Made in Richmond

We’re a month into JR’s new routine of going to day care and my new routine of being in the office 3 1/2 (give or take) days a week.

I must say, things are going swimmingly. Aside from that whole missing an entire week due to a cold/ear infection that caused a ruptured ear drum. Details, details.

While some days I hate (hate, hate, hate, haaaaate) dropping him off, overall, we are handling things well. He typically cries when we leave, but I can hear him stop as soon as the door shuts. He also cries when we go to pick him up, but on a few occasions I’ve been able to sneak in without him seeing me, so I know that he waits to turn the waterworks on until he realizes that we’re there. I think he just forgets that he misses us, what with all of the learning and playing and fun-having he’s doing.

I do ok most days. His day care center is within walking distance of our office — something that is both good and bad. Good in that I can get there in 2 minutes if I need to, but bad in that… well, I can get there in 2 minutes if I need to. The building is just sitting there, taunting me all day long.

But the absolute best outcome of our new situation is that I no longer spend the time we are together feeling pulled in two directions. I feel much less guilty about making myself unavailable to work-related tasks in the evening because I’ve been able to invest quite a reasonable chunk of time to those during the day. I’m a better worker, and a better mother because I don’t feel like those two roles are constantly in conflict.

Plus, that “Mama, Mama, Mama, Mama!” I get when I go pick him up is pretty awesome.

Last week JR’s class had “Wacky Wednesday.” While I’m sure this event was planned purely for the teaching staff’s enjoyment, we played along because, come on, who doesn’t want to see 13 toddlers dressed like idiots?

Well, JR doesn’t, apparently.

(I understand that a striped blazer, plaid shirt, and sweatpants aren’t crazy-wacky, but hey, we wear boring clothes over here. It was the best we could do.)

JR,

Ohhh, baby boy, it’s been an interesting month. A great one, but interesting.

The biggest change was you starting day care. Overall you’re doing well. You’re still having some trouble napping since you’re used to snoozing away in a quiet house, as opposed to a room filled with other little ones. Your teacher assures me that it just takes a while and pretty soon you’ll be conked out like the rest of them. You seem to like being with the other kids. One of your teachers even said to me, “He’s been in day care before, hasn’t he?” I figured that’s a good sign.

However, I must point out that these day care observations are based on just a little over a week there. You spent your entire second week at home, thanks to a nasty cold and double ear infection. I have to tell you, that week was the hardest week your father and I have ever had. You just cried and cried and cried, you wouldn’t eat, and you were just not yourself at all. That combined with the usual work obligations (that had to be completed with you either on my lap or wrapped around my arm) made things very stressful. To top it all off, I was fighting off a stomach bug AND a cold while helping you get better - not easy to do when you were up every two hours. But, you’re on the upswing now and we’ve gotten to see some smiles and finally hear you laugh. I swear, you didn’t giggle for six straight days.

All kinds of skills are popping up these days. You are fascinated with putting things on shelves - books, toys, your shoes, etc. You’re also developing an interesting habit of tucking your half-full milk cups into cabinets and we don’t find out about it until much later.

Bath time is still really fun. We can finally rinse your hair without you screaming (every time, at least) and you’ve recently gotten brave enough to blow some bubbles in the water! You look so proud of yourself when you do that, and it’s really quite adorable.

Books continue to be the joy of your life. You will sit still for much longer than you used to, sometimes letting me read four or five books in a row! You love turning pages and pointing at the pictures.

Your vocabulary is continuing to grow, although I’m not sure if people other than us would understand you. You definitely have nicknames for things; all blankets are “bee bees” and bananas are “mannies.” You also LOVE to say “Mama” these days, so I’m about as happy as can be. And we get to hear “please” (”beeeeeees!”) and “thank you” (”teek-oo”) often, which makes us very proud. You’re also understanding so much of what we say and can follow multiple directions when we give them to you.

Perhaps the best thing about you these days is how cuddly you’ve become (something that seems to have come with day care and being sick). You love to curl up with me on the couch or in bed and you’re always ready for a hug and a kiss, sometimes giving the to us without being asked. You’re so damn sweet it kills me. My sweet boy, this rumble-tumble little creature full of so much joy and excitement and wonderfully raw emotions, I just can’t get enough of you.

Love,

Mama

Stage 1: Breeziness

Hmm, he feels a little warm. You know, he was a little sniffly and crabby today. Let’s just give him some Motrin and put him down early. He’ll be fine tomorrow. My, didn’t we handle that well?

Stage 2: Panic

Is he wheezing? I think he’s wheezing. Did you take his temperature? 103? What do we do? Can you call your mother? Please call your mother. I’m going to keep redialing the doctor’s office until they open so we can schedule an appointment. Is he wheezing?

Stage 3: Mutual hatred

You think you’re tired? *I’M* tired. How many times have you sucked the snot out of his head today? Oh yeah, well I don’t really care if you’re stressed out. We’re all going through this so SHUT UP. That’s it, no more babies.

Stage 4: Solidarity

Babe, I’m so glad you’re here. I would never be able to do this without you. I feel like we have the same bond that P.O.W.’s do, ya know? We can get through this. We will get through this and be so much stronger for it. Babe, babe, I love you. I just…I just love you (please don’t leave me alone with the shrieking child oh God).

Stage 5: Euphoria

He’s laughing! He’s eating! He’s smiling! Remember how awful that was? Oh, he’s so perfect. And you’re wonderful. No *you’re* wonderful. No, no *you’re* wonderful.

It’s been a rough few days.

Last Wednesday JR started showing signs of a wicked case of the grumps. We assumed it was teeth (which wasn’t completely off), gave him some Motrin and went about our business.

The grumps continued steadily until Saturday evening. And then Saturday evening marked the beginning of a multi-day crying streak that has yet to cease.

The child is sick. SIIIIIIIIIICK. Sick in a way that has made up for the complete lack of sick we have experienced in the almost 15 months he’s been with us. Fever, cough, crying, runny nose, runny eyes (yes, babies can leak snot out of their eyes - I didn’t know that either and it’s just as horrifying as it sounds), crying, not wanting to eat, crying, only wanting to be held, crying, the works. He’s also waking up a couple times a night, shrieking for someone to wipe to boogers out of his eyes or suck the snot out of his head because, hello, we wakes up not being able to see or breathe.

(I told Ross that it’s all reminding me way too much of what life was like with a newborn. I hope this doesn’t ruin JR’s chances for ever getting a sibling. It’s possible.)

But what’s worse is that he is just not himself. There are no animal noises, no shouting of “THIS,” and not one single laugh. Not even a giggle. It’s depressing.

Meanwhile, I’ve become a mad woman. I haven’t left the house for more than two hours in six days. I can’t go to work. I can’t sleep because I lie awake anticipating the whimper from the next room. My work is so half-assed it’s ridiculous. And I’m being mean to everyone.

So, be patient with me (although I doubt I would be patient with you if we met in person because RAWR). I’ll be back soon.

The throwing thing is definitely a skill he acquired from a classmate. We’re working on it.

Courtesy of Susan.

Please excuse the ponytail. His hair has gotten out of control and is driving me crazy.

For the past few months we’ve kind of been in limbo in regards to child care.

We’ve had three (THREE!) babysitters since October. Each one of them was helping us out while looking for a more permanent, full-time job. And what do you know? Every last one of them found one. Do you want to know how to solve the unemployment problem in this country? Anyone looking for a job should come spend five minutes with JR. They will be employed in a matter of days.

So, daycare it is.

After many (many, many, good Lord, so many) phone calls, we managed to track down a center at a local church that we’re comfortable with AND will not put us in the poorhouse. Well, not the really crummy poorhouse, anyway. The nicer poorhouse.

This will mean a change to my working schedule. Instead of 2 days in the office and working from home the rest of the week, I’ll have 3 1/2 to 4 days in the office (and more if necessary). This new schedule will free me up in the evening (somewhat), making our time together less of a struggle of what wants to get done and what needs to get done. And with JR now being a one-nap man (!) that struggle was going to inevitably get more and more tense.

But more so than the logistical things, this is kind of a world-shift for JR who has spent every day of his life just hanging out with adults. He’ll be in a class where they have circle time. He’ll have a little nap mat and a cubby with things in it. He’ll have friends.

To me, this situation pretty much encompasses what this whole parenting gig is about: hard choices, being brave, and letting go a little bit so your kid gets the chance to come into his own.

Yes, this is good. But, oh my, how I will miss him.

JR,

Monday night you were having a hard time falling asleep. We’d had a busy day, your afternoon nap had been cut short thanks to a barking dog, and your evening routine was a little wonky thanks to some unexpected work I had to take care of.

When your dad put you in your crib you screamed. And screamed. And screeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaamed. I went in there a couple times to pat you on your back and calm you down. No dice. Finally, after a particularly raging scream, I picked you up and carried you over to the rocking chair.

You are not a cuddly child. But this time you just folded into me, tucked your blanket under your chin, and let out a long, relieved sigh. We sat like that for about 30 minutes. When I put you down, you went right to sleep.

I guess you just needed your Mama. And I was so proud to be that for you.

While I’ve loved you since I knew you were coming, for some reason, I’ve been feeling it so much this month - physically, almost, chest pains and all.

I think it’s because we’re finally getting to get a peek of who you are. New quirks and skills are popping up almost on a daily basis, and I hate to even miss a minute of it.

One special event that happened this month is that you got to spend time with your second cousins Sidney and Kellan. You met them a few weeks after you were born, but obviously you weren’t doing much then. It was fun to see you all play together because I remember having so much fun playing with their mama (my cousin) when we were little. When Kellan saw you he said “Hi, Baby.” Then he took your hand and led you over to show you his trains.

(As you can see, we only allow blond children into our family.)

Your biggest skill these days is walking. You’re all over the place, but you listen very well and don’t get into things too often. Except the plants. You love the plants. Particularly the dirt they come with.

Another completely adorable skills is brushing dirt off of your hands. I don’t know why this is so cute, but it kills me.

Your babbling is constant and hilarious. New words include “thank you” (more like “kank-oo”) and some sort of variation of “Cockadoodledoo.” Still no Mama, but lots of “Dad-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”

The separation anxiety is pretty apparent these days, but mostly just in the evening when you’re tired. You want lots of hugs and don’t want much to do with anyone but me. Since your dad is usually cooking dinner at this time, it doesn’t seem to be a big deal at this point.

Books are still your favorite things. You definitely seem to prefer some to others right now. Goodnight Moon, Brown Bear, Mommy Kisses, and Touchdown! (a book from Mamaw) are your favorites. You actually pick them up and bring them over to us, which is pretty sweet.

It’s fun how now, when you want something, you’re better able at communicating it to us. For example, Friday afternoon you were toddling around the kitchen while I was at the counter catching up on some email. I heard you come up next to me, but didn’t look down. Suddenly a felt your little hand wrap around my index finger and give it a little tug. I looked down at you and you smiled and gave a little squeak. When I knelt down, you shuffled over, put your head on my chest, and gave me a hug, patting my arm the whole time.

And off you went again. Probably to go eat some dirt.

Love,

Mama

I just went in JR’s room to check on him.

When I knelt down to his crib, he stirred and sat up. He looked at me, smiled, stood up, rested his head on mine, and then plopped back down and went right back to sleep.

This kid…