Sex and Cupcakes. Not at the same time.

So, a few weeks ago, I was making cupcakes for a friend's baby shower and Jack was "helping". He really enjoys cooking with me - I hold him in one arm and stir with the other and he usually gets to sample the goods. On this particular day, it was the mixer and he was loving a little smidge of batter here and there. My mom would probably say, "you'll get worms!" (I think that was really just a ploy to get us out of the kitchen so we'd get out of the goodies), but I figured a little couldn't hurt. A little for the cupcakes, a little for Jack, a little for me. SO. I went to answer the phone or something and before I knew it, there he was:
I can't remember why he's not wearing pants - probably another escapade into the dog dish. Oddly enough, I couldn't find the cupcake. I was expecting to find it stuck in the couch cushions or thrown down the stairs with the rest of the toys, but no. He threw it away. :) Either he was hiding the evidence or just wanted to be helpful. Probably the former.

So, anyway. Today. SATC. My sister is coming over early for cocktails and I can't wait. I have a sitter, hubby is out of town coaching - it's perfect. I'm even thinking of doing something really lame and going to Hobby Lobby over my lunch hour to find some hideous flower to make a giant pin out of - an homage to Carrie B., if you will. This is the biggest date I've had in ages!

P.S. This is another post that took me 3 weeks to publish. Oops.

Reunions

My last post took me two weeks to finish. I have been extraordinarily busy and a complete slacker on the blog. We just got through a long weekend...and I mean long. Jack was a sicky bear and threw up all night Saturday and still has been getting visits from our friend Rhea Perlman (you figure that one out, folks). I feel bad for the little lamb - he has been living on toast, crackers, water and a few other things his tummy can handle. He's in great spirits and acting normal, just has a sensitive belly right now. It's heartbreaking when he's sick. And all he wants is to be held, which I gladly do. I will admit, my gag reflexes kicked into high gear a few times - it was not pretty. But we made it.

So, a few things I am ridiculously excited about these days...first and foremost, NKOTB. I was in love, love, love with Joey McIntyre. I used to kiss his picture (framed picture, mind you) every day. I destroyed my walls with thumbtack holes and tape putting up hundreds of posters. I spent every penny (and most of my parents') on ridiculous memorabilia. I've been meaning to get into mom & dad's basement to find those old treasures. Anyway...a reunion! Yes!!! I heard their newest single on the radio the other day and immediately felt transported back in time to being a 12-year old girl. It was awesome. It made me truly happy. I have been devising a plan with a few girls to get to a show when they come our way. And I think just about any 30-year old woman can relate...I saw them all screaming on the Today show! I saw their concert when I was in the sixth grade and I cried - bawled - the entire time. I stood on a chair and convinced myself that Joey was pointing and singing right at me - and when I told the story to my sister and her friend, I cried again. Amazing.

Secondly - Sex and the City. Holyshitiamsoexcitedforthis! Seriously...I was fine with the finale - it ended as perfectly as I needed it to. I have been in anticipation of this movie since about January. I have avoided all spoilers I get tears when I see the trailers. My sister and I are ponying up on opening day and going. I'm totally wearing my stilettos. I am also totally ordering a gigantic trough of nachos so that when I am crying (simply because I am there and I love it), I can blame it on the spicy jalapeños. I wonder if it's too much to smuggle in a flask of Cosmopolitans? I won't push it...:)

Not enough hours...

So, I'm sitting here eating Hot & Spicy Cheez-its and speckled with paint. At work. The paint came at lunchtime (the Cheez-its are my lunch) as I was furiously trying to finish painting Jack's bathroom. 1 - because it's been a disaster for a month now, after the green/purple wallpaper pulling debauchery, spackling ridiculousness and finally the painting, and 2 - because I'm having a baby shower on Saturday for a friend and why wouldn't everyone go all the way downstairs to use the baby's bathroom? Yeah, I'm sure they will.

So, I've been frantic all week trying to get ready, which is ridiculous. I'm convinced that I need to get new blinds, which is just silly because the 1977 ones that the previous house owners left have been serving their purpose quite nicely. They are orange, brown, and off-white - in other words, a complete shade of shit. I think I may have actually found that in Jack's diaper once. Granted, it hasn't been my first priority - that was taking down the brown plaid wallpaper. And the teapot wallpaper. Oh, did I mention the pink/green nightmare combo? I love my house.

Anywho, I had to use my lunch hour today - which I hate to do. Generally, lunchtime is my time to do whatever. Whatever usually consists of a quick run so that I don't have to do it later on when I need to be spending time with Jack & hubby. I have such guilt about doing things after work - especially without Jack. I have this fear that he will love the babysitter more than me, which I know isn't true and won't ever be true, but the thought is there, sitting on the very back burner of my mind. I know he loves me because he says my name over and over! Mama, mama...he can be looking right at his dad/dog/toy/ and say, "Mama". Does this mean I look manly or like a? It might- somehow I doubt it, I just choose to think it means he loves me the most. :)

Growing, growing...

So, Jack is a total monkey. And ornery. One of his favorite things to do is get into the dogs' water dish. I will turn around and 10 seconds later his socks, pants, and shoes are soaked. The floor is soaked...and when I pull him out of it he just laughs hysterically. He also likes to throw cat litter. He throws everything over the stair railing, so if you aren't careful, you can seriously injure your foot on some toy shrapnel. At the end of the night, I have to pick up the pile that has built up at the bottom of the stairs. Another favorite is to pull every single grocery bag out of the cabinet and shake them at the cat. The nice thing is, he now doesn't mind putting them back.

He's not even 15 months and I can't believe the words he's saying. He will look at you, before he's about to do something he shouldn't, and wag his finger, saying, "no no no". He says the word baseball. He sees it on tv and says, "bay-ball". He starts to say it in a sing-song and he gets going too fast and then has to end with just ball. Some of the first words included the requisite, mama...now he says it over and over and I just melt. He said "woof-woof" for weeks on end. Pictures of dogs, bears, cows, anything...woof woof. "Dog" is another favorite. My dad worked with him endlessly one week and he now says "papa" like a champ. Grandma comes out "mee maw". He is mimicking everything, which means I really need to stop cussing.

Last week, he was at the babysitter's and she turned to make lunch...she heard him laughing and found him ON TOP of her kitchen table, pulling grapes out of her centerpiece. He has since graduated to climbing onto our chairs - which are unusually tall. He works and works at it and is so pleased with himself when he's done.

I wouldn't have him any other way...I love that at the end of the day I am exhausted from chasing him everywhere. My body is run ragged at the end of each short day (I say that because I feel like I can never log enough hours with him) and I collapse into bed where hubby and I can share a few words from the day and before I know it, he's snoring and I'm watching Golden Girls reruns.

To Make A Long Story Short...Ok, Long

I'm a mom! Yes, that's right...and how do I know this? Because dear lord, I actually used my spit to clean off my baby's face. Oh. My. God. I hated that when I was little and I immediately regretted it and vowed never to do it again. I'm so sorry Jack...mommy really does love you.

So, I've been thinking...should I chronicle every little detail or just begin to sum the last 12 months up? I'm going to try to sum, because catching up would take forever and I just don't have that kind of time when I'm so busy here at work.

I love being a mom. I sometimes remind myself that 8-10 years ago, I had no intentions of having a baby. Yes, I was young, but I really thought I'd be an atrocious mother. I guess we grow into those maternal feelings, because I love having that kid around. And I'll love having even more - just as soon as I can get this one to sleep through the night...

Anywho...the last year has been spectacular. I have functioned on less sleep than I ever dreamed possible. Who knew I could actually do this? Me, who loves, loves, loves nothing more than to curl up under the covers and get 40 winks. My child...not so much. He wants to be awake, wants to party, and doesn't want to miss anything. Sometimes I tell myself he just wants to be with me and that's why he wakes up...to have me scoop him out of the crib and hold him close until he can drift off again. He's down to waking up just once a night...and it only took 15 months! Of course, at my mom's the child will sleep all night and until 10 in the morning, but then again isn't that how it always works?

Teeth came at 5 months. Rolling over at 6, crawling at 7. Holy cow, the child is 8 months old and standing up...I am in trouble. I thought I'd bought myself at least 10-11 months of non-mobility, but Jack wasn't having it. The child is a go-getter! Nine months and he's off to the races...I remember Thanksgiving Day he took about 5 consecutive steps (after weeks of practice) and a week later he was chasing the dogs all over the house. We had just moved into a new house and he was determined to explore it all. I have friends with boys the same age and they were barely crawling - I saw the panic in their eyes, thinking their little bundle was behind the times - but what can I say? Jack's a child prodigy.

I have had my moments...sometimes I think I've become "that mother". I have been on the brink of insanity at some family functions; "give me my child!", I have wanted to scream. No, please do not give him Diet Coke (yes, this happened, OMG), yes, he's hungry, but no, he does not drink formula, and again, he is not getting his hair cut! Maybe not ever if you keep asking! I will let it grow down to his butt! Am I just a heinous b*tch? Some days I have felt like it, but for goodness sake, he's my baby, isn't he? I mean, he really is MY baby. I know that my husband has been pushed to the limits with me sometimes, but he doesn't fully understand my role or my feelings. Yes, Jack is his son, too, but it's different for me. I'm his mother...I carried him inside of me, next to my heart, for nine months (plus one week!). I nursed him for one year - which makes me feel exceptional - and well, it's just different. I am not a Nazi mother, I just know my son and what works for him. I know my frustration must show at times. I am working on my patience with these things, and I will keep trying to get better.