Friday, December 28, 2012

Things I'll Forget / Quote of the Day

Quote of the day ...

Me: "Do you want Cereal?"
R: "No."
Me: "How about Milk?"
R: "No."
Me: "Scrambled Eggs?"
R: "No."
Me: "Blocks?"
R: "No."
Me: "Coloring?"
R: "No."
Me: "Blue's Clues?"
R: "No ... Oh! I mean Yes."

2012-11-24 13.01.58

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Tuesday, December 11 ... 1 year, 8 months

a.k.a 20 months, but that officially sounds pretentious.


Adorable things he says and does ...

  • "Read it", putting a book (or CD insert) in my face.
  • "Flying", flapping his arms. Not sure where this one came from.
  • "Bee-Boo", a.k.a. "Peek-a-boo", often while grabbing my iPhone out of my hands, even though he has a perfectly good one of his own.
  • "Bee-Bee", a.k.a "Booby".
  • "This one", pointing to whichever booby he wants.
  • "Dyo", \'d-\, a.k.a "Dora". This is a weird one, because I remember something about banning Dora and and Dora/Diego paraphernalia from my home. hmmm ...
  • Oh, and somehow he's ditched Blue's Clues for Dora

  • "Foo-Fah", a.k.a "Football". 
  • He counts and answers the question "how many?", but he always answers "Two". When we try to get him to say "One", he just thinks we're counting and says "Two", but I can't argue with his logic.
  • He sings the ABC song, and rocks at "G".
  • "Eh-Mo", e.k.a. "Elmo". I had also banned Elmo, but caved pretty soon. I guess it's not THAT bad. I will not have an Tickly-Me-Anything in my house. I may have threatened to tell R that Elmo is dead if anyone gives him Elmo toys for Christmas.
  • "Gih-Gih", a.k.a. "Gipper" (the dog). 
  • "No". Right now it's actually cute. His brow gets all furrowed and he sort of asks it "... No?" Or else it's sort of like "No, thank you", like if someone asked you, "Would you like another [blank]?",  "Oh, thank you for asking. Not right now." And he's figured out the Books and Tigger mean it's nap time. So often the answer to "Do you want to read a book?" is "NO!" because he thinks we're trying to get him down for a nap.
  • He hops like a pro. I often award bonus points for connecting the elements, like in Gymnastics.
  • Speaking of Gymnastics, I think Circus camp will be the way to go with this one. He likes to balance when standing on my leg (or stomach), putting his arms out and standing really still. He also walks the "balance beam" (the wood divider between the sidewalk and the tree bed) when we're out walking the dog. I saw a Groupon about a Mommy-and-Me gymnastics class in Flushing; totally Can't Get There From Here though, but it sounds PERFECT for him!
  • He helps us cook.

  • 2012-12-01 08.54.24

    • He occupies himself with the iphone (and Gramma's iPad). He's actually really good at it; my old 3 that he has is not passcode locked, so he can swipe it open himself.




    • He makes the best "I'm smiling" face




    • Every paw print is a Clue (including the one on our dog).


    • He'll sit alone in his room and read ... though only when we have other kids over.

    2012-11-17 15.38.08

    • He does the Heismann pose.

    2012-11-24 13.08.16
    (the backstory of this ... we watch a lot of football, obviously. There is a Aflac commercial with the Duck playing football, and gives money to a guy all in bandages doing the heisnamm pose.)

    Other milestones:

    • We met cows.


    (that's Natalie, my friend's daughter. She knows a lot about her Grampa's cows. We also discovered that Rowan is terrified of Cows and Natalie is terrified of elevators. It was like City Mouse and Country Mouse.)

    • He got a Passport.

    Rowan Passport Pic
    (also this will be his passport picture until he's 18, which just makes me smile)

    • Mommy gave him a haircut!




    On the nursing front, he's totally starting to ease up on it. He goes DAYS without even asking for it. The only regular booby time is first thing in the morning on weekdays. If he sleeps in (past 7, which is unusual) he won't ask of it (shocking! He gets enough sleep and he's not a clingly mess? I wonder if he notices?!). And now on Saturdays when he gets up with Daddy, he doesn't need his booby time before getting up, which means mommy gets to stay asleep!!!

    ** Have you guys heard about this "get in the picture" movement? It's all about being in pictures with your kids no matter how gross or fat you feel.


    Nursing Vacation

    You know how sometimes I'm all "I need a break from Facebook", or "I need a break from my family", and I run away for a few hours? This weekend baby did that with nursing. He just didn't. For DAYS.

    From Friday morning through Tuesday morning, I didn't nurse once. Didn't even ask for it.

    After the first day, I was all, "Wow. Neat. He went all day without nursing. Interesting."

    After the second day, I was all, "Wait. What's going on here? Is he weaning himself?"

    After the third day, I was all, "HE'S LEAVING ME!!!!!" and I immediately fast-forwarded to the day he is going to leave for college and never come back.

    Then this morning he was all "BOOBIES!" and we snuggled in bed for an hour.

    (side note, he did the cutest thing this morning. Every few minutes he'd stop, grab a pillow and lie down by himself. I foolishly thought he was just going to go back to sleep. But then he'd pop up and say "Boobies?!" And I'd ask which one he wanted, and he'd point to the one he wanted. I'd uncover the booby and he'd get real close and whisper ". . . boobies". Like he was whispering sweet nothings to my boobies.

    It was so fracking cute. ... and little disturbing.)

    Sunday, December 9, 2012

    It could have been so much worse ...

    So today baby and I were out and about. We went to the ATM, the Pet Store, and to the Library. As we were going through the library's front door, I held it open for a woman, dressed in red, and a man, tall, dressed in brown. The woman in red said thank you as she passed through ... 

    ... and the man in brown punched me.

    Now, I wasn't hurt. That's not the point. And it's not like he was just an ass and just bumped into me. He punched me with his fist.

    So I was all, "HEY! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT!?". So he turned around and glared at me, and then ran out the door.

    So I turned to the room and yelled, "That guy just hit me!"

    And no one seemed fussed.

    So I picked up my kid, and yelled louder. "THAT GUY JUST HIT ME!"

    A women checking out her books asked if I was ok and I yelled "NO!"
    "Do you want me to get you some water?" she asked.
    "No, I need someone to call the police," I yelled.
    "Oh ... sorry", she said, and returned to checking out her books.

    At this point I had started shaking. You know that I-almost-got-hit-by-a-bus shaking? That fight-or-flight shaking?

    The woman behind the counter at the book checkout wasn't noticing anything, so I went over to the information desk to get someone to help me. There was a woman at the desk talking to someone about fucking late fees or fucking periodicals or something, and also did not seem to notice that I was shaking and crying uncontrolably. Finally another librarian came up to me and asked if there was anything she could do.

    "Yes, you can call the police."

    Luckily this lady had a brain and immediately called the police. I told them what happened and they said they'd come right over. Oh, and apparently half and hour is "coming right over" to the NYPD.

    On the bright side, the child was completely brilliant through this whole thing. It was as if he realized that something was off and needed to keep it together for his mother's sake. It wasn't until after I got off the phone with the police that he started whining that he wanted books; the fact that we were in a library and he kept his love for books and pulling them off of their respective shelves under control for that long was very impressive.

    At this point I took him upstairs to the kids' room and tried to have a good time. It didn't work very well. About a half hour later the police came and took my official statement, but said that there really wasn't much they could do because I didn't get a really good look at him and didn't see which way he went. I figured as much.

    So, yeah, I was shaken up. But it should be done, right?

    Well, it's almost 1am, and I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes I see what COULD have happened. He could have hit my kid. He could have grabbed my kid and ran. The fact that this guy was a homeless crazy person doesn't make it better. It means that he could have also had a knife or a gun. He could have punched me in the face or the stomach instead of my arm and back. I could have fallen and hurt the kid I was holding. He could have stabbed me and I could have died, holding my son. It happened so fast that I didn't have time to get a good look, so if he had grabbed the kid and ran, would have I reacted fast enough to chase him?

    It could have been so much worse.

    So what do I do with that? How to I sleep when there is not a god-damn thing I can do about the next crazy person at the library or the supermarket or on the street as I walk past. How do I leave the house, with our without the kid, when I can't control the crazy person who's going to hurt one of us? I can do everything right in raising this kid, but I can't control everyone else.

    Wednesday, December 5, 2012


    Is it bad that when I yell at the kid for being annoying, and he bursts into tears simply at my raised voice, I feel super powerful? Like I have actual magical powers. Or that I'm Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada or something.

    Little Boy Hair, an Analysis

    There is a fine line for little blonde boys and their hair. A fine line that runs between Super cute and completely trashy. Observe.

    Here we have an adorable little boy. The hair is just long enough to be pushed aside. We'll call this one "Short and fine."

    Here we have hair a little longer, and we're not sure if this is a boy or a girl. We had problems with people calling him a girl when he didn't have any hair, I don't want to make it worse. We'll call this one "Androgynous".

    Here we have a creepy little child with hair long enough to be styled. We're going to call this "Preppy".

    Niall Horan
    Here is the blonde one from One Direction. His hair is sort of a reverse mullet - Party in the Front, Business in the Back. We're going to call this one "Tousled Preppy".

    Here's a picture of Harry, just because. I sort of love him. We're going to call this one "Really Tousled Preppy".

    This is a Mullet. Pretty self-explanatory. I do not want my child to have a Mullet.

    This one's a little better. we'll call this "Independent Middle-Schooler".

    BAH! Too Far!!! W'll call this one "Shaggy Angry Teen".

    There we go! This is freaking adorable. This is what I want. We'll call this one "Adorable".

    Ok, so the problem arises when you have to pass through Mullet, through Shaggy Angry Teen, just to get to Adorable. And then what if the sides don't grow (like last time) -- then you're stuck with a combination Mullet/Donald Trump.

    The other problem arises when I have to decide whether I myself should cut it. Here's the issue: I take a lot of pictures on Christmas, and I don't want him to have 1) a Mullet, like he has now or 2) a Bad Haircut. So do I let it grow and risk it being Shaggy Angry Teen on Christmas morning, or do I cut it now, leaving time to go past Bad Haircut and maybe get to Preppy?

    All I know is THIS is unacceptable.