Since Jackson was first born, we've been tracking his major milestones. I had been writing them in my journal. For his first 13 months, I scribbled quite regularly about the new things he was learning. First smile, first laugh (funny that my parents caught both of those firsts), first day of eating baby food, first tooth, second tooth, third tooth.... But since he started walking at 13 months, there haven't been quite as many entries. It's interesting. So many activities are finite...measurable. You can clearly determine when a child has learned to crawl or walk or say a specific word. But now his main focus appears to be language development. And that's something that can take a lifetime.
I blogged before about some of his first words. He's certainly expanded his vocabulary in the past month. And his pronunciation has improved. For example, he now calls broccoli "brocciole" instead of "bok" and orange is now "orch" instead of "oof". However, he still says "ow ow" instead of "I love you."
Well, now Jackson's starting to put words together. Most of the time, it's words to express his needs. "More more milk", "more more brocciole", "more more orch". And tonight he charmed our small group at the dinner table by saying very clearly, "more corn peesh." Notice a pattern there? Yep, our boy LOVES his food. And the balance of the time, Jackson's naming the objects he can associate with words. "Oh, look...bus....bus....bus...bye, bye, bus" or "Oh, look...ruck...cruck...truck...bye, bye truck" or "moon...ky...tars...keeyoud". But last week, he made his first declarative statement.
I had been hanging out with some dear girlfriends for a very sad event (more about the ending of an era in another post) and was looking forward to coming home to see my boys. When I came in the door, I found Ian curled up on the sofa with his eyes closed. I figured he'd be trying to take his Sunday nap since he'd been under the weather. And Jackson was sitting on the living room floor "drawing". At least he was handling paper and crayons. He gave me his happy Jackson smile when I came in. When I sat down next to him and asked him how his day went, he pointed to Ian on the sofa and said "Daddy seeping". "What?" I asked. "Seeping," he gestured again, "Daddy seeping. Sssss." Since I still wasn't sure what he said, I told him that I didn't understand. That's when Ian piped up from his semi-conscious position on the sofa, "He said Daddy's sleeping." Ooops!
I've been reliving the episode all week long. It just tickles me that my little boy can identify the action of sleep and felt it was important to tell me that Daddy was sleeping. I wish I knew why he thought it was important to tell me. And I marvel that he knew that I didn't understand what he said. And, of course, it cracks me up that Ian had to emerge from his Sunday nap to translate for me. Overall, it will be a memory that I'll cherish. So my entries in my journal have slowed a bit. I just can't keep up with all of Jackson's new words. But I look forward to more language milestones....like our first real conversation.
Clarice
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Monday, September 24, 2007
Medical Missions
My church takes a team to Ensenada, Mexico thrice yearly and the Labor Day Weekend trip is their medical team trip. 
Clarice used to go every year with the dental team, but then she met me and we had a little one. This year, I wanted to serve the poor in Ensenada and I especially wanted to serve on the dental team so that I could observe my wife in her natural habitat and understand better what she does so passionately. Man, was I not ready.
First of all, I'm not a clean freak. Or maybe I am. As a special effects technician on movies, I got used to working with dirt and eating with not-so-cleaned hands (sometimes it was hypo-allergenic dirt). I could never work food service because I can't stand the need to always have clean hands for working with food. Besides my hands dry out when I wash them too much. However, one of the requirements of any medical team is sterile instruments and sterilization was the only way this medically ignorant volunteer could be of valued assistance. And I know these poor people need clean instruments because they are about to have their teeth pulled.
It's one thing in the movies to create squirting, bloody wounds with tubes and syringes or have red corn syrup and luncheon meat blasted out of your chest for a simulated gunshot wound. It's another thing altogether to witness a room full of wincing or uncomfortable people, trying to relax in lawnchairs as foreigners scrape plaque or fill cavities. I didn't get an upset stomach, but I was a bit uneasy at first.
So, fortunately for me, by lunchtime I had relaxed. I was able to take the instruments through the disinfectant rinses, dry and package them in sterile envelopes and pressure steam (autoclave) them for ten minutes. I could appreciate the smiles on faces of people who had been relieved of their tooth ache, a pain they had dealt with for up to a year and one that has now been 
replaced with a "good, temporary pain" as the novocaine wears off. I mourned for the children whose moms approved having their children's teeth pulled because they couldn't afford proper care. I was glad that certain poor farmers' children were given floss for the first time ever. A happy smile is a healthy smile.I know one thing for sure, I'm going to double my efforts to floss my teeth properly.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Special Guest - God
Hey, here's a funny video about the Trinity made by some friends at my old church, Bel Air Presbyterian.
Friday, September 14, 2007
Expectant
Ever since Jackson was born, people have been asking us about "the next one." You know...nudge, nudge, wink, wink..."So when's the next one?" I think it took my dad all of one week after meeting his first grandchild before he asked for the next one. I don't quite remember how I responded in my sleep-deprived state of delirium. In fact, for the following year, my general thought upon being so questioned was to cover my ears and loudly sing some non-nursery rhyming song. Nothing like a little Deathcab for Cutie or Alanis Morisette to kill the thought of returning to 8-9 feedings and 10-12 poopy diapers a day. Actually, now that I think of it, it probably would have been better to sing some of those mind-numbing nursery rhymes after all.
However, now that Jackson's turning into a little person, we're starting to dream about the next one. And now we're proud to announce that we're expecting in 10-11 months!!
So...did I get you? Well don't feel bad if I tricked you into a false hope (if you're still confused, remember that pregnancy is traditionally considered to be 9 months). We've been saying that to people for the past month or so and quite a few people have been tricked into thinking that we're actually expecting (including an anonymous person I'll only identify as mom).
But I can honestly say that even though are not expecting, we truly are expectant. Not to get into the revealing details...but actually trying to promote the birth of a child is REALLY different from having it just happen to you (And by "you", I don't mean the hypothetical, non-descript "you". I actually mean Ian and myself). So now I've joined the ranks of those who long for a child. I'm a participant in the regular cycles of hope and disappointment. And I'm realizing that it's a hard place to be. But I am also confident in the goodness of God and the wisdom of His timing. For when we didn't think we were ready to welcome a baby, He brought Jackson. And now that we demand that we're ready for another, I rest assured that He has the right outcome in mind.
Clarice
However, now that Jackson's turning into a little person, we're starting to dream about the next one. And now we're proud to announce that we're expecting in 10-11 months!!
So...did I get you? Well don't feel bad if I tricked you into a false hope (if you're still confused, remember that pregnancy is traditionally considered to be 9 months). We've been saying that to people for the past month or so and quite a few people have been tricked into thinking that we're actually expecting (including an anonymous person I'll only identify as mom).
But I can honestly say that even though are not expecting, we truly are expectant. Not to get into the revealing details...but actually trying to promote the birth of a child is REALLY different from having it just happen to you (And by "you", I don't mean the hypothetical, non-descript "you". I actually mean Ian and myself). So now I've joined the ranks of those who long for a child. I'm a participant in the regular cycles of hope and disappointment. And I'm realizing that it's a hard place to be. But I am also confident in the goodness of God and the wisdom of His timing. For when we didn't think we were ready to welcome a baby, He brought Jackson. And now that we demand that we're ready for another, I rest assured that He has the right outcome in mind.
Clarice
Saturday, September 08, 2007
A Little Lenten Period
I saw something a couple of months ago that got me all fired up. See, I have this pet peeve (well, I have lots of them, but this one is blogworthy). It really really bugs me when people throw their cigarette butts out their car windows to the street below. Maybe it's because I grew up in the 70's, when we were hounded by the "Keep America Beautiful" campaign. You know...Keep Litter in Its Place. It came at about the same time as "Only You Can Prevent Forest Fires," but that's another story. Because of that decade of brainwashing, I can NOT bring myself to litter with a clear conscience. If you check the lint trap of our dryer, you'll find plenty of evidence of that fact, as I tuck trash in my pockets if I can't find a trash can (or I tuck it into Ian's pockets so he can deal with either disposal or litter guilt) and then forget that I was going to avoid littering when we load our washer. Again, another story.
So a couple of months ago, I saw the familiar sight of an arm out a car window casually waving a cigarette. I started in with my normal flash of internal annoyance, when I noticed something that really ignited a reaction. See, the arm wasn't hanging out of just any car. No, this was a Toyota Prius. Yes, the Hybrid, the eco-friendly, "green" car. So I stayed on the car's tail, just waiting and waiting for the inevitable casual flip of the cigarette butt down to the street below. What do you think happened? Well, I have to be completely honest here. I took my eyes off the offending piece of refuse (the cigarette butt) for just a moment. When I looked back, the butt was gone, the hand empty. So I can't say with certainty that the Prius owner was also guilty of littering, but if circumstantial evidence holds up....
It just seemed like such an oxymoronic observation. Most Prius owners aren't casual about their car choice. I've found them to be fairly intentional about the choice of that particular car. And most of them choose Prius because of the potential reduction of gas consumption, thus decreasing said owner's carbon footprint. However, last time I checked, neither smoking nor littering were particularly beneficial to the environment (nor the health of the offender and his/her second-hand victims). OK. So maybe this Prius owner wasn't a rabid carbon-footprint reducer and maybe we can say that I shouldn't be so hard on the potential hypocrisy it would demonstrate. Maybe this Prius owner was just trying to be economical. You know, save some money on gas. But even that smells a bit oxymoronic, especially when you consider the fact that the average smoker consumes around 2 packs of cigarettes a day, which is the equivalent of about 2 gallons of gas (in my car, that's 2 days of commuting).
At any rate, I got all fired up thinking about other examples of hypocrisy. And after a while, I realized that many of the examples of things I thought of exemplified one side of the political spectrum. For example, why is it that many people who are passionate animal rights advocates are also strong advocates of the movement to expand abortion rights. Why is saving the whales more important that saving unborn people? OK. I got that one from Erwin McManus. Here's one I thought of on my own. Why is it that advocates who wish to normalize homosexual behavior can use the justification that sexual preference is inborn and can't be changed? Yet when a sex offender is being punished, people defend them with the justification that they can change their sexual preference and should not be subjected to preventive measures to protect children from their advances in the future. Oh no. I had a ton more in my mind that I can't remember right now. At any rate, I started thinking about using this blog to make a case for conservatism. I started a dozen posts in my mind about the drawbacks of modern day liberalism and the positive points of neoconservatism. I spent hours in the evening (and sometimes even at work) reading political blogs trying to put together evidence-based coherent arguments. But then something happened...
It was about a month ago at small group. A friend of mine (Hi Stev!) was praying for us to be passionate about the things that Jesus was passionate about. And suddenly I had this feeling of conviction. I was spending much more time pursuing knowledge of politics than I was knowledge of Jesus. And I had this immediate sense of what I had to do. I tried to push it away, but it kept coming back. So 30 days ago I declared a little lenten period. I was going to avoid all of my favorite political blogs and any other kind of political analysis for 40 days. Instead, any time I had a compulsion for that material, I would try to think about Jesus instead.
So it's been 30 days now. And it hasn't been too bad. It was kind of tough at the beginning, especially when major political moments occurred. But I've enjoyed redeeming the time. And come to think of it, I can't even remember what major political events occurred in the past 30 days which would require my attention.
10 more days to go. Hopefully, I'll be able to return to my political education with a bit more balance. But I'll still allow myself to get a bit annoyed when I see the flip of cigarette butt out the car window.
Clarice
So a couple of months ago, I saw the familiar sight of an arm out a car window casually waving a cigarette. I started in with my normal flash of internal annoyance, when I noticed something that really ignited a reaction. See, the arm wasn't hanging out of just any car. No, this was a Toyota Prius. Yes, the Hybrid, the eco-friendly, "green" car. So I stayed on the car's tail, just waiting and waiting for the inevitable casual flip of the cigarette butt down to the street below. What do you think happened? Well, I have to be completely honest here. I took my eyes off the offending piece of refuse (the cigarette butt) for just a moment. When I looked back, the butt was gone, the hand empty. So I can't say with certainty that the Prius owner was also guilty of littering, but if circumstantial evidence holds up....
It just seemed like such an oxymoronic observation. Most Prius owners aren't casual about their car choice. I've found them to be fairly intentional about the choice of that particular car. And most of them choose Prius because of the potential reduction of gas consumption, thus decreasing said owner's carbon footprint. However, last time I checked, neither smoking nor littering were particularly beneficial to the environment (nor the health of the offender and his/her second-hand victims). OK. So maybe this Prius owner wasn't a rabid carbon-footprint reducer and maybe we can say that I shouldn't be so hard on the potential hypocrisy it would demonstrate. Maybe this Prius owner was just trying to be economical. You know, save some money on gas. But even that smells a bit oxymoronic, especially when you consider the fact that the average smoker consumes around 2 packs of cigarettes a day, which is the equivalent of about 2 gallons of gas (in my car, that's 2 days of commuting).
At any rate, I got all fired up thinking about other examples of hypocrisy. And after a while, I realized that many of the examples of things I thought of exemplified one side of the political spectrum. For example, why is it that many people who are passionate animal rights advocates are also strong advocates of the movement to expand abortion rights. Why is saving the whales more important that saving unborn people? OK. I got that one from Erwin McManus. Here's one I thought of on my own. Why is it that advocates who wish to normalize homosexual behavior can use the justification that sexual preference is inborn and can't be changed? Yet when a sex offender is being punished, people defend them with the justification that they can change their sexual preference and should not be subjected to preventive measures to protect children from their advances in the future. Oh no. I had a ton more in my mind that I can't remember right now. At any rate, I started thinking about using this blog to make a case for conservatism. I started a dozen posts in my mind about the drawbacks of modern day liberalism and the positive points of neoconservatism. I spent hours in the evening (and sometimes even at work) reading political blogs trying to put together evidence-based coherent arguments. But then something happened...
It was about a month ago at small group. A friend of mine (Hi Stev!) was praying for us to be passionate about the things that Jesus was passionate about. And suddenly I had this feeling of conviction. I was spending much more time pursuing knowledge of politics than I was knowledge of Jesus. And I had this immediate sense of what I had to do. I tried to push it away, but it kept coming back. So 30 days ago I declared a little lenten period. I was going to avoid all of my favorite political blogs and any other kind of political analysis for 40 days. Instead, any time I had a compulsion for that material, I would try to think about Jesus instead.
So it's been 30 days now. And it hasn't been too bad. It was kind of tough at the beginning, especially when major political moments occurred. But I've enjoyed redeeming the time. And come to think of it, I can't even remember what major political events occurred in the past 30 days which would require my attention.
10 more days to go. Hopefully, I'll be able to return to my political education with a bit more balance. But I'll still allow myself to get a bit annoyed when I see the flip of cigarette butt out the car window.
Clarice
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Sunday, August 26, 2007
He Likes Cake
This was taken about a month ago at the birthday party of one of his little school friends. Poor firstborn child of a pediatric dentist. At 17 months of age, he'd only had cake 3 times in his life. He'd only had maybe a dozen cookies (it only took him 24 hours to learn how to say "coo-key, coo-key, coo-key"). Only had one m&m once because Aunt McCall didn't know that pediatric dentists' kids get limited sugar exposure. And has only had water and milk to drink...until this same day, when the birthday boy's mom handed him a juice box, which he polished in short order, followed by the slamming of fists together (sign language for "more") and repeated pleas for "more wah...peesh." How long do you think we can keep him in the dark about the ravages/pleasure of sugar?
Clarice
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Look Who's Talking
So now that Jackson's (almost) mastered walking and running, he's moved on to advancing his verbal skills. It's so adorable. We hear him in the morning when he wakes up talking to his stuffed "swamp cat." Just babbling away in his little precious voice. Other times, he'll point at something, look at us expectantly and say something like, "belaka chp num pekatu cho...um...bao bao?" We don't know what he's saying half the time, but he's clearly mastered some words. The words don't always sound like they're supposed to, however. But since we have to listen to him all the time, we've started piecing together what some of his words actually mean. So here's the first edition of the Claweyre translation of the Jackson lexicon of language.
TRANSPORT (he likes wheels and anything attached to wheels):
bus = bus
cah = car (slight Boston accent, since that's where he first came into existence)
ehpane = airplane
ehcop = helicopter
NATURE:
ow-di = outside
moo = moon
tree = tree
kys = sky
ANIMALS:
mao mao = cat
wo wo = dog
ba ba = lamb
bur = bird
cow = cow
FOOD ITEMS:
cheese = cheese
nilk = milk
wah = water
bao bao = Chinese for bread (yes, our boy is developing bilingual tendencies)
ooof = orange
ba = banana
bok = broccoli
appo = apple
appo = grape
appo = cherry
appo = pear
PLEASANTRIES:
bye bye = bye bye
hi = hi
peesh = please
keeku = thank you
nonononononono = I don't want to say sorry
and our personal favorite....
ow Ow = I love you
I'm hoping he grows out of "ow Ow" before he meets his future wife. But for now, it's darn cute.
Clarice
TRANSPORT (he likes wheels and anything attached to wheels):
bus = bus
cah = car (slight Boston accent, since that's where he first came into existence)
ehpane = airplane
ehcop = helicopter
NATURE:
ow-di = outside
moo = moon
tree = tree
kys = sky
ANIMALS:
mao mao = cat
wo wo = dog
ba ba = lamb
bur = bird
cow = cow
FOOD ITEMS:
cheese = cheese
nilk = milk
wah = water
bao bao = Chinese for bread (yes, our boy is developing bilingual tendencies)
ooof = orange
ba = banana
bok = broccoli
appo = apple
appo = grape
appo = cherry
appo = pear
PLEASANTRIES:
bye bye = bye bye
hi = hi
peesh = please
keeku = thank you
nonononononono = I don't want to say sorry
and our personal favorite....
ow Ow = I love you
I'm hoping he grows out of "ow Ow" before he meets his future wife. But for now, it's darn cute.
Clarice
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Pain and Suffering
Last Thursday, Jackson contracted a fever and I kept him home from daycare on Friday. The poor little guy was just miserable and uncomfortable, his skin burning hot. He would try to sleep and just toss and turn, whimper and groan. Even play time was short bursts of joy tempered by his body's internal battle. It was really sad to see him suffer.
Twice, when Jackson was unable to sleep at a nap time, I let him run around and play. Both times, he would eventually come to me and hold my leg, not saying the usual enthusiastic "up?" I held him while working one-handed on my computer and he would watch quietly, maybe scratching a finger on the edge of the computer, but none of his usual contorting to click every button within reach. Both times, he fell asleep in my arms, very quietly and peacefully.
Now, here's the awesome part. Both times, the little guy just wanted to be held by his daddy so he could fall asleep. And I discovered that this resulted in me being even more filled with love for him. It was more than being chosen by him and my being able to comfort him. My heart just went out to him in his pain and suffering and limited means of communication. And being allowed this privilege caused far greater feelings for him than I have when he's healthy, running around and not needing or wanting the same closeness or quality time. And I experience a lot of joy from his healthy moments.
I think I connected with God in those moments. He loves us unconditionally and longs for us to desire him. When we need him most, He is there the most. When we suffer the most, he loves us the most. I need my Daddy God. Thank you Lord! I love you, too.
Now my wife has what Jackson had - hot skin, achy body, restless sleep. It's my privilege to love her through the moment.
Ian
Twice, when Jackson was unable to sleep at a nap time, I let him run around and play. Both times, he would eventually come to me and hold my leg, not saying the usual enthusiastic "up?" I held him while working one-handed on my computer and he would watch quietly, maybe scratching a finger on the edge of the computer, but none of his usual contorting to click every button within reach. Both times, he fell asleep in my arms, very quietly and peacefully.
Now, here's the awesome part. Both times, the little guy just wanted to be held by his daddy so he could fall asleep. And I discovered that this resulted in me being even more filled with love for him. It was more than being chosen by him and my being able to comfort him. My heart just went out to him in his pain and suffering and limited means of communication. And being allowed this privilege caused far greater feelings for him than I have when he's healthy, running around and not needing or wanting the same closeness or quality time. And I experience a lot of joy from his healthy moments.
I think I connected with God in those moments. He loves us unconditionally and longs for us to desire him. When we need him most, He is there the most. When we suffer the most, he loves us the most. I need my Daddy God. Thank you Lord! I love you, too.
Now my wife has what Jackson had - hot skin, achy body, restless sleep. It's my privilege to love her through the moment.
Ian
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
The ABC Song
I was really really hoping that Jackson would be musical. And happily, he's showing evidence that he might not have inherited his PapaJohn's...uh...lack of pitch sensitivity. To PapaJohn's credit, there's a wonderful resonance to his voice. But my compliments will have to stop with his speaking abilities.
The first evidence of Jackson's musical sensibilities came as a surprise a few months ago. He was in the charge of his Auntie M while Ian and I had dinner out. When we came back, M said that he had hummed the tune to "Skip to my Lou" along with her. I hadn't heard him do that yet. Hence, the surprise. Sure enough, the next morning when I sang it to him to test him out, he echoed the notes of the chorus right back to me.
Then a few weeks later, I put him down to nap. Sometimes, we put a book in his crib so he can entertain himself before falling asleep. This time I put a little songbook with a micro-keyboard in with him. I heard him tapping on some keys. Then I heard a single note followed by an off key "aaa". Another note followed by a slightly flat "aaa". Then a third time with the same key on the piano. And darned if he didn't hit that note pitch perfect..."AAA"! The kiddo was learning to sing on key!!
Then last month we were in Atlanta for the Independence Day holiday. We noticed that Jackson had this little phrase he kept repeating. A O A O A O A. We weren't sure what he was singing until we realized that the notes of his A O A O A O A perfectly matched those when we sing A B C D E F G. Of course that entertained us for a while (especially cousin Aidan, who really knows his ABCs).
Now the ABC song is heard daily in the Eyre household. And Jackson's shown significant improvement. Now he's up to A B E B E B E, Etch Uh Uh Uh Uh Uh X. Then he quits. He's getting better every day. And he loves to perform. In fact, next time you see him, ask him to sing the ABC song. He will gladly oblige. He might not have all the lyrics down yet, but as his mama, I am proud to announce that he's hitting all the right notes pretty close to proper pitch.
Clarice
The first evidence of Jackson's musical sensibilities came as a surprise a few months ago. He was in the charge of his Auntie M while Ian and I had dinner out. When we came back, M said that he had hummed the tune to "Skip to my Lou" along with her. I hadn't heard him do that yet. Hence, the surprise. Sure enough, the next morning when I sang it to him to test him out, he echoed the notes of the chorus right back to me.
Then a few weeks later, I put him down to nap. Sometimes, we put a book in his crib so he can entertain himself before falling asleep. This time I put a little songbook with a micro-keyboard in with him. I heard him tapping on some keys. Then I heard a single note followed by an off key "aaa". Another note followed by a slightly flat "aaa". Then a third time with the same key on the piano. And darned if he didn't hit that note pitch perfect..."AAA"! The kiddo was learning to sing on key!!
Then last month we were in Atlanta for the Independence Day holiday. We noticed that Jackson had this little phrase he kept repeating. A O A O A O A. We weren't sure what he was singing until we realized that the notes of his A O A O A O A perfectly matched those when we sing A B C D E F G. Of course that entertained us for a while (especially cousin Aidan, who really knows his ABCs).
Now the ABC song is heard daily in the Eyre household. And Jackson's shown significant improvement. Now he's up to A B E B E B E, Etch Uh Uh Uh Uh Uh X. Then he quits. He's getting better every day. And he loves to perform. In fact, next time you see him, ask him to sing the ABC song. He will gladly oblige. He might not have all the lyrics down yet, but as his mama, I am proud to announce that he's hitting all the right notes pretty close to proper pitch.
Clarice
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Pat Pat Pat
What is it about us as adults that when we pick up babies we like to pat them on their backs? Both Ian and I have been doing that since Jackson was a newborn. He's even learned from my mother that the comforting rhythmic pressure of an adult hand on his back is called "pat pat pat." We used to pat him to burp him or to soothe him when he was distressed. Now it's usually after he's fallen or unhappy.
A few months ago, Jackson started patting us. It's cute as all get out. He'd be crying about something (usually being denied the pleasure of throwing his milk cup across the room or losing sight of us as we passed into the bathroom). We'd pick him up in his distressed state and he would calm down as he patted either of us on the back.
So yesterday as I dropped him off at daycare, I disappeared for a nanosecond into the kitchen and he became upset. I came out and picked him up, holding him close for a hug. He calmed and started patting me on the back (because I was distressed? I don't know). Then he stopped and looked at me and reached around to pat his own back. I was trying to figure out what he was doing when he patted me again, then looked at me and patted his own back. Then I got it. He wanted me to pat his back. So I did...and he relaxed with the pleasure of it. Funny how far a little pat pat pat can go.
Clarice
A few months ago, Jackson started patting us. It's cute as all get out. He'd be crying about something (usually being denied the pleasure of throwing his milk cup across the room or losing sight of us as we passed into the bathroom). We'd pick him up in his distressed state and he would calm down as he patted either of us on the back.
So yesterday as I dropped him off at daycare, I disappeared for a nanosecond into the kitchen and he became upset. I came out and picked him up, holding him close for a hug. He calmed and started patting me on the back (because I was distressed? I don't know). Then he stopped and looked at me and reached around to pat his own back. I was trying to figure out what he was doing when he patted me again, then looked at me and patted his own back. Then I got it. He wanted me to pat his back. So I did...and he relaxed with the pleasure of it. Funny how far a little pat pat pat can go.
Clarice
Monday, July 09, 2007
Single Mom
Ian left today. He's scheduled to be gone for one month working on a movie officially called Untitled Genre Project. Poor sod is stuck in Hawaii while I get to luxuriate in the summer heat of Los Angeles in our ramshackle, non-air-conditioned duplex with a toddler in the throes of early onset terrible twos.
It's actually Ian's second out-of-town assignment for this same project. Last time was 11 days in New Mexico. And Jackson and I survived (with a little help from my mom). Ian asked me how I felt about his absence this time around. I told him that the net effect was zero. I'm more anxious about the longer period of time (and sad about not seeing my sweetie for a whole month), but feel more confident that I can do it, having done it for 11 days already.
But it helps to know that in a month, he'll be back again. I just don't know how single moms do it for years on end. I just can't imagine not being able to share the load AND the joys of parenthood with another. One of the other moms at Jackson's daycare once joked that whenever her husband was out of town, leaving her alone with the kids, she always greeted him on his return with the declaration that her resolve never to divorce him strengthened with each experience with single parenthood. I definitely prefer parenting with a partner.
So hurry home, my dear. There's so much to share. It's only been one day so far (out of the thirty-something to come), but you've already missed out on Jackson releasing a squirt of diarrhea on his bedroom floor AND the cute anecdote about how he greeted his little friends Chris and Anusha today.
Clarice
It's actually Ian's second out-of-town assignment for this same project. Last time was 11 days in New Mexico. And Jackson and I survived (with a little help from my mom). Ian asked me how I felt about his absence this time around. I told him that the net effect was zero. I'm more anxious about the longer period of time (and sad about not seeing my sweetie for a whole month), but feel more confident that I can do it, having done it for 11 days already.
But it helps to know that in a month, he'll be back again. I just don't know how single moms do it for years on end. I just can't imagine not being able to share the load AND the joys of parenthood with another. One of the other moms at Jackson's daycare once joked that whenever her husband was out of town, leaving her alone with the kids, she always greeted him on his return with the declaration that her resolve never to divorce him strengthened with each experience with single parenthood. I definitely prefer parenting with a partner.
So hurry home, my dear. There's so much to share. It's only been one day so far (out of the thirty-something to come), but you've already missed out on Jackson releasing a squirt of diarrhea on his bedroom floor AND the cute anecdote about how he greeted his little friends Chris and Anusha today.
Clarice
Family Time
Ian and I made a commitment to make sure that Jackson had an opportunity to see his paternal grandparents at least twice a year. This has turned into an annual Eyre clan gathering over the 4th of July holiday (if you do it twice, is it officially an annual event?). So last week, the clan gathered together for some family time. Here we are at the foot of Stone Mountain in Georgia.
It has been wonderful to spend time with these folks. I'm really blessed with my new extended family. PapaJohn is a jolly bloke, with an infectious laugh and an incredible knowledge of Scripture and church history. MumIvy is a tenderheart who loves to serve her family in any way she can (and particularly through baked goods). My brother-in-law Roy and his wife Becky are an inspiration in the way they have chosen to be involved in the advancement of the kingdom of God through their work with Wycliffe Bible Translators. And I love the way they have chosen to raise their three kids, who are wonderful cousins to Jackson. And Elisabeth is my kindred spirit sister, who likes to read the same kind of things I like to read and think about the things that I like to think about. So blessed.
Sad to be gone from the madness of the Eyre family gathering. Looking forward to the next.
Clarice
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Does he know?
Since Jackson was about 3 months old, we've had a nightly routine with him. First he gets a bath and gets dressed in his pajamas (kids pajamas are so darn cute!!). Then we read him a story. And after his story, we pray with him on his behalf. We just wanted to get him in the habit of thanking God for the blessings of the day. At first, he didn't like it much. We would try to fold his hands together, which he resisted as an infant. However, at about 9 months of age, he started getting used to the idea. He would independently fold his hands together, sometimes bow his head, and stay silent until we finished praying with him. Then maybe two months ago, he started saying "Amen" after hearing us say "In Jesus' name." I think he is accustomed to the idea of praying together with us.
Ian and I have our own morning routine, which we've had since a few weeks into marriage. When the first of us to leave prepares to depart, we have a short time of prayer just to get our minds and hearts in the right place for the day. It's been our time, but since Jackson started daycare at 5 months, we've been including him in our time by just holding him with us as we pray. We never really explained to him what was happening. It was just part of our routine. Well last month, a few words into our prayer time, we heard the "pat" sound of little hands clasping together and a little voice saying "Amen" over and over again. Somehow he knew that what was happening in the morning was the same thing that we did with him at night. I thought it was really quite amazing that he made the connection. Maybe it was the "In Jesus' name..." that tipped him off. At any rate, he has now become an active participant in our morning prayer time.
Last week, something else amazing happened. On our commute home, I decided to abstain from my usual auditory diet of talk radio or children's music and instead tuned in to a Christian music radio station. They were playing a worship song that I wasn't familiar with. All of a sudden I heard the little voice in the carseat behind me pipe up with his chorus of "Amens." I pondered it in my heart for a week until it happened again yesterday. How is it that he knows that worship music and prayer time have something in common? I've often heard it said that children are more spiritually attuned than adults are. I'm starting to think so. Otherwise, what else could explain how he seems to recognize activity intended to usher in the presence of God. Can't wait to see how he grows in his spiritual awareness.
Clarice
Ian and I have our own morning routine, which we've had since a few weeks into marriage. When the first of us to leave prepares to depart, we have a short time of prayer just to get our minds and hearts in the right place for the day. It's been our time, but since Jackson started daycare at 5 months, we've been including him in our time by just holding him with us as we pray. We never really explained to him what was happening. It was just part of our routine. Well last month, a few words into our prayer time, we heard the "pat" sound of little hands clasping together and a little voice saying "Amen" over and over again. Somehow he knew that what was happening in the morning was the same thing that we did with him at night. I thought it was really quite amazing that he made the connection. Maybe it was the "In Jesus' name..." that tipped him off. At any rate, he has now become an active participant in our morning prayer time.
Last week, something else amazing happened. On our commute home, I decided to abstain from my usual auditory diet of talk radio or children's music and instead tuned in to a Christian music radio station. They were playing a worship song that I wasn't familiar with. All of a sudden I heard the little voice in the carseat behind me pipe up with his chorus of "Amens." I pondered it in my heart for a week until it happened again yesterday. How is it that he knows that worship music and prayer time have something in common? I've often heard it said that children are more spiritually attuned than adults are. I'm starting to think so. Otherwise, what else could explain how he seems to recognize activity intended to usher in the presence of God. Can't wait to see how he grows in his spiritual awareness.
Clarice
Friday, June 22, 2007
Flashback
Our back lawn is dying. It's brown and yellow and the dirt below is rock hard. In the winter, it's a luscious green, but in the summer it requires significant watering to stay alive. Ian and I made an executive decision a few weeks ago to just leave it alone. I had been reading that this year may be a record-breaker in terms of lack of rain. I had been hearing that we are possibly in for a drought year rivaling the drought conditions of the 70's. I was explaining that to my mom the other day when she saw the desert behind our home. And something she said took me back to my childhood.
I remembered the drought conditions we had in the late 70's. Everyone was urged to conserve water. We had a swimming pool that we didn't maintain, leaving it half-filled to avoid wasting water. We took brief showers, turning off the water to shampoo and lather up, turning the water back on only to rinse. The gross conservationist strategy was that we only flushed the toilet if we did #2. Otherwise, we let volumes of #1 collect until the deposit of a #2 justified the 2-3 gallons of water used per flush. I hope it doesn't get like that again.
I also remembered the gas crisis in the 70's. I remember waiting in lines for hours to get gas. I think Carter had decided to impose some restrictions on fuel, resulting in a severe shortage. But that was back when gas cost 10% of what it now costs. I definitely hope we don't revisit the long waits in addition to the increased cost.
And I remembered hearing in school that scientists had been studying the weather patterns and were warning that we should prepare for an ice age. I remember hearing my teacher talk about the possibility that we, like the dinosaurs, might end up going extinct. I wonder what happened to that data when they started postulating the possibility that we're now supposed to be entering a global warming disaster. I really hope we don't revisit the ice age idea. I much prefer warm weather to cold.
Clarice
I remembered the drought conditions we had in the late 70's. Everyone was urged to conserve water. We had a swimming pool that we didn't maintain, leaving it half-filled to avoid wasting water. We took brief showers, turning off the water to shampoo and lather up, turning the water back on only to rinse. The gross conservationist strategy was that we only flushed the toilet if we did #2. Otherwise, we let volumes of #1 collect until the deposit of a #2 justified the 2-3 gallons of water used per flush. I hope it doesn't get like that again.
I also remembered the gas crisis in the 70's. I remember waiting in lines for hours to get gas. I think Carter had decided to impose some restrictions on fuel, resulting in a severe shortage. But that was back when gas cost 10% of what it now costs. I definitely hope we don't revisit the long waits in addition to the increased cost.
And I remembered hearing in school that scientists had been studying the weather patterns and were warning that we should prepare for an ice age. I remember hearing my teacher talk about the possibility that we, like the dinosaurs, might end up going extinct. I wonder what happened to that data when they started postulating the possibility that we're now supposed to be entering a global warming disaster. I really hope we don't revisit the ice age idea. I much prefer warm weather to cold.
Clarice
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Jackson Kisses
Jackson recently learned how to give kisses. At first it was blowing a kiss. Well, he'd put his hand to his mouth, say "mmmm", then throw his hand out somewhere. Then about a month ago, he learned how to kiss us on the faces. We always had to demonstrate first by kissing each other. Then he would offer each of us a slobbery kiss on the cheeks (after attempting to kiss on the mouth first).
Jackson has LOTS of stuffed animals. Plushes of all types - lions, caterpillars, monkeys, Bruin bears. None of them have been purchased by us. Half have been gifts from generous friends. The other half appear in our home on an occasional basis, usually after my mom has been over for a visit. She knows he has a ton of stuffed animals, but she said she wanted to make sure he had lots of animals to love.
So lately, Jackson has been expressing his love to his stuffed animals. He'll spend the entire evening with his little blue lamb in hand, occasionally kissing it on the mouth and babbling to it. We'll find him in his crib in the morning looking his "Swamp Cat" happily in the eyes and kissing her/him on the nose. And his naptime doggy lovey gets an affectionate bite on the nose before being smothered by a slobbery kiss. It's darn cute.
Part of me marvels that he can be so affectionate with objects that can't return his affections. To me, it means that he feels enough love to share without expectation of return. At least, that's what I assume. At any rate, it's very heartwarming. Now to get him to kiss his grandparents on command....
Clarice
Jackson has LOTS of stuffed animals. Plushes of all types - lions, caterpillars, monkeys, Bruin bears. None of them have been purchased by us. Half have been gifts from generous friends. The other half appear in our home on an occasional basis, usually after my mom has been over for a visit. She knows he has a ton of stuffed animals, but she said she wanted to make sure he had lots of animals to love.
So lately, Jackson has been expressing his love to his stuffed animals. He'll spend the entire evening with his little blue lamb in hand, occasionally kissing it on the mouth and babbling to it. We'll find him in his crib in the morning looking his "Swamp Cat" happily in the eyes and kissing her/him on the nose. And his naptime doggy lovey gets an affectionate bite on the nose before being smothered by a slobbery kiss. It's darn cute.
Part of me marvels that he can be so affectionate with objects that can't return his affections. To me, it means that he feels enough love to share without expectation of return. At least, that's what I assume. At any rate, it's very heartwarming. Now to get him to kiss his grandparents on command....
Clarice
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
I'm Okay
Jackson was sick last month. Well, he's been sick quite a few times since entering into the daycare viral cesspool, but it was a tough one last month. He was a little wheezy, which worried me a bit, since one of his previous colds resulted in coughing and wheezing that was serious enough for him to be put on the nebulizer. Ian has mild asthma, and I also had a mild form of asthma as a child that I eventually grew out of. So I was worried that Jackson might show more signs of asthma during last month's illness. Every night I would listen to him after he fell asleep to make sure that his breathing wasn't labored. And he was usually fine. However, one night he had a particularly difficult time falling asleep. Then around 4 AM I heard him coughing and crying a bit. So I got up to make sure he was breathing okay. I sat on the floor next to his crib for a few minutes just listening to the rattle and buzz of his little airway. I could tell he was having a hard time. He was on his stomach and kept rubbing his face against the sheet, coughing, and crying out in little mewling protests of discomfort. All of a sudden, he pushed himself up and turned his face in my direction. He was alert and still, peering at me in the dark. Then he took his little hand and reached out to touch my face. He smiled, figuring out that the form next to his bed was real and not just a dream. Then he put his head down on the bed, maintained eye contact with me for a few seconds, then drifted into a more peaceful sleep. It was almost as if he knew that I was there and decided "mom's here so I'm okay." I had to sit there for a few more minutes in the darkness just processing the fact that my presence set him at ease.
A few nights later we were at our small group. Jackson was playing with a little three and a half year old girl (I'll call her "A") whose parents also come to our group. He was still getting the hang of walking at the time and took a little tumble under her watch. I looked over to see her helping him on his feet again and asking "Are you okay?" I thought it was cute that she was checking on him (especially since we're not sure how much he understands). Then about a half hour later, she took a tumble of her own off the sofa. I heard the unmistakable sound of little hands and feet hitting hardwood, an exclamation of "ow!", then the announcement to the adults of "I'm okay!" I found it to be rather endearing that she would immediately think that the adults would need to be assured of her status. Then I remembered that I'd heard that before while at the home of other friends. The child left alone to play in her room...crashing sounds...and the shout of "I'm okay." And I realized that these children knew they were loved. They knew that their parents would be concerned about how they felt after their little bumps and bruises. And our three and a half year old little friend, A, had learned to transfer that concern to another.
All of this made me think of that passage in Mark, where Jesus was talking about how we should "receive the kingdom of God like a little child". I was never sure what that meant. But I think I'm getting a better idea. I am so unlike a little child in my faith at times. I'm not like Jackson, where I am comforted by the knowledge that my parent is near. Even when I see evidence of my Heavenly Father's presence and His concern for me, my heart often remains troubled because I don't trust His presence and concern. I think I need to learn that from Jackson - to rest well knowing that my Father is watching me. And I'm not like Jackson's little friend, A, where I am so confident of my parents' concern. I am not so convinced that my Heavenly Father cares and I don't offer Him regular thanks nor even requests for things I need. I know it intellectually, but I think I need to learn from "A" the confidence that He really wants me to let Him know how I am. I need to learn from these little ones that I'm okay and to announce it regularly.
Clarice
A few nights later we were at our small group. Jackson was playing with a little three and a half year old girl (I'll call her "A") whose parents also come to our group. He was still getting the hang of walking at the time and took a little tumble under her watch. I looked over to see her helping him on his feet again and asking "Are you okay?" I thought it was cute that she was checking on him (especially since we're not sure how much he understands). Then about a half hour later, she took a tumble of her own off the sofa. I heard the unmistakable sound of little hands and feet hitting hardwood, an exclamation of "ow!", then the announcement to the adults of "I'm okay!" I found it to be rather endearing that she would immediately think that the adults would need to be assured of her status. Then I remembered that I'd heard that before while at the home of other friends. The child left alone to play in her room...crashing sounds...and the shout of "I'm okay." And I realized that these children knew they were loved. They knew that their parents would be concerned about how they felt after their little bumps and bruises. And our three and a half year old little friend, A, had learned to transfer that concern to another.
All of this made me think of that passage in Mark, where Jesus was talking about how we should "receive the kingdom of God like a little child". I was never sure what that meant. But I think I'm getting a better idea. I am so unlike a little child in my faith at times. I'm not like Jackson, where I am comforted by the knowledge that my parent is near. Even when I see evidence of my Heavenly Father's presence and His concern for me, my heart often remains troubled because I don't trust His presence and concern. I think I need to learn that from Jackson - to rest well knowing that my Father is watching me. And I'm not like Jackson's little friend, A, where I am so confident of my parents' concern. I am not so convinced that my Heavenly Father cares and I don't offer Him regular thanks nor even requests for things I need. I know it intellectually, but I think I need to learn from "A" the confidence that He really wants me to let Him know how I am. I need to learn from these little ones that I'm okay and to announce it regularly.
Clarice
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Photo Shoot
Our friends Joe and Jenny came over a few weeks ago to take pictures of Jackson. They have a side business doing video and stills of weddings (and babies). Just go to www.pictage.com and search for Jackson Eyre. He was a little serious that day, it being his first photo shoot and all. But Jenny was able to capture some of his livelier moments. Enjoy!!
Clarice
Monday, April 30, 2007
Anecdotal Notes
One of the hard things about working parenthood is that we miss so many precious moments. Fortunately, the child care center includes notes when the kids do special things. It's not the same as being there, but at least we know. Here are some of our favorite notes:
"During a diaper change, a caregiver was sending kisses J's way. J started to make kissing sounds back."
"Jackson was really interacting with Rowan today. He would make eye contact, and when R would laugh, he would laugh too. Later, R would throw a ball and look at J. J would look at R, then go after the ball. He would let R have it & R would toss it again & repeat. J did this 4 times. J also would make eye contact with Lena and laugh, making L laugh. Then he would shake his body (wiggle), causing more laughs."
"While holding a lid to a container, Jackson walked all the way across the room to Anusha. He gave her the lid, then came down on his knees, hugged her, and crawled away."
"Ate a very hearty lunch!!! 2 huge BMs" - one written HUGE!!, the other written HUGE :)
That's our boy!
Clarice
"During a diaper change, a caregiver was sending kisses J's way. J started to make kissing sounds back."
"Jackson was really interacting with Rowan today. He would make eye contact, and when R would laugh, he would laugh too. Later, R would throw a ball and look at J. J would look at R, then go after the ball. He would let R have it & R would toss it again & repeat. J did this 4 times. J also would make eye contact with Lena and laugh, making L laugh. Then he would shake his body (wiggle), causing more laughs."
"While holding a lid to a container, Jackson walked all the way across the room to Anusha. He gave her the lid, then came down on his knees, hugged her, and crawled away."
"Ate a very hearty lunch!!! 2 huge BMs" - one written HUGE!!, the other written HUGE :)
That's our boy!
Clarice
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Broken
Somebody gave me a pair of sand dollars many years ago. I don't remember who...maybe Callista or Christina, from journeys overseas. I've saved them all these years, keeping them safe and protected. But then last week when I was cleaning our office, I saw them on the floor, broken. They weren't shattered or anything. Just chipped around the edges. Nonetheless, I promptly went to the kitchen, retrieved our dustpan and swept them right up. Once I got them into the dustpan, I stopped for a moment. I usually don't discard sentimental items so quickly - especially items I've kept so long. But who needs imperfect sand dollars, right? Something was niggling at the back of my mind so I paused another moment to consider what was holding me when it came to me.
Earlier that day we took a trip to the zoo (where Jackson and Harper had their first date). We had been waiting at the entrance for Harper to arrive, when we saw a large group also waiting to go in. They were remarkable for three reasons. First, they were all wearing the same bright turquoise t-shirts. 1980's turquoise. Second, they were all adults. Since when do you gather a group of adults for a field trip to the zoo? Third, they weren't just any group of adults. On closer inspection, I saw that they were adults with special needs. Many of them looked quite unaffected, but then one would flap his arms in the air and snort, another would hit his head with his fist, another would begin slowly rolling up the end of her turquoise t-shirt to reveal bare midriff, until stopped by an adult without a turquoise t-shirt. Other adults were clearly affected with Down syndrome or physical deformities. Oh, but you should have seen the pack of them when they saw Jackson and Harper. There was a group of 6-8 who kept waving to the babies and saying "Hi, baby!" They wanted to know how old the babies were and if they were going to the zoo and if they could say hi back. They made Jackson and Harper smile...and warmed my heart.
I thought of them as I stared at my broken sand dollars. I thought of how I hold on to things as long as they serve whatever function I have designated for them. But when that purpose is fulfilled, I consider discarding...unless I think I might need it at some point. I only like to keep things I think are useful. And I thought of how we as Americans think. We are becoming a society that has no value for things or people that are "broken." So often, the imperfect are discarded because they cannot fulfill an expected purpose. Then I decided that I should blog about my thoughts....and didn't.
But today I started reflecting again about the value of a human life when I was telling Ian about the most significant part of my day. I saw a child in my dental practice who got me thinking. He was almost 13 years old and had a diagnosis of autism. He could understand instructions somewhat, but didn't talk much. He required constant supervision and was in special education. But most significantly, he was the recipient of a heart transplant. I was a bit surprised by that. I think heart donations are hard to come by. I was surprised that someone who may not become a "productive" member of society was given a healthy heart to replace his defective one. Somebody thought his life was worth saving.
So today I thought of my acquaintances at the zoo again. I thought about how delightful many of them were. And I thought of my sand dollars. I didn't want them any more because I considered them to be broken. But I've heard that if a sand dollar breaks, seven doves will be revealed. So perhaps things that are broken shouldn't be considered useless. Perhaps they are meant to be broken to serve another purpose than what we assume is intended.
Clarice
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