With a rebel yell...

Apparently, Jackson likes water.

Jackson wants....

...milk!!

Pathetic looking face, isn't it. As if it was the end of the world. In fact, we call this the "end of the world" cry. I saw this look 6-8 times a day his first 3 months and 4-6 times a day since then. It's the face Jackson makes when Ian stops feeding him for a moment to help him burp before inhaling the rest of his formula (so he doesn't lose it on the front of his onesie) and the face I see when switching him from one "milk container" to the other.

There was one nice thing about this cry. We knew exactly what it meant and we knew what we had to do to appease it. In general, "cry interpretation" has been fairly straightforward. Jackson usually only cries to have three basic needs met - when he's hungry, when he's sleepy, and when he's tired with his current environment. And the signs are usually fairly clear which of the three events must be occurring.

But something interesting happened last week. My family was visiting. My dad had Jackson on his lap and they were watching my brother and sister-in-law's dogs run around. My dad sat Jackson back on the couch and he started crying. We couldn't figure out what happened until my dad lifted him up...in sight of the dogs again. We experimented a bit, and sure enough, every time the dogs were out of sight, Jackson cried. When they were in view he was happy again. It was a sobering moment. The little boyboy is beginning to express more than just his needs. He's actually expressing his wants. And that's not the end of it. After 2 months of pretty easy bedtimes, he's taken to crying at the top of his lungs when we put him down in his crib.

Wants to look at the dogs. Doesn't want to go to bed. Wants to be held. Doesn't want to sit in his carseat. Suddenly parenting is getting difficult. Now we have to discern what it is that he wants and decide if he really needs it. I'm realizing what a fine line this is. After all, I want him to feel significant in our eyes, but not as if he's the center of the universe. At the same time I know I am wiser than he is at this point in time and I need to help him learn to make good choices. But I also need to learn to choose my battles so that I don't crush him when it would be no big deal to acquiesce to his wants. Oh boy. Just when you think you're getting the hang of parenting they go and mature a bit more on you, changing the whole dynamic.

Clarice

Bathtime for Jackson

A vignette captured by Grandpa Law, with special appearances by Grandma Law and Uncle Randy

Empty Nest

Last weekend I went to a party where the infant set swarmed. At one point, there were 3 nursing babies on the sofa. I would have been there with them too, if Jackson weren't at home being cared for by his Uncle Bob and Auntie Melanie. And the day before, I saw 3 friends who are all due in the next 3 weeks. The week before, a couple I've mentored for years had a baby and two weeks prior Ian's best friend and his wife (the friend's wife, not Ian's wife) also had a baby. Babies all around. Pregnancies abound. All this activity has made me feel rather nostalgic. I'm suffering from a variation of empty nest syndrome.

It's kind of funny. When I was pregnant, most of the time I couldn't wait for Jackson to come out. Part of it was exasperation at the discomfort of the pregnant condition. In my third trimester, one of the women I work with would regularly ask me how I was feeling. I'd usually complain about the weight gain, the annoyance of Jackson's hiccups 5-6 times a day (and late at night), and the discomfort of his favorite position, with his foot shoved up against my last rib. And she would always beam and say, "Don't you love it? Isn't it all so dear?" Well, no, I thought. It was uncomfortable. And I wanted to know what he would be like. I was eagerly anticipating the opportunity to find out what he would be like.

But now my pregnancy is over. So I've been reminiscing with these new and expectant moms about the last and first few weeks of pregnancy. And I've realized that there are times when I miss aspects of being pregnant. Now that it's over, I realized that it was dear to enfold his entire being within mine, right next to my heart (literally). I remember watching him when he was first born and realizing that the cute little head tilt he would do when crying was the same head tilt that applied enough pressure to my bladder to make me go running. The little kick that he made against my bottom right rib is the same kick that he now uses to rock himself in his carseat. Now, as he was in utero, he's a mostly mellow kid, who only gets really fussy when he's hungry or sleepy. I'm realizing that he was giving me hints about his personality even before exiting that world for this one. And I marvel that there are people who are confident that life begins at birth rather than in utero. I marvel that he's the same person he was before he was born. I do miss the breathless anticipation of waiting to see how those in utero hints about personality will bear forth. But I am so thankful that I have the rest of my life to watch how what I see now, ex utero, blooms as he grows to manhood.

Clarice

Jackson Pollack

Today Jackson explored painting by using his body. He was moving his arms up and down.

That's the note that was on today's pink sheet, our daily report of Jackson's activities. And this is the picture we were given.


I went to pick up Jackson for the first time on Tuesday. His teacher sat down with me to report on his day. "We finger painted today," she said. I had to stifle a laugh. I mean...really! He's not even 6 months old. What's he going to paint? She continued on. "Here are some pictures." Then I laughed out loud. This time because it was so darn cute. But now that I'm looking at his works, perhaps I laughed too soon. His style is somewhat reminiscent of Jackson Pollack's. Not so angst-ridden, but look at how he chooses to blend his colors. I think we have a budding artiste here.


Clarice

Washing dishes...

...before Jackson


...and after Jackson.


'Nuff said.

Immunity

Jackson got sick last week after his 3rd day at day-care, we think. He got a mild fever which kept him up Monday night. Then he was congested and couldn't breathe Tuesday night. Then he just didn't want to sleep Wednesday night. He finally slept through the night like usual Thursday night. Not so bad for a first illness...

When we interviewed for the day-care, we were warned that Jackson would get sick in the first two weeks, but that by the time he left day-care in a few years, he would be so much stronger. The children experiment with new toys, then share them and diseases are transmitted. But that's okay, because it makes their immune systems stronger than children who are not in group settings.

So they say.

So why is it that I just got Jackson's illness? I'm 35 years old! I've been working on my immune system in group settings a whole lot longer than Jackson's five months and I'm not stronger!

It's all a big lie.

I think I'm going to be getting sick a whole lot now and I'm very disappointed in my immune system. Come to think of it, though, I never went to day-care myself, unless you count the nursery at church. Maybe he will be stronger.

-Ian