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Throwback Thursday: Tiny Baby, Big Kid

It's hard to believe that this tiny baby is now this big, goofy kid.

Wordless Wednesday: 20 Days to Go

Yardwork and Other Miscellany

The leaves in my yard look like a carpet, so thick on the ground that the grass has disappeared. My deck and driveway are the same, all traces of wood and concrete disappearing under a crunchy layer of gold and orange. It's beautiful, and I recall when, as a child, I would run and leap into giant piles of leaves that my grandfather had raked in the yard. I started to make a pile for Alex, but then I realized I would be putting a lot of effort into a waste of time. I have the only little boy in the world who can't stand to be dirty, so what do you think the chances are that he would voluntarily hurl himself into a pile of leaves?

I finished my English paper early. That means no more thinking about that class until Tuesday! Yay for me... except I still have to write papers for Psychology & Public Speaking, so boo, hiss to being a grown-up. Also, does anyone else see the unfairness in having to write papers for a speech class? It's a class about talking. Woe is me.

I actually manged to frame and hang two - that's right two! - of the multiple photographs I have printed. I felt a ridiculous level of pride at this accomplishment until I started counting what was left and came to the depressing realization that I need to make about double what I make now if I want to afford frames for all the photos, prints and lithographs I have waiting for my attention. Seriously, I have a painting that I bought at a show before Alex was born, actually before I was even pregnant (so at least 6 years ago) that has been waiting for a frame all this time. I get it out of the closet and measure it every so often, so progress?

We leave for Disney in 26 days. I think these will be the longest 26 days of my life. It feels like forever since we've had a proper vacation and I can fell my exhaustion level creeping higher and higher with each passing day. I full intend to sleep for most of the drive to Florida (don't tell Jym) just so I can catch up on my missing sleep. Is it too early to start packing? Because, seriously, I'm ready to go.

I can feel my eyelids drooping, so I'm off to bed.

Actually, that's a lie. I'm off to lie in bed and read Twitter and Cracked on my iPhone until I jolt myself awake by dropping the phone on my face. Then I'll really go to sleep... promise.

Wordless Wednesday: 27 Days to Go

Hard at Work

I'm sitting her trying to convince myself to stop playing on the computer and finish my homework. If I would just get off my ass and get it done, I could be done with my Psychology class in about two days. That would mean more than a month left in the semester with one less class to worry about. My procrastinator gene seems to be dominant, though, so I'm guessing I'll be scrambling at the last minute to finish things. Wish me luck, won't you?

On the bright side, once I get through the semester I have 10 days at Disney to help me unwind. We're headed down immediately after my last Monday night class, driving all night and checking in as soon as our room is ready. I fully intend to spend the day after my last class bouncing around the Magic Kingdom with my son and husband and hugging as many mice, chipmunks and ducks as I can find. Also, eating as many churros as humanly possible.

It's just the three of us this time, no other family going and no friends to meet up with, and honestly, I can't remember that last time I felt this relaxed about a Disney trip. The only schedule we have to worry about is our own, we don't have to coordinate with anyone to decide what park to go to or what ride to ride and we can eat wherever we want without worrying about anyone else's tastes or budget. It's not that I don't enjoy traveling with family, but... yeah, but. It's just nice to have my own little family with no one else around. No promises, but I'll try to get in a couple of posts while we're there so you can all see how beautiful Disney is during the Christmas season.

More to come tomorrow; I'm off to work on my English paper. Wish me luck on that, too, won't you?

The End of the Beginning

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel for this semester. When school started, back in August, it felt that I would be slogging through homework assignments for approximately a million years. Jumping back into Algebra and writing papers was quite a shock to my system. I kept plugging away, though, and gradually it became routine. Come home, get Alex ready for bed, sit down at the computer and do some math or research. Now I have less than a month left and I can actually list all of the assignments I have left to complete. (for the curious - a couple more chapters of Algebra with homework and a test, the Algebra final, one more analysis paper, one test and a final for Psychology, 2 more speeches with self evaluations and a paper on an outside speech for Public Speaking and 2 more papers for English Comp).

I'm almost done, and by Christmas I'll have 18 credit hours under my belt (I had a few hours that transferred from years ago.) That means I just have, well, a lot more work to do. But still, it's a solid start, and I'm taking 16 more hours next semester, including what will probably be a very grueling Anatomy & Physiology class. Lots of memorization for that one, so no relying on my ability to figure out things as I go along. I'm actually going to have to buckle down and study. I'm thinking flashcards? For all the body parts and bones and muscles I have the remember? It worked for Alex when he was learning to read, so I guess it's worth a shot.

The feeling that I get, being so close to the end of this 1st semester, is amazing. I feel like I'm finally making forward progress and getting my life into gear. I can look forward, in the not to distant future, to having a job that I enjoy. To actually having a career instead of just a job. It's been a long time coming, but I'm really getting it done.

School and Stuff

I just spent a ridiculous amount of time watching a commercial second by second and writing down everything that happened in it. Why would I do this, you ask? It's for English Comp; I have to write an analysis of an advertisement that does the following:

describes the advertisement’s features/narrative accurately; explains the significance of those features in terms of their relationship to the product/idea for sale; uses this particular advertisement to identify the cultural values that this advertisement reflects and on which it capitalizes.

Sounds like a load of fun, doesn't it? Also, I really feel I'm learning a skill here that's going to help me on my chosen career path (nursing, for those of you who didn't already know that). Can you tell that I'm less than enthusiastic about this assignment?

In other news, it's exactly one month until we leave on vacation. That means one month until I'm done with school for this semester.Which feels a little crazy when I think about it, that time has flown by this fast. But now it's starting to creep by again. I can see the end in sight, with our long awaited trip as my reward, but it feels so far away. And yes, this is a total first world problem, I am well aware of that. I have about a million things to do before the trip, including some that aren't really necessary but that I would like to get off my to-do list, so I'm hoping that I'll be able to fill my non-school time up enough so it goes by faster. On a related note, does anyone want to come hang some blinds and put up a shelf in Alex's room?

OK folks, I'm off to bed. 6 am comes awfully early and I have to get my beauty sleep. Here's hoping I have something more interesting to say tomorrow.

Not Flaking, Yet

So, here I am, day two... that's right folks. I can successfully carry through on a commitment for two whole days. Aren't you proud?

Seriously, it feels good to be putting my fingers to the keyboard. Even when I don't have much to say, like tonight. There's a cold rampaging through my house right now. Alex is in my room, passed out in front of the TV, because he's so pitiful when he's asleep that I just can't tell him no. Jym is working, powering through in that manly way of his, although I'm sure he'll make up for it by sleeping extra late on his days off.

And me? Well, despite my stuffy head, sore throat, and burgeoning cough I just managed to finish my speech assignment, so I've dosed myself with NyQuil. I expect it to take effect shortly, so if you see a random string of characters on your screen just a little further down, that was my forehead hitting the keyboard. NyQuil hits me like a ton of bricks and it also tends to make me chatty, so forgive any rambling I may do.

I haven't managed to get any Halloween photos uploaded; fingers crossed that I manage to do that tomorrow. You know, after I finish my online math test, complete the rough draft for my English Comp paper, read the three chapters for the next test in my Psychology class and practice my Monday night speech 3 or 4 times. Other than those things, I've got nothing going on.

All right guys, I can feel the NyQuil now and I've had to re-type this sentence about 5 times already, so I'm off to bed. More to come tomorrow.

P.S. My speech for Monday is a persuasive speech to convince people to get at least 8 hours of sleep. Do you think they audience will be able to detect the hypocrisy?

NaBloPoMo

Oh, look, it's NaBloPoMo time again. You know what that means... another year in which I pledge to write everyday and then flake after about three posts.

It's not that I don't have anything to say; there's a constant stream of ideas in my head. Unfortunately, by the time I get done all the things that I have to do most of those ideas have evaporated into a misty, vaguely blog shaped form in the back of my sleep deprived brain.

But! This year will be different. This year I will write. I'm already at the computer, working on school stuff, so surely I can spare a few minutes for this neglected space. I won't be using any of the prompts that are popping up all over the Internet as we speak. I tried that last year and it felt too much like homework. What I will do is just sit down and write. If it pops into my head, it's going on the blog.

I have a lot going on right now. I'm in school now, working on my nursing degree. I'm just in the starting stage right now, so there's a lot of "Why do I have to take this class? Oh, everyone has to take it." English Comp for example, which I have to take in two semesters (Comp I & II). For someone who loves to write so much, you'd think it would be a breeze, but it's actually pretty boring. Also, my professor doesn't seem to like my writing style and I keep getting marked off for things that are not actually, technically, incorrect. To this I say "blerg." There's not much I can do about it, and at my age I'm not likely to make many major changes in the way I write, so I'm hoping to just get through the class with a decent grade and get a different professor for Comp II.

Alex is in Kindergarten, and doing well. He blew through the reading program that they use in about 8 weeks, so the school bought him a license for the 3rd grade program and he's working on that. They earn points for the activities and quizzes in the program and his teacher set his goal at 10 points. He's earned 2 already in the week he's been using it, so I think you can see where this is going.

Alrighty, my typing fingers are already tired from working on my Public Speaking assignment, so I'm signing off for tonight. If you're lucky, I might motivate myself to upload the Halloween photos tomorrow so you can see Alex in all his cuteness. Until then I leave you with this:

Seriously,isn't he the cutest kid in the world?

Kindergarten

I sent my boy off to Kindergarten today. We've been preparing for this day for weeks, months really, talking about the things that he'll do and learn. I've been trying to get him excited, to avoid the tears and separation anxiety so many people talk about.

I may have done too good of a job.

We walked into the school this morning at 7:40. Well, I walked. Alex was bouncing around like a demented bunny on a steady diet of amphetamines and coffee. It was all I could do to get him to hold still long enough for the obligatory first day of school photo.

We walked down what felt like the shortest hallway in the world, me trying to slow him down and Alex rushing to join the throng of children heading for the check-in table. Reaching the table they ask what group he's in. "Orange," I say, proud to have remembered this important fact. While I have my 5 second conversation with the teacher, Alex has already located his name tag and is attempting to peel the backing. The teacher smiles as I stick the tag to Alex's shirt, pressing firmly to make sure it sticks, to ensure that everyone knows my baby's name today.

We follow the crowd to the Auditorium, Alex dragging me along. As soon as we walk in the sound hits me, dozens of children in various states of excitement and dismay. Alex makes his way to an empty seat in the front row, next to a boy in a green shirt, eager to make a new friend.

The boy is sad, however, and Alex is baffled by this.

And that pretty much sums it up. To him, this is all an adventure, the first step into the most exciting thing he's ever done. How can anyone be scared or sad or lonely or nervous when everything is so grand? And just like that, the sadness that was welling inside of me evaporates, morphing into delight at the joy he feels. I kneel down, giving him a kiss and receiving a lick in return (a delightful habit he's developed lately). I hug him and move to stand when he throws his arms around my neck, squeezing tightly. "Love you, Mama," he whispers in my ear. I laugh, relieved that he needs me after all and hold him tight. Just seconds later I disentangle myself and step away.

"Be good today," I tell him, mock stern. He grins, mischievous. He settles into his chair and I move towards the door, and just like that, I'm no longer the focus of his world. He looks around as I watch, kicking his feet as he takes it all in. When I reach the door I turn back one last time, expecting him to be watching.

He is not, of course, not my independent boy. I call his name and blow him a kiss. He sends one back and I'm gone, leaving him in the hands of people I've just met, letting him go, just a bit.

For Alex - My Almost Big Boy

I love...

how you think cuddling and snuggling are different. To quote you: "Cuddling is touching and snuggling is no touching!"

the way you love music; you sing all the time, and it makes me smile whenever I hear your little off-key voice.

how proficient you've become with the computer. You use it better than some of the people I work with, and I'm so proud that you're diving full force into the technocentric world we live in.

how happy you were when you discovered that our new king sized bed is plenty big enough for the three of us to cuddle without Daddy grumbling that he doesn't have any room.

that you want to hold my hand, even when we're just walking around the house. I know our hand holding days are numbered.

your ninja moves. You flip and kick and air-punch your way across the living room several times a day, always with a cry of "Watch my moves, mama!"

your enthusiasm for make believe. We were playing restaurant the other day, and you were so involved that you tried to eat the sandwich you made. You quickly discovered that felt food is not as good as the real thing.

the look of concentration on your face when you're really focused on something. I wonder what's really going on in that mind of yours.

the way you sneak into my room in the morning, unplugging your iPhone with as much stealth as possible, hoping to get a few uninterrupted moments with your favorite apps. I usually wake up because you walk like a herd of elephants, but I let you think your sneaking works, because you're always so pleased with yourself.

how you still think mommy kisses make everything better. I don't know how much longer this particular magic will keep working, but as long as it does, I'm happy to kiss your boo-boos - even the ones on your stinky toes!

how big you are now, but how you're still so small at the same time. I want to freeze this age, almost five, and keep you like this forever... almost a big boy, but still young enough to need your mama.

I love you, Alex.

Thanks to Allie, over at Having a Fields Days, for the idea for this post. Her list for Sarah Hazel is so sweet.

Sideways

It's windy here today, the dry leaves swirling and dancing on the asphalt as I back my car out of the parking lot to head home. The temperature is cool, the kind of day that brings excitement in late March or early April, a harbinger of brighter, warmer days ahead.

This is not late March or early April, however. This is mid-October. A dreary, overcast day that hints of the cold to come, the dark days of winter stretching out before us. I can feel the darkness closing in on me, the long months to come looming ahead.

My thoughts slide sideways this time of year, dreaming of a different life, one filled with year-round sun and walks on the beach, the ocean breaking on the shore beside me. I long to pack my car, stopping only long enough to load my husband and son, and make an escape. Instead I head to the grocery store, the library, the bank - mundane chores filling my days until the spring brings a return to lightness.

I can feel myself sinking deeper with every overcast day, the sadness rising inside me with the shortening of the days. I'll keep to my house as much as possible, sleeping long hours and avoiding people. I want to be different, but every year it's the same - cold temperatures, long hours of darkness and depression seeping into my bones. I can see it coming again this year with an awareness that I've never had before, but I don't know how to stop it, how to hold it at bay until the sun returns next spring.

So, I'll make my way through the winter as best I can, taking refuge in my sideways thoughts - warm breezes, hot sand under my feet and the waves crashing. And I'll wait for the sun to come back to my landlocked, small town home. I know it has to.

Diary of a Quitter: Day 1

Today is the day. I'm quitting smoking. This is the hardest thing I've ever done. I'm a mass of quivering nerves, churning gut and shaking hands.

It's been 9 hours since my last cigarette. I want one so badly; I can't even put it into words. I've smoked for almost 18 years and I don't know what to do with myself.

It's not just the nicotine addiction, although that's quite the bitch. I don't know what to do with my hands. I don't know how to take a break without a cigarette in my hand. What will I do on hot summer days, when the sun beats down and there's a book waiting to be read?

Day one, this sucks.

Writing Fail

So, it turns out that I'm just as unreliable as I predicted in my very first post. NaBloPoMo was a total bust for me, but that's okay. Daily posting is obviously not my thing, and I can live with that.

We're on our way back from Disney World, and I just downloaded the Blogger app. I have a feeling that being able to blog on the go is going to make it much easier to get all these words out of my head.

Lots to talk about: a great trip to Disney & we're getting ready for Christmas. We've bought Alex a ridiculous number of presents. First though, we have to finish this drive back home. Just 400 miles to go!

His Favorite Color Was Red

My father died this summer. I don't think I'll ever be able to stand outside on a hot, humid day again without remembering the first moments of my grief. Smoking a cigarette, walking in circles in the grass, just trying to get it together enough to drive home.

He had been sick for a long time, kidney failure, heart attacks, diabetes, liver problems from his medication an occasional seizure thrown in just for fun and scariest of all, a stroke. He started getting sick when I was in high school; we actually celebrated my 16th birthday in his hospital room, so we had been living with the reality of his illness for almost 20 years.

You think that you're prepared for something like this. We all know it would happen, and as more time passed we knew that it might happen soon. But we never really believed it would happen. When he went into the hospital for the last time, in mid-August we all assumed he'd be back home soon, maybe on dialysis, but home.

On August 29th, I stood in the ICU, where I had visited so many times, and watched my mother let him go. They had been trying to revive him for at least 30 minutes, while we drove to the hospital, and when we arrived she told them to stop, that they had done all that could be expected. She thanked them, and I cannot imagine the strength that must have taken, to thank the people who couldn't bring him back and to be the one to make the decision that it was time to stop trying.

I miss him so much, and whenever I see a photo of him it hits me again. The thought that I'll never hug him, never feel the scratchiness of his stubble as he kisses my cheek or hear his laugh, it's like a punch to the gut that takes my breath away.

We talk about him every day. I'm determined that Alex will know how much his Papaw loved him and hopeful that he will remember how much he loved his Papaw in return.

This is what I remember:

flying through the air as a child, as he swung me in his arms, knowing that he would never drop me

floating in the ocean with his hands under my back, learning to swim

sitting on his shoulders in that same warm water as a storm rolled in, feeling the waves crash over us, but never being afraid because his strength would keep us safe

sitting in our kitchen, watching him cut up the steak for the stroganoff my mother would be making for dinner

learning to shoot - his large, calloused hands wrapped around my small ones

climbing on his tow truck in the summer, "helping" him wash it, but mostly just getting squirted with the hose

Christmas mornings where the joy in his eyes outshone anything my brother and I were feeling, just so happy to see his kids happy

walking down the aisle towards my soon-to-be husband, my hand on his arm, it felt like floating

the first time he held my son, so tiny, and the gentle love I could see as he cradled Alex in his arms

the way he loved my mother and how they showed me, together, that marriage isn't always easy but it's so worth the work

a million more small moments - the wonderful, which I will hold on to as tightly as I can, and the fights and friction that come from strong, conflicting personalities living in the same house, which I will let go of

I will miss him for the rest of my life.

Love you, Daddy.

In My Head

So... it's been awhile since I've posted here. I've been having a hard time motivating myself to write; there's so much in my head that it just swirls around all day, ideas popping in and out, but nothing ever makes it to the keyboard. Very frustrating.

I'm challenging myself to NaBloPoMo this year. I want to write and I think this is exactly the motivation that I need.

There's so much to say; my father passed away in August, Alex turned three in June, we're planning a bathroom remodel, a vacation and just all of the ordinary, everyday things that make this life so amazing.

I'll be using the writing prompts that they have on BlogHer, but probably not all of them. There are things in my head that need to get out, and this kick in the butt is the perfect opportunity.

Nothing like a deadline to get the creative juices flowing, right?

Tomorrow I'm going to tackle the subject that's been keeping me away from here more then any other: my father's extended illness & his death in August. Just thinking about writing about it makes my eyes burn with tears, but I need to get it out and hope that you're willing to hear it.

Until tomorrow...

Gratitude and Resolve

The turning of the new year is an amazing thing. It marks not only the passage of time, but also the anniversaries of all that we have gained. It gives us a concrete, markable point during which we have the opportunity to think, really think, about all that has gone before. I'm not saying we can't do this throughout the year, but we get so caught up in the day-to-day that time just slips past, running through our hands like water, vanishing before we've even realized it was something we needed to hold on to.

The last couple of years, though, I've really sat & thought about all that I have to be thankful for, all the joy that I have in my life and also the opportunities I've let slip by. Things haven't always been easy; there are times when I want to crawl into a hole & pull it in after myself, but that's just the day-to-day grind. When I step back and really consider, I realize that things are great, that I'm right where I want to be, and that I have a head full of plans for where I'm going

So, without further ado, the annual list of sappy thankfulness and wishes for the future:

This Boy

cheesy grin courtesy of toddler notions

of what constitutes a smile

Sometimes, I don't even have words for what I feel for him. When I watch him sleep, it takes my breath away. Hearing his laughter is like the sun shining, even during the times when it seems like all I can see is a downpour on an overcast day.

There was a time when I thought that I wouldn't have children, then out of nowhere he was there. A surprise, a shock, an adjustment if I'm being perfectly honest. And even now, there are times, lying in bed, that it all feels unreal. The idea that this perfect person is lying in his crib, just on the other side of the wall, it stuns me anew. I turn up the monitor, just so I can hear him breathing as I fall asleep and I wake with a smile when I hear "Mommy! Where are you?"

Lately he's been challenging, defying us in ways that he never has. He sneaks candy, touches the Christmas tree, grabs things off of Jym's desk, tries to play with my computer, refuses to nap (and then turns into a monster 4 hours before bedtime) and on one heart stopping occasion he ran away from me in a parking lot. He's two, and he's testing limits, exploring his world.

I marvel at the person that he's becoming. I marvel that he is becoming a person, that I get to watch it happen right in front of me. He told me today that his favorite color is blue and it staggered me: how is he big enough to have opinions already? How is he old enough to know these things? But he is, and I soak it up, savoring the becoming & trying to clutch him tight to me at the same time, to keep him small.

But, at the same time, its so easy to just mark the time, to wish away the hours until bedtime. There are days when all he wants is to play with his trains, to run his cars around on the floor for hours at a time. I love to be with him, but when I'm being honest with myself I can admit that toy trains and cars just don't do it for me. I find myself longing for the day he'll be able to sit quietly next to me and read a book. This year I will work harder to hold those hours of trains and cars and make believe close. I will get down in the floor and make choo-choo noises. I will make sure that he never knows that mama doesn't love trains as much as he does, because as sappy as it sounds, his happiness is my own. When he looks back at his early years I know he won't remember many details, but I want his to remember the feelings, especially the feeling of an actively involved mom and all the joy that brings.

This Man

On the porch at Belle Meade, during
our 10th anniversary trip

He is patient, though he will say he is not. He is kind, though he thinks he's a hard ass. He is funny and smart and cuddly and a great cook and a great father (although if he could jump in with the potty training, that would be great). We met when I was 19, and I thought he was sleazy (he is, just a little, like a good used car salesman). I mostly avoided him for the next 2 years, despite the fact that I was drawn to him (or maybe because I was drawn to him, who can tell the mind of a 19 year old girl?). When I finally gave in, he swept me off my feet. We started dating in April and were engaged by June.

There have been hard times, there will be hard times again in the future. But he is there, a rock for my raging river to flow around. Steady and stable, he tempers my moods and keeps me on an even keel when I want to throw caution to the wind, shirking responsibilities and obligations. He helps me be the person that I want to be, he encourages me to do the things that I dream of. When I fret, when I sink into depression he is there, holding out his hand, a lifeline to bring me back.

All those words to say this, simply this: I love him & in 50 years I'll love him still. So this year I will strive to be the patient one, to become more steady and be the person he can lean on. When he needs support, I will not huff impatiently and I will not roll my eyes. I will do things to make his life easier, like he does for me. On occasion, I may even cook dinner (or maybe not, I'd like to keep this realistic).

This Lady

With Alex at Walt Disney World, December 2008

My mother-in-law is, in my humble opinion, the greatest mother-in-law in the history of the world. She comes to our house almost every day and takes care of Alex while Jym and I work. As much as it sucks to leave Alex to go to work, she makes it easier. Alex adores her and she thinks he hung the moon. She helped us buy our house and she's currently given up her garage for more then a month while we try to fix Jym's car. She is supportive, in a no nonsense, zero tolerance for bullshit, Italian mother way and has helped us with so many things that I've lost count.

This year I will be a better daughter-in-law. I will not take her for granted. I will thank her for all the time she gives to our family. I will even take her to lunch, for no reason other than that she is awesome.

These Folks

My parents with Alex, July 2010

My relationship with my parents has not always been the best. I was a rebellious teenager, running wild, said condition exacerbated by my father's struggle with addiction. Things were hard when I was growing up, money was tight and we were far from the Rockwellian version of a perfect family.

But they always loved us and did the best they could. And now that Alex is here, I am desperate for him to know them. They love him beyond anything I could have ever imagined from two grandparents, showering him with attention, filling his time with laughter and joy whenever they're able to visit.

Those visits are too infrequent, however. So this year, I resolve to visit more, to make the 2 hour drive to their home as often as my overstretched finances will allow. My father has myriad health problems, and as much as I hate to think about a time when he'll be gone, I know that it's coming. It could be next month or it could be years from now. The not knowing is hard, harder than I know how to put into words.

So, what I want is to give Alex as many memories as I can, to fill his mind and heart with his Papaw. I want my son to know my father, to remember him and I know that time is limited, so I'll give up some of mine (and some money, too... $3.00/gallon for gas, ack!) to make sure that he does.

That's the big stuff and there are so many more things: my job, my home, cable television, bloggers that make me laugh & make me think, homemade cookies and a million little things that add up to a happy, content life. This year I will savor those things, I will soak them up, I will wallow in the everyday joy. This year I resolve to really live, and love, my life.

Birthday Wishes

Alex has an alphabet puzzle. All 26 letters in bright, primary colored wooden cut-outs with a board that they fit into. He loves this puzzle and we play with it every day.

Before bed tonight we sat down with the puzzle. He handed me the letters of his name, saying each letter out loud: A - L - E - X. We spelled his name and then he proudly proclaimed "Alex!" with his hands held triumphantly in the air. He then pulled random letters from the puzzle board, passing them to me one by one, naming each. When he was done he demanded asked for a bath, running eagerly to the bathroom when I agreed, puzzle forgotten by us both.

We played in the water until his lips turned blue and he was shivering. When I pulled him from the tub, against his firmly voiced protests that he wasn't cold, he snuggled into me, actions belying words.

After diaper and lotion and jammies we enjoyed a leisurely bedtime snuggle. I managed to drag myself from the bed before I fell asleep and tucked him securely in the crib, heading to the living room and the warm glow of my laptop.

Where my computer normally sits there was a message for me. No one in the house has claimed responsibility for the message, but I have my suspicions.

.
Happy Birthday, Jym. Would you settle for a flea market knock-off?

Bath and Bed

Step 1: Inform him that he will receive a bath tonight. After retrieving him from the empty bathtub, fully clothed, explain that the bath will be after dinner. Ignore pouting.

Step 2: Go into bathroom and close door. Ignore the wailing sounds from outside.

Step 3: Plug drain and turn on water. This will help to drown out the sounds of woe.

Step 4: As tub is filling add bath toys until there is a small menagerie of water animals assembled. Place step stool by tub and shampoo by stool.

Step 5: Turn off water and open door.

Step 6: Capture toddler who is attempting to climb into tub with clothes and shoes on.

Step 7: Remove toddler's clothes while keeping him restrained. Ignore with heartlessness the despairing cries that issue forth at the injustice of being held back from the water for this clearly unnecessary process.

Step 8: Release toddler, blink. Toddler has now disappeared and splashing can be heard.

Step 9: Join toddler in bathroom, perching on stool for comfort.

Step 10: Pour water over toddler's head to wet hair. Dump most of the water in the tub, as he has dodged at the last minute. Repeat approximately 100 times.

Step 11: Shampoo hair and wash toddler's body. Lift feet and hands out of water as needed for the removal of toe jam and the cleaning of fingernails.

Step 12: Tell toddler to stand up so his bottom and related parts can be cleaned. Tell him again, this time tugging gently on his arm to encourage standing. Tell him approximately 15 more times, each accompanied by a gentle tug until finally hauling him to his feet to wash his stinky bottom. Ignore wails and protests; the toddler is not injured, merely outraged at the fact that he dropped his seahorse.

Step 13: Rinse the toddler's hair. See step ten for instructions.

Step 14: Dump some water on the toddler's tummy and back to rinse off remaining soap. Marvel at how there are no bubbles in the tub even though there were bubbles in his hair when you rinsed it.

Step 15: Sit back, towel at the ready for toddler induced tsunamis. Give a halfhearted protest at each wave. The toddler has broken you of any reasonable expectation of a dry bathroom at this point.

Step 16: Gasp in shock as toddler stomps his foot and drenches both your legs, the stool upon which you are sitting and the floor. Mop ineffectually at what used to be the contents of the tub.

Step 17: Declare that bath-time is over. When toddler responds with any variation of "no" (i.e. "Not yet," "I don't wanna," "I'm not ready" and the like) ignore him.

Step 18: Stand up and retrieve towel from back of toilet. Grab slippery toddler under arms. Drop towel in water while avoiding dropping toddler. Set toddler on stool.

Step 19: Grab another towel from outside the room. Hear splash.

Step 20: Return to bathroom; retrieve toddler again. Leave towel on counter until toddler is standing on his own.

Step 21: Wrap toddler up like a 3 foot tall burrito. Pick up now helpless bundle and adjourn to the living room.

Step 22: Realize that you failed to get out toddler's diaper and pajamas. Set toddler on couch with instructions to stay put. Turn on cartoon as incentive.

Step 23: Walk down hall to toddler's room. Open drawer to retrieve pajamas. Glimpse small toddler shaped blur streak past out of the corner of your eye.

Step 24: Repeat steps 20 & 21. Close the door on the way out of the bathroom this time.

Step 25: Return protesting toddler to living room. Place him on your lap to towel dry his hair. Ignore howls of fury as he routinely shakes his head harder then this while jumping on your bed.

Step 26: Place toddler on floor. Begin diapering process only to realize that you have forgotten the Desitin.

Step 27: Retrieve Desitin from kitchen counter.

Step 28: Wonder where toddler has gone.

Step 29: Find toddler in front of bathroom door, desperately trying to turn the knob. Be grateful that he hasn't mastered that skill, yet.

Step 30: Hear toddler say "Oops, you can clean it up, Mommy," as he empties his bladder in your bedroom floor.

Step 31: Sigh in resignation and throw towel over puddle.

Step 32: Send toddler, who has now realized his route back to the tub is blocked, back to the living room. Blot up worst of puddle, then follow.

Step 33: Place diaper on toddler, including Desitin.

Step 34: Apply lotion to toddler's delicate, sensitive skin. Wonder why his lotion costs more than yours.

Step 35: Wrestle toddler into pajamas after failing to convince him that an ice skating bear is just the thing he wants to wear.

Step 36: Chase toddler down after he bolts to your room, begging to sleep in your bed. Promise one story and cuddle time in the big bed.

Step 37: Read book, perhaps something Seussian.

Step 38: Turn bedside lamp to lowest setting and curl up for a good snuggle.

Step 39: Sing, talk, sing some more.

Step 40: Tell toddler that it's time to get into his crib.

Step 41: Feel will being broken by toddler's cuteness and cuddle-ability. Give in for just a few more minutes.

Step 42: Feel eyelids drifting shut as you sing The Sleepy Song.

Step 43: Wake as husband picks up toddler three hours later and puts him in the crib.