Oh, Jack. My precious little pet...growing so fast. Knowing more than he realizes, and making his mom really understand that the swearing has to stop NOW. A slew of Tupperware fell on me yesterday and a GD-it slipped out. "Go damnit" I hear Jack say. Repeatedly. I tell him no, not nice to say those words, to which he replied "go damnit". Eff.

Tonight, determined to watch Hot Dee Dog (Mickey Mouse), he wandered into my dark bedroom saying it over and over. I do believe he thinks it is only on in our bedroom since that's where he hunkers down and watches it over his morning milk. I heard him yelling, "Mommeee..hot dee dog." and "no, momma" as I tried to coax him back into the toy room. We settled for watching Doofy (Goofy). He really is the sweetest...tonight I taught my Pilates class and drug him with me to the gym to play in the nursery while I toned my tush and abs. He clung to my legs, tears streaming down his face. I want to cry. Hubby is reffing football, no one is home to watch him, it's a pain to get a sitter for one hour. I rushed out, trying to talk myself out of the guilt I felt. As I went back to get him after class, he was standing by the door, waiting. As we went to leave, he patted all the rocking horses and said "nice horsey" and told them all bye-bye. What a gem that boy is.

Jack spent some time with me at work today - I never last more than 30 minutes at the office when he's around. He works the room like a tornado, leaving a trail of papers in his wake. He pushes every button and the box of toys I keep stored hold his attention for approximately 2 minutes before he wants "my puter". Today his puter was my calculator. I turned to try and get one last thing done and before I knew it, he had a huge stamp across his lips. If I needed to, I suppose I could have used him For Deposit Only at Sunflower Bank. Thank goodness for wipes.

In the meantime, I have turned 31. I spied hair growing in gray today. What the hell? I have been using wrinkle creams, sunscreen, and expensive make-up thinking I could defy age for awhile and I'll be damned if it didn't surprise me right on top of my head. Not so fast, mother nature! This is one thing I will not tolerate. Eff eff. However, hubby got me a glorious video camera, that I am itching to use, yet I am worried I will break it or that I need something really spectacular to use it on. I am thinking Jack will do.

I survived the canoe trip. Barely. Gi.Nor.Mous. sized bruises on each thigh and the back of one leg. I got beat down. Actually, hubby horsed around a little too often and I took the brunt of each shipwreck. I look like I've been mugged - by the White River. I survived without my Jack Jack as well, although I'll admit, it was difficult. I have not shown my thighs outside of my home for 2 weeks. Which could be a good thing.

It's amazing what a few days will change...he's taller, smarter, more talkative (is that even possible?), and more hilarious. He's obsessed with a baby photo on our calendar and repeatedly asks to see the "baby tiny". Today he grabbed the remote and flipped to Sportscenter, then sat on the bed with his milk and watched. He thinks all books are about animals and calls them all "anmal boot". Possibly the funniest thing is farting...which I should expect coming from a boy. He opens his eyes wide and his mouth into an "o" and says "poof" or "poop" - I can't tell which. Then he giggles. I'm not sure why farts are always so funny, except that they just are. He loves to try on shoes - and says "shoes on!" whenever he sees anyone with shoes. Maybe he does have a bit of me in him after all. He's so ornery and pushes the limits of everything. He does understand saying sorry which I find totally endearing. He says it and lays his head down on the person/thing to express his regret. So sweet about children - their emotions are so real and true, you never are left wondering how they feel. And it's evident every day when I walk into the house and see him smiling as he runs into my arms.

All Grown Up

So, my little bear got his first haircut (real one - me trying desperately to trim his little bangs does not count). It's so short. I liked his shaggy look and the way it was beginning to curl up at his neck. My baby walked in and this little man came out:

Not to mention, he got his first lollipop, so his mouth and his white t-shirt were blue (and red - I just realized there must have been two, unless it was a magical KU lollipop that turned from blue to red with each lick) by the time he was finished. I didn't go. I'm glad - I couldn't. I got tears when I first laid eyes on him. It physically hurt me to see it. Of course it was cute and obviously he's the most handsome devil around, but he looks so grown up. Sniff. I think hubby is pleased that the shag is gone.

These days, everything is "mine" or "my"...my bimmie (blankie), my mommy, my bed (which just happens to be our bed), my bobble (sippy cup). Everything is his and he is not particularly interested in sharing, which leads hubby to believe that a new baby is needed so he can get used to spreading his treasures around. Sure, whatever. He did manage to share one of his bimmies long enough to let our new friend Carter B. lounge on it for a bit.

He has excellent manners..."tan-too, mama", he says. Not just when he gets things, but when he gives them as well. It's darling. He says "scu me, mama" when he scoots past. He does have a bit of an issue with "please" - we had some drama in the car where he preferred to cry instead of asking nicely for his cup (that he had thrown on the floor for the umpteenth time..."uh, oh, bobble!"). Mind you, he was not thirsty, he just wanted to shake it up and down and get his pants wet - and continue to laugh at me each time I fell for it and picked it up.

Lately he is obsessed with football and he runs around with a Nerf football saying, "DOWN!" waiting for hubby to say the "SET, HUT!" and then proceed to tackle each other in a fit of laughter. When he does it with me, he says, "no, mama" after he is on the floor. I apparently not allowed to play. . It is, however, important to me, for Jack to know that Mama is athletic, therefore he will be attending my volleyball games come October. So, between this and the random swinging of his pint-sized baseball bat, I think I've got an athlete on my hands. If he wants to be a concert pianist, we are surely out of luck. Did I mention tv? He doesn't watch much, but he runs around saying, "Mama! Hot diggity dog!"... a delightful little ditty he learned from a Mickey Mouse show. He can hardly contain himself when he says it.


This weekend, hubby and I are off on a canoe/float trip with our cousins. Despite my excitement at getting out of town for a few days, I am not thrilled to be leaving Jack. I've had no time to prepare myself for this extended vacation and I don't appreciate how I'm feeling. I know he will have a great time and wear his grandparents down to stubs. It will be fine, I just don't like it. Am I too attached? I think this is how it should be. I miss him already.