wild*life

Jake’s car seat has been facing forward for quite some time now.  He loves it because he’s part of the conversation… and he’s like a little king in his backseat thrown, declaring, proclaiming, and decreeing his every thought.

Frankly, I’ve been ignoring the majority of the important comings and goings of the world around me, for the bulk of my life.  For example, I was completely unaware of the number of goggies (doggies) in the world.  In our neighborhood alone there are gazillions.  Followed closely by quite a few tee tats (kitty cats).  And birdies.  Our copilot is also acutely aware of “Running, running!” (joggers), airplanes, choo choos and Mama choo choos, caws (cars), hats, bicycles and helmets, “big bus” (buses), and trucks (still beginning with an f).

Over the last week or two, both my mom and James have experienced several moments of pause when we were passed by a “big truck.”  I was a bit more panicked when our car was overtaken by a fire truck.

Jakey The Copilot

This week is my first official full week off on baby leave.  Hallelujah.  Technically last Friday was my first free day.  James and I spent our Fandango card which has been gathering dust since October and saw The King’s Speech– good one.  And we went out to lunch.  And we had cupcakes and bought closet organizers.  It was a nearly perfect day.

Since then, the little melon and I have been cleaning closets.  You are probably saying, “Oh Jaimie, you’re just nesting.”  That could be true.  But I’m also one of those weird people who would love a quiet day just to clean closets.  The elfa closet organizers we bought have a tagline that says “Happiness is a clean closet.”  I couldn’t agree more.  Those Swedes know what they’re talking about.

Now little Cillo has some space of their own in Jakey’s World.

I had to put in some volunteer hours at Jake’s school today and Miss Dulce suggested organizing their storage closet.  She looked a little sheepish about it.

It was great.

In October, at 19 months, we went against my better judgement and extensive research regarding kids and media (experts recommend no electronic media at all before you’re two).  A coast-to-coast flight was staring us in the face and we were hopeful that cartoons could be our saviour.  And then, for some reason, James couldn’t find our portable DVD player or couldn’t charge it or didn’t want to lug it around or told me that thing was a portable DVD player when in fact it was some other unidentifiable electronic gadget he didn’t want me to know about… I’m not sure.

“Pssst, hey kid.  Want to try a little Handy Manny?  First taste is free.”  I’d say James is now Jakey’s dealer… introducing an addiction, without gaining any benefits during four airplane rides.  When Jake sees his dad he says things like “Mo Manny!  Tools.  Cracker.”

For those of you who aren’t up on the latest programming on the relatively advertisement-free Playhouse Disney (soon to change, inexplicably, to Disney Junior), Handy Manny is a somewhat bilingual cartoon about a handyman named Manny.  I assume his name is Manuel.  Manny lives in Sheetrock Hills and has 8 tools: a saw (Dusty), a hammer (Pat), a tapemeasure (Stretch), pliers (Squeeze), a wrench (Rusty), a Phillips head screwdriver (Felipe), a flathead screwdriver (Turner), and a new Mexican flashlight (Flicker).

James’ favorite tool is Squeeze.  He thinks she’s cute.  I find it weird that she’s the only tool that hovers above the ground like a ghost.  I like Turner.  James has identified him as the voice of all the parents that have to watch this cartoon.  Turner says sarcastic things like, “Of course Kelly has a sleigh runner at her hardware store– now we can fix Santa’s sled,” and then rolls his animated eyes.  I think Jake’s favorite tool is Pat.  He is always talking about hammers.

There was one weekend over the holidays when James was holding an open house and Jake and I were entertaining ourselves at home.  Before I know it, Jake runs down the hall into the bathroom and shuts the door.  Ha ha!  Then what I have always dreaded would happen, happens.  I hear the “click” which means he has pushed the forbidden lock button.  Jakey has not yet mastered turning doorknobs, just shutting doors.

There I am on one side of the door and he’s locked on the other side.  In the bathroom.  Where there is water and irresistible rolls of toilet paper and a counter of potentially dangerous things he’s not allowed to touch but can reach if he pushes his potty bench over to the sink.

“Jakey, turn the knob.  Turn it.”

“Turn it.  Turn it.”

“Jakey, open the door.  No pushing the button!”  I feel my anxiety beginning to rise.  What if I have to break the bathroom window to save him?  It’s raining outside.  What do I do?

“Open, Mama.  Open!”

In a panic I get the phone and call James.  “Jakey is locked in the bathroom and I can’t get him out!  What do I do?”

“What can I do about it?  I can’t leave, I’m in Sunnyvale.”

So I ask myself, “What would Handy Manny do?”  (OK, I didn’t really ask myself this… but it makes for a better story.)

I run to the kitchen drawer and frantically search for something to poke into the lock.  Luckily this is one of our only doorknobs that has a hole on the hallway side of the lock… some of them don’t.  I take the flathead screwdriver and desperately shove it in the lock.  “Pop.”  It’s a miracle!  The door opens and I envelope the unscathed Jakey in hugs and kisses.  Crisis averted.

Handy Mommy.  Just another reason Turner is my favorite.
 

Today I was laying out Jake’s clothes after his second shower of the morning.  Side note: he was “playing” the squeegee in the shower today like it’s a guitar, singing his new single… Nonna, Papa, Nonna, Papa.  It’s really catchy.

So I’m in his room and I hear “Uh oh, Mama.  Agua.  Agua.”

I don’t waste any time getting back to the bathroom where I find Jakey has used his potty for the first time!  Yes, new parents cheer about this… the very first glimpse of a diaper-free life.  There’s no light at the end of the tunnel, but at least there is a tunnel.  I’d say 70-30, floor-potty.  Considering the best so far has been naked sitting and “pretending” to flush it, this was a serious breakthrough.  We haven’t even started this whole process.

I’m sure Jacob won’t love this blog when he’s older, but fortunately at 22 months, he has no idea what I’m documenting.

Cillo and I are in the home stretch… just four more days of work.  And now that we’ve hit the “melons,” I’m doing my best to avoid the frequent labor flashbacks that come to mind without warning.

Friday the 13th, March, 2009: I remember thinking, with perfect clarity, there couldn’t be a more apt descriptive phrase than…

“Hurts like a motha…”

Even when Jacob was little, he had this knack for saying things that sounded like words, but clearly weren’t.  Lately, he’ll be doing various things such as playing with the squeegee in the shower, or rooting around in the tupperware drawer, repeating over and over “Some-uh-bic, Some-uh-bic, Some-uh-bic.”  We’re not really sure what he’s trying to say, but given its frequency, it clearly means something to him.

One of the first things he used to exclaim was, “Vi-ta-min!”  This was ages ago.  Before he even had vitamins.

Shortly thereafter, he was always bellowing “‘Bama!”  Of course, this was before Obama started to fall out of favor.

Oh my little Some-uh-bic.  Hmmm, that didn’t sound quite right…

My friend Emily wrote me a birthday card this year that talked about an article she had recently read.  In the article, it described the things that make people happy and pointed out that 1. experiences tend to make people happier than material posessions and 2. anticipation of something increases the enjoyment.

I’m still relishing how I’m going to spend my Fandango movie card when I take James on a matinee date next Friday…(thanks Em!)

And in this spirit, I decided I needed to do a little research on experiential presents for little kids.  Our social calendar has been quite different these days… we just attended our first “My Little Pony Seashell Sparkle Ariel Party” just last weekend.  Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

* Bug Ball: http://www.offthewallsoccer.com/cms/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=51:art-classes&catid=37:cat-classes&Itemid=63
* Happy Hollow Park & Zoo: www.hhpz.org
* Children’s Discovery Museum of San Jose: www.cdm.org
* Bay Area Discovery Museum: www.baykidsmuseum.org
* Petroglyph: www.petroglyph.com
* Cucina Bambini: www.cucinabambini.com
* My Gym: www.my-gym.com
* 529 College Savings Plan: www.scholarshare.com (Emily is also really good about personal finance… yes, she’s always had her $#%+ together)
* Monterey Bay Aquarium: www.montereybayaquarium.org
* San Francisco Zoo: www.sfzoo.org
* Oakland Zoo: www.oaklandzoo.org

And you won’t trip over these experiential presents while crossing your living room floor.

On Friday afternoon I had our last ultrasound with my doctor.  Our little cantaloupe is right on track at 5 lbs. and fortunately looks like a human– not an alien!  It was quite a different experience from our last ultrasound.

At our last ultrasound, we had this tech I’ve never seen before.  She literally said, “And that’s your kid.  There’s its brains.”  Wow lady.  Please go on… continue to describe my baby’s guts as though we’re looking at lunch meat.

Needless to say, my doctor was a dramatic improvement, “This baby is beautiful!  How adorable.”

That’s why she gets paid the big bucks.

Last night James was watching this show he likes called Brew Masters.  I see a man with white hair and a white beard, though strangely, pretty black eyebrows.  I think to myself, “Wait for it… wait for it…”

“Santa!”

I’m told Santa was also at the Farmer’s Market this morning.  That guy is everywhere.

I previously wrote a short post about Jakey’s newfound love of Santa.  We have these three carved wooden figures that I believe are supposed to be the three wise men, but have white beards and are therefore all known as “Santa.”  We couldn’t pack them up with the rest of the Christmas decorations because every morning, Jake likes to clutch them in his little hands on the ride to school.  Sometimes at night, we feed his baba to Santa.

Today we went to Amelia’s fourth birthday party and then on a nice walk through Natural Bridges to see the monarch butterflies.  There weren’t many butterflies, but we heard a lot of froggies, chased a bumble bee, and twirled around, pretending to “fly.”

I was carrying Jakey down the nice wooden boardwalk they’ve built (when I was little it was an eroding beach trail stampeded by hundreds of school children) when he says, “Santa!”  I mindlessly repeat, quite clearly, “Where’s Santa?” as he passes us.  I come to my senses and turn just in time to see a rotund old man, with a bushy white beard, wearing a red tye-died t-shirt.  I nearly peed my pants as I recounted the story to James.  Jakey laughed, too, at our little joke, “Funny Daddy, funny.”

Later, on our nature walk, we saw three deer running through a field and then down the road in front of us.  “Look Jakey, deer!  How special.”

“Santa!”

And his reindeer.