Johnny five alive

so Jett is five. It's freaking amazing. I almost have nothing to blog about. Almost.
He's still kind of a dick. Which might be due to the fact that he's been out of school for two weeks or because he's an only child. It remains to be seen. He was a total jerk with mischief ideas on Monday and I'm hoping he passes muster with the free babysitting g-ma tomorrow night for NYE. I can talk to him, pretty plainly, which is cool, but he's still kind if a joker which I would be proud of except that he's not as funny to everyone else as he us to us. So maybe no joking? Idk... Regardless, he's still way more awesome than a three-year-old and subsequently, life is good.

My life would be nothing without this a-hole kid

It's been a while, and I'm going to be sorry later that I didn't keep up with this to memorialize every month of my child's life. But life gets in the way!
Jett is almost 4. Maybe 33 lbs, 3' 3" and loves smoothies, berries, hotdogs and yogurt-covered raisins.
He was kind if an a-hole tonight. Had a little girlfriend over, but, while he had some shining, caring moments, was not all that generous or nice or tolerant of her. He's a bit of a stereotypical only-child 3-year-old, where sharing on his turf is like a cruel and unusual punishment. 'You want me to do what? But the whole basement is mine, right?' He's kind of a snotty little jerk a lot actually, but that might be the age, or Kenny's influence, or the only-child thing, or a killer combo of all three, but he's definitely testing boundaries. Sometimes it's comical. 'No, Jett, you don't make the rules.' Other times, it's downright infuriating and you just want to chuck a kid. But you don't and he moves on and you move on and everyone lives to fight another day.
Tonight he fell asleep in my arms. I'd just finished stories and motioned to leave when he asked that I cuddle for another minute. We were on our side facing each other and he took me head in both his hands and stared at me, then told me my hair needed to be brushed. Sweetheart. Then he smoothed it down and corrected himself that it looked fine. Thanks, Jett. Then he placed an arm over my arm and his other arm under my neck and my lips were resting against his forehead and it was just the perfect embrace. I was thinking to myself looking at the side of his perfect head how crazy it was that I'd made this person clinging to me now, when he shuddered as if falling. Which almost made me cry - that's what Kenny does every night, like clockwork. Like father, like son; they both literally "fall" asleep. So friggin cute. And just like that, his breathing got slower, then quickened, then deep mouth breathing, and I could have stayed like that for eternity. Except that I needed to lock doors and turn off lights and all that end-of-the-night stuff.
And all is forgiven. This kid is the best thing in my life, and on days, the worst thing. But that's what being a parent is like I guess. You love and hate these people in your life. Which makes you feel like a completely insane person with your signifying swing of emotions, but hey, all the other moms get it. It's like. For my troubles, I have this secret handshake into this exclusive moms club. 'Wait, your kid is a dick, too? No way!'  And it's nice to have this solidarity with other crazy women that decided to procreate just like you. It allows me to check my amount of wine consumption as normal...
Jett is the bomb.com at this age. Even on his WORST days, he's 1,000 better than infant Jett. He can use the bathroom by himself, at his own behest. He can wash hands, get snacks, get water, open the door to let the dog out, feed the dog, dress himself (not that he does), turn on the tv, receiver and DVD player to watch a movie, trike down the culdesac, draw stick men, make a Trader Joe's out of Legos, and take a shower. We're working on being a better listener and saying please and thank you without being prompted....these have been slow-going achievements...
He yells at us a lot, like, 'Mom, why'd you move my Legos?!?!' Which is fun especially whenI didn't   actually move his Legos... But he's smart and funny and devilishly handsome and we may just have to deal with a spoiled, only-child kid because this kid definitely isn't getting a sibling. Babies are for the birds. If I could birth a 2-year-old, I'd def consider it. For now, Jett is going to have to rely on a bunch of close friends and being spoiled...he's a great kid, albeit a bit of a jerk, and I cannot wait to see what 4 brings!!!

Sweet child of my-ee-eye-n (mine)

Before I get sidetracked in discussing just how awesome my kid is...

Jett is 3, as of last month. Weighs 30 lbs with clothes on. Is scrawny compared to most kids. He's a jokester and, like most 3-year-olds (I imagine), loves to be silly more than anything (a playful provoker - "No mommy, you're a party pooper! hahahahhahah" - that sort of thing. Most valuable 3-year-old skill thus far? Being able to complete the entire bathroom routine on his own, which he accomplished a couple of months ago. He's also still readily incentivized to feed Cash (the dog) or start the dishwasher or pick up toys with a single frozen M&M or Skittle ("skeeetle!"). We've been throwing change into the mix too, although candy is, offering instant gratification, far preferred over adding coins to his piggy bank and the potential of someday buying a new toy. 

He's into trains, motorcycles, Legos and the color pink (we can only buy Dora or Minnie bedtime Pull-Ups because he digs the color). He LOVES books and would have me read him 10 books before nap or bedtime if I would accommodate. Like any boy, he also loves his p-dog...His favorite people are Daddy/Mommy (tied for first, depends on the day) and Cash. When prompted last month about who should come to his birthday party, he singled us and the dog out as the only ones that would be allowed to sing him Happy Birthday ("no one else"). Nice to get some preferential treatment after 3-years of getting crapped on...lol. His friends are Samantha (Sara's 2.5-year-old daughter), Jackson & Addison (Kristen's 3- and 6-year-old), Audrey (Kate's 2.5-year-old) and baby Brody & Ryley (begrudgingly) (Nanny Jourdan's 4-month-old and 2.5-year-old). He also likes to play with the kids next door although they're older (5+) and speak mostly Spanish, but maybe he'll learn some Spanish to augment what he's getting from Dora the Explorer...

He just finished swim lessons with pal Jackson and he's no Olympic-track swimmer...I'm stoked that he can push off the steps with a pool noodle to float on and not have to have me hold him while in the water. Good enough for me! He's signed up for "Little Ninjas" (Tae Kwon Do) next Monday and we're on a wait list for Soccer with pal Jackson and I'm hoping he can get into both because this kid has some surplus energy to burn. He just started school this week at the local Montessori and although the parent handbook came off so, so pretentious, I'm hopeful that Jett will be far more challenged and actually learn some stuff since he seems like a smart kid with a desire to soak up some knowledge. Two days in...so far so good :)

Jett speaks in a fake language frequently, at least for this very brief period in time, and thinks it's a riot when I respond to him in kind. He just really started getting into Pixar movies, and will watch Wall-E and Finding Nemo in bed with us before going to his own room for nighttime routine. He eats the EXACT same thing every morning, without variation (unless it's an addition): lala (Trader Joe's nutri-grain bar), organic yogurt cup, two gummy bear vitamins. Sometimes fruit and orange juice is added. But you're in a world of hurt if he doesn't get his standard breakfast fare. Speaking of, you're in a world of hurt if anything changes at all that he wasn't involved in - we got our front porch re-done back in May or June, and he HATED it. Because it was new. We just added a curtain hook to his room. And he tried to rip it down and wailed for 5 minutes while I restrained him and talked him down...Kid doesn't like snuck-up-on-him change. 

Jett plays by himself. I can stand in the kitchen doing dishes or cleaning or whatnot for 45 minutes and Jett will occupy himself downstairs in the basement, sometimes alternating between floors, with an infrequent holler for me or Daddy to assist in fixing something. Jett is really articulate when speaking (at least compared to his younger peers), but he still uses the wrong tense of verbs ("I sawed a squirrel outside"), and I'm going to miss it when it's gone! (I do correct him and Daddy both when they use "good" instead of "well" - it's never too early - and Jett just last night told me that he didn't feel well [and not that he didn't feel good] and I was overwhelmed with pride [and concern of course for his discomfort]). Cash the dog is less wary of Jett as Jett shows him that he can be trusted (little by little) and will actually allow Jett to pet him, and he's really quite gentle with him. 

As of yesterday, Jett wants to be a fireman for Halloween. Jett's favorite books are probably the Elephant & Piggie series because they're silly. He doesn't have a favorite TV show because he plays Russian Roulette daily with the kids Netflix app, watching everything from Barney to 1980s Spiderman to Yo Gabba Gabba. He loves loves loves dried mangos, juicing veggies with Mommy, and ice cream. 

Computer is about to die so I'll keep the rest simple: Jett is the awesomest and we love him dearly. I wish I could always have a 3-year-old. 

THIS, I am going to miss

I am going to look back years from now and wish I'd kept this up more frequently, to document all of Jett's activities and patterns and funny things he says at each age. I'm going to do myself a solid and try to document some of this now.

Jett still loves to eat, but is easily distracted from dinner because playing is FAR too attractive an activity over eating. He still loves his Kitty for bedtime but thankfully, gave up his pacifier around two months ago. He went to bed two nights in a row randomly forgetting to ask for it, so I figured he could probably live without it. We "lost" it on the third night, and after spending 10 minutes thoroughly scouring his room and the bathroom, he seemed satisfied to know it was just plain lost and we moved on. He sees pacifiers every day at Nanny Jourdan's house, and is never tempted. We were prepared for the end of the world when the pacifier separation day came, but it turned out to be one of the easier things we've dealt with.

Potty training has also been somewhat easy thus far. Without much effort (baiting him with Skittles), Jett is able to use the potty chair regularly and accurately, but only if his pants aren't on. As long as he's naked from the waist down and his potty chair is in plain sight, he'll stop what he's doing to run over and take a #1 or #2. And I can just sit on the couch and read my book and he'll come let me know what he's done because he expects his reward: 1 "potty Skittle" for #1, 2 "potty Skittles" for #2. Our neighbors recommended this approach as it worked for her kids 15 years ago, and it's worked quite well for us, if only because Jett never gets refined sugar and even 1 Skittle is a precious, coveted treat. The trick is now to work on Jett's recognition of the "urge" when wearing pants...

Jett is talking nonstop, though it's not all understood. He was screaming Daddy dancing tonight but it turns out he wanted to show Daddy his dolphin. When he first wakes up in the morning, he'll announce it happily: "I wake up!" Santa says "ho, ho, ho." Shoes and juice are very easily misinterpreted. If he wants a light turned off, or the TV turned off, or whatever else he's dictating that day, it's "ock." Monsters are friendly, but pronounced "montser." There are more times than not where, in the absence of context, I'm at a total loss and have to admit to Jett that I can't fulfill his request because I just don't understand (when Kenny's around, he translates as he's much better with the translation). When he talks about things in terms of size, everything is "baby" or "big." He was sick with a cold recently and we still have to nebulize him when he starts to get sick. I think he was starting to tire of the nebulize routine, and we tried to convince him that he was still a little sick, and that he need to continue nebulizing for a while. He wasn't convinced until we spoke his language and mentioned an equivalent: "baby" sick. So now, when he has a little cough or a runny nose, he'll tell us he's "baby sick." So flipping adorable. Oh, and lately, he's been protesting the end of an activity with "Two mo minutes, two more minutes." Makes you realize how frequently we must use this phrase with him. He's also fond of bargaining with us for "one mo time" to extend playtime...

He also started responding with "Don't tell me!" when he takes offense to being reprimanded. He also uses "bad" as an insult. When he's upset and we're trying to distract him from his tantrum, he'll very spitefully tell us that whatever we're doing is 'bad." Santa is "bad" or his puzzle is "bad" or the snack is "bad" and if we try to protest and indicate that things are good or simply, not bad, he vehemently admonishes the item as bad and tries to start a fight. Cute, right? The other night he was running around in mad circles at the end of the night, just going nuts, screaming "I crazy, mommy. I crazy!" And I was inclined to agree. But whenever I tell him he's crazy, he giggles and says no, "Mommy crazy" and the back and forth escalates until Jett gets mad and screams adamantly that Mommy is the crazy one and Jett most certainly is NOT crazy.

We recently had the basement remodeled - November - which was great timing as we actually had room for all of Jett's Christmas bounty. Jett is absolutely smitten with the basement. When he wakes up, he wants to "go downstairs, basement." He doesn't want to come up to eat lunch or dinner, or miss his toys spending the night at Nanny Jourdan's several times a week. He LOVES the basement. It's a pretty sweet setup devoted mostly to Jett with a media room space for Kenny (and Jett). I just got a treadmill so I suppose I've got a nook carved out down there too, so I can't complain. Really, as long as Jett is happy (and his toy mess is out-of-sight and out-of-my-mind), Mommy is happy.

So Christmas. I held back toys we'd bought because package after package continually arrived on the doorstep addressed to this kid. Thank you all for your generosity, but you're making it hard for me to combat this spoiled only child syndrome thing :) He loves all of his toys, but he's like a freaking humming bird playing with everything in a 30-minute period. He'll start with a puzzle. Or two. Then trains. Then Legos. Then his house. Then trains. Then the ball pit. Then the pirate game. Then Legos, then the Kitty game, then back to trains. Sadly, he takes after me in the easily-frustrated arena, and can't seem to play anything for longer than 60 seconds before he is whining or crying or throwing it or admonishing it as "bad." And then it's "heyyyypp," "heyyyypp" (help, help) and we try and reason with him and display an alternate way to do something and tell him to take deep breaths and that Legos are meant to come apart and that's fun, and that sure, we'll play trains but no crying, etc.

Jett sings now and his favorite songs are plenty. Before bed, we sing a repertoire: Twinkle, Twinkle always starts us off, followed by Baa Baa Black Sheep. Then "EIEIO"and Itsy Bitsy Spider and two alternates mixed in every once in a while. He thinks it's hysterical when Kitty sings in meows, and damn near loses his mind in giggles when Kitty and Mommy duet together (Kitty tries to cut in on Mommy's verses and sings plenty off key and is really just quite a ham). He thinks fake burps (after Kitty drinks too much milk) are HILARIOUS. He cracks up when Kenny pretends to be a monster lurking around the bottom of the bed who eventually climbs up onto the covers to discover Jett wrapped up with Mommy in hiding.

Jett has moved on from the standard Nick Jr fare. Well, it's just been honed. He loves Dora and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, and will passively watch most other cartoons, with the first 10 minutes of a Pixar movie included. Ten minutes to sit next to Kenny on a couch (well, maybe not sitting, but remaining on the couch in some fashion) is huge. Jett doesn't seem to be as mesmerized by the iPad and doesn't HAVE to have my phone anymore to play games in the car or at dinner, but he does typically require some cartoon on in the car, which he's gotten accustomed to with Joudan's pimped-out nanny chauffeur service with the Escalade movie service. And we bring the iPad with Mickey or Dora for longish trips in the car as well, but out of the car, it no longer seems to hold his attention all that frequently. And when it does, he simply wants to watch the same thing that's on the TV. "Jett, Dora's on the big TV, let's put the iPad away." No. Watch Dora on iPad. And then Dora's on both screens for two minutes until Jett has lost interest in both and I go around shutting off unattended electronics.

Jett counts to 10, and then counts to 12 sometimes, and then 14 and 16 are repeated several times and a 20 may be randomly thrown in. He likes to listen to stories, which is why our bedtime routine is a rather daunting 30-minute process (teeth brushing, changing, book selection, book reading [3 books], lights out and singing). He sings the ABC song really well - it's a favorite - but has yet to relate it to letters or words. He's very clever...when we took him to bed the other night, dragging him out of the basement to go to bed, he indicated that he had to potty, when prompted. This never happens. The potty chair had been left in the basement, so I offered up the big toilet. "No, baby chair." Kenny and I looked at each other to figure out if it was worth going down to the basement to get the chair when Jett slinked down onto his stomach and was poised to slide down the stairs as he was offering to go get the chair. Clever bunny. Tonight, he offered to keep cleaning up as he'd just been rewarded with Helper M&Ms and figured he'd try to earn some more. Smart.

I love watching this every day. We've gotten to an age where I can affirmatively respond to those commenting that "you're going to miss this stage," and yes, I will miss 2.5 year old Jett. He's still quite fussy and whiny and aggravating but he's a friggin doll and funny and happy (I happy, mommy), and I'm trying to make as many mental snapshots of this stage as possible because I will definitely miss this.

"No"

It's been a while. I think of things constantly as they happen and want to memorialize them as they happen but Jett neither provides me the time nor do I find it easy to blog from my phone. So I'll play catch-up:

I love my son. I'm particularly lovey dovey at the moment as he is a snotty, hoarse mess of a germfest right now and he's just so helpless and sleepy and adorable. I want to cry for him every time he hacks in his sleep and run in and just clutch him to my chest. Snot be damned; I want to cuddle/coddle this kid.

Most noticeably, Jett is speaking more. It's the natural progression of things, but I see three year olds and it's insane that he'll cover so much distance on the language front in such a short time. No wonder kids can learn multiple languages easily; they're accelerated sponges. He's speaking in small 2-3word sentences ("Mommy, no dancing" or "Cash eat?") and words are sounding closer to the real thing ("motorcycle," while still imperfect, at least has more then 2-syllables now).

Motorcycles are his favorite sound, next to airplanes. He'll stop whatever he's doing and cup his ear to his hand with wide eyes and exclaim "mo-co-co!" And he thinks all vehicles are a type of tractor.

He also has his first chore: feeding Cash the dog. He'll grab the plastic container from the shelf, open it, scoop out anywhere from 3-300 pieces of kibble, semi-successfully pour it into the target bowl, put the scoop back in the tub, close the lid and put the container back on the shelf. Awesome. I think it helps to repair some of the relationship damage Jett has done in hitting and screaming at Cash (mostly territorial disputes over the rightful ownership of Mommy's lap).

Jett is now 2. We celebrated selfishly, gathering friends at a local winery. Jett and his crew had fun playing outside, snacking and sampling Jett's birthday loot, and the mommies and daddies enjoyed themselves as well. We were happy to make it, mostly unscathed, to two years in. I've been warned about terrible twos, but they don't scare me. I've pretty much danced with the devil already at this point; there's not much left to catch us off guard now.

Jett has been pretending. And singing. These are two new skills. He started singing maybe a month to a month and a half ago. I noticed he would mumble a bit when I sang his familiar bedtime tune, and that sort of graduated to discernible singing, in the car ("no Daddy, Jett sing"), playing an app, at bedtime. It's flipping adorable. He makes up the words mostly at this stage but knows some key words (likes Baa, Baa black sheep and sings the "yes sir, yes sir" 3 bags full part) and knows the melody. Which is great and cute but kind of a pain now that we have to have a 10-song rotation on hand because he may or may not be feeling a certain song that night and will rather quickly reject 7 in a row. (me: what about Twinkle, twinkle? Jett: Nnno! Me: what about the itsy, bitsy spider? Jett: Nnno! And so on). The pretending thing has been extremely cute. The first night he did it, also maybe a month ago, I was on all fours pacing around our bed while Kenny and Jett lay out of reach cuddled in the center by the headboard. I was pretending to be a hungry tiger/bear/monster/lion and would go from one side to the next, swiping my claws upward to graze an exposed foot or calf. Jett would squeal in delight and Kenny would reaffirm protection efforts. When I became a gentle beast and joined them on the bed, Jett made a calculated shimmy off the side of the bed to the floor and proceeded to get on all fours, growling, clawing and pacing the bed. I might have sobbed out of overwhelming cuteness if I hadn't been tasked with feigning fright and huddling with Kenny from our  2-year-old beast aggressor. He growls a lot as of late, and tries to startle me with loud roars. I may get sick of this later, but for now, it's ridiculously adorable.

Jett is a tyrant, and takes his own showers. He has been, for what seems like a while now, telling us our business. We used to have post-bathing dance sessions in his room, but he's taken to screaming at Kenny and I to let him dance alone because apparently our dance moves aren't good enough. He also tells us, repeatedly, to refrain from singing along with him, going over the top with character voices when reading bedtime books, or speaking along with the words to the same kids show episode we've seen 15 quadrillion times. He also likes to tell us when to sit on the couch by pointing. I have visions of that Nanny 911 show and my unruly 3-year-old who runs the household and let's mommy and daddy see the sun whenever it pleases him... Jett also likes to take showers now. Well, he doesn't like to shower, or bathe in general, but seems to prefer shower over bath most of the time. I just sit on the toilet seat next to him and he stands in the shower stream and relaxes like daddy, until he remembers he's got toys and growls at his disposal.

We're looking to start pacifier weaning maybe in the next few weeks, or maybe after his last 2-year molar has come in, the first of which finally poked through last week. Haven't had his 2-year checkup at the dr yet so no official stats, but he seems a reasonable height for kids his age (is still taller, if only barely) than the 3 18-month-olds he regularly hangs with) and is probably on the low side of the weight range because that's inevitably where he'll be from birth til 24. He's been 24 lbs for a while now, and in size 24 month or 2T as he gets a little longer in legs and torso. His hair is dirty blonde and shaggy, shaggy shaggy. Think I might let it grow out a bit to see if there's any wave to it (young surfer kid 'do) or if it'll be insanely straight like his old man's...if the latter, it'll get cut, when and if I can manage rationalizing a haircut with Jett or managing a sneak attack in the tub that doesn't result in blood and nips to the neck...He does seem to understand the necessity for nail trims, so maybe I can talk him into sitting still for this...

Otherwise, Jett's still running around a billion miles a minute. Have been meaning to take him to a tumbling kid gym place for the last three weeks but he's been sick for at least two of them. I hope it's awesome and gets some energy out of him; he just has more than he or we know what to do with. But that's how Kenny was as a tyke. And Jacque (his mum) figured it out so we can too. I think. I hope. He'll just be in 11 different school sports...

The poor sickly beast has awakened and I'm off to attend to my sweet child as only a mommy can. I hope to write again sooner than later-I want to document this next crazy year and all the language and logic skills he'll be attaining... And attitude...and entitlement...

All it took was time and drugs

I didn't realize it'd been January since my last post. Time gets away from you when life is happening around us! I've picked a bad time for the lengthy update needed as it's bedtime, but I've been intending to write an update for the last two weeks straight with nothing to show for it. I read back through this blog which spans more than two years ago now. And it's sad. Makes me feel kind of weird, as it took me back to those moments with a newborn Jett that I really did not enjoy. I realize it doesn't matter if we were unprepared parents or if it was Jett that was just a difficult baby; the perception was that that period of time sucked. And I am finally okay with that. So life sucked for a while and it wasn't anyone's fault and we're removed from it now and I feel more wise-end for the experience. We're still pretty determined that we never, ever want to do that again, but that's fine too. We've definitely made a breakthrough. Jett's amazing. It's like 18-months came and we got a little kid all of a sudden. I also got situated with some anti-anxiety medication, which has worked out better than I ever anticipated. In fact, my ability to deal with stressors better now than I have in the last year makes me sort of sad/ mad that I didn't do this sooner. I feel like I could have saved myself from some unessecary struggles. But back to Jett. He's a walking, talking, helpful, contemplative, happy, rambunctious little toddler. He picks up his toys (mostly when prompted), he feeds himself (messily), drinks from a regular cup in small doses, plays by himself (half of the time), builds and digs in the sandbox Kenny just built him, dances, sings (a very little bit), identifies things with words ("motorcycle" is "co-coo", "vacuum" is "bac"), Pre-emptively says "please" (only b/c he's learned very quickly to manipulate us...), understands everything we tell him but is selective in acknowledging requests..., vacuums like a madman(we bought him his own lightweight stick vac b/c he loved ours so much), still eats most everything (though is selective if offered better alternative menu items...ketchup covered hotdog buns trump anything), and sleeps on a somewhat routine schedule. His naps have been longer for the last month, up to 4 hours, but that's typical only if he's sick. Which hasn't been that frequently, though he does seem to be dealing with spring allergies, on the heels of a big teething push. I'm hoping we're in a bit of a down period on the teething thing; teething is honestly the worst thing ever. I was starting to get concerned that I might be harming Jett's liver by having him on regular daily doses of ibuprofen for a month at a time. But when this kid ails, he AILS. I can't wait for him to be older so I can give him hardcore meds for colds and such, not that I want to drug my child (I was very anti-drugs going into all of this, hence the natural labor...), but Jett seems to need something stronger than what is ever currently available. Even Benadryl, a totally legit, real drug, hasn't worked with him. Gotta make an appt for the doc this week to get these allergies assessed. Poor kiddo had a dry cough ALL day long. Couldn't give him enough cold liquid and fruit and Popsicles to ease it. And Boogie Wipes are a new staple in the house. And we've moved up to the giant bottle of children's ibuprofen... I need to get to bed, but wanted to get something out there to pick up where I left off earlier this year. Jett's wonderful. He's got a personality and is pretty funny with us. He's a doll too, but not sure what to do with his hair. He throws tantrums and intentionally disobeys us on occasion and doesn't take scolding seriously most days but this is nothing. I'm having a blast with this age. He's just old enough to understand almost everything and communicates about ninety percent effectively (only some words/gestures we can't figure out), but still little enough to enjoy him as a "baby." This kid is tops. Thank god.

It's not you, it's me

Jett is a fussy kid who is hard to keep entertained and likes to whine and act clingy around mommy. That's established. But that's Jett, being a baby. He's doing what he's supposed to be doing at this age. And it's ME who has the problem.

I've no patience for this. But I'm mom, and parents are supposed to just hang in there and deal with his crying and sleeplessness and everything else that drives me crazy like all other parents before us. One of my issues is a weird sense of entitlement. I feel like we ought to get a break; we DESERVE a break, and when one doesn't come, I just feel pissed off that this just keeps coming and coming and coming. And the rare breather periods we do get in between ear infections and teething and schedule change consequences, I get pissed off when we have to deal with something crappy we've already dealt with a thousand times. Like, oh, fantastic, Jett's not sleeping through the night again after sleeping through the night for two weeks!! Pisses me off. I can't help but fill up with hope that we've moved forward when I see such consistent patterns, and then I'm devastated and frustrated when Jett exercises his right to continue behaving or sleeping like a kid under 2. Irritating, but only because I don't process this well.

Ideally, moms and dads would be the most flexible of people. I almost thought I was, but then I had a kid and dispelled that thought... Outwardly, I think I'm flexible. Internally, my brain and the anxiety that rules it is a mess of second-guessing and polar opposites. I think some mothers out there (myself included) would benefit from the rational part of their brain being shut off. It would be a lot easier to pick up and soothe a wailing child who's been belaboring the bedtime process for two hours if the rational part of my brain were temporarily disabled. The rational part wants to drop that difficult kid off at the fire station and see if they can get him to sleep. Instead, I sit rocking him in his chair trying to calm him for 20 minutes, clutching him to my chest and stroking his cheek, while my blood boils and I'm about to have an aneurism I'm so frustrated. I don't think I ever read about blinding rage in the baby books...

And again, it's me. It's me trying to process these emotions related to dealing with a child. Tonight, Jett cried in the car for the duration of our 45 minute drive home. And I had a decent day and was fairly unaffected, initially. And on the few times at the end of the trip where I was a half second away from all-out screaming at him or crying myself, I tried to remind myself that it's just a baby, crying, and nothing more. I can ignore that, just like I can ignore a car alarm (though 45 minutes of a car alarm would probably start to piss me off...). But a car alarm does not both beckon and repel me, like my child's cry does. Stupid evolutionary hard-wiring...

I will most likely look back at this and shake my head out how naive I was in writing this sentence but....I really think life will be easier when: A. Jett no longer cries (as a baby) since it's this small action that incites such emotional turmoil within, and B. Jett is a reliable sleeper (I'm crossing my fingers that we'll have a sleeper by year 2...) since bedtime is such a HUGE source of anxiety and never consistent. That's my current wish list. I'm sure when I get those check boxes checked, they'll be replaced with Jett's abusive and constant use of "no," and hitting or something. Or whatever. It'll be something. But it'll be different. And I just need a change.

Back to Jett though - it is amazing all the stuff he can do. He's sharing somewhat consistently, he's usually very gentle with Cash and other pets, he's really loving to his kitty and other stuffed animals, he's learning to open and close doors (not that this is a skill we're prepared yet to deal with...), he's speaking (maybe 10 words), pays attention to TV (we're categorizing this as a good thing for now), purses his lips and gives proper kisses and hugs when prompted, is learning to use a fork (insists on fork usage), learning to drink from a regular cup, and is becoming an excellent dancer :) There's probably a thousand other things that I'm neglecting to list but he's seriously incredible. Having a year-and-a-half old is my favorite age thus far - he's still young enough to be babied and has the baby mannerisms and is still such a little guy, but he's old enough to really understand us and follow directions and ask for help when he can't figure something out on his own.

I really enjoy spending time with him because he's literally just fun to be around. He likes to laugh and loves it when I'm being silly and hiding from him or chasing him or building blocks with him. I can actually do things with him and he's a willing participant! We went to Petsmart this weekend and we could have easily stayed for an hour, just surveying and discovering all of the animals in the building. And he helped me clean, and LOVED it. And loved the car wash. We have so much fun together, when he's good on sleep, well-fed, not teething or suffering from any other ailment, and otherwise contented.

Let's hope I get more flexible in my old age (30 is fast approaching...) so I can more easily overlook the bad and relish the good, and deal with the next 18 months!