No It All

I just got the most overdue piece of mail from that innovator of all innovators, Pacific Gas & Electric.  It appears that PG&E has just joined us in the 21st century… welcome!

Unfortunately, for those economic data crunchers out there in dark rooms with big computers, there will be new jobless claims to add to the tally.  This piece of mail I’ve just received… announces the end of the meter reader.  GASP!

This ridiculous job is finally following its predecessor, the milk man.  No offense to you meter readers out there, but I’d be more apt to fight for the renaissance of the milk man… you should see how many sippy cups this kid drinks.

Dear meter readers and meter readettes of the United States, sometimes you just need a kick in the pants to update your skills.  I mean, it seemed a little crazy that a meter reader enters every side yard in America to write down energy usage each and every month, right?  You’re home in your skivvies and all of a sudden you duck down by the couch, “Who’s out there?… maybe its some raccoons?  Oh no, just the meter reader, phew.”

Almost 20 years ago when we all started using e-mail and the internet, you probably knew your days were numbered.  I bid you good luck in your future endeavors!  And if you’re looking for a steady milk delivery job, please feel free to knock on the side door during your final farewell visit.

Jacob is on the precipice of an addiction.  Up until now, he’s been pretty nonchalant.  Take it or leave it, whatever.  But now, now I am sensing the beginnings of a Nuk addiction.  James denies it… I have proof.

Hi, my name is Jaimie and I’m a recovering Nukaholic.  I’ve been sober for 28 years, 3 months, and 14 days.

As a fellow Nukaholic, I feel it is time for me to step in.  I don’t want Jakey to go through what I went through.  Let’s just say, I have two distinct Nuk-Nuk memories from childhood.  The first is when my mom took my Nuk-Nuk away and put it at the back of the counter of her bathroom sink.  I could clearly see it, but it was just out of reach.  Total torture.

The other memory is of laying on my back in the dentist chair staring up into a fuzzy light.  My mom and Dr. Ceresa are peering into my mouth.  “Her mouth is the shape of a pacifier.”  I swear, that’s what he said.  Obviously, my Nuk addiction was something fierce; my parents have my Nuk-Nuk dipped in pewter on their dining room hutch.

So, I’ve decided it’s time for Jakey to go on the new 12 Step program for Nukaholics.  Based on similarly successful programs, I’m hoping this will do the trick.  Otherwise, we’re going to have to reciprocate and send all the Nuk-Nuks to Washington DC to Baby Killoff…

Nukaholics Anonymous 6 Step Program

(I just learned that the original 12 Step program is way too churchy for my taste… who knew?!  It also can be condensed into 6 steps… I’ve always believed less is more.)

1. Admitting that one cannot control one’s addiction or compulsion.  (This is probably going to be the hardest step.  Jakey is in denial, and telling the truth is not his forte.  Tonight I took off his shirt and he had a clear bite mark on his shoulder.  Teacher Linda C. told me that one of the little girls was in trouble today for biting.  This anonymous little ladybug obviously bit Jake when no one was looking.  I asked, “Jakey, did Hannah bite you?”  “No.”  “Did Emi bite you?” “No.”  There aren’t any other girls in the ladybug class.  Jakey may be bad at admitting when he has a problem, but he’s obviously got your back.)

2. Recognizing a greater power that can give strength.  (Recognize the Mama.)

3. Examining past errors with the help of a sponsor (experienced member).  (I am fully qualified to be his NA sponsor.  I’m a familiar shoulder to cry on.  I answer late night calls.  I’m loving and tough when I need to be.  And I’ve conquered my addiction.  People who used to smoke always talk fondly about cigarettes.  I have to admit, I have tasted a Nuk in the last 6 months, but only because my little Nukaholic has been trying to recruit friends.  It’s been tough, but I’ve been able to resist his peer pressure.)

4. Making amends for these errors.  (Jake may be able to get through this step fairly unscathed as I’m not sure how many people he’s hurt due to his addiction.  HOWEVER, yesterday he was reprimanded for “hitting babies” at school.  I think he can start off with making amends with all the poor little babies he’s been hitting.)

5. Learning to live a new life with a new code of behavior.  (Perfectly stated– I wouldn’t change a thing.)

6. Helping others that suffer from the same addictions or compulsions.  (Luckily this is the last step of NA.  His current “help” would probably consist of popping the Nuk-Nuk out of someone else’s mouth, quick putting it in his own, and running off.)

Jakey, it’s going to be hard.  You’re not going to like it.  Your daddy and your grantmother will probably be a bad influence.  But I’m your NA sponsor.  One day at a time.  One day at a time.

We are all guilty of prejudice.  It’s human nature.  And we all know that prejudging is generally negative and implies fear and intolerance. 

I must confess, I discriminate against sippy cups.  Yes, it’s true.

There are two kinds of sippy cups in this world: the good and the bad.  The good kind work like a bottle; you tip them up like a cup to drink from them.  The bad kind look good but they’re not.  They look like baby sports bottles with fancy straws that bend when you close the top.  You sit upright and drink from them like a straw in a soda fountain glass.

How did this sippy cup prejudice originate, you ask?

It’s the 5 o’clock Jake-up call.  I stumble into the kitchen and put Jakey’s sippy cup in hot water.  He does not enjoy cold milk.  Once it’s warm I get him out of his crib, baby in one arm, sippy cup in the other.  I’m standing in the dark at the side of our bed and open the top before laying him by his dad to drink his breakfast.  Jake and I are both rudely awakened by a geyser of milk right in our faces.  I’m shocked and disoriented.  What is happening?!  I fumble with the baby and the evil sippy cup and somehow stop the source of the morning milk shower.

A few days later, poor Teacher Linda C. recounts a similar episode at school.  Sprayed in the face like a tricky clown flower.  We have now formed a club of two in our movement to keep bad sippy cups from entering our borders.  There is already an Arizona ballot measure in the works.

When I was little, my brother was all about intent.  If we were playing and he got hurt or something hit him he’d immediately cry, “She did it by PURPOSE!”  Only it sounded more like “She did it by PORPOISE!”  Like I had purposely hit him in the head with a dolphin or something…  Frankly, for the record, at least 50% of the time I am sure that I was demonized for something that was pure clumsiness.  Although sometimes let’s face it, he totally deserved it…

Jake is equally confused regarding this concept of intent.  Lately he’s been throwing things off his high chair or dropping things from high places and exclaiming, “Uh Oh!”  (Pronounced Uh Ewww)

Uh, look kiddo, when you purposely throw something it is not Uh Oh.  Well, unless maybe it’s a porpoise.

Dr. Nancy always has really good advice.  My favorite is one of her go to’s: Don’t worry.  Have you ever seen an adult walking around with X?  (insert big belly button, whites of the eye that are gray, pink splotchy neck, etc.)

I remind myself of this when the sunlight catches Jakey’s hair.  Ever since he was an itty bitty baby, he’s had this peninsula of blond hair that goes from his hairline down to his left eyebrow and back up.  I refer to it as “Florida.”

I’ve been thinking that of course this hair anomaly would fall out and one day I’d say “Awwww, Florida is gone.  How sad.”  Then again, I also thought my son would have more than a dusting of hair by 13 months given his parents’ thick mops.

I can still see Florida in the sunshine.  Sometimes I have to remind myself of Dr. Nancy’s advice… When was the last time you saw an adult who’s hairline went down and touched their eyebrow and back up again?  Never, right?  Right?   (If you have… maybe you shouldn’t tell me.)

Jakey has met his nemesis.  And her name is Emi.  I admit, not your usual nemesis name.

On the forms in the Teacher Linda C. binder there was one with silly kid categorization: flexible, fearful, feisty.  The “flexible” box was checked for Jake.  Without a doubt, Emi is feisty… and Jake is getting feistier.

Emilia is wicked smart and super cute.  She’s the only almost 2 year old that says everything with perfect clarity.  She knows what everything is.  I point to paintings on the window and she can yell out the right answer, without hesitation.  When compared to Emi, all the other little kids talk like they have peanut butter in their mouths.

She is definitely the alpha dog and Jake is oblivious to the fact that he is smaller, weaker, and wobblier.  The other day I went to pick him up and he walked up to Emi and pushed her in a very ungentlemanly way.  In one swift movement she put her hand on his chest and shoved him straight down on his padded bottom.  Flattened.

Last week we received our first incident report.  Jake fell while getting out of the sandbox and ended up with his first shiner.  Unfortunately, I don’t think his new “tougher” look did anything to intimidate his nemesis.  They have a love/hate relationship.  They kind of want to hug each other, but hugging and pushing are easily confused at this age.

I’ve told Jakey never to mess with Emi, but he just doesn’t listen.  Sometimes he tries to beat her on volume.  This would be impossible.  She has the ability to scream in such a way that it will knock your little blue shoe booties right off!  And now I think Emi has the power to possess the body of others.  I told you she’s wicked smart.  The other night I was convinced she had broken into our house and climbed into Jakey’s crib.  She was screaming her hysterical, insane scream.  A scream we’ve only heard at day care, never out of the mouth of our little bald housemate.

Now the mimic and the nemesis have joined forces.  The world may never be safe again.

I’m certain that we will look back on these days in skeptical wonderment.  We’ll say, “What?  There was a time when we thought “no” was cute?  Unheard of!  Impossible!  Ridiculous!”  (Yes, our future selves will be saying these things with a British accent as well.)

It started a month or two back.  Jakey would shake his head back and forth and growl.  Apparently Daddy taught him that doggie’s grab things with their teeth and shake their heads back and forth while growling.  Every time we’d say no Jake would smile and shake his head back and forth knowingly.  The fact that he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing was completely lost on him.  He thought we were just playing the doggie game… all the time.

Now he’s started saying “no,” but in a cute way.  He seems to sense when we’re asking him questions and he’ll say “yeah” or “no” in a casual, conversational way.  “Jakey, is it bath time?”  “No.”  (But in the same way you might say, “nah”… not too loud, a comment in passing.  I’m sure the day is just around the corner when he’ll say it with gusto.

When I was about 3 this was my favorite word and I can still say it with the same feeling, oomph, pout and furrowed eyebrows.  NoooooOOOOOOOoooooooo MoOoM!

Till then, we’re going to enjoy these few weeks when “no” is still cute.

James is in Jake’s room putting his socks and shoes on in the morning before school.  Jaimie is in her bare feet.

Jaimie, “Ew.  What is on the bottom of my foot?”

James, “Where?”

Jaimie, “Is that what I think it is?”

James, “I couldn’t help it!  He had a conniption when I was changing his diaper.”

Jaimie, “You have got to be kidding me.”

I am convinced the makers of Kool-Aid have repackaged this forbidden childhood drink.  They are calling it VitaminWater and charging 2 bucks.  Don’t be fooled by the fancy, nutritious-sounding name.

Teacher Linda C.’s Jakey Binder is a blogging gold mine.  This picture forever commemorates the day Mommy forgot Jakey’s lunch on the counter…  So, I went to the “Grab & Go” to find baby friendly foods for a 9-month old.  What did I find?  A cheese platter featuring 2 butterfly crackers, Jake’s first strawberry, and pepper jack cheese.  Perfect.

At the time, we laughed unknowingly.  Ha ha ha!  He ate all the pepper jack cheese.  That Jakey.

This weekend we spent an afternoon in San Jose’s Japantown as I was doing some research for my other writing gig: James’ monthly mailing (http://www.jamesfucillo.com/building-character.asp).  Our Japantown is one of only three left in the United States!  If you want to learn more, keep your eyes peeled for the May edition of Building Character.  In any case, we decided the perfect evening would include sushi of course.

Jake was all smiles in the restaurant, probably in part because he loves all women who remotely resemble Teacher Linda C.  They began our meal with little complementary bowls of pickled or fermented bean sprouts of some kind.  Immediately, MO(re) started up in his primary colored high chair.  You want some of this?  OK.

He loved it.

The experiment was on.

Jake ate tofu.  Big bites of pickled ginger.  Tempura.  Bite after bite of raw tuna sashimi.  He was certain we were feeding him with drum sticks, which just made it all the more exciting.

A picture of Jake’s Japanese dinner buffet.

MO tuna MO sashimi MO raw MO fish.

The one and only thing Jacob spit out at dinner: white rice.