, who brought Jacob up to bed a long time ago. Here's what I found:

Jacob has been sleeping mostly in the big bed, but a few times in the last week he's started the night in the little bed. And apparently, Zach started the night in the little bed too.

My New Boy

I brought this book home from work the other day. It's a cute one. I really like to read books to Jacob that encourage a different perspective, and will help him to become a critical thinker. I guess this is part of my homeschooling vision. I have to emphasize that I don't think badly of school in general, I just don't think it is for us. I was talking about this with a friend yesterday, a friend who is a teacher and about to become a parent herself so I didn't want her to think I was in any way trying to convince her my way is the better way. I said that (and this goes for anything parenting that I do) I do the things I do because it works best for our family, but that I am not judgmental of other people because they don't do things the same way. All I care about is that people make choices based on what they know works best for their own lifestyle/family, and not because society tells them to, or because that's the norm.

Anyway, back to the homeschooling: For now it just looks like any other learning that takes place when you have a three year old in the house. I try to take full, conscious advantage of the teaching, or learning, moments that occur during the normal course of the day, and as Jacob gets older I think it will look pretty much the same but with more complex concepts and by the fact that it will be happening at home and not in school. So last week when we were driving home from the mall (a mall trip where Jacob got sized for his tux he's to wear at my sister's wedding in May - sooo cute) I realized it was the first full day of spring and I started explaining it to him. I quizzed Jacob on the other seasons, but every time I would ask, "And then what season comes next?" he would answer, "Season 6!" or, "Season 2!" After a few rounds of this I realized he was referring to the Gilmore Girls. How sad is that? "Season 2, the one where it snows!" My poor child. I explained how a word can mean two different things depending on how it is used. So it goes.

Last week was the end of our current session of music class. Jacob pranced around most of the class, participating, but with his fist pressed to his ear in his 'I'm on my cell phone' mode. He's done this before, usually not for the whole class, and usually in an actual conversation with Bob or one of the machines, but this time he just had his 'phone' to his ear. What is this, some way of signaling his aloofness? Anyway, this is the same program, Music Together, but a different group than we were with the first two years of it so there's a new teacher and we love her. She does a lot of stuff with African drums, and just different stuff like that in general. So in keeping with my quest for anything different, I appraoched the teacher and asked her if she does anything outside of the class because I want to keep up with the music stuff when Jacob ages out of this program soon. She said she'd love to if I got a group together, so that's something to look forward to in the homeschooling department.

And here's the part I've been holding off on writing about because I don't think I want to admit it's happening. Jacob has been sleeping in his own bed. Last week I was washing the bed sheets so I threw in the little sheet that is over the small mattress we refer to as the 'little bed', but which has just been leaning up against the wall for months on end. When I put the sheet back on the mattress I layed it down on the floor, and having recently moved stuff around to create space for the constant spillage from other rooms that are beign renovated, there was a spot for the little bed. I pushed it into place and since Jacob was right there I found myself explaining to him that he could go in there if he wanted to. "What I am doing??" I questioned myself even as the words were still coming out of my mouth. I'm sure Jacob would have asked for the little bed if he felt he needed his own place to sleep, he knew of its existence, but I guess in that moment I felt that if I hadn't said that I would be depriving him. And I also knew it would make him really happy, so I just went on talking about it. And it did, it made him happy. So happy and proud that he decided to take him nap there. And you know what? He fell right asleep.

I should stop here with the talk about how there were no complications to him falling asleep because I suppose I could be creating an argument against co-sleeping, but honestly, I think it was just the novelty of it. The nap part wasn't so bad (he napped there the next day too), but when he chose to go to sleep there three nights in a row, I didn't know what to do. I couldn't go in the big bed, it was too empty and lonely feeling. It used to just be the bed, as it was the only one, but since last week it has taken on the new name. I couldn't leave Jacob in his room so far away and with a wall between. I was not liking the little bed situation, but at the same time it was so cute to see him snuggled in there, hugging Baby Tigger (current Little Bear replacement) and with the Boppy I nursed him on as his pillow. All three nights Jacob eventually ended up in our bed and it was just so nice, the moment he came into the room and everything fit back into place. He's been back with us since the initial three nights, and I think that is good for now. He had his little foray into his own bed, a little taste of indepdence, it happened naturally, and now he knows it is there as an option. And I have my new boy back with me, guilt-free.

The Killer Mens

Jacob's getting to a point where he's asking about death. I'm not sure how to handle this. For a long time I avoided it completely because I didn't want him to end up like me and fear death every day of his life. This is understandable in my situation, certainly not healthy, but easy to see where my fear came from. My dad died when I was nine and ever since I've been afraid of either my own death or the death of someone I love. So I don't really know if informing a child, unexperienced in loss, about death is automatically going to make him believe that at any time his world could end. I always assumed that the day he learned about death would be the end of his innocence. From then on Jacob would be worried about Zach leaving one day and not coming back; or me.

In talking to Jacob about death, I'm beginning to realize my perception may not be normal. It should be a simple equation: To the degree that you enjoy being alive, in the opposite direction you should fear death to an equal amount. It doesn't seem to be so for other people and this amazes me. Jacob is taking it pretty well so far. Of course he's not going to fully understand what it means to die for a long time yet, but I think he's got a pretty good start.

Last year at this time I was in the middle of my first attempt at concurrent mothering and graduate school. It didn't really work out so I was glad that I went took a class I wanted to take, rather than a class I needed to take for the program. I took 'Loss With Children and Adolescents'. It was more 'group therapy' than academic, but I really enjoyed merging my life story with what I expect will be my life's work. The class really got me thinking about how I would introduce the concept to Jacob, and I realized I'd never told Jacob about my father because I was avoiding telling him about what happened to my father. And that was just sad. I began showing him pictures and telling him his name and gradually introduced the part about him dying. I figured that if I started using the word 'death' before it could possibly mean anything to him, then maybe it would be accepted as a natural part of life when Jacob figures out what it really means. I didn't want his first knowledge of death to be the real thing, to come as a shock, and to knock him completely off his moorings. I'm kind of thinking of it in the way that adoptive parents start telling their children early on about their adoption so that by the time they figure out what it means, it is just part of who they are.

Anyway, this death stuff has all been coming up a lot recently. A few months ago an older acquaintance of Zach's passed away and there was talk of it in our household that Jacob inevitably picked up on. And then there was a week in January when there were four deaths that we knew of. I can't figure out what's been happening in the last couple weeks that's brought it to the forefront again, but Jacob's been bringing it up a lot. I finally broke down and explained it in the best three year old terms I could: "When someone dies their body stops working, but their soul - the part that makes you who you are, your thoughts and feelings - goes to a place called Heaven..." etc, etc. My understanding of all this is tenuous, and my faith in it all is shakey, so I have to be careful what I say. Two nights ago at my mom's house Jacob stuck a couple Little People into the bottom of Noah's Ark and told me that the people died.
"Ohhh...how did that happen?" I asked.
"The parents left them home, and they were gone, and the killer mens came in and KILLED THEM!"
(speechlessness).
"I put them in the doctor's (implying that he thinks they can be 'fixed'). And I put a bale of hay in there (to keep them fed?). And (putting a sheep and a cow in too) some animals to keep them company (how sweet)."

WTF?? Where did that come from? Jacob hardly ever sees commercials, and never sees the news. Any kids he is ever around I know well and I'm right there. I never used that word.

Today while I was getting ready to leave Brattleboro Jacob asked me out of the blue, "How did Gordy die?" That's my dad. I don't know when the last time we talked about him was, so I don't know where this came from, but I gave him an honest answer. It was the first time I gave him an explanation of death that didn't include the idea that people die when they are very old. Is this something I should be afraid of, or am I just crazy?

On the way home an ambulance went zooming past us and Jacob sadly wondered if "Somebody's body died." At least he's learning to be compassionate about it. And I'm hoping that somewhere along the way, in all this teaching about death, that I am able to find my own peace with it.

Rite of Passage

This is Loyal Heart Dog. He is honest and loyal. His faithfulness and warm personality make him the best true-blue friend anyone could ever have. The heart-shaped medal on Loyal Heart Dog's tummy stands for the things he stands for - being truthful, trustworthy & a loyal friend.

Jacob had one of these guys, but don't tell him that I used the past tense. It was given to Jacob around the time of his birth, by my brother and sat up on a shelf for three years. At some point recently I pulled it off the shelf, by Jacob's request or my own volition, I can't remember. Jacob took to it immediately and it starting going everywhere with us. Around the time when I realized that this bear was going to be IT for Jacob, he'd just watched the show Little Bear for the first time. So when I asked Jacob if he'd thought about naming what is actually a dog, he naturally came back with Little Bear.

Little Bear got lots of snuggle time, went on many interesting car trips, and was often the main character in some of Jacob's outrageous scenarios. She was on her way to becoming Jacob's 'Blankie'. Blankie was my security blanket when I was a kid. She is, of course, a living being with a personality of her very own, complete with actual feelings. She used to go to school with me everyday (for more years than I'm comfortable admitting) and slept with me every night. I was forever waking up in the middle of the night with Blankie nowhere to be found. I, or my mom (enlisted to help in the search), woud inevitably find Blankie smooshed up in the corner of the bed, or under the covers, or between the wall and the mattress and all would be well again. There was one terrifying time, I think I was seven, when Blankie was actually lost out there in the world and I remember my parents driving around for what seemed like hours (and very well could have been) looking for her with me. I finally found her mushed up in a snowbank in the parking lot of the place we'd eaten dinner at and I cannot describe the feeling of completeness when she was safe again in my arms. After that Blankie became triplets. I took the scissors to her and cut away so that I would always have a piece of her with me.

I think my own experience of having lost and found something whose permanent disappearance could have shattered my world is what is keeping me from reconciling the loss of Little Bear. It was almost two weeks ago when I last saw her (we decided it was a 'she'). I was dropping Jacob off at my mom's so I could go to work. I was in a rush but was sure to make it very clear that when Jacob left her house Little Bear must go with him. This was the day that I took Jacob to the doctor for his sick visit. My mom swears Little Bear left the house with them, but the point where things become foggy is when she and Jamie pulled in the parking lot at my work. They were bringing Jacob to me so I could get him to his appointment. We were all too preoccupied to notice if Little Bear was there or not. I can't exactly remember when we did realize she was gone. It was at least a couple days later, and maybe Jacob was asking after her. I told him we must have left her at Grandma's house and that we'd get her next time we were there. Well when Little Bear wasn't there a couple days later I knew it meant trouble. It was the weekend so the call to the doctor's office would have to wait until Monday. In the meantime, we (my mom and I) began ruling out other places as well as scouring the compartments of our brains that might hold a clue to the whereabouts of Little Bear.

My Monday afternoon it was clear that LB was more than likely never to be seen again. I got on the computer and began the great Ebay search. I've found them, but none that I can be sure are exactly like our LB. I am positive Little Bear had bearish ears; little round ones at the top of her head like any other Care Bear would have, but remember, this is a dog, a Care Bear Cousin, and the dog ears are floppy and hang down. Loyal Heart Dog doesn't come with the dinky, round ears. Now I am convinced that we had a 'flawed' Care Bear which would have been worth a ton. The one variant (because there are different versioins of each CareBear) I can't pin down is whether or not our LB had the eye patch or not. The more I think about it, the more confused I get. And it is killing me that I don't have a clear picture of her in my head. I've scoured all of our pictures hoping for a glimpse of her.

How is Jacob doing with all of this? The first week he was crushed that we didn't have her. He would ask everyday where she was and when we were getting her back, his face all twisted up and pouty. When we got back home after being at my mom's the time we were supposed to be getting LB back, Jacob started to cry as he realized, "We never got Little Bear back from Grandma's!" In all the time I spent researching it on the computer I've been so careful to hide the screen from Jacob. I didn't want him to see the picture and be reminded because at this point he's only been asking about her every other day. But when I was checking out on ebay after the closing of the auction, Jacob saw the picture and said, "Oh yeah, where is that little bear?" Did you catch that? That litte bear, uncapitalized. She's already losing importance to him and that makes me incredibly sad. I don't know why it should, but it's like part of his childhood is being lost to the only place I can figure Little Bear must have ended up - the muddy parking lot.

So here we are, in the middle of it still. I'm not sure how the experience will be relfected upon down the road when I'm looking back at it, but for now all I can do look down at the road when I'm driving, as if I'm expecting to see Little Bear resting there in the gutter. There's something Freudian in this and I can't quite put my finger on it...all I can say is this feels like some weird parental rite of passage that's just part of the deal. With love, comes loss.

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Postscript: I wrote this over a week ago, so there've been more devlopments, but I figure this is so damn long already that I'll save the updates for my next post. Stay tuned.

My Kind of Saturday Night

These Days

Well, we had another big snowstorm last night and into today. It actually started on our way home from Niagara Falls, making the what should have been the last hour of our drive, the last three hours. But Jacob did really well in the car and we were all happy so it was nice to have the time together.

By the time I woke up this morning, Zach was at work because he had to be in at 7am to open up for a long day of basketball games. His car was here though, completely burried by snow. I just assumed that Zach had someone from campus safety come pick him up or something. This isn't something that Zach usually does but because of the sheer amount of snow I figured he had no other choice. Jacob and I went about our day and finally went out to shovel some time after noon. We started in the back yard, much to the pleasure of Mango, who ran around like crazy for at least the first hour. Eventually my mom and Jamie came down with the snowblower and helped to dig out the cars. We must have spent at least 3 hours outside basically shoveling snow. I wouldn't have wanted to spend the day any other way though.

At some point Zach called the house to check in. I asked in passing how he's gotten to work and Zach told me he ran. I didn't believe him for a full five minutes, but he did. This shouldn't be that big of a deal, Zach is a runner afterall, and when we bought the house he always planned to run into work. But for some reason it's different when it's 7 in the morning and he's running to work because he had no other choice, and he's in a suit! By the time we came inside it was too late for Jacob to take a nap so I figured we'd just scratch the trip to the grocery store I had planned and wait out the next few hours.

Zach came home a couple hours ago so he and Jacob played for a while, ate dinner, then Zach joined me here on the couch. Jacob, completely naked, fooled around for a few more minutes, climbed up onto the couch, then squeezed between me and Zach and promptly fell asleep. We'd tried to wake him, but there's really no chance. He shoveled, and I mean shoveled, not played in, the snow for three hours. He is serious about work, you know.

Speaking of Jacob, he's been so good lately! He's all about saying 'thank you' and 'I'm sorry'. Mostly for appropriate things, but also sometimes for completely random things. When we were at the rest area Burger King the other day Jacob spotted the soda fountain and remembered that Zach isn't drinking soda anymore. "Thank you for not drinking soda and Red Bull and beer, Daddy!" Then, giving cola a category of its own, he added "....and Pepsi!" I don't know why beer gets thrown in here. Zach hasn't given that up and I prefer it that way; out of all the things Jacob listed, beer is the one that has some actual nutritional value. Anyway, he's just been a really happy kid lately and I'm really enjoying it. I have been so much better with him; so much more patient and understanding. I don't know what the difference is really, but ever since the video camera incident, I've been a much better mother. I think I just got it all out that day. Not to mention the fact that I aired my dirty laundry to you all, and I think in that way I've been monitoring myself, holding myself to a higher standard.

Back to Jacob: He's says things like 'sage green', probably the only three year-old who distinguishes between the different hues of color. Maybe it's all the paint chips we've been looking at lately. I'll never forget the time last month when I was at work and I overheard a mother tell her daughter not to say 'darnit'. I just laughed and confessed that was the word I instruct Jacob to use instead of the far, far worse words that had been coming out of his mouth at that time.

Anyway, here he is cuddled up against me and I wish I could stay in this spot forever, but Zach and I are about to knock down the back wall!!

Trial Run

As usual we were very much behind schedule with the leaving of the house. But it was too cute to see Jacob sprint up the stairs when I told him it was time to back his bag. He happily conversed with me as I picked a few shirts and pants out, and when I found socks to match he agreeably set to folding them. I left him in the room to finish with the socks while I finished up my packing and he came out a minute later all gleeful and ecstatic. He was prancing around so excitedly that I knew something was up. He fessed up to having packed all three pairs of footy pajamas, and totally knowing the feeling of not be able to decide (because how do you know what you’re going to feel like wearing when you get there?), I agreed to compromise and let him bring two pairs instead of the one I requested he pack. The last thing I needed was Jacob’s toothbrush and toothpaste but they were nowhere to be found. Jacob overheard me asking Zach if he’d seen them and he shouted up that he’d already packed them. Yup, there they were in his bag. So responsible.

On the drive out we had to get dinner for Jacob, so we ended up at a Burger King in one of the rest areas. The only 'fast food' that Jacob has ever had is a bean burrito at Taco Bell (and this is only when we are desperate), and Dunkin Donuts, if you can count that as fast food. Thankfully they have veggie burgers at BK, but they also have French fries, which Zach got for himself. When they came out of the line with the bag in hand, I heard Jacob ask Zach, "What are those?" pointing to the French fries. He's never had them. He doesn't even know what McDonalds is, and I consider this an accomplishment of mine. We didn't give Jacob a name for the fries, but we did let him eat some. I guess I figure that if I can't stop him from eating them, I can at least hold off on naming them - my thinking being if he doesn't have a name for them, then maybe it will be more likely that Jacob will forget he ever had them. It's not like we'll be sitting around a week later and Jacob will say, "Can I have some French fries?" He'd have to be like, "Um...can I have some of those things that we had the other day?"; "What things, honey?"; "Those things that were in the bag and then me and Daddy ate them..."; "I don't know what you're talking about, maybe you imagined it..."

So we made it out at exactly midnight, Jacob having fallen asleep just 45 minutes prior. He stayed awake for over five hours in the car. What three year-old kid does that? Jacob was really good though. He's used to taking frequent car trips like that, thanks to my once-a-month ventures to Vermont for a regular appointment. During the drive Zach and I figured that the length of this trip is about what we'd have to do every day that we are away in July. About six hours in the car every day, on average, if we're going to make it to the other side of the country and back. We'll hopefully be riding in an RV with (I am so not liking this) a DVD player. But I'm torn because I want the trip to be about Jacob looking out the window at all the sites because, who am I kidding, that's how we're going to see most of the country - through a pane of glass. I don't want it to become one long marathon of videos. I think the DVD player should be reserved for the most desperate of times, but I also know that it's just another line to cross, and once we make that initial trek into that territory, it will be that much easier to do it again because we will have already paved the way.

We all had a good time, Zach at the basketball games, us moms shopping (I lusted over the maternity clothes in the window of Motherhood), the kids being generally naked the whole time. Three year-old nudist colonies tend to crop up when you're all staying in the same house, I guess. "Jacob's nudie! I want to be nudie too!" We had a five minute trip to the falls in the freezing cold because of my crazy need to fulfill a technicality.

Our hosts were wonderful, and we miss them already. Jacob was planning our next trip back there before we even left. And in the end I realized even though things were perfect, I was kind of homesick. Being out of my comfort zone really highlighted all the fears I walk around with every day of my life. We were only gone for two days, but it was the longest we've been away from the dogs. It's Saturday monrning as I write this so we've been back for half a day now, but already the memory of the sadness I felt being away from the dogs is fading. I remember talking about it with Zach on the drive home. how we missed the dogs, and pledging with Jacob that we'd be better to Mango. But back here, enclosed in these three and half walls with Mango stealing licks over my shoulder, her eye goop threatening to land somewhere on my person, I'm having trouble getting the feeling back.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that it hit me how really far I will be out of my comfort zone in July, and for a lot longer. And I will be away from my mom. Even though I went to college a few hours away in New Hampshire, I don't think I was ever gone from home for more than two or three weeks. I'm a homebody and I'm a big, fat Mama's girl. I don't think I have ever gone for three weeks without seeing my mom, in my whole life. This is all coming up sooner than July though, because next month my mom and Jamie are making a cross-country trip of their own. They will be gone for three weeks and one day. And I'm not quite sure how I'm going to cope.

Hat Trick

She knows. She knows we are leaving. She knows we are leaving so she snuck upstairs, while I was in the shower, to retrieve the hat which I have now decided will be the hat to replace the hat that replaced thee hat and proceeded to carry it back down the stairs to her ‘spot’ on the carpet, whereupon she took to shredding it. Do you have to ask who I am talking about?

We are driving to Niagara Falls late this afternoon and will be back in 48 hours. This is not so bad. In the time we’ve had the dogs we’ve taken them traveling with us for long weekends and only left them overnight one night. But apparently is it bad enough for Mango that she had to take it out on another one of my hats. She hasn’t chewed anything inappropriate in at least a couple months, and a few hours before we are due to leave Mango chews me hat. Coincidence? I don’t think so.

The trip takes six hours, so basically, we’re going to be driving 1/4 of the time we are gone. But it will be worth it because Zach and his friend are going to the NCAA basketball championship games and during that time Jacob and I will be visiting with our very good friends (whom we are also staying with). And then, when it is all said and done, I will have this as leverage (“You spent how much on the tickets? ”) within my marriage.

Anyway, I’d better finish packing before Mango pulls anymore tricks with my luggage.

March Madness

March is a busy month at Zach's work. They host a ton of basketball tournaments so, naturally, Zach has to be there for most of them. Basically if we want to see him, we have to go there to do it. Or if we want him to come home, we have to go there and drag him out of there. I think for three nights in a row this past week Jacob and I were at the college for at least an hour or two either bringing him dinner, ice skating, or just hanging out.

The other night, after one of the games had just gotten over with, Jacob and I went out to center court to visit with Zach. Then we settled down to read a book, Where's Waldo, so we didn't die from boredom. While we were perusing the pages for that sneeky guy Waldo it suddenly struck me that it was a lot like trying to find Zach in the crowds during a game. When Jacob and I had gotten there earlier that night I remembered remarking to Jacob that we had to look for Zach by trying to find the bright coral colored shirt (see top picture) I knew he was wearing that night.

Just before we'd settled down to read the book, Jacob had gone sprinting across the court, all the way to the other side, and then made a slight adjustment to the curtain marking off the sidelines. He came sprinting back, one hand gripping the waistband of his pants, and quickly explained, "I just had to line that up." And it was all the explanation I needed. There's no one better than me to understand the subtle things that can throw off your day, and the desperate, desperate need to make the adjustments so you can breathe easier, no matter how strange it may seem to others.

I think it was the next night that Jacob and I were there again, and this time we got to ice skate all by ourselves. We'd been going at least once a week in the first half of the season, but then it sort of petered out. Zach reminded me last week that the ice would be coming up soon. I had totally forgotten to prepare Jacob for that. He was really crushed for a couple days. Anyway, if I'm lucky, once a year or so I get to sneek on the ice by myself. The lights were all dim and it was quiet. Jakie and I had a great time skating. He does really well on his own now so there were plently of opportunities to spin around on my own, taking in the thick smell of ice that was in the air. I didn't have the camera with me and was really sad that I wasn't able to get one last picture of us on the ice together. If I had, it would be inserted right here ;-)

On the way out of the sports complex the next night, Jacob wanted to go into the rink to watch the hockey, "Just for a minute." Zach and I were standing there with our stern parent faces one and we were all, "If you go in there then there's no Gilmore Girls when we get home." So Jacob went in anyway, and it occured to me that if it was so important to him to watch the hockey for a minute that he would sacrifice the Gilmore Girls, who was I to force him to make that decision? "What the hell's wrong with us? We're mean parents." I said to Zach. He agreed. We talked about how it was like we were trying to break him, or at least bend his will to suit our own. What's up with that? We're not mean people, why would we do that to our kid? Anyway, we watched far more than one minute, and then we came home to watch some G.G.

Ta-da!

I took the first picture just this morning and all the others last week when it was mostly finished. We thought the bathroom looked good last week but then when Zach put up the shower curtain it really pulled it all together. I'm loving it. We're slowly moving the things from the downstairs bathroom into the new one to prepare for the destruction in the downstairs. But here it is. Something in this house finally got done. Six months it took. Jacob and I went out of town Labor Day weekend 2006 so Zach could get the job done in one weekend. Ha.

"Action Stations, Team!"

This is Jacob right now, in the thick of it. He's really going all out. "Scrambler to Benny (assigns some random job), over and out." Lately he's been getting complex and mixing scenes from Bob the Builder with scenes from the Gilmore Girls. There's a part he loves where Lorelai is about to open her new inn but the doors aren't there yet so she has an elaborate conversation about it with the contractor, Tom. So it's not uncommon now for Tom and the machines to interact in Jacob's world.

The twins are here for a while today and I think this is what is causing Jacob to revert to his little world. I don't like using the word revert because I don't think it so much a place he goes to out of the need for protection, rather it's beginning to seem to me that it's a little like showing off. The twins aren't that interested in playing Jacob's little games, but he's really not that interested in following them either. That suits me fine because these boys are rough. They are into dominating one and other and leaving trails of messes everywhere they go. Everyone's outside now having a snowball fight. I'm impressed at the way the older boys are handling Jacob. They're involving him when he shows interest in participating, yet they are being gentle with him, and not in a patronizing way.

The other night we went to an old friend's house to catch up and there were three other boys there between a few months older and over two years older. These boys like to throw things off the top bunk, compare whose farts are smellier, get themselves into places no child should be crammed, and run down their little sisters anytime the girls get in the path of destruction. I realized that Jacob is not as crazy as I have beent thinking he is. I should be worried that their behavior would rub off on Jacob, but I'm actually more concerned that these boys are going to be the type who grow up to bully my sensitive kid. It's always so weird to see Jacob slip back into himself, like a turtle would into its protective shell, because Jacob is mostly around girls nowadays. He will strut around doing his man work in front of the girls, and although I can't really call it extroverted, it's not the same as when he's around 'big' boys or certain aggressive girls. It's more like an aggressive introversion.

I'm liking that he's getting all this exposure to tough boys though. I don't want it to be a shock to Jacob when he first meets one in the real world. I feel like it will help to balance his personality. For now it's just nice that he still needs me, and be visibly needy in front of other boys. He can call me 'Mommy' and let me come over to fix his mittens or kiss his battle wounds.

The Baby Itch

I held a baby yesterday. A really teeny, tiny one. Jakie and I were at a playgroup at a friend's house and everyone there either said, "Oh Stacey is holding a baby again..." or rolled their eyes or gestured in some other way that indicated they were thinking what the others had said aloud. I guess they know me well. It's nice to be in a group where you have a certain role or a certain identity. I don't think I ever had this before; a group where you can feel comfortable being yourself and you know you're genuinely liked just for being you. Motherhood has given me this; one of the benefits of something I didn't know I wanted for myself at such a young age. But I never had the chance to long for a baby of my own.

Oh, I've always had the baby 'itch'. I've always loved babies, craved to hold them, to be close and breathe in their sweet scent. I remember when I was a kid my mom used to volunteer at a hospital where she'd go and simply hold the preemies, rocking with them for hours on end, giving them the contact their frail bodies needed to thrive. I was so jealous of my mom. I wanted to tag along and hold the babies too. She said I had to be 18 years-old, and I couldn't wait til I turned 18. I knew I'd still want to hold a baby then. And I still do now.

So now that Jacob is a big boy, and it seems everyone I know is pregnant, I find myself having a new feeling: Baby ache. Part of me thinks this is crazy - I'm just getting to a point with Jacob where he takes care of a lot of his own needs and I've got a little bit of life that exists outside of his world. I wonder how we would ever afford another baby, where this new person would even fit into the house, much less our lives. But then I watch Jacob looking at me holding a baby, and I see the pure glee in his eyes. I feel it most strongly then.

I've got her named and everything; yes, her. I have a couple baby name books that I've been reading at night, trying to pick out the perfect middle name. I can't see her face, but I can picture the way she'll look standing in the grass, back to me, free spirit facing the world. Her golden brown curls (to match mine) are blowing in the wind and I think she's either giggling, or looking to the sky in awe. It feels so real now that I'm afraid to wait til after our trip. I'm afraid by then the moment will have passed. I confided this to some of the moms yesterday, and the ones with mulitples assured me it will not go away. That's good to know...but what if it never goes away?

When I'm out shopping, I see items that I want for the baby. The color brown for some reason is really grabbing my attention lately. The craziest part of me takes this as a sign from the little soul that I almost believe must already exist out there somewhere - just waiting to come home, already exerting her influence over me. I talk about it as if it's a life I'm already living. Again, part of me thinks it's crazy to risk messing up the good thing we've got going here with the three of us (and the five non-humans). The other part of me knows I am banking too much on this; I am challenging fate, making room for something to go wrong.

Last time I knew there was no way I could be fully prepared for the tidal wave of motherhood. Jacob was the baby I didn't know would change my life so much for the better; this next baby is one the I am getting ready for. I may not be pregnant yet, but in a way, I am already expecting.

I think I may have found the answer!

The answer to my issues with Mango, that is. Mostly it is that she has an unquenchable desire for attention. If it was something I could give her for a certain amount of time each day, then maybe it would be realistic, but Mango's neediness is unending. Even when I'm trying to give her some love, she's still jumping around, doing the things that she does in order to get you to look at her in the first place. If she'd just hold still she would realize that I'm right there, waiting to administer what she so desperately wants. But by they time I get her butt planted to the ground and her face squished up against something (so she can't lick me), we both lose interest.

Mango is like this huge brute who simply cannot be civilized. She has the strength of a horse and uses it to bully her mom, access the kitchen counter, and chew the shit out of everything in sight. I will say that she's gotten better at recognizing what is hers to chew and what is off-limits. We've come a long way from the days when I was afraid to open the front door after a few hours away. I bought her two new toys a couple days ago; toys that I thought would take months to chew apart. Within a few hours the cat had been lobodomized with scraps of stuffing scattered around the house, and today the canvas-like robes that stick out either side of the rubber tube thing have been offed one by one.

Anyway, the answer to this unending reserve of energy can be found here in this video. And here's where I found it. I get these daily e-mails, they're great tips for green living. I don't ever write much about the 'green' side of my life, but it's there all the time, and I guess has become so integrated in my life that I don't really distinguish it anymore. Just so you know.

A B C, 1 2 3

It seems like I never write about the normal things that Jacob is doing. It's always some big story about the destruction he's causing, or how he's up til all hours of the night. So he knows the letter J. He gets so excited when he sees it. "J for Jacob!" he exclaims. I've been teaching him the other letters one by one. He knows the letters for his middle and last names too. It's so cute to see him get excited about learning stuff like that. Jacob also knows the number 3. His response is the same as it is for J, "3 for Jacob!"

I guess that's all I've got for now, but I should say that I wrote a few notes to myself, stuff I wanted to remember, while I was in bed last night. I was half asleep and writing by the fluorescent glow of the bedside clock so the notes are a little 'off', but one scribble I can make out is: Machines - wanted to take a picture. No idea where I was going with that, but I'm thinking it has something to do with Jacob...

One Last Pity Party

Also at the mall, I stopped by Best Buy to see about the video camera. First of all, it took 10 minutes and two trips to the service counter to get anyone to help me. I've only been in Best Buy a handful of times, and I always had the same experience. Anyway, I had in my mind that I could just get a converter tape to fit the VHS and we could watch the videos of the past year+. Our last video camera was a VHS-C so you can understand where I was coming from. Our recently deceased video camera was a Hi8 (8mm) and the guy explained why they can't be converted like that. At the time it actually made sense to me, but I couldn't repeat exactly why. So basically to watch the videos you have to have the camera to plug into the VCR. He said they advise that you back up your tapes onto VHS or DVD when you're done recording on each one. Well thanks, now I know. There are also 8mm players that you can buy just for the purpose of playing them. He said I could probably get one used for $60-$80. I don't think that's worth it to watch only one year's worth of videos. So I'm at the point where I'm most likely going to pay to have someone (I hear Walmart does it for $19.99...haha) transfer the videos...

Oh to have a vat of sparkles...

Me and Jakie headed out early today for some long-put-off errands at the mall. First on the adgenda was Libby Lu. I've been dying for an excuse to buy something there. It's like the inside a freaking Barbie castle, or what I imagine one to be like. It's all pink and fluff, frills and sparkles; all that represents complete frivolity and shoots straight to the heart of the American Way. The main attraction for me is the giant vat of sparkles when you first walk in. I would just like a little bag of them, just to have and to hold and look at from time to time. I told Danielle later that I realized it's not that I want to have a little girl, but that I want to be a little girl.

It was too much being in there, I couldn't choose between the shirt that read: "J is for Princess" (they come in all 26 to suit your little princess, whatever her name may be), the flowy chiffon scarves, or the pump-your-own bottles of lotion. Ultimately I decided that if I was having that much fun deciding what to get for someone else, then who was I to take that joy away from a little girl. A gift card may sound like a cop-out, but in this case it was hard to leave with nothing to show for my foray into the land of pink. Well, I did get a little sample of Hannah Montana perfume that I am keeping for my very own.

Lost, Then Found

There's been some progress in the bathroom - actually, it's damn-near done. The sink and vanity/cabinet are in and last week I started moving things into them. And then the sink started leaking. Zach had to move said items back out from under the sink so he could take a good look at it. Kevin was here that day visiting and I showed him the upstairs bathroom. He saw the actual, now famous, Q-tips on the floor and even commented, "Is that the container of Q-tips you wrote about?" That was, or shall I say had been, the last time I saw them. I went back out that night, and although I probably didn't realize it until the next day, the Q-tips were not there when I got back.

I have been looking for them high and low since then. I knew exactly what had happened. That kid of mine lept at his chance to get even with me for hiding them on him. Well tonight I was on my hands and knees searching for something else gone missing (the little fingernail scissors, which I have now added to the shopping list, sure to be found as soon as I actually go out and replace them...but isn't that how it always is?) and there they (Q-tips) appeared, right in plain sight under the papazan chair in Jacob's un-bedroom. Oh that little....

The Sick Visit

Had I written about this earlier, like I wanted to, the title was going to be, "The Diarrhea In the Fridge." No, it was not by accident. It was in a little plastic baggie awaiting a trip to the doctor's. Jacob's had diarrhea for a week and a half now. I was treating it the way you're supposed to so I hadn't really needed to consult the doctor's office, but it was getting to be a bit much. So I called today and they told me to come on in. Might not sound like a big deal, but Jacob had never had a sick visit to the doctor. We had a great streak going. Other moms would stare at me wide-eyed in amazement when I told them. "Must be all the breastfeeding," we'd joke. It was a nice little thing to brag about; something to show for keeping my neurosis in check. Damn.

Thank God we don't have to do this a lot because boy was it a production. I had to close at work and my mom was watching Jacob so she and Jamie, along with Marisa, drove out at closing time, helped me clean the place and leave on time, and then my mom came along so she could tell me how to get there (because with only 10 minutes to spare, that was easier than talking me through how to get there from where we were).

Jacob was really good while we were there and I think he really liked the attention. I talked all about the G.I. stuff and brought up a couple other things because hey, if I'm paying a $25 co-pay I want to get my money's worth. Even though it was for Jacob's health, it was painful to write that check...that's how cheap I am. Seriously, the doctor concluded that it's a virus, which is what I have been saying all along, and there's really nothing we can do about it but wait. Fine with me, I just would have rather been told that on the phone, for free. I have to admit though, that I love the laid-back attitude of my doctor's office. Ordinarily I would hesitate to call with a question about Jacob's health because I'd be afraid they'd be all too quick to just tell me to bring him in. Cha-ching. But they're pretty good about talking-down the nervous mom. So I need'nt be concerned with debating whether to call or not as it's unlikely I'll be chancing it that they tell me to come in when I don't really want to shell out the $25.

One of the other things I was asking about was the leg cramps Jacob gets at night; the ones where he kicks the shit of out me trying to get them to go away. "Low iron?" the doctor and I hypothesized. That means having blood drawn. Poor little guy was so brave (me - not so brave - good thing my mom was there). He kept the strong face on while the pretty nurse slowly sucked the courage out of him. To be honest, I think he was in shock, and then when we were back out in the waiting room, the adrenaline leaving his system, Jacob just sobbed and sobbed. A few minutes later he bucked up just long enough to confess that, "That weally huwt..." before breaking down again.

Back at home I offered him some medicine, which he happily agreed to. "But the good kind," he ordered, meaning 'not Benadryl', i.e. the kind parents secretly hope their kids are sick enough for from time to time. Well, with our first sick visit over with I can only hope now that Jacob never needs antibiotics, just so I'll still have something brag about.

Countdown: A day shy of 17 weeks

We are taking a trip! We never take real trips or vacations. That's fine with me, I'd rather spend our non-existent money on more vital things. But this year we are driving across the country. I think it first became an idea over a year and a half ago when we had to drive to NC for a wedding. We liked it. We had fun. And somewhere along the line we came up with the idea of driving across the country. Jacob was a year and a half then and we figured that if we waited til this summer he would be, A) mature enough to stay for that long in the car; B) old enough to possibly remember the trip, or parts of it; and C) if we waited much longer past that point I would either be pregnant or we'd have a newborn and who would we be kidding to think that a cross-country trip would be a viable option in a sane person's world in either of those scenarios.

Our current level of progress/committment is as follows:

~ I started saving money for the trip back in September. Whenever we've got extra I tuck it away in a little envelope (in my mother's care, of course, as I am not to be trusted with any kind of liquid assest). Hey, if the trip doesn't work out, we can either have another addition to the house, or there'll be one big shopping spree!

~ Zach requested the time off from work last month, and three weeks ago we firmed up the date to align with a certain family event in a certain city on a certain date (June 30th).

~ Two weeks ago I checked out a bunch of books and videos on different areas that we want to visit. We watched the Yellowstone video that night and told Jacob all about Old Faithful, explaining what geysers are (oops, and I just learned how to spell geyser) - and none of the video/books have been touched since, yet have racked up some steep late fees.

~ Last week we made a special trip to my mom's so Zach could peruse the road atlas. He made a list of 13 states for which I have been given the tast of picking up maps for from AAA. Montana is all he has talked about since.

~ Lastly, back in December an RV contact of Zach's offered us free use of an RV. This one I am banking in the 'Too Good to Be True' category for now.

Welp, stay tuned for updates as I tackle the tricky business of planning, arranging care for the dogs and rabbits, and packing...and certainly expect updates from the road!

Still missing the video camera.

I've said it at least once a day. "I wish I had a video camera." I pined away last night when Jacob was strutting around doing his best rendition of a construction worker (which we're not so sure he thinks an act, but more of real life) for my mom and Jamie. My words fail me when I try to describe the way he gets, the look in his eyes, the seriousness of it all. The only way I can capture it is on video, and now...

I love the way Jacob talks. I want to capture every little mispronounciation before he picks up on the subtle nuances to this language of ours. The little lisp he's got, the funny twist he adds to certain words - the ones I never correct because I want to keep them for my very own - and the things he says that no one else understands keep him all mine for just a little longer. I want to bottle these things up and save them for when I'm old and grey.

I longed for it today when I was playing outside with Jacob and the dogs. I was throwing a stick around for Mango and she was sliding all over the solid sheet of ice that is our backyard. It was a sight to behold and would have been just as funny on video. Oh well. I was headed inside to get my skates so I could lace them up and let loose in the backyard when I remembered that they're at the college. At least I had the option to do something else. I would have been video taping if I could. And in it's place I normally would have been taking pictures. But now it's like a picture won't even do because it's just a still, sad reminder of something that could have been recorded in all its visual motion splendor.

It was actually a relief to not be taking pictures, to not have the constant pressure of having to chose between either living in a moment, or recording it. I can't get it all, can't have my cake and eat it too, so why bother trying? Come to think of it, I have been taking a lot less pictures lately. I have actually been leaving the house without my camera strap looped round my neck and tossed under my left arm. This video camera thing...is it possible it was not an accident? Could there have been some divine intervention here? I can't be sure. Just as long as no one claims Bob told them to do it.