Overheard

Right now, Alex should be taking a nap. He's been in there for about 30 minutes, and I have no idea what's actually going on in there, but this is what I'm hearing:

"Oopsie... I pick it up"
"Bubbles!" - huh?
"Blankie, I lub you."
"Hi kitty kitty" - um, no kitties here, just delusional babies
"I sorry, Mommy" - just break my heart, why don't you? Naps are not punishment, cross my heart.
"Oh, Wubbzy... wow wow"
"Doggie, doggie" - no dogs here, either
"I... thank you!"
"my Daddy"
"Ni hao"
"Which one?"
"Okay, hug me" - Almost got me with this one, but I manage to resist the cute.
"Wheeee" - checks monitor, toddler is safely contained in crib, breathes sigh of relief
"My feet, Mommy's feet, Mickey's feet" - There's not even a stuffed Micky in there, where does he come up with this stuff?

He's currently rolling around in the crib, wrapping himself in his blanket and asking for Grandma. I'm giving it ten more minutes and then I surrender... no nap for today.

Baby Talk

His voice is clearer every day, it seems. The sounds come more easily, more distinctly. Of all the things that mark the passage of time, the changes that herald that he is no longer "baby" but instead "little boy" this is the one that tugs my heart strings the strongest.

I hear him talk, and somewhere in the back of my mind I can clearly hear the high pitched, almost mewling sound of a newborn's cry. I marvel over the consonants and vowels, coming together in the most extraordinary way, bringing me closer to knowing him with every word he says.

I revel in it, each new word, every phrase. The joy of hearing him express his wants, his needs. The joy of hearing him express his joy. Every new word is repeated, questioned ("dat?"). He seems to taste them, saying them over and over, making sure he's got it right. I explain them all, sometimes resorting to online dictionaries to make sure I'm getting it right.

Sometimes they are jubilant. "Mickey!" when I'm wearing a shirt I got at Disney World, over the moon with excitement at seeing the mouse.

Sometimes they are mischievous. "Blankie," he tells me when I go into his room at night, pointing to the floor with an innocent look, as though the blanket somehow flew over the crib railing of its own accord.

Sometimes they are plaintive. "Daddy?" he asks at night, giving me sad eyes before laying his head on my shoulder when I tell him that Daddy's still at work.

All these words make my breath catch in my throat. I want to clutch him to me, somehow force him to remain small, to need me. Because with every word he knows just a little bit more of the world, he's that tiny bit more capable. My head knows that this is good; my heart remains utterly unconvinced.

Caught mid sentence, just like his mother.

Things I Will Miss Someday

Spiky blonde hair in the bathtub

Sleepy cuddles with Goodnight Moon

A small voice asking for gape, ma-o (tomato) and the 'mote

Tiny clapping hands when a block tower doesn't fall over

Whee, whee, whee, all the way home!

Spaghetti sauce from chin to forehead

Soft, steady breaths on the baby monitor

Mommeeee! Daddeeee! Hi!

Unbridled joy over a single Oreo

Thanks to Kristen at Intrepid Murmurings for the post idea.

Wordless Wednesday: Christmas (Finally) Edition

Baby-proofing

You'd think, that after 18 months, we'd have this baby-proofing thing down, wouldn't you?

Behold, the consequences of not using locks on all of your cabinets:


Not pictured: the floor full of pots and pans that once filled the empty space on the bottom shelf.

Sigh... we've made a trip to Lowe's and the install is tomorrow.

Christmas post coming soon. I've got lots of pictures and it's taking forever to sort through them. I've loved reading about everyone's holiday and I promise that I'll have ours up soon!

A Stolen Christmas Meme

With all the worry over money at the holidays and changing work schedules at work (seriously, after 8 years they're changing my guaranteed day off. I may be changing jobs, a post about that soon.) I haven't really put much thought into posts (okay, that's a lie... I think about them all the time, but I just can't muster up the energy to put together a coherent thought). So, here's a meme that I stole from, well, just about everyone I think. (But, I saw it over at Swistle, Incubation Nation and Clueless but Hopeful Mama so I'll give them credit.) (Also, I like parentheses.)

Eggnog or hot chocolate? If I have to pick one I'll take the hot chocolate, but I'd much rather have a big cup of hot tea, preferably Orange Pekoe.

Does Santa wrap the presents or leave them open under the tree? This year Santa will be leaving unwrapped presents and a stocking for Alex. When I was a kid he left one big present unwrapped, a stocking and several wrapped presents. We were allowed to play with the unwrapped gift and anything in the stocking while our parents were sleeping. All unwrapping had to wait until Mom and Dad were up. We plan to do it this way with Alex, as well.

Colored lights on a tree or white? I like white, Jym likes colored. So, we have both and no one is completely happy with the way the tree looks, but no one hates it either. They say that marriage is compromise.

Do you hang mistletoe? No.

When do you put your decorations up? Decorations go up the day after Thanksgiving. If something happens and we can't get them up that day it makes me grumpy and hard to live with. I need my holiday cheer!

What is your favorite holiday dish? The ham rolls that my mother-in-law makes on Christmas Eve. She always makes twice as many as we'll eat so we have plenty of leftovers to help us over that post-holiday slump.

Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? When I was a kid we always opened one present on Christmas Eve. Jym's family opened all of the presents. Now we open the stuff from his side of the family on Christmas Eve, over at his mom's house and my family joins us at our place on Christmas Day. Now that Alex is getting old enough to understand what a present is we'll continue with the same, adding Santa gifts at our house on Christmas morning.

How do you decorate your Christmas tree? Most of the ornaments are Disney. If you know me in real life you completely understand this. My dream home will have a room dedicated to nothing but Disney collectibles and memorabilia, that's how much we love Disney. Other ornaments are family antiques, some that we've picked up the few years that we didn't go to Disney and a few that I bought on school trips when I was younger.

Snow: love it or hate it? Love to look at it, would love to have a white Christmas, but hate the cold and am willing to never see snow again if it means I can be warm all the time.

Can you ice skate? Yes... sort of. I took lessons as a teenager and I can still get around the rink, but this body does not perform the way it used to.

What is your favorite holiday dessert? Chess Pie. I know its not a traditional holiday dessert, but I love it so much. And the only time I bother making it is Christmas. (So I guess in our family it is a traditional holiday dessert.)

What is your favorite holiday tradition? Reading The Night Before Christmas on Christmas Eve

Candy canes: yum or yuck? Well, I'm allergic to peppermint so yuck, yuck, yuck. This actually causes a lot of problems around this time of the year, with all the candy cane items that everyone eats all the time. I can't even be around the stuff, so it puts a major crimp in the holiday candy at work since no one can eat it around me.

Favorite Christmas show? A Christmas Story Best Christmas movie ever.

So, that's it. A little insight into the holidays at my house. If you haven't already done this meme, feel free to steal it from me so I can peek into your house.

Just in case I don't summon up the energy to post on Christmas, Merry Christmas to everyone!

Giving Thanks - The List

1. For Alex, the joy of my life. Healthy and thriving, joyful and filled with an infectious giggle; I wonder every day what I did to be so lucky.

2. Jym, world's most patient man. He puts up with my snits and foul moods. He tolerates my penchant for leaving crumbs on the counter and dirty dishes in the sink (and dirty clothes on the floor and shoes in the middle of the hall and books on every available surface in our bedroom and... well, you get the idea). He makes me laugh when I am angry and smile when I am sad. He is my strength.

3. My parents. They both have health problems and I am so grateful that they are still with us. We don't always get along and there are plenty of problems in our past, but I love them dearly and don't know what I'll do when they're gone.

4. My mother-in-law. She comes everyday and takes care of Alex while we work. She loves him so much and he adores her. I am blessed to have this woman in my life. She helped us buy our house and started Alex's college fund. She helps us in a million little ways and our lives would be poorer without her.

5. Leftover Halloween candy. I know, its not deep or meaningful, but damn... I do love some mini Reese's Cups.

6. My job. Less and less everyday, though. I'm burned out and in a place that offers no challenge or room for growth. It does provide a paycheck, however, so I can't argue with that.

What are you thankful for? Do you love Reese's as much as I do?

Words, Words, Words

Can I just say that it completely boggles my mind the amount of words that Alex can say?

off and on (both sound like "ah" but he uses them in the right context)
boom! ("boo!", whenever he falls down)
pull ("puh")
mama
daddy
hat ("ha", a less cute, but more intelligible version than "tah", which he used until recently)
cheerios ("che-os")
truck ("tuck")
binky (bi-ee")
yum ("um")
no
nose ("no")
eye
tongue ("tuh")
book ("buh")
up ("uh")
down ("dow" - used often in conjunction with "boo!")
door ("tor")
blanket ("bla-ee")
light ("li")
shoe ("zhoo")
tickle (one of his first words, it still sounds like "dooka")
pot ("pah")
ball ("bah")
that ("tat?", when he wants to know the word for something)
dragon ("dah-on")
toe
block ("bah")
computer ("poo-uh")

I know there's more, but this list just amazes me. Yesterday (I swear that it was last week, at the most.) he was just a helpless newborn, bleating out his needs with crying. Today he pointed at the top of the fridge and and said cheerios. It blows my mind.

Not Mine Anymore

My family recently went on vacation. We spent a lovely time in Walt Disney World, showing Alex all the things that we love about the place: the rides, the shows, the fireworks, the food (OMG, the food. Don't roll your eyes, Disney has tons of gourmet restaurants.) We love the place so much that we spend at least 2 weeks there every year and more if we can swing it.

Usually we come home with tons of pictures (and we did), lots of T-shirts (less this time due to the crappy economy), a new Christmas ornament (got that, and it's adorable) and a boatload of stuff for my scrapbooking. And we leave with a sense of sadness and satisfaction intermingled; bittersweet and worn out.

This time, however, was different. We were eager to leave, the bittersweet skewing sharply to the bitter near the end of our trip when my car was stolen. We parked it one night, right outside our room, carried an exhausted, sleeping Alex inside and went to bed. The next morning we packed up the diaper bag, got everyone dressed and stepped into what felt like unreality. We looked where the car was parked, and then we looked again. I asked Jym to be sure that I hadn't forgotten and then we both looked stupidly around the parking lot, as though the Jeep might have gotten bored and gone for a drink in the middle of the night, returning to a different space in its confusion.

The cops were called and Disney stepped up, giving us a stroller and providing transportation for the remainder of our stay and the return trip home, 650 miles away. We waited, hoping that the car would be found and also hoping that it wouldn't (because who doesn't want a reason to go get a new car?). The Orange County Sheriffs called us on Halloween; my car had been located at an industrial park about 20 miles outside of Orlando. I felt a sense of relief and then one of disappointment when they told us that the radio and stroller had been taken. But it was no big deal; everything was covered by insurance and stuff can be replaced.

My car finally made it back to town today. We went to the shop where they're checking it out to get some things out of it that I had been needing. I opened the door and then I couldn't stop crying. My things, all the little things that accumulate, were scattered everywhere. There were papers in the floor, all over the backseat; a CD was discarded in the passenger floorboard, the only remnant of the dozens that I kept in the car. Jym's Air Force sweatshirt was thrown over the backseat, but mine was missing. The change jar that I keep in the console was gone. Jym's Zippo was gone, taken from its place in the ashtray.

And it finally hit me, what seems like such a nothing on paper. It was just a car, just some stuff and a handful of change. But it was mine. These things, this space, it was mine.

And now it doesn't feel like mine anymore. I sat in the driver's seat; my feet didn't reach the pedals and it was leaned back at an uncomfortable angle. I felt like there was someone lurking over my shoulder, but of course I was alone, sitting in a car and crying in the bright afternoon sunlight. Jym came up behind me and I leaned into him; crying out the loss that I thought I hadn't felt.

Moments in Time

He toddles down the hall toward me, grinning, arms out wide. I walk to him until, with a not quite audible thud, he collides with my legs, wrapping his arms around my knees and burying his face for a hug. I scoop him up and toss him above me, reveling in the sound of his giggles.

*****

He sits quietly on the floor, engrossed in his toy truck. Turning it over and over in his small hands, examining each detail before cramming it into his mouth. He gives it a good gnawing and looks up at me as if to ask if I'd like a taste.

*****

"Tah, tah!" He points and I follow the line of that chubby finger to see a ball cap lying in the floor, dropped last night as we were getting ready for bed. I lower him to the ground and he rushes over, triumphantly grasping his find and trying to put it on. He struggles, but still grins. Moments later I am the proud wearer of one NY Yankees tah (hat) and he grins before snatching it off my head and clutching it to his chest with joy.

*****

We sit in the floor, me stacking blocks and him pushing them over. With each crash the laughter peals out, giddy with glee and excitement, and the "Boom!" he receives from me at the latest demolition pushes him over the edge. He falls backward, rolling from side to side as he shrieks his delight.

*****

He crawls away from me, giggling. I chase after, "I'm gonna get you, I'm gonna get you!" Into his room, onto the soft blue chenille rug that he loves to lie on. He drops to his hands and knees, crawling now as I give chase. Into the corner he goes, breathless with anticipation. "Gotcha!" And he flings himself down onto his back, giggles and grins washing over me as I claim my victory with a tickle.

*****

He sits in his high chair, spaghetti sauce in his hair. The tray is coated with smears of sauce and squished noodles. He reaches for my plate and I put a few more noodles in front of him. He picks one up in his right hand, poking at the dangling end with his left. Then, leaning over and keeping an eye on me, he drops the noodle over the side and onto the carpet, thus signaling an end to dinner.

*****

He cries out in the middle of the night, a bad dream or a lost binky disturbing his rest. I go to him and he cuddles into the curve of my arms, wrapping himself around me and drifting back to sleep without effort. I breathe in the smell of him and sit, absorbing the small shape of his body pressed to mine. He sighs and I lean in closer to kiss his cheek, listening to the soft sound of his breath and the faint squishy noise of a well loved pacifier. Reluctantly I stand, walking to his crib. I lay him down and he rolls onto his belly, sound asleep. Covering him with his blanket I gently stroke his hair and whisper my love.