Random Rant

Parents, please teach your children proper elevator etiquette so when they are all grown up, they will be polite citizens. There are too many uninformed adults out there. (I'm giving the the benefit of the doubt by assuming they just don't know better.)

Let's review: When you enter an elevator, you allow the people exiting the elevator to get off BEFORE you push your way on.

Doh'

I KNEW this would happen! For many months now we have been attempting to avoid saying certain words around Baby Zog. Of course, we don't use the common four-letter varies, but we're also trying to avoid words that children should not use like "shut-up," "mine," etc.

So yesterday morning, we were dressing Baby Zog and I said, "Should we wear these shoes with this outfit or does Daddy think that will look stupid?" Of course, I said it more to Daddy Zog to get his opinion, but regardless, I said it.

Baby Zog looked at me, curiously cocked his head and said, "Daddy? Stupid?"

Argh! Bad Mommy. Bad. Bad.

18 month check up

18th Month Stats:
Height: 34 inches (91%)
Weight: 26.25 lbs (56%)
Head: 18.7 inches (42%)

In the last four months, his weight has gone from the 83rd percentile down to the 56th. We were a little worried about that, but the doctor says it's totally normal. He's just getting tall and skinny. He grew nearly two inches in the last two months. I understand where he gets the "tall" from, but not sure how the boy wound up with "skinny!"

All in all a good visit with a very well behaved 18 month-old, although he is still fighting a sinus/ear thing he's had for a month now. The doctor finally decided she thinks allergies could be the culprit, so in addition to starting the THIRD antibiotic he's been on this month, Baby Zog is now also taking Zyrtec daily. We hope this will help. Poor boy.

MY JOY

This will be a first for Zogland, but I've decided to start a reoccurring post. I'm going to call it MY JOY. I can tell you it will be simple, as the most joyful things in my life are simple. I can also guess that about 95% of the posts will have to do with Baby Zog as he is the ultimate characterization of my joy. I remember hearing a Sunday school teacher once say that happiness was outward; joy was inward. I like that.

So, here is MY JOY, the first post:
I love this photo taken last Sunday before church. First, we were surprised by this lovely Azalea bush in our front yard (see, we know nothing about plants, so until the flowers popped out, we'd never really noticed this bush.) Second, check out Baby Zog's eyelashes. I remember holding him when he was mere hours old and falling in love with those eyelashes. Next, his hair. Of course it's awesome and curly and unruly. How can it not bring joy?

If you'd like to leave a comment and tell me what brings you joy, I'd love to read them. Grown up life can get us down (see yesterday's post), but the sun rises the next day and the choice is mine anew. I'm going to find joy...and hopefully a job too!

Grown Ups

I was nearly six when my baby sister arrived. For me, it meant a weekday sleepover at my friend Laura's house and a baby living in the empty room at home. I was unaware of impact on my parent's lives - the new responsibility, love, and fear.

For 9th grade, I left my private school and went to public school. Some financial reason was the culprit, but I realized some buddies were headed there too, and was satisfied. I'm certain if you asked my parents how the summer of 1991 treated them, they would recall more details.

I once remember my mother being upset when a friend passed away. However, she still cooked dinner, read me a story, and took me to school. All was well.

The summer of my 15th year, my mom had back surgery. I was away on a trip at the time. I returned home and mom was walking again. No big deal.

When I was 20, my dad had to fly out west to handle the division of his father's estate after his passing. I had not been close to my grandfather and since the trip didn't affect my collegiate activities, this is all I can tell you about it.

When did hardships and tragedies stop being things that happen to our parents and start being things that happen to us? I've become a grown up, and it's hard. All of a sudden it's ME who is out of work and wondering how to keep my kid in school. It's MY friends who are fighting for their lives against cancer. Its MY generation who have to pace waiting room floors while their children undergo operations. It's people MY age who deal with injuries that keep them from emotional and physical happiness. I'M the one who pours over financial documents and then smiles and makes grilled cheese for dinner while singing the ABC song.

I haven't sorted what this means to me, but lately I've realized that things I was always sheltered from are now mine to endure as well. I was duped into thinking "becoming your parents" meant twirling your glasses in that funny way like your dad does (yes, I do this) or scraping your plate with your fork like your mom does (not yet doing this.) I'm starting to clue in that it's so much more than that.

So here I am. No turning back! Onward we press, etc. There is no choice but to embrace the small things that bring me joy (such as Baby Zog), work damn hard to make a happy life for my family, keep positive, and say lots of prayers. I want to be the best grown up I can be, not only for those I love, but for myself. I can do this. I can handle this. I can deal.

Right?

Love at First Sight

I finally got to meet my new perfect niece last week. I went and spent five days getting to know her and helping her mommy and daddy around the house. I even helped her mommy with Josie's first outing to a very important place in any girl's life: Target. Given that she is seemingly a perfect newborn and a champion sleeper, they really didn't need that much help. But it was a great visit anyway and I am totally in love. I can't wait for Baby Zog to meet her and love her too.

Baby Josie looks cute when she yawns, don't you think? I can't believe she'll be a month old this Thursday. Of course, I can't believe Baby Zog is eating strawberries with a fork as I type this. Funny thing about time: it's gone as soon as it arrives.

EASTER

Easter 2008 versus Easter 2009. Is it possible that only 12 months have passed? (Hmm...and he's still being outfitted with sweater vests purchased by his Sitti. Maybe someday we'll be able to afford new clothes on our own. In the meantime - THANK YOU SITTI!)

Easter morning got off to a discouraging start. Baby Zog woke up with a very swollen right eyelid. A call to the nurse concluded it's probably a bite of some kind. So we pressed on and donned our Easter best (sans bonnets) and headed to church where Baby Zog promptly got his entire right hand stuck in an elevator door. Seriously? Yep. Thankfully, the hand seemed okay, and he was content in the nursery a few minutes later. Meanwhile I'm left thinking, "Can we please just have one day -- really I'd prefer a whole week -- where he isn't sick or hurt in someway?" This is one of those infamous things about parenthood for which you can never prepare. The constant worry followed by feeling like you are always being "kicked when you're down." Daddy Zog and I were feeling pretty blue.

But the sun's glorious rays were touching my skin and the service touched my heart. I was reminded through beautiful music, moving words, and quiet prayers of the power of the Resurrection and the promises it holds for me --and for my small son, swollen eye and hand in all. No matter what you believe, I hope you too were uplifted in some way this beautiful Sunday morning.

We concluded our festivities with some friends who joined us for brunch and an Egg Hunt in our front yard. For an 18-month-old, Baby Zog seemed to understand hunting eggs. Maybe next year we'll actually hide them.

And the sun shines again...

This has been one of those weeks where God wanted to make sure I was in this motherhood thing 100%.

Last Friday: Baby Zog's teachers are concerned about the "gunk" in his eyes.

Saturday: Baby Zog goes to doctor. No pink eye, but a double ear infection. Baby Zog starts Augmentin.

Sunday night: Baby Zog throws up in crib.

Monday: Baby Zog sent home from school after throwing up once and having what we'll call "exploding poo" three times.

Since Monday: Mommy home with Baby Zog and his relentless exploding poo. Apparently, his tummy does not welcome Augmentin. Doctor says we need to stick it out to get rid of the ear infections. Baby Zog not interested in eating more than a single cheesy poof every now and then.

Thursday night: We switch to a new antibiotic which seems to be treating him better already.

So, here is what Mommy Zog has learned:

1.) When my child has gunk in his eyes, its always the sign of an ear infection. This has happened three times now. New parents, take note.

2.) Our toys are boring and should all be replaced. Mommy's headbands are much more entertaining (see photo above.)

3.) Even for a child who normally doesn't watch t.v., there is such a thing as too much Elmo.

4.) When they told me to make sure I had at least three crib sheets for my baby, they meant it.

5.) I am SO GLAD my husband has no classes on Fridays!

We're on the mend now and looking forward to a visit from Grandma this weekend. I have realized that it's okay to think "this sucks" when you are caring for a sick child and you are both bored out of your mind. At least the rain has stopped and we can hit the park today!