Sabine: Month Three

Dear Sabine,

Today you are three months old! Today I held a baby who is one week old, and I talked to a mom who has eight kids. Her oldest is turning 16 today. It was kind of weird to be in that experience because it was all happening at the same time. The mom with her one week old to my right, the mom pregnant with her ninth just to my left, and everyone's milestone on the same date. It was almost like a metaphor for how fast your life is already zipping by. Yesterday you were just born and tomorrow you will be a teenager.

As I sat in that moment, looking down at you curled up in my lap, it occurred to me that you are no longer a new baby. You are a little person. You have a developing personality and definite preferences about how you want to approach the world. And it is clear to me that you will not take this life sitting down. It seems you always want to be standing up, with just the minimal amount of help from me, your fists wrapped tightly around my fingers. You want to see everything that is going on. You're getting taking it all in, getting ready for the time when you can participate.

It's also clear to me that you are here to teach us something about life. Being happy, mellowing out, going with the flow, are just some of the things you seem to have an innate ability for, yet from you I'm also learning how to sleep soundly and the importance of getting to bed when it's time, and that a little bit of structure and routine don't have to be bad things. You are a wise soul. It seems whatever we are doing, you have this serenity about you. Serene Sabine.

You sleep well, but also, in the years since Jacob was a baby I think I've learned a little about how babies sleep. Mothering my first baby was sort of like fumbling along and making it up based on my instincts as I went along. You are helping me put all the pieces together. You sleep with you arms above your head, with absolute confidence that you'll be taken care of and protected during the night. I hope to use your example to help me put a little more faith back into my experience of the world. And when you do wake up you just make little sucking noises to alert me - always sucking your hand, someone's arm, the air, Jacob's face when he sticks it near you to be funny.

You rarely have to cry because somehow we've got this great communication. You give a little call and I come, then the smiles start. I am always, always greeted by you with a smile, as are most people. It is such a joy to see your absolute happiness with just being here. I'm so glad you're here and I love nothing more than to look into yours eyes and see those familiar features gazing back at me.

There's no turning back now

Zach's cousin works in NYC and often gets perk tickets to Yankee Stadium. He had four tickets for this past Wednesday's game and gave them to Zach. And you know where the seats where? Fifth row behind the Yankee dugout. Zach looked it up online...those are $400 seats, $1600 total.

Initially I told Zach he'd better not even think of taking Jacob down there...but we eventually worked out a deal and Jacob did go with him. Zach's mom and Alex also went with them. I was totally freaked out the week leading up to the game, and I cried when they left. It's the furthest I ever been away from Jacob, distance-wise. I am not crazy about the city and the protective part of me basically thought I would never see them again. They had a great time though. It was really important for Zach to take Jacob because they had such awesome seats, and because it was one of the very last games to be played at Yankee Stadium before they tear it down.

Back at home I had a very quiet day. I went to turn on the game at 7pm and found out it wasn't on network TV like it had been the night before. Nobody bothered to tell me that beforehand so I didn't get to watch the game. I could have gone up to my mom's to watch it but they taped it instead. I was psyched to watch the game because I was sure Jacob would be one of those cute kids that they put on TV in between innings. We tried to watch the tape tonight but something went wrong and it's just fuzz. Guess we need to get tivo. Jamie watched the game and didn't say he saw Jacob, but Jacob is a seriously cute kid and I can't believe they wouldn't have him on camera at some point, considering where they were sitting.

So anyway, it's official, Jacob has been to the world of Yankees and back...and he is now a fully devoted fan. There's no turning him over to my side now. Maybe Sabine with be a Boston fan.

On the upside, when we went to the park the next day Jacob played baseball with Jeter and the rest of the team instead of going to a job site with Spud, so that was a nice little break from all that for me.

Alex walked Jacob up to the dugout during batting
practice and one of the players tossed him a ball.

This is my personal favorite. Zach said he took
this photo for me - he knows me well.

And this is my favorite of the ones with Jacob
in them. Classic.


The boys showed up at home at 1:30am.
Jacob came in, told me a few highlights, then
passed out on the floor like this.

These last two pictures are zoomed in pretty far. I wondered how Zach could get in so close, and then he pulled a telephoto lens out of the bag. He bought it last week when he found out about

the tickets and surprised me with the lens after they came home from the game. I'm kind of in shock about it. I don't deserve it or feel like I've earned it because I didn't spend half a year saving up for it. I guess that's my reward for being a brave little mother and letting my baby go to the big bad city.

My Two Sons

Yesterday at the midwife's office I was checking out when the receptionist told me, "Your son is so cute!" I thought, That's a refreshing change for Jacob, everyone is oogling over Beanie these days that he doesn't get any attention independent of her. The lady went on some more about my son, and then I replied with some detail about Jacob. "Oh he's cute too, but I was talking about your other son."

First let me say that I am not bothered by this, and I don't really care beyond it being very curious that people are confusing Sabine for a boy. I also recognize the fact that I do dress her in Jacob's old clothes a lot. So I am not complaining that people get her sex wrong, and maybe I even ask for it by putting her in blue sometimes, but really...take away the pink hat, does she even look like a boy?


And I know, I know, they all look them same at this age anyway - I've always said it myself. But from the time she was born people have been saying she even looks like a girl! In the beginning a few people mistakenly called her a boy, but she was all curled up then anyway. But just in the last week, or even few days, all of a sudden EVERYONE in public mistakes her for a boy. Sometimes she'll be wearing blue and they just go based on the color. Do you know how much that pisses me off? It's just a color! I reply to them, "Oh but she looks so pretty in blue, can't girls wear blue?" Other times, like yesterday in the waiting room, she had on girly overalls and was covered by a very pink blanket. So even with pink on they still think she's a boy.

Today at the orchard she had on purple overalls with a little blue onesie underneath. It was mostly purple you could see, but the woman still called her a boy. I try to be polite and mix the correction in with another sentence and I don't make them feel bad. Like today - "Oh he's so cute, how old is he?" - "She's 12 weeks," I reply. Then the lady realizes her mistake and says, "Oh, well she's wearing blue." Yeah, but she had ten times as much purple covering the blue. Or the other day when I was getting my hair cut. The lady inquired about my baby boy, I told her it's a girl...then she says that she thought Sabine was a boy because she was wearing brown. It was, infact, brown - actually my favorite onesie - but it had a bow and puffy sleeves. And whoever decided that brown is a boy color?

A little while ago Beanie's doctor's office called. Now these people have never gotten the sex or pronounciation of her name correct...and they have her medical history right in front of them! Today: "blah, blah, blah, Sabe - ian...blah, blah, he...blah." Or the last time they called, "Sab - ine" (like line), and the time before that, "Sab - in". There's also Sab-ian, Say-bine (long I). And yes, I asked for it with naming her that too.

I'm just saying...

Dear Diary: 9/15/08

I was sitting up in bed early this morning nursing Beanie when Zach walked in. "In the middle of the night did you get up and hand the baby to me because I said I couldn't get her from the angle she was at in the co-sleeper?" He didn't think he did so I asked him if he was sure...he thought maybe that could have happened.

Cuz I woke up with the her next to me and I didn't know how she got there but I had a vague recollection of the scenario I described to Zach. She'd been making these little grunty sounds and I thought I had a minute to take my time and wake up because she was in the co-sleeper. Somewhere along the line I realized she was next to me in the crook of my arm. I came-to and realized the blanket was covering her face a little bit and that's why she was all grunty. This is something people who argue against co-sleeping cite as problematic. The thing is, I tuned in and took care of the situation. And I'm not going to roll over on Beanie and smother her, even if I'm in auto-mode in the middle of the night, on some level I'm completely aware of where the baby is in relation to me and we're in sync. Also, people've got to realize that a baby is not going down without a fight. They're going to flail about and shriek and let you know you're crushing them, and unless a person is totally drunk or drugged-up, they're going to wake the hell up and realize what's happening.

Anyway, this is not what I meant to journal about: My point is I am losing my mind. Not my mind per say, but my memory. I am having these almost blackout-like moments. And they are happening everyday. I go through entire portions of my day on auto-pilot where I have no recollection of them later. I am turning into Zach is what it is. And that is scary because I have always been the one with the memory. The one who remembers to set the alarm clock, who takes care of the calendar stuff, the one who remembers where random possessions were last seen, the one who always has the exact item you need when you're out on the road - whether it be sewing kit, band aid, extra snack - when you think we're out of mayonnaise, just check the cupboard because chances are I've already taken care of it. The reliable one. Every household needs a reliable one. It's the glue that holds a family unit together.

More than the fact that the 'glue' seems to be drying out, the idea that parts of my brain may be slipping away from me permanently is what's really scary. I'm assuming that it's the fact of the newborn occupying our house that my mind is failing me, but what if it is just me and not my lack of sleep? What if it's my age? What if it never comes back?

I was really sick the end of last week into the weekend. I couldn't catch a break, take a rest. Saturday morning I probably felt worse than the two days before. I didn't think I could make it to Cory's baby shower, but on I went. When we were leaving I told Mom that I didn't feel as tired out as I thought I'd be. Then I realized that it was because Jacob had stayed with Jamie. Even though I wasn't in bed, I had a three hour break from the one thing in my life that requires the most energy. It's not the new baby that is making me exhausted, but the older child who's suddenly become a tornado of endless energy in light of the new baby. I expend an enormous amount of energy on Jacob. He is totally worth it though.

Despite being exhausted, I realize that I am happier than I have ever been. I am so lucky in my life. I have great friends, a great husband, beautiful kids, and even though I'm not always happy with my country, I'm really lucky to be living here.

The baby head

I went to a baby shower yesterday. The centerpieces on the table were baskets with cupcakes in them. The cupcakes were topped with marzipan babies. They were very cute, actually. I took a picture of it before it was eaten, but I accidentally deleted it. Here is the remains of my mom's cupcake. You can see the head, as well as the little 'pillow' and 'blanket'.

I took mine home to give to Jacob...thought he'd get a kick out of the marzipan baby. I also added the leftover head from my mom's cupcake, making it twins, or a two-headed baby, whichever you prefer. Back at home Jacob popped the first baby right in his mouth and let it slowly dissolve. Then he ate the cupcake. I mistakenly threw out the pink blanket after I took a bite and decided it must have been made out of actual blanket.

And don't you know, after all that sugar consumption, Jacob suddenly becomes maternal. He couldn't bring himself to eat that second baby head. I caught him hidden away in a dark corner of the house sneaking the head into a little baggie. I am forbidden from getting rid of it.

It appears he took a little nibble of the mouth, then thought better of it and packaged the poor dear away. "Make sure the pillow stays under her head!" he yelled as I was setting her back down after taking the picture. This reminds me of the parenting class in high school where they make you carry around a flour bag baby for a week (this didn't actually happen to me, but they always do it on TV).

I'd say this is a clear case of maternal instinct gone awry.

Jacob's been lying a lot lately...

A lot. I can't trust anything he says nowadays. He pulled another stunt with all the spices and crap, mixing them in a cup this time. I was outside with a visitor and came to the door to yell into him. When I asked, Jacob assured me he was doing "nothing", which is my cue to immediately investigate the goings on. Sure enough, it had been another lie. He was not, in fact, eating a banana, but he was doing a repeat of the great glop incident. Tonight I found an empty bottle of vanilla extract in the cupboard. Hadn't known that went into the batch the other day. I went ape shit again. Do you know how much a bottle of vanilla extract costs these days?

So tonight Jacob asked if he could have one of the items back from the giant bag - I'd had it with the behavior a few weeks ago and put half his toys away until he shaped up. We then had a talk about the recent lying. He says he'll throw the lying out. I said great, get it all out of your body and make sure it never comes back. Then I turned around to leave the room, and I guess he decided it was confession time because he said, "Mommy! I peed in Ginger's bowl and poured it down the toilet, then scrubbed it all out."

Gag.

You call that Talent??

I don't watch a lot of TV, especially reality TV or talent/game shows, but I did watch America's Got Talent the other day. My mom and Jamie had it on at Camp a couple weeks ago so I saw one episode when they were going from 40 to 20 contestants. I saw the kid who impersonates Elvis that night. He sucked. No chance was he coming back. So you can imagine my surprise when I turned on the TV the other night because I am currently sicker than a dog and I felt like vegging out for once - and I saw the Elvis kid on again.

The show was just starting when I turned on the TV. I probably would have just skipped over the channel but since I'd seen the show once before I stopped there. There were a few acts and I'm getting the idea that this is an almost identical show to American Idol. There's the mean judge with the British accent that they apparently have to have on every talent show now. What's his name, Pierce or something? Well he doesn't like anyone, even the people who are good. But then Elvis gets up there, sucks some shit on stage, and I'm ready for the Brit to rip into him. He likes him! He thinks he's great. WHAT??! Guess what, Sharon and David Hasslehoff think he's great too.

All I have to say is You Have Got To Be Kidding Me! I think the show must be rigged.

Camp: Journal Style

Friday: I’m getting better at packing for two kids. We only left two hours later than expected. The ride was good, I sat in the back and did a little reading in between all the dealing with the kids. Jacob all the way up there - “When are we gonna be there??” He used to be so good in the car. I hope this is just a phase.

Saturday: I was nervous about the night because this is my first time night-parenting two kids by myself. Zach stayed home that week I came up with both kids, but the kids and I stayed in the same bed with Mom so she sort of helped through the night. I had to get Jacob up two times to pee because I forgot his pullups! He stayed dry though. Maybe this is the way to get him going through the night without peeing the bed…maybe the pullups signal to his body that it’s ok to pee and we should just ditch them all together. They certainly do suck as it is. If I'm going to be washing sheets anyway, why bother paying for the leaky pullups?

Uncle Bill brought up this rocket to shoot off at Camp. He had to build it first. It was a big to-do assembling it and then there was all this build up leading to shooting it off. We’re all standing around waiting with the cameras and you had to know it was going to happen…there was a ‘technical difficulty’ and while the guys were tooling around with the controls, trying to figure it out, that’s when it went off and all the cameras that has been at the ready missed the action. Then, apparently the wind was in a different direction than we’d thought so instead of landing in the nearby field, the parachute opened and floated right into the tree tops. I climbed the adjacent tree a ways but we all realized that that wasn’t going to work and we’d have to wait for the wind to blow it down.

Later on Jamie came in rushing to the bathroom and gagging about the poop he’d gotten all over himself. He had pet Ginger outside at dusk and didn’t see the poop all over her. She was tied up on the rope so I’m figuring she took a dump and then rolled all in it.

I had to wash her off in the dark and couldn’t see what I was doing. If it was light out I could have taken her out to the sandbar and washed her there, but no, I couldn’t have been that lucky. When I was done cleaning Ginger off with hand soap and a scrub brush in the dark I headed inside to soak Beanie’s onesie that her butt exploded all over, and then Jacob’s poopy underwear. This is my life; cleaning up poop.

Today was such a full day that I can't remember when it happened, but Beanie ROLLED OVER from her stomach to her back. I'm so proud of my girl rolling over so early.

Sunday: Jacob woke up dry again, after a couple nighttime trips to pee.

We went to church. Even though it's a mile from Camp in a town that boasts a whopping fifty residents, there were three times as many people at the service than there were last week at my church. I noted that the minister was a woman and the organist was a man. At one point in the service she started talking to Jacob and offered him a craft. She came back to where we were sitting and gave out the supplies. The minister apologized for not having any markers and told Jacob, "You can go home and decorate it with things that you like...You wouldn't decorate it with girl stuff like pink poodles (laughing), put things on there that you like to play with, boy stuff." I calmly sat there with my jaw tensed, and by God if we hadn't been in a church...

I found it ironic that the minister was spouting sexist remarks when she's occupying a traditionally male role. After the service she told me that she has 5 kids with a rather large range in age - the youngest just 7 months. That strikes me as remarkably similar to Governor Palin.

We headed into town to wash diapers and go to the store. The laundromat is a fun place to go when you’re feeling crappy about yourself, especially when you walk in with a baby. All kinds of dirty people like to come up to you and touch your baby. And then the freaky teenager with all the zits tells you “that’s a nice looking baby!” and your grip on her tightens. I always leave feeling better about myself because at least I have all my teeth.

Aunt Nancy is obsessed with all things Disney an Disney-like movies. She put in a movie, a version of the Princess and the Pea, with Carol Burnett and Tracey Ullman, to watch. I. really. hate. musicals.

The rocket is still stuck in the tree.

Monday: It's freezing in here in the mornings when I get up with Beanie at 6am. I can't start a fire in this damn wood stove to save my life - literally, haha, because I might freeze to death.

I took Mango out to the island to run around the sand bar. I finally decided that Ginger was going to come too so I forced her into the row boat. I was feeling kind of bad about that, but when we got to our destination she took off like a bullet and had a blast running around the island with Mango. I figured it's the perfect place for her to run around because on land she's got to be tied up, but where was she going to run off to in the middle of a lake?

I spent 4 hours at the stove in the kitchen making eggplant parm. I made three pans of it for everyone. Uncle David came over and all of us had dinner together. The eggplant was freaking good. I should sell it!

Tuesday: I guess I got cocky. I was so tired from the nighttime ratio (1 parent:2 kids) that I only took Jacob to pee once through the night. 5am rolls around and I'm changing bed sheets, peeling wet jammies off Jacob's limp body. Not only did he pee the things that go under him, but he also soaked the things that are supposed to be on top of a person when they're sleeping because of the 'kicking off of the covers'. So I sent the bed pad, sheets, and comforter home with Aunt Nancy and Uncle Bill because there won't be room in our car when we drive home.

I was hanging out in the living room with Sabine, who was laying on a blanket on the floor. Mom came in and decided to take a seat. Beanie started 'hitching', as Mom calls it, all over the floor, getting some actual distance from where she started out on the blanket. I picked her up and moved her back after she'd made it off the blanket. Then she got all like she was going to roll over from her BACK to her FRONT. She hiked up her knees to her chest then tossed herself to her left side. She was stuck on her elbow and kept lolling back and forth. Then all of a sudden she pushed right over her elbow! Ho-ly crap. Mom and I just sat there with our mouths agape. That's early for rolling over, especially the harder way. Jacob rolled at three months and Beanie is just past two months now.

Wednesday: I can't take it anymore. It's 6am and I'm so tired. Zach told me last night he misses the kids so much. Jacob all the time and Beanie in the early morning hours when they have their 'special time' which I prefer to think of as 'the morning freaks bonding time'. I told Zach, "Funny, that's when I miss you the most." The bad news is that both kids are up this early today. The good news is that Jacob woke up dry. Woohoo! Down with the pullups!

The rocket is still stuck up in the tree...

Dear Jacob: July/August 2008

Dear Jacob,

This was supposed to be July's post, but we were rushing to leave for Camp, to surprise you and I never had time to finish. Then we got back from our weekend away and there was catching up to be done and it got pushed down on the priority list. Then we left for Camp again and I swore it would be done. Well now we're back and it's definitely getting done. I can't say it's going to be organized though. In fact, it's probably going to be a little disorganized and rambling. The only kind of order is going to be chronological, the way I recorded the notes. There may be be some repeats and tenses go back and forth, but this all just goes to show how chaotic our lives have been lately.

July and August were characterized by the 'dirty face' that I so hate, the sudden violence, the constant movement. I think this may be what stands out for me as the four year old thing - the constant movement. The jumping on things, jumping onto things, jumping off of things, running around, climbing things, hitting, being grabby. You've been a flurry of movement, like the Tazmanian Devil.

The acting up got out of control since the baby was born. I hate the dirty face so much that sometimes I want to slap it away. You're so stressed out that you grind your teeth like mad at night. I think the one thing you need most is to be still with your parents, be given attention with no mention of the baby, for us to act like she doesn't exist.

For a few days we'd been able to give you more individual attention and it did wonders for your behavior. When you act up I remind you that you don't have to act up to get attention, to use your words and we'll give you what you need. You've been getting better at that, and I've been getting better at listening to you and stopping what I'm doing to give you the attention you're craving.

You love your little sister. When you're doing something particularly 'grown up' or dare-devilish, you want me to hold her up so she can watch you and learn from you. One morning in bed I caught you leaning over whispering in her ear "I love you so much" when you didn't think I could hear you. You're starting to sing these little sing-song ditties, which I think is related to the soft, high-pitched voice you use with Beanie.

We'd been swimming a lot this summer and you were getting better and better. You were asking to take off your swimmies, so one day in MamMa's pool we did. And then you were suddenly swimming on your own! You paddle around fast and furious and the swimmies haven't gone back on. I can't believe you can swim like that now, I'm so proud of you!

Then there was the night mid-August when you first told me you hate me. It was 11pm and I wouldn't let you play your Caillou game on the computer. Even though it was about something stupid, it still felt like an arrow through my heart. You said, "I'll get mad if you don't let me play it and I'll be happy if you do." I think this was when the threats began.

You've also been really into your 'man parts'. And if I haven't already embarrassed you I'll also say that you went through a short phase of 'marking your territory'. And I'll leave it at that until you come home with a new girlfriend someday and I need to come up with a really good story to tell.

When you were a tiny baby we said, "Oh, this is the best age." And then we kept saying it for each new phase of your development. All your stages were the best at one point, but not this one. This is the first time I have felt myself longing for an earlier time. It's your little punk phase. You've been really learning a lot of crap from Marisa, most notably, that pose from Hannah Montana when you watched it with her one day. Then there was the middle finger issue which I think we were able to stamp out within two or three days of its inception. I don't think you know what it means, and I don't know where the actual gesture came from, but sadly, I have to admit that part of your awareness about it came from within our house.

And lastly, by far the one thing that occupies your brain energy the most is your fantasies and imaginary play are all about Spud. You and Spud did this, you and Spud did that. You and Spud are going to build something, you and Spud are going to destroy something, play a joke on someone, you guys ate a certain something for lunch, you're going to start a farm with him. Anything you can imagine. I wish I could say I'd written down some of your conversations with him or about him because they're really something, but I am unashamed to say that I have began tuning them out and responding with, "Oh really?", "Uh huh," and neutral statements as such.

To end the month, I am extremely happy to report that you have begun to come back to us, and it has made me so happy.

At a playgroup a couple weeks ago you were being absolutely, downright mean to me (as you had taken to being). I don't believe I've ever left a playgroup early because of your behavior. You don't usually act like that in front of other people, and also, I'm too selfish, I don't want to leave so I never threaten it. You were talking back to me, hitting me, running away when I told you to stay put...all the things you'd been doing. And I snapped. I said that was it, we're leaving, picked up our bag, the baby and walked to the gate. You suddenly turned into the sweet little boy I know and started begging me to stay but I held firm (I never threaten something if I don't plan to follow-through) and we left.

Things only got worse when we got home and I went off the hook taking things away from you. You lost your Scoop tent, your tool bench, all your tools, a ton of other stuff. I put it in big bags and told you that every time you were mean to me or acted out such as you had been that you would lose one thing from the bag permanently. Each time you've exhibited good behavior (without the getting back your toys) I give one back.

I don't think it was necessarily taking away most valuable possessions, but more the fact that you were waiting to see where I would draw the line and I finally showed you. Not that I hadn't snapped in all the weeks before that, I guess I just got it right that time. Of course things are not perfect now, but they immediately got better. It's like I chased the beast that possessed you right out of your system. You've come back to us in a big way and it feels like a thousand pounds have been lifted from my heart.