Friday, February 17, 2006

Birthday Eve

Tonight is the eve of my Baby J’s 2nd birthday. The husband has to work late and I am sitting on the couch in such awe of the past two years listening to him babble to himself in bed. This amazing being has once been a helpless, tiny baby with a whole world ahead of him. Not knowing what is in store for him, how much love he will be given and how he will win our hearts.

Tomorrow he will be 2. I know there will many years after this, but he has really turned from my baby J to my toddler J. He has true likes and dislikes. He knows who he wants to watch on TV and what he likes to eat. He has a favorite matchbox car and his tigger he likes to sleep with. He has to have his feet covered when he sleeps along with a sippy cup with a bit of juice. He wont let me leave him to sleep unless I read him at least 2 books and one has to be ‘Mama, Mama. Papa, Papa’. He wears an 81/2 shoe and he wears 2T shirts. He is tall and skinny and loves to jump all the time. His girlfriend is Shayna that he loves to hug her and plummet her to the ground every time. His favorite fruit is a banana and his favorite food is Dunkin Donuts’ munchkins. If you ask him what he wants for dinner he will say ‘french fries, ketchup.’ Maybe not in that order. He has an oversized Tonka dump truck that he drives all over the house, all day long. He always asks for daddy after he wakes from his naps and has quite a fit when I tell him he is working.

What this child doesn’t know is how much he has taught me in these past two years. I believe the biggest lesson he has taught me is patience. He has showed me that no matter how exhausted you are, you still have a little bit of energy left somewhere in there. He has made me appreciate such little things that normally one would take for granted. But mostly, he has shown me love so deep and so strong, I would give my life for it. For that, I have to say, Thank You, Baby J. Happy Birthday and I love you from the depths of my heart.

Thursday, February 9, 2006

It certainly sucks, but you blow

Today I was drowned with errands and decided when my friend called me to go to an indoor playground for Baby J to play with his girlfriend and her twin brother for 2 hours I just had to go. My husband decided that sleeping late constitutes him to stay home and work from the comfort of the basement in his jammies. That’s the life, right? Well, when he is home, I get very little done. He spends hours on the phone with conference calls and J seems to think that his mother is dispensable when his father is anywhere in the house. Well, I am good for the diaper changes and juice on demand, but daddy is more fun. When this happens, I need to get out of the house and I just didn’t feel like taking Baby J to the bank teller and the mail place and anywhere else I had to be.

After a few tantrums and a complete meltdown at the playground, I took J to my fathers house to drop off a ton of stuff to store there. It gave grandpa and baby some time together as they fought over whether the cat food should go in or out of the container. Guess who won that argument? When it was time to leave I had to tear him away from the cat food (Baby J, not my father) and practically pin him down to get him in the car so we can go home to eat lunch. Oh, the screaming!

A great benefit of having the husband home during the week is that I can put J down for his nap, leave the monitor with him and make sure I am back within 2 hours. I get a great 2 hour break! I can go to the bank, mail a few packages, food shop, I can even run in a meadow. I am free from a child that will make the nerves in my neck tense up and make any childless person thank their lord for not being me.

So I had to get both of my vacuums fixed. The upright’s roller didn’t spin and the canister smelled really bad when I used it. So I went to get them fixed at a local appliance repair place and expected to pay a bit to have them looked at and fixed and I’d walk out of there with something to use whether it was one of mine or a loaner. Instead I am told that both of my vacuums are for crap and that I need to buy this super duper, professional quality vacuum that would suck the eyeballs out of my head if I needed it to do so. So while this barely 20 year old moron is trying to sell me a vacuum and trying to make me feel like Ralph Kramden from the Honeymooners (remember that episode?) I am starting to get pissed off. I don’t usually get pissed off. I do tend to become the sucker buyer because I can’t say no to a good salesman. This guy probably was a bad salesman because he couldn’t get me to buy his product. One thing I have learned from my husband, who was back at home with his feet up on his desk probably surfing the internet for the next car he wants to buy, was to never buy on the spot. Yes, this was a great product, but this guy doesn’t know my financial situation. He doesn’t know if I can afford a new vacuum. Yea, I might need a new vacuum because mine are crapola. I could have stolen these two and brought them in to be fixed just to sell them for 20 bucks for a heroin fix. I kept telling him that I needed to talk to my husband before I purchase something this expensive. It was obvious the moron wasn’t married or had a significant other. You don’t just go and buy an $800 vacuum on a whim, yet a $1500 one either.

The moron pissed me off so bad that I actually said to him, “If you are not going to fix the ones I brought in, then I will take my business elsewhere. I need to get home and I am not listening to your song and dance. If you keep pushing me, you will guarantee that I would NEVER buy your product and make sure none of my friends do either!” What you need to understand is that I never talk like that. Those words were from me listening to my husband do ‘his thing’ when it comes to dealing with people. I can never stand my ground or be a bitch to a stranger. Maybe to my husband or an ex-boyfriend that thought it was smart to question my beliefs or my favorite color. The moron suddenly apologized and went about to look at my two piece of crap that would never pick up a single piece of dirt and fixed them, free of charge.

I’m so proud of myself. I came home and ran down to the husband to tell him my story and there he was, feet up surfing the net for the next car he wanted to buy.

Monday, February 6, 2006

You would never know a farm animal if it hit you in the face

Naptime is usually an event that I look forward to daily. That’s when I am free from a clingy, opinionated, stubborn yet cute as can be toddler. Sometimes I take a nap, search my message boards, clean (ack! Did I just say that?), etc.

Lately baby J has been quite the entertainment when I leave him to sleep. After I have read about 20 books and attempted to cover his feet with his sea creature blanket from gymboree about a billon times, I finally sneak out. Some of the time he will test to see if I will come back in after he throws his sippy overboard. Not only does this instant sleep inducer get thrown out of the crib, it’s thrown on the side against the wall, so I have to move the furniture to get it. He is slowly learning that is not going to get me to come back in and get him.

Today after I left him I heard him drinking and being nice and peaceful. Drinking his cup, feet covered and holding his classic Tigger under one arm. I suddenly hear his empty cup go flying through the room and hit something on the other side. I turn to the Baby J Room channel on my TV and I see him sitting up chatting to himself. He seems to be flipping through a book and started to make all sorts of animal noises.

“Neigh, Neigh”
“Moo, Moo, Moo, moo, moo, moo moo”
“yeow, yeow”
“woof woof”
“a doo doo do” (this is the sound a rooster makes in J language)

As he flips to a new page, a new sound comes out. And with each sound his tone got louder and louder. You would think that he is hiding a whole farm under his crib and pulls it out at bedtime when he is all alone just to freak out his parents. I run downstairs to get the husband to show him what’s going on and by the time I went down and up the stairs, he had become fast asleep. This child has to be possessed.