john's mom works

what to do with messy, sticky-uppy hair? add product and spike it more, of course! somewhere around eight years ago, my husband and i went to zion national monument in utah for a weekend camping trip. when we lived in arizona, it was a snap to bop over to lots of places like zion - a half day's drive and we'd be in places that many people see only once in a lifetime on that family trip out west. we went in october, so it was beautiful cool weather. we camped in the campground rather than staying in a cabin or the lodge. and surprisingly, the campground was pretty full. it was a strange little campground - flat, square, treeless campsites right next to each other, with odd ditches dug around all four sides of the site. but what the actual campsite lacked in character, it more than made up for with the view. it's nestled right into zion, and that has to be one of the single most beautiful places i've ever been. at the campsite right next to us was a cute li...

john has a collection of dead cell phones that he 'talks' on - now with more "picture-taking"! first things first - john's fever is FINALLY gone. he spiked up again on tuesday night, so we had to stay home on wednesday again, but it never came back after that so he's back to his normal self. second things second: john's beginning to do a lot of imaginative play, and it's so much fun to watch! he's recently taken to "taking pictures" with the dead cell phones he plays with. he even says "cheese" when he holds it up to snap a quick pic of you. it's pretty freaking cute, and actually quite handy: now he understands the concept of "cheese" and i can get him to sit still long enough for a picture of him: little man, big chair. posed pic, no blur. go mama! but what's even more fun than taking pictures is the repurposing of household objects for more imaginative uses: "rain, mommy!" like t...

can you see that big fat tear? i have to say that i am extremely blessed. john is one sick little kiddo right now - according to the doc, it's an undefined virus, and the only real symptom is a fever. he's taking plenty of tylenol, but as the dose wears off his temperature drifts up to 103+ and he gets pretty cranky and miserable. so why am i so blessed? i think i'll write a list. i have a job and an employer that let me work at home when i need to, so i can be here to take care of my sick little peanut i live in an era that makes working from home be pretty seamless and easy and probably the biggest one that never ceases to amaze me:  i have a little peanut who is SUCH a good sport when he is sick.  he's happily watched elmo most of the day, not minding that mommy was close but not holding him. when he wants to be held, he comes over to me and politely says, "up, please." when he gets tired, he lays down on his blanket and says, "nigh...

he even said "cheese" when i held up the camera yesterday, i got to go on a date with my husband. we were laughing as we drove to the movie theater (we saw the hunger games ... judge if you must!) because of how different our lives are from early in our relationship. first, we went on a date at 1045am. that would never have happened 10 years ago. second, we frantically left the house after getting ready in 10 minutes after a  typically hectic morning in our house. thankfully, a very good friend of mine who john adores kept him for us, so we were able to enjoy a very nice morning date. when we got home, i picked john up to give him a kiss, and instantly i knew something was wrong - he was HOT. i immediately guess he was running a 101-102 fever. (as an aside, i used to wonder how moms could magically tell when their kids had a fever. my brother would have a fever, and i would try to feel if he was hot, and i could never tell. apparently your magic mommy thermometer ki...

his hair is fixed. it's very short. my baby is not a baby. he's a little boy. it's official now. the dividing line? this haircut. and that he was drinking from a big boy cup right after these pictures. ::sigh:: they grow so fast ...

i cried this morning. a lot. it is always a little hard for me to acknowledge my failures. i am a success-oriented type of person. i do a lot of things very well, and i take pride in a job well done. i am a great many things, and i am good at most of them. there are some things i am not. and when i'm not, i'm REALLY not. i even fail spectacularly. i am NOT a barber. this poor child. it seemed so simple. trim straight across the back of his head to get rid of the rat tail. that's all. a few straight snips. two things i did not consider: john has never sat still for a moment of his life. of course when i try to cut his hair, he practices nodding, and looking up at the ceiling and down at the floor. i am not a barber. i cried hard. needless to say, we will be stopping by somewhere after work to get it fixed. and i will never - NEVER - i solemnly swear NEVER - take a scissors to my child's hair ever again. never.

look at this mug! all he wanted to do this morning was brush his little teeth. could be worse. you may not know this about me, but like all mommies, i am a vmb. that stands for "veteran* of the morning battle."  the opening salvo is typically fired somewhere between 6am and 7am. it begins with a little, seemingly innocent voice. "mommy? daddy? buddy? juice? elmo shoes? basketball? bear?" it ramps up quickly to a full-bore air-raid siren. "MOMMMMMYYYYYYYYYY!" then the barrages come fast and furious as i shower, do my hair and makeup, make/eat breakfast, see my husband off to work. "mommy, up please. mommy, up please. mommy, up please. mommy, cheese!" (handing him some cheese.) "no! mommy cupcake!" (handing him a muffin.) "no! mommy, up please! mommy, juice!" (putting down my makeup to find the juice cup.) "no! mommy, up please!" somehow, we survive every morning more or less intact. and by the time the juice ...

that's john sitting on his daddy's shoulders, watching sharks and rays. did you know it's wednesday? and did you ALSO know that i've been planning to write about our awesome weekend since sunday night? and did you FURTHER know that i've written about everything but? so. let's pretend it's not coming up on a new weekend and talk about the one that "just" ended. "ernie" shoes recently, john's shoes were starting to be too small. we had retired his size four sneakers, and the only shoes that stayed on his feet were his size five boat shoes. his size five chuck taylors flopped off his feet with every step he took. so logically thinking, i decided he needed a size 4.5. which is very difficult to find, at least when you shop at wal-mart and don't like to spend more than $10 on shoes for a growing peanut. but since his health and happiness are paramount, we went off to stride rite saturday morning to find some size 4.5 sneakers ...

all these tantrums make me sleepy! officially, john is 22 months old tomorrow (the 18th). but he's been sending one message, loud and clear. if you listen VERY carefully through the screams, the flopping on the floor, and the occasional bite, you will hear this: i'm two!   and there are certainly plenty of reasons why they call it the terrible twos. he's headstrong: his way or the highway. he's frustrated: he can't quite communicate what he's thinking. he's loud: he has no concept of inside voices. he's aggressive: he hits, he head butts, and then there are the aforementioned bites. he's angry: he lashes out at all of the above and doesn't yet know how to productively express his ire. our first effort is always to communicate with him. we encourage him to use his (rapidly expanding) vocabulary to tell us what he needs. we let him know that if he doesn't listen, there will be consequences. and when that doesn't work, we spank. plea...

a baby on a mission. it is so easy to have my blinders on as i go about my day. i look only forward, at the goal ahead. it doesn't matter what that goal is - get john to school by 8:30 so he can eat breakfast; finish this report so i can turn it in on time; hurry to the bank so i can get back to work - i am in a tunnel, walking straight forward toward whatever light is ahead, just moving through the task with no glimpse at what's around me. but lately, i feel like i am being nudged to look around. the jogger when i worked at the credit union, i had to be at work at 8am. now that i work at the mall, our office doesn't open until 9am. on those days that i don't go to the gym, it feels like quite a luxury to be heading to work at that hour. so when i see a man about my age, out for a run at 8:45am, i find myself thinking, "must be nice." i think, "i sure would love to be able to go for a run this late in the morning." i think, "must be a nic...

"oh, man. this fruit cup won't stay on the arm of the chair!" on the drive to school today, john suddenly exclaimed, "oh, man!" and he said it in exactly the right tone of voice. "what's wrong, love," i asked. "why, oh man?" "oh, man!" he reiterated. "oh, man - the MOWER!" i wracked my brains. the mower? what about the mower?  and then i remembered - on the way to the car, we were discussing how john has a little lawn mower and daddy has a big lawn mower. so i said, "oh, man, you want daddy's big mower?" and he said, "oh, man! the BIG mower." and pointed out the window at a tractor driving by. oh, man!

i have yet to take a picture of this child that is not blurry on an least one of his extremities. he never sits still! i have often joked that it is impossible to have a bad day when you have a child like john in your life, always ready for a smile. and nearly every day of my life, i realize even more how true that is. today wasn't trying to be a bad day, don't get me wrong - i feel a little funky but i'm ok.  but when i woke him up (10 mins before we needed to leave the house) and he hugged me so tight and wouldn't let go. then he kissed my cheek and said, "love you, mama." and then when we were leaving, i told him to tell daddy to have a nice day. and he looked at daddy with sweet blue eyes and said "nice ... day ... daddy?" life is good.

trumpet, hat, drink ... and so much more! when i was in middle and high school, i had the privilege to take part in a really cool program encouraging creative thought and innovation in kids. it's called odyssey of the mind, and it really shaped a lot of the way my brain works and my problem-solving skills. the competitions for odyssey of the mind included a long-term project - anything from technical problems like building a contraption(s) to propel tennis balls across a gymnasium with precision and speed to dramatic problems like writing and performing a seven minute skit portraying a folk tale and including famous quotes in the dialogue - and a short-term project, called the spontaneous problem. for spontaneous problems, they might give you seven minutes to construct a bridge of tape and toothpicks to support the weight of as many nails as possible. or build a tower of safety pins and chopsticks that goes as high as possible but resists the torque of twisted rubber bands. b...

and for once, i'm not sniffling over my child, aren't you proud of me? it's actually my allergies, which i've suddenly developed after 31 years on this planet, and MAN are they terrible! it's a good thing we don't have to type like we talk, because you would barely be able to hear my scratchy nasally voice. but you didn't come here to hear about my problems. you came here to see this naked booty: friday, since my husband didn't have to work and john's daycare was closed, the two of them got to spend a day together. in the afternoon, a great friend of ours kept the little monkey for a couple hours so dad could go to the gym. when i got their, john was helping her repot a plant and was coated head to toe in potting soil. she tried to apologize, and of course i assured her that that was exactly how a little boy SHOULD be! (she rightly added, a little girl too, but since mine's all boy we'll stick with that for now!) after a dip in the kiddie...

 at the end of any given day, john's hair is a disaster zone. between its tendency to stick a million directions but down, the fact that he probably has put banana or apple sauce or cereal in it, and his inability to sit still long enough to brush it, it becomes the world's cutest mop. last night, though, i noticed something else: it is almost starting to look like an intentional mop. a sort of rakish teenage boy with locks everywhere mussy look, instead of a mom-i-need-a-haircut look. so i decided to try to document it. 567 blurry photos later, this was the best i could do. freaking cute? sure. but you can't quite tell just how smashingly fashionable my little bug looked last night!

"dang, son. mama ran hard this afternoon. thanks for coming with me." "didn't look so hard to me, mama. i think you could have gone faster and we'd have made it home to my juice sooner." yesterday i managed to get a good run in after work, before the storms showed up. but i guess it's thunderstorm season. and this season, they seem to be coming all at night.  used to be i loved a good night-time thunderstorm. sure, it might wake me up, but i'd listen to the thunder and see the lightning play through the curtains, and i'd hear the rain on the roof, and i'd sleep peacefully. occasionally another big boom would startle me, but only for a moment. nowadays all that has changed. not because of john - he slept like the proverbial baby through the whole thing. no, this is the culprit: why yes, this IS a new thundershirt. thanks for noticing. poor wussy buddy. he did much better last night than in previous stormy nights, in part becaus...

refueling the mower. complete with "glug glug" sounds. yesterday i found myself in a bit of a funk. nothing was wrong that i could identify.  i didn't even feel sad, exactly. i just felt sort of perpetually on the verge of tears. when i find myself off balance like that, i think it's important to examine it, to push on the bruise a little, to taste those tears and see from whence they spring. so examine i did, and i found at the root of it all my ever-present dichotomy: john's mom works. i am not sure why this is such a sticky wicket for me. i love my job - both what i do, and the organization and people for whom i do it. i love the opportunities to be creative. i have chosen the right career path, because i find my work truly fulfilling and satisfying and - dare i say it - fun. but from time to time, i have a spell of wishing i could stay home with john. it makes me sad to think of other people spending so much more time with him than i do. i long to play and...

yes, that is, in fact, final four basketball on the tv in the background. and yes, i am watching john instead. that's dedication! recently, john has been pretty fixated on basketball. anytime he sees a basketball hoop in someone's driveway, he goes into a gleeful conniption, yelling "basketball!" excitedly. so imagine how overwhelmed with joy he was when nana (my husband's mother) bought him his very own basketball net! nana was in town for the weekend, and john had an awesome time playing with (and being spoiled by) his "neena." we went to an easter egg hunt on saturday morning: i think this goat is tickling john. or maybe he's just tickled at the idea of a goat. either way, love that smile. we went to dinner with family, we played more basketball (and also pushed the mower around that nana bought for him), and we went to church on sunday: grown boy in a bunny outfit. and we generally had a wonderful time. except. i think the terrible t...