Category Archives: Parenting

For the birthday boy who today is three

Posted on February 6, 2012 | 5 comments

Oh how I love that face and that boy, my little Jackers Knackers. I can hardly believe it has been THREE years since you entered our lives. You came into this world so appropriately, three quick pushes and all in a hurry to be out here and in the mess. [Sidenote, my doctor was still in the parking garage when I told the nurse I wanted to start pushing – thankfully she made it in time.] You came so quickly that you earned yourself a little trip to the NICU because your lungs needed a little more drying out and you were, after all, a month early but like you have continued to do, you exceeded our expectations and surpassed any limits we foolishly thought existed. You were the giant baby in the NICU, hanging out in a normal bassinet, showing up those tiny premmies in the isolettes next to you – it was quite ridiculous to see you there once you got your oxygen levels and eating figured out. And it’s been pretty much non-stop since that day and I gotta ask you, can you give your mommy a little break? I promise I just need like a weekend where you aren’t into something or pouring chocolate onto the couch then I’ll be good to go for the next year. Okay? Let’s pinky swear on that one.

You are just such a cutie that all of it is forgivable – God certainly knows what He’s doing when He makes the cute ones so much trouble; a cute face will earn forgiveness for many things. And you are still my baby, even at three and even though you NEVER cuddle with me (aside from those five nights since we got back from Australia where you’ve decided that you are done sleeping and want to have a cuddle on the couch with your mommy and while I would love to be sleeping, I would much rather have the chance to hold you in my arms because that NEVER ever happens. Have I mentioned NEVER?); but yet, you’re our baby and I’m in denial that you’re really a “big boy.” Break my heart.

You pooped on the potty Friday night for the babysitter – a first, a huge first – and I actually got a little teary when I saw the text from her. Sad that I missed such a big occasion and sad because the inevitable is happening and you are finally deciding that the potty isn’t as horrible as you thought. [Dear future Jack – sorry, I told the Internet you pooped on the potty and it made me teary. Not really sure who that’s more embarassing for, so let’s call it even.]

You are growing up. FYI – kiddo, because you are growing up, it’s time to pass those nighttime pacifiers on to a new baby and potty boot camp is in full effect – that’s what you get for growing up, but I promise you’ll thank me when you’re a teenager who doesn’t need a hit on a paci to get to sleep and can qipe his own bum.

While we were in Oz you suddenly physically grew – legs stretching out to fit your 3T pants, torso elongating so many of the t-shirts we brought suddenly were a little on the short side. You are losing the roundness of toddlerhood, your belly no longer protruding as it once did. I’m not the first mother to bemoan the loss of their baby as he grows into a boy and you’re not even my first child to go through this, but it feels new all over again.

I adore how you stick your lips out to give me kisses. How you slump your shoulders forward to pout. How you stomp your foot on the floor to prove a point. How you stare at the top of the fridge where we keep our snacks and thoughtfully say, “I want some-fing!” How you call out, demanding hugs and kisses, if we leave your room without giving them to your satisfaction. How you don’t disguise your feelings one bit and have the most awesome angry face I’ve ever seen. How you are never held back by what you can’t do (because the list is so very tiny in comparison to the one of the things you CAN do). How you so want to be doing whatever it is that Liam’s doing but you never let on that you look up to him and have to antagonize him at every turn (well, I don’t adore this part so much, but I love that you love each other, even if you show it in funny ways).

I love that you are mine and I am yours and all together with Liam and daddy, we are a family.

Happy birthday, my sweet boy, today you are three!

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Posted in Life in general, Parenting

Yin and yang

Posted on November 23, 2011 | 1 comment

This morning I asked the boys what they were thankful for…
Liam: Everything!
Jack: No-fing! (a.k.a., nothing)

That pretty much sums up the difference in their personalities. Liam is easily made happy and a people pleaser. Jack, while happy in general, takes a bit more work to satisfy and could care less about what others think.
Love those boys… to the moon and back!

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Posted in Parenting

Just handy…

Posted on November 16, 2011 | 10 comments

Below is an art project they did at Jack’s daycare – paint the kids’ hands and make two handprints so the eight fingers make eight legs for spiders. Jack’s spider is just like him, short a few digits. I had mixed feelings when I saw this project. I obviously don’t want them to not do projects like this because of Jack’s hand and I love that we have these unique art pieces and at the same time I’m reminded of the everyday things that will come up that will point out Jack’s limb difference. And despite how things could be so much worse for him (because this really will never hold him back at all – at least not physically), I still hate that he has this particular thing in his life, because again, we want the easiest path possible for our kids.

I’ve talked about Jack’s hand before and I want to reiterate I’m not ever sad and don’t sit around thinking about what he can’t do because I truly believe his possibilities are limitless. But I do want to talk about a few things that have been on my mind and heart with regard to his hand that the art project sort of brought to the surface.

A couple of weeks ago Liam was playing with a Mexican Small Drum, similar to the one pictured below, the kind where you spin the handle back and forth between your hands so the balls on the end of the strings hit the drum to make a rhythmic sound. After Liam was done with it, Jack picked it up and tried it out but couldn’t do it at first. He looked at me and said (in Jack speak), “I can’t do it, I need another hand.” As you can imagine, I felt the wind leave my sails. That was the first time he’d ever really acknowledged that his left hand was different from the right one. I immediately recovered and said, “No, you can do it, let me show you.” And I put it back in his hands and twisted it back and forth using the base of his little hand against the handle and it worked just great.

Source: monstermarketplace.com

I was relating this story to friends and one of them asked, “Did it make you cry?” And it didn’t make me cry – I’m sure it could if I thought about it too much – but it was similar to what happened right after Jack was born. We had no idea when I was pregnant that his left hand was any different from his right hand so when he was born and the doctor laid him on me and we saw his hand for the first time there was a fleeting moment where I thought (and said aloud), “What is wrong with his hand?” And I truly hate, hate, hate that that will forever be my first thought when seeing my second-born, but it was. Immediately, my wonderful doctor quickly and calmly dismissed it and said something along the lines of, “Oh, he’s all right, that happens sometimes – it might have been an umbilical band [it wasn’t] – but he’s just fine.” And he was just fine and perfect. I will forever be grateful to her for that moment of assurance and peace because it has set my mind and my heart on track every moment since then. And I didn’t cry then, so how could I cry over these other moments – it’s all in how we react in the moment that will help set the tone for Jack, to teach him that, though he is different, it’s no big deal and he can’t let it get him down.

Another friend and I were talking about this and she asked if I thought Jack was sad about his hand. And the easy answer is not yet but I’m sure he will probably be frustrated by it in the future, and yes, sad. So we take the moments that come now and set the stage for the future, teaching him how to react until it is second nature. I hope we are teaching him to not hold himself back, to challenge himself when he’s faced with possible limitations. It’s just like with both boys, how we have always reacted neutrally when they have fallen down and don’t make a big deal out of these falls and it has taught them to brush the little spills off and to pop right back up, unphased (something that never ceases to amaze others who see it); this is what we are showing to Jack, when he thinks he can’t do something, he can try a different way and see if that works and if he feels sad about his hand, he can buck up and remember that everyone is different in one way or another. So far, so good. Though I should note that I do want to be careful that we aren’t dismissing valid feelings, because his hand will likely make him feel a whole variety of things that we will have to cope with and he needs to know that it’s also okay to have those feelings – but not to dwell on those that aren’t helpful.

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And this has absolutely nothing to do with the above, but it’s just a cute story that happened with Jack. Often when the boys say, “I want [something].” I respond with, “Well, I want a million dollars. We don’t always get what we want.” This happened today when Jack asked to watch TV and a few minutes later he walked over to me and put his hands in mine and said, “Here’s a million dollars… can’t I watch TV now?” [I totally turned on the television.]

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Posted in Life in general, Parenting, Symbrachydactyly

And so it begins…

Posted on November 3, 2011 | 1 comment

Jack got in trouble this evening for not listening and he poured on the tears and said, “I want my daddy!” Over and over again, blinking purposefully while the tears squeezed out of his eyes. I thought this phrase would crush me, but I felt indifferent because I knew I wasn’t in the wrong – perhaps more serious-toned than I needed to be, but not wrong. It’s my job as a parent to correct my kids when they do something wrong, to teach them the right things to do in life and they aren’t always going to like it. In fact, as they get older, they will often hate it and sometimes even hate me (that might crush me a little bit). Yet, it’s these little moments now that will shape the parent I’m going to become and in turn will shape the adults my boys will grow into, which is why it’s so important not to give in to the tears and the woeful words. No matter how cute the pleading face is or ridiculous the point is that I’m trying to make (in this case it was that we don’t climb in the fridge and stand there while saying, “I have an idea… I want something.”) Because if I give in now, eventually I’ll give in to the bigger things and I’ll create two entitled little monsters and there are more than enough of those in the world. If you think about it (not too hard), my saying “no” now is really a public service for future generations. You are welcome.

P.S. It’s only going to get harder from here, God give me strength. Seriously, parenting is not for the faint of heart.

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Posted in Parenting

The difference a year makes

Posted on October 12, 2011 | 1 comment

The photo above was from almost exactly one year ago. We spent the afternoon at Frog Hollow Park with our good friends, the DeBaets’ and had so much fun (obviously). Jack was the magical age of 20 months old and obviously thrilled with life.

Here are my observations about this past year, many things have changed but many things remain the same.

Since then, Sarah and Brian have added another little guy to their family – we love baby Wesley!
Sarah and I made plans on Friday to go to Frog Hollow with all the boys, but ended up just going to their house as a Sarah was worn out after a morning doctor’s appointment – what a difference an extra child makes.
Instead, we ended up going to Frog Hollow on Sunday as a family; as usual we stopped at Sonic on our way for half-off slushies.
On our way home we braved a new restaurant and tried the Beltline Bar – we decided that we like Little Mexico better and that people named Ben David should not be servers.
Jack was wearing two layered onesies – I was just thinking the other day how I miss the cute, soft onesies but that it had been FOREVER since Jack wore one, but really, not that long ago.
Liam still does the some of the same things at Frog Hollow that he did last year – swings, balance beam, slide – but he’s now added monkey bars and scaling the “rock” wall to his repertoire.
Jack is still thrilled with life, but not nearly has happy about it. As proof, I offer this photo I shared on Facebook yesterday, of Jack at the magical age of 30 months: