Ahhh, your first time in a pool. You just turn five months and here we are risking your life with PLASTICS and WATER all at the same time. If you listen carefully, you'll hear your dad and second cousin Troy discussing - surprise, surprise - the Oilers. And the Chris Pronger Trade. Oh, sweet Moses. The Chris Pronger Trade. It'll be in the history books, Jack. I'm assuming it must be the sporting event of the century given how much your dad has discussed, dissected, and opined about it. There is no greater sin in life, dear Jack, then asking to be traded by the Oilers. Murder, assault, New York crime boss. They don't hold a candle to asking to leave the Oilers. Just be glad you were too young to remember hearing about this every single day for the entire 2006 hockey off season. BE VERY GLAD.
Love,
Your Momma
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Monday, July 24, 2006
Five Months
Last week you turned five months after putting your poor, poor momma through two and a half weeks of pure parental torture. If you didn't have that goofy grin and such huge earning potential in the next 25 years, I think I may have shoved you inside the gas company payment envelope and asked them to charge us a little extra every month in exchange for taking our screaming banshee of a son. But, last week, just like the sun breaking through a cluster of thunder clouds, the you that you were before those two and half weeks came back. Apparently, you were just as disturbed as I was about the annual return of the Calgary Stampede and just needed to get it out of your system. I completely understand.
This past month you've been so anxious to try out new things. You've fallen madly, deeply, strangely in love with the Jolly Jumper. It's gotten to the point that when I burp you over my shoulder, you automatically begin bobbing up and down, up and down. It's as if you want to say, "Hey, milkmaid, hurry along here. I got me some fierce hopping to do." And you grin and you grin as you spin and boing and drool in your little blue heaven.
But, water has also become a friend of yours that vies for your fickle affections. Sort of like my boyfriends in elementary school. One day, your dancing to Every Breathe You Take in your friend's basement with the boy with curly red hair, and the next week you are sure you will be living in California in your white-carpeted apartment with white cat and white Fiero with the boy who shared the purple Fizz candy with you. You've taken to splashing up a mean tidal wave in the bathtub and wildly flailing the water off your high chair tray. And you were a regular Jacque Cousteau your first time in the blow-up pool. This time is so much better than the first few baths your dad and I gave you when you first arrived and you would cry like we were trying to make you solve fractional calculus before feeding you.
One of the best moments of my day is coming to get you out of bed in the morning. The moment you see me, your face lights up with that smile that just eats your whole face. It's like your cheeks expand exponentially beyond your face to make room for the widest, happiest mouth known to man. My second favorite time is at night when I come to check on you as you sleep. You are so peaceful, so perfect. I wouldn't trade a moment of it for anything on earth. You are my crazy, busy, charming, adorable boy. I love you sweet pea.
Love,
Your Momma
This past month you've been so anxious to try out new things. You've fallen madly, deeply, strangely in love with the Jolly Jumper. It's gotten to the point that when I burp you over my shoulder, you automatically begin bobbing up and down, up and down. It's as if you want to say, "Hey, milkmaid, hurry along here. I got me some fierce hopping to do." And you grin and you grin as you spin and boing and drool in your little blue heaven.
But, water has also become a friend of yours that vies for your fickle affections. Sort of like my boyfriends in elementary school. One day, your dancing to Every Breathe You Take in your friend's basement with the boy with curly red hair, and the next week you are sure you will be living in California in your white-carpeted apartment with white cat and white Fiero with the boy who shared the purple Fizz candy with you. You've taken to splashing up a mean tidal wave in the bathtub and wildly flailing the water off your high chair tray. And you were a regular Jacque Cousteau your first time in the blow-up pool. This time is so much better than the first few baths your dad and I gave you when you first arrived and you would cry like we were trying to make you solve fractional calculus before feeding you.
One of the best moments of my day is coming to get you out of bed in the morning. The moment you see me, your face lights up with that smile that just eats your whole face. It's like your cheeks expand exponentially beyond your face to make room for the widest, happiest mouth known to man. My second favorite time is at night when I come to check on you as you sleep. You are so peaceful, so perfect. I wouldn't trade a moment of it for anything on earth. You are my crazy, busy, charming, adorable boy. I love you sweet pea.
Love,
Your Momma
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Kissing Cousin
Your cousin Alyce has had very little interest in you since you've been born. Other than giving you a head butt one night, trying to poke you in the eye several times, and violently rocking your car seat carrier, she hasn't been exceptionally intrigued by the wonder that is you. And as you will see here, you continue to simply be an obstacle by which she must pass in order to get what she truly wants. Just remember that when she's begging you to invite all your hot toddler friends to her Lilo and Stitch movie parties. You'll get her back, Jack. You'll get her back.
Love,
Your Momma
Love,
Your Momma
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