8 Months

Dear Jack,

Yesterday (ok...a week ago), you turned eight months old. You have grown so much in the past 31 days, I often look at you and ask, "Who are you?"

By far, my favorite moment with you this month was yesterday itself. You hate baths- every time we stick you in the tub it is like we just placed you in flesh eating acid. Because of that, it usually takes the help of your dad so that one of us can hold you and the other can wipe you down and rinse you off so that we can get you in and out as quickly as possible. So, per usual, we got you ready and placed you in the water. As we waited for the tense shrieks, you looked at the running water, at us, and down at the water in the tub and began to laugh hysterically. Then you proceeding to try and dive into the water like a fish.

You decided a couple of weeks ago that pureed green beans are below you and jarred chicken and noodle dinner is too infantile for your sophisticated palette. Unfortunately, your gums are unable to ravage whole cows, so it a darn good thing you are in the process of becoming the proud new owner of THREE slowly developing top teeth. That is right, YOU HAVE A CANINE! Today canine teeth, tomorrow the keys to the car.

Introducing you to new foods is one of my favorite things. This month you tried Birthday Cake Ice cream...I thought "Hallelujah" was going to be your first word, because you were THAT excited about it. You could not get enough of it, and every time you got a bite you completely spazzed- with arms flaying and emphasized m's. If you were that excited about ice cream, just wait till you turn 21.

Aside from food, your crawling has gotten lighting fast, and it is getting harder to keep track of you. I set you down, and like superman- faster that a speeding bullet- you are in the kitchen in Jake's cat food. I should really just buy gates already, but like the cabinet door locks that are sitting on top of the hutch collecting dust- god only knows when it will happen. I am going to break it to you now- I think you should have a seat for this....Your mother is lazy. You also learn with time that I am completely impatient, which makes me one big contradiction. They make songs about people like me.

Speaking of songs- you are starting to develop a taste in music. There will be times you will be in mid-scream while we are in the car and all of the sudden Sarah Barella(spelling is irrelevant) "love song" will come on and you will immediately stop. Then, the song will change and if it is something you do not care to hear then you resume screaming. I used to think I was a bad mom because I do not play nursery rhyme cd's in the car and rarely ever at home. Yeah, sometimes I sing "The wheels on the bus" to you and other kiddy "treasures", but that is about it. I figure it this way- when you are 5 and all of the other boys are running around to ring-around-the rosie, you will be in the corner belting out "slow dance" by John Legend with a crowd of girls swarming you. You're Welcome.

Love,

Mom

Teething Hell

I started to write Jack's 8 month letter last week, but have not finished it yet (obviously) because frankly I am just too damn tired.

If I was with someone who had just had a near death experience and they came back telling me that they had just had the strangest dream about swimming in a pool of orajel surrounded by babies chewing on teething rings, I will know instantly that they must not be a very good person because they just came back from the fifth level of hell.

The last three nights have been excruciating. I am so tired, I physically hurt. The teething experience has never been this bad. Jack is cutting three teeth, the two top front and one canine. He does not want to eat and most horribly does not want to sleep. I called the doctor this morning to see if there was anything I could do. She asked if I had tried a cold compress, tylenol, or orajel. I will tell you like I told her, aside from bashing my head in with a sledge hammer, I have tried E V E R Y T H I N G. I have even cannonballed into the realm of old home remedies. Nothing is working. Not cold teething rings or cloths, not orajel, not Tylenol, not mortrin, not teething tablets, not whiskey, not even vanilla extract. Yes we let him cry and yes we even tried co-sleeping last night, but turns out he doesn't like it either.

My nerves are frayed. I am a zombie. I am getting my tubes tied at noon.

So, tax season finally ended last week and I will admit that as far as communication goes, I fell off the face of the planet. It is as if I have been in some self induced rehab the last week or so, laying low and doing as little functioning as possible. We had wednesday off, which, if you are a mother know that days off translates to "shit, how many errands do i have time for?" so it really wasnt a day off at all. Thursday was a half day of work and then post season lunch which included two and half glasses of wine. And, if you are a parent, two and a half glasses of wine equates to "anyone want to go streaking? bring your green hat!" Friday, I came to work for a couple hours and then decided what a horrible decision maker I was and left by 2. A good decision maker would have turned the car around in the morning and never entered at all. Saturday involved my first attempt at running in almost two years- a 5 mile loop was probably an amazing choice- again, another example proving how horrible I am at making decisions. Then, Sunday, I forced myself back into life again and finally started to make up for the cleaning I have been telling Bill I was going to do for the last 5 or so months.

I have to say, although working all of those hours was borderline hell, when it was time to leave on Tuesday, I was hard pressed to go. I kept finding reasons to stay a little longer. All of the sudden I felt anxious and almost sad- very fidgety. It is like the last day of school- you work so hard all year, especially those last couple of weeks for finals and then BAM it is done and you are left wondering what the hell you are supposed to do with yourself now.

it doesnt make sense, and it is not supposed to.

without divulging into client details, I am about two baseball bats away from losing my marbles.

side effects

Yesterday, the daycare called me at work around 5pm. Jack forgot that he did not know how to walk yet, took a step and hit his upper lip on a table. They said he was bleeding a lot and they could not tell how deep it was but they had given him a Popsicle and it seemed to aid in stopping the gushing. All I could do was ask questions and say, "Bill has the car but he will be there by 530". I could not drop everything and go and get him. I could not even leave with them after Bill stopped by work with Jack so I could see the damage. It is almost the end of tax season, and there is so much to do- I was here until 945 last night, and by the time Bill and Jack picked me up it was way past his bed time and he was asleep in his car seat.

This morning when we got to daycare, Jack smiled and enthusiastically reached out to Carlene, one of the girls that takes care of him. He did not need me, he did not want me, he didn't even care that I left. I think my heart just stopped beating.

It is 9pm and I am still at work.

I have been here since 830am.

My appearance and mind are deteriorating (i cant believe i spelled that right on the first try) with every passing minute.

Today was not the day to wear a skirt and peep toe high heels.

Yesterday, Bill and I played hooky and went to the Home Opener. I originally wasn't going to go, because of tax season and I felt guilty about leaving- BUT then I realized that eating pounds of chocolate makes me feel guilty too but that doesn't stop me from eating it- SO I went.

I am so glad I went, it was a BEAUTIFUL day. One of those days that makes you completely forget that you were just living through 4+ months of cold, miserable weather. The same kind of amnesia that helps mothers forget about all of the pain and exhaustion they just went through and helps keep the world populated. It felt so good to get out and be in the sun and relax. It brought back those feelings of skip days in high school and how fun the adrenaline makes what your doing when you know you should be doing something else. Not to mention, we had a set babysitter with daycare, so it worked out even better.

On a downside, definitely lost $120 CASH. I cried when I realized it. It does not break us, but $120 is $120 which means I have to take stuff from other places and move the budget around a little. Bill made me feel better by telling me that perhaps it was God's plan. I just hope that the money was found by someone that really needed it. Knowing that I possibly helped relieve a mother of her grocery money fears for the next two weeks makes me feel better.