Tonight, when I was putting Jack to sleep, I sneezed and he said: G'bess you daddy. It's so strange the things he picks up when he's away from home. I forget he has this whole life of his own, even though he only spends part of the day at daycare. he picks u new songs, new sayings... The other morning I woke up to him singing in his crib. He was standing there, singing a song about wanting to sleep in a fire station.
I just wish there was some way to slow things down a little. He changes so much, week to week, even day to day. I actually speak with poor grammar sometimes because I don't want his little expressions to change. For example, whenever a song he doesn't know comes on the radio he says: What called this one, daddy? Who singing it? Or someone he doesn't know passes sometimes he'll say: Who is him, daddy?
More of his personality traits:
He fights us nearly every night when he goes to sleep right now. He wants to read one mo' book, over and over. And then he has a fit when he finally has to go into the room. You give me one mo' chance! One mo' chance! He hangs on to mommy for as long as he can, before demanding me. Tonight, while he was alone in there for a few minutes, yelling, he banged his head on the rail of his crib on purpose and then started yelling that he hurt his head. He hasn't done this since he was a baby, hurt himself deliberately, and the sight caught me totally off guard and really upset me. I ran in and yelled at him: You never, ever do that again! That's bad, Jack, bad!
And he started crying so hard, those little gasping sobs, and held on to me, and I felt about as bad as possible. It's just to see him hurt himself like that, it knots my stomach. Terrifies me, because it reminds me how much power this little person has over me. He matters more than anything else, he's like all the eggs and the basket and crazy little drunken tyrant holding the basket with all your eggs in it... I get upset when he hits me, but it really does hurt exponentially more when he hurts himself. It's like someone has literally removed some vital organ of yours - your heart? your lungs?- and now that part of you is out there, in the world, exposed and vulnerable and it has feet! It's like watching your beating heart run around on little feet, if that makes any sense.
When I picked him up from friends today, he was helping to clean outside, throwing shovels and pails and toys into the sandbox. He was wearing a big Yankees cap and windbreaker and he looked so big...
Afterwards, we played outside on the big rock. He climbs up it and jumps to me. I roll down the hill after him. HE says he's Buzz, from Toy Story, and says: Watch me daddy, to imfinimy and beyond!
Before he fell asleep tonight, I told him it was the weekend after tomorrow, and he said: And we can do whatever we want! We can go to the museum or somefing. We can go books. We can go to the mall and get a waffle. We can go cone (corn) maze...
Sunday, September 13, 2009
I've been meaning to set up a blog to keep track of Jack's unstoppable mutant growth for a long time - I feel really badly I didn't do it earlier, but I kept thinking there'd be some big milestone or moment that would make it easy to start... Instead it's been these little things happening every week, every day, small changes that sneak up on me and make me do a double take.
I guess the bottom line is better late than never. Jack is 2 years and 8 mos. old right now... How to describe him? There's nothing he can't say anymore. It's funny, it feels like yesterday we were counting his words -uh-oh, da-da, ma-ma, buh (bus), ga-ga... Now he speaks in full sentences. Today, for example, we took him to the Brooklyn Book Festival and a local paper had a mascot walking around, a guy in an eagle costume, and Jack spotted him and said, "Yook, daddy, a eagle! What?! Dat's ridiculous!" When I stop to think about it, it makes me happy, but also sad and terrified - he's a little boy already. (If he heard me say that, he'd correct me: "No, daddy, I'm a big boy.) So I guess there's nothing left to do but start writing...
Facts about him:
Sings to himself in the morning, when he wakes up (It's raining, it's pouring...).
Sleeps with his little stuffed polar bear and a toy lollipop.
Sits on the potty but hasn't used it yet (he has a riding toy waiting for him in the garage!).
Loves all Pixar movies (esp. Cars) and cheesy bunnies.
Has an imaginary friend named tickle duck who bears a strange resemblance to my right hand.
Is much more macho than his father (he loves trucks, emergency and construction vehicles...).
Throws a tantrum every night when he has to go to sleep (he just finished minutes ago...sigh).
Is so cute it's evil.