Angels and Devils

Before you even start reading, I’m giving fair warning that this is another gushy episode of the antics of the Jakester. I promise to entertain you with something different soon but I just have to record this one...I just have too, alright?


Lately, Jake is all about emoting, in both affectionate and downright 'precocious boy' ways.


My hubby bought a songbook a couple days ago of children’s songs to try out on our piano. Now, I took piano lessons growing up but I have no clue how to play any longer. Even the recital pieces I had to memorize have vacated my mind leaving me with absolutely no ability. Shawn and I met in high school choir, so his thought was that one of us could at least plunk out the tunes for Jake. Sure enough, he was able to sound out “Farmer in the Dell” fairly easily. As these things go in a busy family, the piano sits open with the music sitting there forgotten for the moment.


With the piano open, Jake has been playing ‘music’ for us the last two nights. I need to record the songs he sings. They will remind me of why I am a mom when he’s 17 and thinks I’m completely out of touch.


“Mommy, I’m going to sing a pretty song for you.” Random plunking on the piano keys ensues. (Though, I’m rather impressed that it’s not the usual mind numbing pounding Jake favors.


♫ “I love my mommy and my mommy loves meeeee. I love to hug her... and I love to kiss her. I love my mommy. That’s my song…..love……yeap, that’s my song.” ♫


OMG, isn’t that just enough to melt an overworked mom’s heart? Kids can be so incredibly cute, loving, touching, you name it, sometimes.


The next song came while he was looking at the picture on the “Farmer in the Dell” sheet music.


♫ “I love the farmers…and I love the cows….and the chickens….yeah….and I love the farmers….oooo” ♫


In my mind, this second piece wasn’t quite as inspired as the first but then it could just be my bias for the subject matter, lol.


To be fair, I need to show the other side of my little angel’s personality this week as well.


He’s almost 4, so potty humor is a riot right now. As there are many successful comedians out there that specialize in this shtick, I don’t suppose this is going to change any time soon.


He’ll sit in my lap, giggling, and say, “I farted on you Mom….ahhhh ha ha ha ha ha!!!!!!!! Did you feeeeel it?” At first, I was tickled by the whole new event farting had become. I laughed. Oh, BIG mistake! As my girlfriend Sally says, “If it’s funny once, it’s funny 40 times.” She's right. This joke has gone on and on and on… he’s like the energizer bunny. I’m over it. He was so polite to say, “Excuse me” before the comedy kicked in. Now, after a few months of it being funny… “Haaaa, I farted!!!!” I’m trying to re-introduce some manners. The cuteness seriously wears off in the middle of the grocery store, when at full voice he says, “I’m gonna fart on you Mom!!!” followed by maniacal, devil child laughter.


Oh, the price I’m paying for thinking the little man was cute!

For the Super Moms (That's all of Us)

My hubby is a stellar Dad, one of the naturally good with kids men, who make life as a mom easier because of all that he does. He'll run out in the middle of a pack of kids, entertaining them for hours with street hockey or pretending to be super heroes sliming bad guys and I so love that about him. I would never say anything against dads, because they are just as important as the moms and so very necessary in the growth and well being of our children. That being said, the following joke struck my funny bone and I just had to share. For the moms, you are the bomb and I still can't believe how any of us do it all and stay sane.


THE NEXT SURVIVOR SERIES


Six married men will be dropped on an island with one car and 3 kids each for six weeks.

Each kid will play two sports and either take music or dance classes.


There is no fast food.


Each man must take care of his 3 kids; keep his assigned house clean, correct all homework, complete science projects, cook, do laundry, and pay a list of "pretend" bills with not enough money.


In addition, each man will have to budget in money for groceries each week.


Each man must remember the birthdays of all their friends and relatives and send cards out on time.


Each man must also take each child to a doctor's appointment, a dentist appointment and to a haircut appointment. He must make one unscheduled and inconvenient visit per child to the Urgent Care (weekend, evening, on a holiday or right when they're about to leave for vacation).

He must also make cookies or cupcakes for a social function.


Each man will be responsible for decorating his own assigned house, planting flowers outside and keeping it presentable at all times.


The men will only have access to television when the kids are asleep and all chores are done. Each father will be required to know all of the words to every stupid song that comes on TV and the name of each and every character on cartoons.


Each man will have to make an Indian hut model with six toothpicks, a tortilla and one marker; and get a 4 year old to eat a serving of peas.


Each man must adorn himself with jewelry, wear uncomfortable yet stylish shoes, keep their nails polished and eyebrows groomed. The men must try to get through each day without snot, spit-up or barf on their clothing.


They must attend weekly school meetings and find time at least once to spend the afternoon at the park or a similar setting.


He will need to read a book to the children each night without falling asleep, and then feed them, dress them, brush their teeth and comb their hair each morning by 7:00. They must leave the home with no food on their face or clothes.


A test will be given at the end of the six weeks, and each father will be required to know all of the following information: each child's birthday, height, weight, shoe size, clothes size and doctor's name. Also the child's weight at birth, length, time of birth, and length of labor, each child's favorite colour, middle name, favorite snack, favorite song, favorite drink, favorite toy, biggest fear and what they want to be when they grow up.


They must clean up after their sick children at 2:00 a.m. and then spend the remainder of the day tending to that child and waiting on them hand and foot until they are better.


They must have a loving, age appropriate reply to, "You're not the boss of me".


The kids vote them off the island based on performance. The last man wins only if...he still has enough energy to be intimate with his spouse at a moment's notice.

Happening in the Land of Jakester

During the last few weeks I’ve collected a few memories and quirks of the Jakester that need to be recorded for posterity. My mind turns to sludge with the amount of detail that life requires, so the little fun remembrances seem to just poof like so much dust if I don’t write them down.


When we were nudist camping last month, Jake fell in love with the place all over again. He has been there twice before, however, in the land of three-year olds a year is a really long time. The evolution of his reaction to all things naked has been interesting. He was a naked baby, crawling around our friends RV one very rainy weekend, a couple years ago. He didn't seem to notice any difference at that age.


When he was a naked two-year old, he peed on every bush in sight. “Mommy, we get to pee on bushes when we’re camping right?” Ah, every male child’s dream. The first time we went to our community pool after that trip, he shucked off his swim trunks without a thought. “No, Jake, you need to keep your clothes on when we’re at home.” Getting that point across took several talks. You never know what you’re in for when you decide to change the routine.


Now, this year, he was old enough to understand that the nudist camp is a special place. He had so much fun, he coined a new phrase. “Mom and Dad, we have so much fun being naker. I love Naker World!” After our trip, we returned to the real world and Jake has handled the transition back to clothes without any hiccups.


His jaw is healing well, he was given the okay to eat solid foods again and they have finally taken off the ‘grill.’ Everything he eats is surveyed and if it happens to be something crunchy, he looks up at me proudly and says, “I can crunch now Momma!” It’s amazing how we can appreciate something so mundane after we’ve lost the ability for a while.



His teeth are now crooked, his bite is off, we have to see the oral surgeon for re-checks, an orthopedic dentist to discuss how the wires pushed around all his teeth and finally his regular dentist to wrap up the whole picture; but all-in-all, we are blessed to have a healthy boy with such a renewed gusto for food. He had lost a couple pounds during the initial accident and liquid diet phase, but now I’m sure he’s put on that weight….the kid is heavy! Soon, I will have to stop offering to carry him to bed. Boo hoo hoo, my little man is growing up….again. Funny, how we welcome every milestone and grieve the loss of every outgoing stage of babyness at the same time.


And the 'why' stage is still ramping up to full throttle, I try my hardest to give full and concise, understandable answers but several nights a week I hit the wall. “I’m done Jake, no more ‘why’ questions.” “Why, Mommy?” Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!


Jake has a new daycare provider. Ms. Betty is the bomb; she has been taking care of children for decades and is completely hardwired for kids. As soon as we arrive she starts with a letter of the day. “What is our letter? P is for purple and potatoes and popping bubbles! Let’s sing the P song.” Off she goes, I no longer exist. I’m so thankful. I was at my wits end trying to find one more family member who was willing to take care of my boy each day. I have the most awesome family and they really came through for us. I just kept saying, this too shall pass….and it has finally. Ms Betty will take care of the boy until he starts Montessori school in July.


Three year olds are a world unto themselves. Jake and I walked in to Ms. Betty’s the other day and another three year old came running. “Hello Jayden, how are you today?”


Jayden is a very active three year old, quite exuberant and still learning good pronunciation. “What’s my name?” He says, with a serious look on his face.


“Jayden,” I respond, always wanting to be the helpful parent figure.


“What?” He says, as if I just called for him, completely forgetting that a moment ago he asked what his name was. At this point I’m thinking, “Hm, not the brightest apple in the bunch.”


Then, once again we do our little dance. “What’s my name?”


“Jayden.”


“What?”

Now, I'm doubting my own intelligence for playing along with this event. You just never know where those little growing minds are going to lead you.


Parenting takes a whole heaping truckload of patience. You just have to laugh and find the amusement in all the silliness or you’ll just end up pulling out your own hair.


Jake and I went shopping the other day. I needed a dress for a wedding we were soon to attend. Jake sees every trip to any store as a possible toy buying excursion. Sometimes I give in, most times not. On this day, he was being a pistol so there was a very slim chance that a toy purchase would be in the offing; however bribery can be a very useful tool when you’ve just got to get a toddler through a store. So, I gave in and we found a small toy. I told him we’d buy it if he made it through the store without a hitch.


After several questions along the lines of, "Can I open my toy Mom?" He finally seemed content to just hold the plastic wrapped prize...or so I thought. I tried on some shoes and finally returned my attention to my child, sitting in the cart and doing his damnedest to slowly peel the backing from the plastic encasing his prize. "What are you doing Jake? Didn't I say you had to wait until we bought it?"


"Well, yes Mommy, but I was talking to myself real quiet and I said 'I am just going to open it a VERY leetle bit.' Yeap, that's what I said."


How can you argue with reasoning like that?

Blonde Jokes

I typically eschew pages that are simply cut and paste joke centers. We all have a bevvy of email folks that send this type of 'filler' to our mailboxes, why spread the plague? However, I'm posting a joke I received today from my father.

My dad has a connection in mind that links me with blonde jokes. Yes, I am still mostly blonde (as are all my siblings, so why I'm singled out is a mystery). But at this point, several years hence from the inception of this now time honored tradition, I fail to remember why.

He's always given me credit for having a fairly intelligent mind, so I take the blonde jokes leveled in my direction with the sense of humor with which they were intended. At least, it is my hope that this isn't some thinly veiled way of telling me to get my tuckus back to college, lol.

These days, every time I see a blonde joke, I think of my dad.

Maybe the Best Blonde Joke Ever! Two blonde girls were working for the city public works department. One would dig a hole and the other would follow behind her and fill the hole in. They worked up one side of the street, then down the other, then moved on to the next street, working furiously all day without rest, one girl digging a hole, the other girl filling it in again. An onlooker was amazed at their hard work, but couldn't understand what they were doing. So he asked the hole-digger, "I'm impressed by the effort you two are putting in to your work, but I don't get it -- why do you dig a hole, only to have your partner follow behind and fill it up again?" The hole-digger wiped her brow and sighed, "Well, I suppose it probably looks odd because we're normally a three-person team. But today the girl who plants the trees called in sick."

The Big "G" Graduates

My uncle will receive his PhD this week. Here's to wishing the Uncle Gary a happy graduation and hearty congratulations. I was just sure he'd be in college until I retired. His first degree and career was as a chemist. After retiring he started anew. So, now on to more worthy endeavors. He is certainly the brains of this little family unit. I could write a pithy article about the man, the myth, but it's late and I'm bushed.

I've been barely treading water for the last few weeks workwise and otherwise, keeping the boy covered with family caregivers and tied up with rubberbands, so now it's off to Davis for a few days to enjoy, relax and celebrate. Good news today, Jakers got the okay to remove the rubber bands. Hubby said they were off before the doctor finished the sentence, lol.

I hope you all enjoy the rest of the week. I'll check back in with you all very soon.

Insanity and the Brainless

Yesterday I was stacked with work. Not fun work but the work that I save for the very last, the work that I dread doing. As I sat before my computer, a full plate of minutiae to tackle, I found my mind wandering to the hundred and two other insanely important things I needed to accomplish which had to wait because of the startlingly important, aforementioned minutiae.


After four weeks of begging and pleading with every family member to watch my wired son, I was faced with yet another week of finding daycare for my boy. My bank account hadn’t been reconciled by the weekend when I logged on to the website to pay my mortgage like a good little soldier. So, Monday morning my thoughts turned to the dread of, “Exactly how much money do I have left?” I have several family tax returns still to finish, my dearest friend Frenchie’s birthday was imminently close (That’s today!!!), and I couldn’t keep my mind focused on that crap on my desk!


Every time I get stuck on one more of those “Does section 103 C apply in this situation and if so and there is a significant departure from GAAP have you addressed this with the client, made the appropriate notations, written the disclosures and gotten a note from your mother?” I found myself....drum roll please….back online looking at my damned 360 page! Why can’t I keep my mind focused on this stuff? Could it be that I’m just not meant for this?


Many of my clients say I have a gift for it. I can easily get to the heart of their problem, make light of it, converse with them in a way that makes accounting understandable and yet sometimes it drives me completely batty. There are a few accountants I know that fall into the ‘bean counter’ variety. They love those damned checklists and thrive on driving the rest of us bananas with SSARS regulations. I’m just not cut out for it. I find my brain turning to mush. I doubt my own intelligence at times like these. Why can’t I just stay focused? I know it takes diligence not to fade off when the going gets tough but at times I can’t even force myself.


I won’t even throw in the, “But I’m artistic, I’m not meant for this minutiae.” That’s a big helping of self justification and I know I excel at that skill. We all have the fun things in life and the drudgery. I just need to suck it up and get it done.


Yesterday, I put up a list of topics and by far the desire is for personal stories and experiences. I’m pretty certain this load of whining is not what was in mind, but that’s what is on my plate for today. If I were a cat, I’d be making that obnoxious sound that gets a boot hefted at them in the middle of the night.


Okay, focus... focus… focus. Lather, rinse, and repeat. Ugh!

One of my friends, the illustrious and mysterious Mister E., has a 360 group which is looking for blog topics to add to a list which will serve to be the muse for those who find themselves without inspiration. Personally, I find that I write as the mood strikes me in those little in-between times that life offers. If I didn’t take those opportunities as they presented themselves, I’m sure I wouldn’t write at all. For those of us who choose a busy life, these little escapes are very necessary and tend to be the only option. I have tried setting a time in the evening, after my day was complete, to sit and write in earnest. Some of you may remember that bleak and barren time. I didn’t post a blog for a solid month. Some things cannot be planned, at least not in my current state of affairs.


However, I have on occasion; found myself with a deluge of ideas to write about and no computer handy with which to record them. Typically, as soon as I find a computer the ideas vanish as if they were vapor.


So, in the interests of sharing, I thought I’d make a short list of topics that are currently on my mind, ideas which may or may not come to fruition. If you see a topic that just dazzles you, let me know, I may give it more thought if there’s interest. Or perhaps there are ideas you have that you would like me to write about…a writer’s challenge perhaps. I’m simply brainstorming here. It is said that you should write what you know, but it is also a good exercise to stretch your wings a little and try something new.


So, without further adieu, here are the ideas currently percolating:


The OC, the good and bad of the illustrious Orange County


Huell Howser, California’s Gold or where did he get that accent?


The Continuing Jakester Files, always in process.


Surfer Rider Foundation, beach awareness.


That QuickBooks Series (Yes, Will, I’m still pondering how to present this)


My brother’s triathlon in full color. This would take learning a new skill (multiple picture posting, which I just figured out) and finding out if my bro wants to be ‘in the news.’


My fifteen minutes of fame, or the story of how I got involved in taking 100 women to Alaska to meet men.


More on personal discovery, topic depends on the day’s musings.


More fictional stories. I’m not sure if there’s any interest here, except my own desire to learn how to form and execute a full plot, but I thought I’d include it.

Art History - I minored in art history and plan on becoming an art restorationist for my next career. This may be a topic I'm not qualified to write but I would enjoy trying my hand at research.


More recipes from Frenchie Pooh.


Frenchie Pooh blog to come….it’s her birthday tomorrow! Happy Birthday Frenchie! She may be one year older but she’s still younger than me. Ask her, she’ll tell ya!


Well, that’s all that comes to mind at the moment. I’m interested to know what you want to read and also how you approach your own creative process.


I would like to give all my friends a writing challenge. I would love to read about your thoughts on your local area, state, etc. Some of you do an amazing job at giving the rest of us a bird's eye view of your hometown, like Eddo, for example...others, I have no idea where you live, lol.


If you choose to take the challenge, happy writing!

Patterns

It has been three weeks of the fabulous liquid diet and we finally caught a break. The oral surgeon gave the go ahead for soft foods this week. The Jakester has been in heaven eating pasta, eggs, and whatever else he deems worthy of mashing between the crisscrossing rubber bands that hold his jaw together. My job title has thus changed from the Queen of the Blender to the Mistress of the Rubber bands. Everyday he is popping them off or breaking them in his wholehearted glee at the re-introduction to food.


I’ve found that with children, the only real constant is change. As soon as you catch sight of a prevailing pattern and snuggle down into a routine they grow or mature in some tiny way and the pattern is skewed. Then it’s time to adjust and learn the new pattern. Whenever I come up against a wall with him and we’re struggling I have to remember this. I’ll find myself raising my voice and wondering what's wrong? My angelic child disappeared, leaving me this wild unruly animal. Then, I’ll remember. It’s been about 4-5 months, time to change.


Lately, Jake has discovered adjectives. They all represent speed and size. At 3 ½, a boy is only interested in things being bigger and faster. I’m sure several women would venture to say that nothing really changes as they grow older, but I’m nearsighted so I’ll only judge from the little man I’m raising at the moment.


This morning,


“Did you find your shoes little man? We’ve got to go!” (There is a constant searching for shoes around our house and I am always running late.)


Silence radiates from the vicinity directly in front of the TV tuned to the Disney channel. I’m late and I have a child with TV coma to deal with now, great.


“TV’s off, go find your shoes!”


“Awww, Mawwmmmm!” Sarcastically laced whining emanates from my child. I was sure kids didn’t sound like that until their teens. I was wrong.


5 minutes pass, while I'm making breakfast, doing dishes, putting in laundry, emailing the office which client I'm visiting today. “Did you find your shoes?”


“No, momma, and I looked All Everywhere!”


I open the shoe closet, the last place I would have looked too. “Here they are.”


“Ahhhhh, I’m a silly Jake!” Where do they come up with these lines? Still, I'm smiling now.


Every car is Really Super Fast. Actually everything that moves is Really Super Fast.


“Look Mom, I built a really, super fast rocket ship!” “Look Mom, a really, super fast boat!!””Look Mom, a really, super fast……” Do you see a pattern?