A Wolf at the table

Uncle Wolphie (my brother Mac) came to visit for Thanksgiving. He spent a week with us, plenty of time for him to become Jack's absolute favorite. Some highlights include going down every slide at the playground, watching The Street (Sesame that is) while snuggling on the couch, Uncle Wolphie even babysat while I ran errands. For the big day, we picked up a turkey from a local farm, Mac taught Jack how to make turkey noises. We all put on our best sweats and had a nice lazy day smelling the bird cook and watching the Macy's parade. Jack loved the sweet potatoes, which Uncle Wolphie hated so it evened out. Everyone loved the turkey and cranberry sauce, Jack couldn't quite get into the Brussels Sprouts but the adults devoured them. After lapsing into a deep food coma we waited for the kitchen elves to appear and clean up but they must have been busy elsewhere so Mac and Dan were put to work cleaning up the dishes while I got to work cleaning the sweet potatoes off Jack. The next day we lazed around until the afternoon when we went to the tree lighting downtown. It was a bit of a struggle to get Jack's mittens on and to keep him happy in the backpack while listening to 45 minutes of Christmas dirge courtesy of the Salvation Army band. Finally the tree was lit and we headed home to the warmth and a big bowl of turkey soup. Mac had to leave on Saturday. Jack and Otis are just now coming out of their Uncle Wolphie withdrawals. Luckily they don't have long to wait until they see him again.

It's Not Easy Being Green

It's always been a kick to feed Jack. When he's in the mood, he can put away immense amounts of food. On one memorable occasion he ate a bratwurst, half a banana, a couple ounces of cheese, some potato salad, and a handful of Teddy Grahams. Of course, there are other times when he won't eat hardly anything except banana. His list of likes and dislikes is constantly shifting, he always loves fruit but other than that nothing is certain. He gave us quite a surprise last night when he happily gobbled up forkfuls of kale. That's right, kale - sauteed in olive oil with garlic and cider vinegar, not flavors typically enjoyed by babies. In typical Jack fashion he may never eat greens again, or he may continue with his surprising ways.

Hair

Jack had his first real haircut on Halloween. It was long past time, he had a real mullet going in back and his ears were almost completely covered. I took him to a special kids salon. They had theme chairs - Jack sat in the jet plane - tvs and videos - we went for an old Elmo - and were exceptionally fast. He was pretty good about the whole thing. He sat still and didn't fuss too much. He had one small cry, nothing a pacifier couldn't handle. The whole thing only took about 15 minutes - it was amazing to watch her cut so quickly. I do miss his sweet baby locks. His new do certainly makes him look like a little boy.

busy busy busy

It's been a whirlwind for Jack these past few weeks. He spent a week in San Diego celebrating his Great Grandmother's 90th birthday, two days after he got home he had a visit with his Placerville Grandparents, during their visit Dan and I snuck away for our first overnight so Jack had his first overnight away from us. Things have quieted down a bit now but as usual there is no usual with Jack. He's trying to adjust his sleep schedule on us, refusing to go down in the morning and sleeping just short time in the afternoons. I've tried instituting quiet time in leu of the naps but it never seems very quiet and eventually we all give up after about 30 minutes. In addition to the fun with naps, Jack has decided that he doesn't want to eat off the tray on his highchair. The only way he willeat is if we put his plate on the tray and let him feed himself. He has also gotten a lot more picky to boot - veggies are out fruit is in, hot dogs are wolfed down while other meat is picked at, bread and cheese are prefered above all else. On the movement front - Jack is now running. He runs around the house, often his feet get moving faster than the rest of him so he tumbles to the ground, but he just picks himself up as fast as he can and runs off. Also, he's climbing with abandon, especially the stairs which thanks to his monkey like behavior have no gate at the bottom and therefor no way to keep him from climbing the stairs. There have been several occasions when things have gotten too quiet in the front room and I have come in to find him happily running around upstairs. He keeps me busy, and he makes me smile which is business as usual.

And the weener is . . .

I had a headache the other day and for the first time in almost 2 years I didn't think twice about taking something for it. I reached for the bottle of Excedrin with a big smile on my face and happily downed 2 pills. It is a little strange and totally liberating to be only eating/drinking/consuming for one these days. I successfully weened Jack. He's moved on from the boob to the sippy cup and doesn't seem to mind one bit. He was a little iffy about the milk at first and spit it out - he had only had water from his cup before - but now he chugs it like a frat boy at a kegger. Come to think of it, he walks a bit like a frat boy at a kegger too! I do miss the closeness that nursing gives, and think that he might too - he has upped his pacifier use - but love the freedom to drink coffee and take aspirin whenever I want. Besides, he still comes over for snuggles during the day.

Doctor, Doctor

Jack woke up with a fever Sunday morning. It didn't seem like much, just a little warmer than usual. The first clue that he wasn't feeling himself was the fact that he slept late, past eight o'clock which is quite a luxury. The second clue was his lack of appetite. For a boy who loves to eat even the smallest refusal seems significant. He also slept a lot during the day, 2 very long naps. I didn't really think anything of it. On Monday he still felt warm to me and was even more sluggish. We went to the playground and he played well for about 20 minutes then crawled into my lap and snuggled - clearly something wasn't right. Dan and I bit the bullet that night and took his temperature. He had a fever of 102. We called the pediatrician who suggested some Tylenol and rest. We hung up and called Grandpa Doctor. The next day the fever broke and Jack was back to normal except now he was covered in small red spots on his chest and back. We waited a day as they didn't seem to be causing him any distress. The next day the spots were worse so we once again called the pediatrician who thought it might be a reaction to his recent MMR vaccination which there is no real treatment for just love. Again, we hung up and called Grandpa Doctor. Now, I like our pediatrician here, they have been really great, and I trust their diagnosis. But, it is so nice to have a Grandpa Doctor. We really don't call the pediatrician often, in fact this was only the second time, so if we do it is because something is wrong. This means that I'm generally in an unfocused frame of mind and tend to forget to ask some questions or miss some of the specifics. Also, no matter how much I like the docs, they really can't reassure me when my baby is sick. Grandpa Doctor, on the other hand, can. Trey agreed with the diagnosis and treatment and helped me feel better too. He took the time to explain to me why Jack was having this reaction, that it wasn't serious, and that snuggles really were the best treatment. What would we do without Grandpa Doctor?

Happy, Happy Birthday Baby

There have been days during the last year when I never thought we would make it this far. I never thought I could survive, let alone take care of a newborn, on a few fitful hours of sleep a night. I never thought he would successfully breastfeed but here we are a year later still at it. I didn't think I would be able to make it through the day alone with Jack. I never thought Jack would survive those first wobbly trips up the stairs. And, I never thought I would love every exhausting, nerve-wracking, boring, hair-raising, and wonderful moment. So on August 28th we sang "Happy Birthday" to Jack and drank a well deserved toast to ourselves. One year down . . .