Thursday, July 21, 2011

Life with Jack

Jack keeps us busier than we ever thought possible. People frequently tell me when the baby sequel arrives that I'll be busy. I'm sure life will reach a new level of craziness, but until then we're busy enough running after a 16-month-old who never fails to make us laugh.

Due to his penchant for throwing food, I have to mop the floor a few times a week. At least. We try to vacuum at least once a week too, but sometimes even that gets tough. I sometimes think I'm raising a hoarder. When I'm running late getting ready for work, I'll give him dry Cheerios and turn on Sesame Street while I dash around. The Cheerios inevitably wind up all over the living room. Then, he'll move them around. He'll stash them under his car. He'll stash them in the bookshelf. He'll put a few in his toy box. Then, Jack treats the entire living room like a cruise ship buffet that he can snack on whenever he wants. He'll start nibbling and I'll have to look around to discover where it's coming from this time.

Jack is a waver. Whether walking through daycare, an airplane, or the grocery store, he greets his adoring public like a consummate politician. It's always interesting to see who waves back. Sometimes the most intimidating people break character and coo. Sometimes people look the other way. I thought my Aunt was going to take out someone's jugular for not waving back at Jack while we were visiting Duluth.

We've currently been trying to explain to Jack how he will be a big brother soon. We point to my belly and say "baby." He sometimes says "no" which his one of his favorite words. I honestly thought he somewhat understood the concept when he pointed to my belly one day at dinner and said unprompted "baby." But then, he pointed to his belly and said "baby." When I said no, he pouted.

Daycare has recently been very challenging. Jack moved up to the Toddler room which thrilled his parents because it was a nearly $400 price break a month. But Jack has recently started the separation anxiety business and crying like a banshee when we leave. Dave usually makes the drop, but one morning he just couldn't go through the flailing and whaling again, so I went. We talked about daycare and our friends all the way there and as Jack walked to the door he seemed excited. Then the door opened. Jack looked around and immediately started backing up, reaching for me, and letting out a blood curdling scream. It's one of those things that's just so hard. I can hear him yelling down the hall and when I exit the front door. But, when I go to pick him up, he's happy and content and playing and he always runs with a smile to see me. That's the best.

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