'Tis the Season

to be crazy...



So it's been awhile. Not sure what I've been doing that has kept me away, but I'm back. Whew. Going through my stack of stories, and there are some good ones, and deciding what to share. Gym pooping and social ostracism or bungee cord door?

Let's go with the cord. It's the most recent.

So, Dec figured out how to get out of his crib awhile ago. And I was very proud of my fabulous mothering when he did what I asked him immediately and cut that shit off. But you know what I say about pride. It'll always come back on you.

And last week it did. Wednesday, Declan didn't nap. He got out of bed every time he got the chance and came down to meet me in the living room. I figured it was a fluke.

Thursday, I heard a rustling in the monitor, turned, opened my eyes slightly and found a big, round face. "Mama". He didn't bother to call for me, probably because coming directly to the source is much easier. Nap time came and went and no nap occurred. Then bedtime which only took a few upstairs trips, and then he was out.

Now, it's important to note that Declan is a rock star sleeper. After a rough start, he is like clockwork. But I've learned that I took a lot for granted. Because at 11:30 on Thursday, 30 minutes before Rich gets home from Philadelphia, I heard a rustling and a wide awake Declan came down to meet me.

To tell the truth, I was actually a little excited. Rich travels every week and never gets to see Declan when he comes home. This would be a special treat. So I brought D into our room and lay him in our bed. I figured if he wanted to be with me so badly that he was refusing his own room, maybe he could take a little nap and Rich could come home to a little surprise.

12:30 came and went, no Rich. And no sleep for Declan who decided he wanted to roll around, yell doggie, touch my nose, and giggle at nothing. So let's get this straight: Declan can escape his room (and don't even mention the door handle thingies, Declan promptly takes those bitches apart and throws them on the floor), and comes down the stairs at every chance he gets, but will not go to sleep next to mommy.

So...how is he going to sleep, ever! I called Rich to ask where he was and it turns out that he was having his own problems. On the coldest night of the year, -6, Rich not only had a dead battery in the airport parking lot, but on his way home, got a flat tire on 435. And when he got home at 2:30am it was to Declan and I on the couch. D not quite asleep, but getting there.

So, being the trooper he is, he scooped Declan up and put him in his bed; only to be met with rustling a few minutes later when D ditched the bed and went down where the action was.

So at this point, D has lost seven hours of sleep. This kid is a mess. He did the silent cry because he wanted a goldfish and didn't get it. The silent cry.

It was a long weekend.

Friday afternoon, Declan did nap for about an hour. We transformed the bed and put on the toddler rails thinking that if he escaped he'd at least be able to get back in. And we put a gate on the door.

At nap time, Dec immediately got out of his bed and opened the door. And, seeing the gate, screamed. For an hour. Then passed out in place on the floor in front of the gate.

There's a special kind of sadness when you see your exhausted, stubborn kiddo like this. And I decided an hour into his much needed nap to put him back in bed. But he woke up. And didn't go back to sleep.

Onto Friday night. A new solution: bungee cord. If he can't open the door, he can't see the now-obsolete gate. It worked. He didn't escape the room. But at 11:30, when Rich and I were brave enough to take a look, we found him and yaya (his blankie) passed out in front of his bookshelf. Again, no bed. This time when we put him in bed, he fell asleep, which was great. But come 4:00am, we heard him but could no longer see him in his bed. He had chosen instead to sleep in his chair. Sitting up. PTFO.

The next two nights were spent moving sleeping Declan from his chair, where he had meticulously moved all of his stuffed animals to keep him company, back to his bed. And eventually he got it. Although Rich did find him sleeping on his window seat in the morning and today when I put him down for a nap, he was up and at 'em again, exploring that newly free room. But right now, as I type, he is sleeping in his toddler bed, stuffed animals in tow.

I need a nap.

Gone, Daddy, Gone

So we've been going through a big adjustment in the Corcoran household. Rich got a new job, which we are all very excited about, but which comes with one big caveat: travel. Every week. Always.

Now we've been dealing with the travel aspect on and off since Rich got into consulting, so it was with an informed mind that we agreed on this. But I had some terms: Declan is now going to daycare Tuesday and Thursday mornings and we got a cleaning lady. We'll get mowers in the spring too. Because as much as I adore Declan, and I do massively adore him, I need to have time to recoup. Whether it's reading a book, blogging, or doing the grocery shopping, just being alone holds a special kind of significance, one that I never truly understood until D came along.

We've had some real adjustment to the whole daycare thing, even though it's only for three hours. I could just feel his little heart breaking every time I'd leave him there. I'd watch as Ms. Tiffany cuddled and reassured him and I heard his screams all the way out the door. Man! That is a special kind of heartbreak. But, something happened yesterday.

Declan's been getting better each time. He says "Min-ee Min-ee" a lot (Ms. Tiffany) then with big, earnest eyes, "buh lub a low" (play dough). I think he's only played with play dough once there, but it was enough to shift the winds ever so slightly. Flash forward to this Tuesday when Declan screamed his head off and had a huge fit. He was so upset. And everyone kind of stopped and looked at me. Because Declan didn't want to leave. Yes, I was picking him up. Now it's me that makes him cry. Don't know if I was quite ready for this yet.

But overall I'm proud. He's been doing so much better at the gym, so much so that I don't really have an excuse not to go anymore. But, they don't change diapers, and Declan knows just when to poop. Right when I'm in the middle of aerobics. Kid's got some good timing.

This Wednesday, I happened to forget the diaper bag. I always forget something. So D and I had a little talk, and I asked him to please not poop. And I really thought we had an understanding. And I was convinced that he was in on the plan.

I won't go into detail, but Declan was most certainly not in on it. And the result was a couple of good, thorough hand washes on my part, done in the gym bathroom, and Declan being cleaned up with paper towels and then going commando for a minute while I searched for a diaper.

Then we went to storytime.

Costumes and Cry Babies

So my friend Sara invited me and Declan to come to her company Halloween party yesterday afternoon. It was great. There was candy at every desk, themed food (think cheese dip molded into a witches hat, awesome), games, and activities. It rocked.

Before we could go, Rich and I put on Declan's costume.

Yeah, that sentiment deserves its own paragraph. Imagine this: we've carefully and meticulously picked out the perfect costume; the right subject matter, right size, and right warmth has all been considered. And much too much money later, we came up with the perfect thing: Floppy the Bunny.
Needless to say, he was less thrilled with the costume than we were. But, I mean, come on this thing is cute. Let's take another look.

So after some sweet tarts and a little Jerry rigging of the top part (I converted the hat into a hood via scissors and safety pins), we were off to the party.

Declan was off and running right away. Exploring, eating, just having an all around fun time. But Dec loves a staircase and would not stay away. So Sara and I took him down the stairs twice to explore the whole building.

And then we found the elevator. D loves an elevator too. So much so that right as we arrived back to the main party level, his fingers all got stuck in the elevator door. Not so that it closed on them, so that the whole time it was opening, it was crushing those little guys. I thought for a quick second that I wasn't going to be able to get them loose and I think I may have been shouting in a very high pitched way, but miraculously, they all came out, and none are even bruised today.

But it did enough to make Declan thoroughly pissed. So I gave him some more candy, which seemed to distract him enough. But, I may have given him a little too much....

The next half hour was spent watching a frantic little toddler run, fall, climb, and shriek his way around the office, all while insistently trying to go down the stairs again. Sara sweetly told me about her sister in law and what she does for trick or treating. Had I ever heard of a child harness? Yes, I nodded, yes I have.

I explain these things about Declan almost every time I talk about him, and yet I think it really takes the true experience to understand what I mean when I say he's in fast forward. And hopped up on candy yields the triple triangle fast forward. Sara gets it. I don't think she'll ever ask again why I don't take Dec to the tailgate.

Fine, here's another. Go ahead and giggle.

Infections

Sometimes, when I'm just run down or I need a little alone time, I'll say I don't feel well. What I'm really feeling is tired and overwhelmed. This is not one of those times. This is not one of those times where you can discard your "upset stomach" the moment something fun comes along. And I'm good at the faux upset stomach. It started in first grade when I somehow figured out that if I went to the nurse before Mrs. Walker's math class with an upset stomach, that meant I didn't have to go. And when I was teaching, I'd occasionally take a "sick" day. I've always just needed them to recoup or as an excuse to be excessively lazy.

But now I don't get sick days, and there's some serious karma going on because I get sick now, really yucky, sniffly, headachy sick. And while I know it's part of being a parent of a toddler, it still sucks. Because Declan and my days truly depend on being mobile. That kid cannot and does not just entertain himself at home. And he gets even more agitated if I want to do something as unimaginable as sitting down. He'll pull my finger and grunt impatiently until I get up. And when I do, he'll stop, but the moment I sit again it starts back up. So I want to get this straight: I do not ever get to sit down during the day.

So I'm sure you can imagine that the fact that we've been sick four out of the last eight weeks has made even mere existence a little, well, awful. Options are limited for life with a toddler, and a sick toddler can't go to story time, the daycare at the gym or play groups. Which leaves...not much, especially if you're not allowed to sit down.

Now I realize I shouldn't complain. Staying home with Declan is a great privilege, but I'd sure love a sick day now and then.

Growing Pains

Sometimes it blows my mind when I think of Declan getting older. And that to him I will always be "mom". It breaks my heart to think about the day he'll sink down in the car to avoid being seen with me. The day I look at myself in pictures and see the frumptastic outfit I thought was cool. But I've always cared about what was cool. At least, I cared for a long time. I think that part of me is fading fast. And my identity is now two fold, but I'm hoping it doesn't make me fractured.

I've always been a cusser. In fact, I've always gravitated toward the edgier parts of life: parties, gossip, cussing. I've never been demure, conservative or excessively rule-abiding. I've always been what they call outspoken to your face and bitchy behind your back. And I can own that. At least that way, I get to say what I really want and not mask it behind a pinched smile. I've always enjoyed having the freedom to do and say exactly what I want when I want.

But Mom doesn't. Mom is patient, mutes cuss words from songs and doesn't let Gigi watch Fight Club while babysitting (waaay too much violence for a toddler). So does this mean I'm evolving? Or maybe it's an identity crisis. At home, I am in charge all the time. Every decision I make, excluding those that are made in conjunction with my husband, is mine and mine alone. I pay the bills, mop the floors, and decide which games Declan plays. I am the boss lady. Some women do this before they are mothers. Some women, those I envy, not only get it all done but they also have a cache full of great recipes and decorate the house for holidays, complete with theme cookies. I had a wrought iron pumpkin on the porch from October to May. Lana did that one.

And Lana is sometimes neglected. Lana likes to dance all night and yell and laugh and sleep all day. I sound like Tyler Durden. I am not a split personality (yet), but to deny my "Lananess" leaves me lonely. What makes it worse is that most of the friends I've nurtured over the years just aren't doing the same thing I am right now. And while I envy people who can just take their kids along to whatever they are doing and can enjoy themselves (as my mom swears she could) just the same, that is just not what I'm finding works for us.

Most of the things I loved (and still love) to do were not family friendly. Tailgating is a blast...until you do it with a wiggly toddler who just wants to run up and down the hill and open and shut porta-potty doors the whole time while you stare longingly at those people who get to actually have a conversation. Bars are great, but come on, I'm not that hard up!

Most of my closest friends are not mommies yet. So, I've spent the last 10 months trying to find some new additions. And I have to say, I'm doing a pretty good job. People say that as an adult it's harder to make friends. Well, what about as a mom? My goal is to find friends who can jibe with both sides of my existence. Play groups and potty training by day, Chardonnay by night. But just wanting the Chardonnay doesn't cut it these days. Now I have to first want Chardonnay, then either put Declan to sleep and drink it while watching TV, something I've always found a little useless because there's no one to talk to, or find a sitter, and then the hardest part of all, find someone else who would like to go have a drink to go with me. Because I either have to plan it so far in advance that by the time it comes, someone ends up with an excuse to bail or so spur of the moment that everyone already has plans.

And even as I'm writing this, I know that every mom feels this way. Whether she wishes she could spend more time doing bible study or dancing on the bar (you guess which one is me). And I've seen lots of mommy facebook posts asking if it's time for a drink yet at about 4:00 on a Friday. These are my people. My name is mommy, but you can call me Lana.

Blocked

I think I'm hitting a creative low right now. It seems I'd rather watch my nightly Bravo than express myself creatively. Hence my lack of blog posts. Rachel Zoe is stealing my mojo. I die. Bear with me, my zest for writing will return. Until then, I'll give you some of the very best examples of why having a 1 1/2 year old rocks.

1. When Declan's hungry or eating something he likes, he stares at his food and gives a throaty mmmm. He also does it to me or Rich if we have something he thinks is delicious. And in public to strangers.

2. This weekend, I met a 3 year old little girl who was the same size, if not a little smaller, as Declan. When we got home, Declan seemed like a toddler giant.

3. Declan makes friends wherever we go. The last time I took him to the doctor, in spite of feeling pretty cruddy, he put on a show, complete with a dance and a shimmy for the doc and his assistant. Most of the checkers at Dillons know him by name.

4. Declan learned how to say "shhhh!" and whisper. He knows to whisper outside of Daddy's office. When he says shhh, he also does the finger motion in front of the lips. His finger is always up his nose.

5. His new favorite song is "She Wolf" by Shakira.

6. Sometimes when we are walking side by side he reaches up and takes my hand.

7. He'll now get the phone and tell me the person he'd like me to call. Then we call so he can say hello.

8. He told me this time before he pooped in the tub. I enjoy his preparedness.

9. Dec loves slides. The joy he gets from a slide ride greatly outweighs the joy I get from any activity. Even shopping.

10. I spent my second weekend away from him and he survived. I was doubtful that this could occur. It's called progress people. Progress!

Tickle Me Emo

So I finally got my first visit from the Parents As Teachers lady. She was great, and I'm happy to have any ideas that take me away from incessant reruns of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. You can judge all you want, I don't care. I'm willing to admit that Declan watches way too much of this cartoon. So much so, that he can say Mickey, Minnie, Donald and Toodles. Plus, he can sing part of the Hot Dog song. It's the first thing he asks for in the morning and the last at night. But I think they only made like 15 episodes, so I can practically recite them. Just to clarify, we only allow three a day, but I know a lot of television purists who I'm sure would be, or more accurately are right now, appalled at that number.

Anyway, back to Parents As Teachers. I swear this kid had a meltdown just looking at her. Here I am, hoping she sees my smart, active kiddo, and all she can say is that he's obviously "sensitive", which I know means "big wussy". We call it Emo Baby. I didn't know aobut Emos until my seventh graders explained them. Back in my day (and I'm ancient to 12 year olds) we had goths and granolas. This Emo thing is new. Basically, Emos are goth-like kids who feel sorry for themselves even though they live in safe suburban neighborhoods and have no real troubles in life. Hence Declan the Emo Baby.

And Emo Baby was in effect. I mean just standing up was making him upset. But as soon as she walked out the door, happy baby. WTF? And the other day he bit me so hard that I now have a purple bruise on my arm. The offense? I was talking on the phone.

It's Karma. When I was little, my sister and I would sleep with my mom. One of us on each side. But I didn't really like my mom to look at my sister so I'd take her head and turn it toward me. Every time I woke up during the night, before bed during story time, as we were falling asleep, every single time. So now I'm paying for what I put on my mom, one whine at a time.

But Declan's not just whining. Occasionally he learns a new body part or word. He totally surprised us with the other day when some friends brought their newborn over. Declan pointed and said baby right away. I was pretty proud. Some words we have to work hard for. I've been trying to get him to say help for awhile now (I think it could be a way for him to escape Emo Baby) and nothing. He has yet to say anything close to help, but baby he got without even a prompt. Here are a few of his words, and one of his very favorite activities.




I often focus on Scooter's annoying qualities, but this is one of his best. He lets Declan mount him like a cowboy and just sits there. Occasionally, he'll stand up and knock Declan off, but D just thinks that's hilarious and starts again.

We've also been working on identifying body parts. As you can see, some parts Mommy emphasizes, and some Daddy....




And with that I say goodnight!

Lady Kelly

There are some things that Declan does that are completely from Rich. There's one eyebrow raise that is eerily identical to Dad. Plus there's that boy energy. But there's one way in which Declan is definitely just like mommy. He's become obsessed with my ipod. It all started when I would put my ipod on while folding laundry. Declan thought it was fun to play on my bed, so I thought of it as a win win. Then he started running into my room and pointing at my ipod until I put it on. And he has some favorite artists.




And most of you know he's on fast forward pretty much all the time. Except for when he's mesmerized by techno beats.



But as with all passionate people, he lets me know just exactly what is not tolerable.





So we find something he can accept.

Sometimes it seems like I never leave my house.  Especially on rainy days.  I play a game called "Where in the Hell Can I Take Declan".  Maybe it's because I live in Lawrence and, let's face it, we don't have all the variety in the world.  Maybe it's because Declan is in constant motion and places like Target aren't exactly a fun trip out.  Declan ends up squirming and demanding cookies: duck-dee.  Imagine this: I'm walking at an inappropriately quick pace (it helps Declan if he's still moving at his normal speed), shrieking giggles and loud thumps can be heard across the store from me (Declan enjoys throwing things out of the cart and thinks it's really funny when I bend down to pick them up), all followed by an almost constant beat of "duck-dee?"

Declan's "vocabulary" has really exploded.  Or I should say his attempt at vocabulary...because I know what he's saying, even if you don't.  Dada, for example, means both Daddy and Doggie.  Nuh means nose, no, and sometimes keys (hmm...one of these things is not like the other).  Vava means flower and water, but voo voo means poop even if my mom swears he calls poop baba.  Yaya means yes and blankie.  And, well, you get the picture.  He is absolutely itching to talk and tell me all of those things in his head.  Things like: "Mom, give me a cookie right now and I don't want that stupid vegetable, I said give me a cookie!"

Reminds me of a little cartoon and his cheesy poofs.  

Time After Time

In what used to be every week, but now seems to be sporadic postings, I highlight for my millions of readers (and by millions I mean five) what it's like for me to be a mom. I've been gifted with lots of ammunition for an entertaining read. Declan and his ever-reaching hands have assured that I'm never lacking in stories. And while I'm almost never clean, groomed, and fed, I'm always, always on my toes. And sometimes I just want a break. I just want to recline lavishly in a chair and have my feet rubbed.

I think every mom feels like that from time to time. What we don't always realize though, is that this baby that tears through the house and wipes graham cracker on my favorite skirt and throws whole bowls of applesauce on my new curtains is growing up.

And from last Tuesday on, everything new Declan does will take him further away from the baby that he was to his grandma Lauri. It was a sad day when we learned that Lauri had breast cancer, heartbreaking when we found out it had spread aggressively, and tragic when we saw her deteriorate at the end. But in the time between her diagnosis and her death, Lauri loved Declan with every ounce of strength she had. And like all precious, fleeting things, it is only in reflection that I can truly appreciate how much he meant to her.

And I'm so sad that he won't grow up basking in that love. We'll all recount it to him. We'll tell him how he gave her kiss after kiss on her last day and how she'd pick him up and hold him even when the cancer was reeking havoc on her bones. And how she didn't care if it hurt, it was worth it just to hold him. But it won't be the same as loving her in real time.

All she talked about when I was pregnant and in the first months of his life was having Grandma and Declan days. She wanted to take him to the zoo, spoil him with sweets, and spend her retirement watching him grow. And they'll both miss those great times.

There are many tragedies at work here, but since this blog is about Declan, I'll stick to this one. Looking through pictures of her, there was a special light in her eyes when she was with Declan. What a lucky kid! With all the possibilities out there, Dec was gifted not only with parents who love him, but grandparents who adore him.

So I'll try to do those things with him in her memory. And I'll make sure he sees her pictures and listens to the stories and knows that at her funeral so many people that I hadn't met knew all about Declan and how important he was in her last year. And I hope that somehow, somewhere when he grows up, he has a little bit of her with him.

To grandmother's house we go.

Some new things Declan's accomplished: eating his own yogurt, having great hair, and ridding the world of unneeded bibs.


Sometimes it seems that every one of my blogs starts like this: So, this week was a tough one.... And I will not disappoint. This week was indeed a tough one. Actually it's been the last two weeks.

Last week, D was having an afternoon tantrum extravaganza, so I took him upstairs and put him in his crib. At least, I'm 99.9% sure that's what happened because after he screamed for 10 minutes and I went up to check on him, he met me at the door. So I thought real hard about that .01% chance that maybe I just left him standing in the middle of the room. Nah, he escaped. 15 months old and he had his first jail break. Gotta give the kid credit. Turns out he was so traumatized that we gave him chocolate milk to soothe him a little. It was only later that we realized we rewarded him for his bad behavior. Grrrreat.

But that night he slept well and didn't escape in the morning. We chalked it up to a fluke and moved on. Last Saturday night, we had a wedding shower in Topeka, so we brought Declan up to Rich's parents. They were excited for their first bedtime babysit and had everything ready. They spoiled him with fast food and played with him until past his bedtime...all the things grandparents should do while babysitting.

At around 7:40, my begging and pleading paid off and Rich finally called his parents to check in. They said Declan had cried for about 15 minutes and then fallen asleep. We were beyond excited. We had been dreading this night and expecting Rich's parents to call at any moment to announce that Declan could not and would not go to sleep in an unfamiliar bed. We know our son well, so this was a complete surprise.

As the story goes (oh yes, there's more, but you knew that already, didn't you?), Rich's mom, Lauri went in to check on Declan about 15 minutes after we called. She tiptoed into the room expecting to see her grandson slumbering soundly but was met instead by an empty pack 'n play. Yep, no Declan. After a frantic call downstairs to Rich's dad, they searched the room. And they found him alright. Curled up in the corner with blankie. Behind a chair.

I've told you about blankie, right? Actually, I should write it with a capital B because he's Declan's best friend. Blankie and Scooter. And the nunnies that live in the garden.

There are two mysteries surrounding that night. 1. the pack 'n play was in a complete upright position and 2. how in the hell did Declan fall asleep after his jailbreak? This kid is notoriously picky about sleep conditions. He must have blankie, his crib, door closed, and night light in order to even consider sleep. And don't even think about skipping story time. If Dec doesn't have stories before bed, he will cry for 40 minutes. Guaranteed.

So how did this kid, after escaping the pack 'n play, decide to just curl up in a nice cozy corner to sleep? Rich and I laughed and laughed, but we've been on our toes ever since anticipating that night where he decides to Houdini us again. I'll keep you posted.

Oh, and I've got just one more thing. Today, Declan pointed to a Jayhawk and said Day-da. I'm counting it, people! One more word to the word bank. That is added to poo poo and water (va va) this week. Oh, and cookie. He said that one all through the store yesterday. Awesome.

Sober

Truth be told, Rich and I don't have a ton, outwardly, in common. I love Bravo and Rich watches Squidbillies. Enough said. What? You've never heard of Squidbillies? Then you must not be a squid or a hillbilly.

But, we both love to go out, and have been known to enjoy a drink or two. And, neither of us have many close friends with kids. In fact, we both have quite a few that aren't even married. So you can imagine that a weekend with our friends does not include trips to the zoo or afternoons in the park.

Rich's college friends were in town this weekend, and we had a ton of fun. In fact, I currently have a large bottle of Captain Morgan on my counter. It has a handle. Not that this would be even noteworthy in our pre-child existence, but now it's just so incongruous sitting next to sippy cups and bibs.

Needless to say, when Rich left for New Jersey this week, I was struggling. Not because I'd had too much to drink (I was, in fact, kinda lame) but because I didn't sleep while they were here. So, I was hoping for a nice, relaxing few days with Declan....

And you can all see where this is going, since you are aware that my son is a peach, not an apple. Thank you again for your wisdom, Kung Fu Panda.

So yesterday was just tough all around. It was raining, so no park. Declan was fussy every few minutes, so no relaxing. Then we went to the McDonald's play land. Not that there's anything wrong with it, but as a life long vegetarian, it's not usually on my list. So you know I was going to desperate measures, but what else do you do with a little road runner when he's fussy at home? And I love sweets, so we splurged and split a McFlurry. I mean, I should just end the story here, because all you really need to know is that McFlurry sent sugar surging through my little Speedy Gonzales. And you can imagine what happened next. There was lots of wiggling, pointing, stomping, and running. And by the time we went home, I was more than pooped. And it was only 3:30. Oh the irony.

After a few hours at home filled with teary demands, which mostly resulted in me carrying D around the house, it was finally time for bath. Yes! Declan can entertain himself in the bath and it means bedtime is right around the corner. I'm not ashamed to admit that I covet bedtime. It means I can actually do things like check my email and, you know, pee, without interruption. My reward for a long, trying day, is the few hours I get at night to do whatever I want...as long as I stay in the house. But that's another blog for another day. We're talking about the bath.

So Declan's having a great time. He's drinking from his bucket and coughing then laughing hysterically and doing it again. And I got him pretty much all done when he paused. And Declan does not pause. If anything he calms down to "play" from "fast forward", but pausing is relatively unknown in this house. I hear a little grunt, and...flurp! two brown buddies popped up to the surface.

I know this isn't incredibly uncommon, but for me it was instant panic. I scooped him out, searched for something to catch the poops in, and frantically grabbed at them. And while I was doing that, I was also holding Declan, throwing them into the toilet, preventing Declan from scooping them out again, and trying to keep poo off any unnecessary surfaces. I have never, ever truly multitasked until I was a mom. Hands down, I will put the skill I learned in that moment against anything I learned in college or in the "real world". I might try the whole one-man-band thing next.

Sink or Swim

This picture is the most accurate representation of Declan's existence. I call it "Fight Club Baby". His shirt is filthy because he won't wear a bib, he has two massive horns on his head from 1. running straight into the bed post and 2. doing a double axle off of his arts and crafts table. Next, we have his bruised legs from incessant climbing, falling, bumping, and climbing over the dog.

But he's not always moving. Declan has an animal book that he loves. He points at the pictures, and we tell him the names of the animals. Sometimes we spend a few minutes saying the same name over and over again. One of those animals is the bunny. So this morning when I saw a bunny in our front garden, I scooped Dec up and pointed until he said "nuh nuh", which is Declan for bunny. Glowing with pride, I inched open the door and we went out to look at the bunny closer. Declan, of course, couldn't stop pointing and saying "nuh nuh" so the bunny hopped away. We went inside and I thought we had a moment and could now go back to our day.

"Nuh nuh"

Declan was at the door. I told him that there were no more bunnies because it had hopped away. Undeterred, Declan spent the next ten minutes at that door nuh nuhing away. So I took him outside to show him that there were no more bunnies. Except there was one. So we watched it and it watched us and eventually Declan pointed and shouted and the bunny hopped away. And then Declan went looking for it. Under the bushes "nuh nuh". Back to the garden "nuh nuh". Pointing in the trees. You get the picture. It took me a quite a few minutes to coax him back into the house. And I was foolish enough to think that this bunny business was over. But, no. Cut to a half hour later. Declan's "nuh nuh" cries have escalated to a feverish pitch and his red little face is contorted and tears are rolling down his cheeks. He had a bunny meltdown.

As he lay in his crib to calm himself down (but really to get him away from me because I couldn't take it anymore), I realized that I had vastly underestimated my son's tantrum abilities. And love for bunnies.

So we've established that my son is no blushing flower by now, right? But until now, I hadn't properly considered this affecting my life expectancy. Because he almost gave me a heart attack this week. And then he shattered my ear drums. And you wonder why I can't get it together enough to blow dry my hair on a regular basis.

Now, I've always, always wanted to have a pool. I have infuriated my husband with concepts for our hypothetical pool for years. It's one of those things that I'm convinced if I had, would change my quality of life. That, and the ability to wear skinny jeans. Or, more accurately, the ability to look great in skinny jeans.

So Dec and I were at my friend Whitney's on Wednesday. She has a pool. And would look great in skinny jeans... But back to the story. We went outside and were playing with chalk when Declan took off running, and I don't mean kind of sauntering, I mean a full blown zoom, toward the pool. He must share my love of water. But instead of stopping at the edge, he just kept going. And this is where my heart attack occurred. Because even though Whitney has a safety net (literally) on the pool, Declan fell onto the net, which lowered into the pool and got him sopping wet as I screamed and lunged after him.

I pulled him up so fast that I can't even remember doing it. And what had been a mischievous little one in the moments before became a blubbering mess. And I didn't have any other emotional reaction but to laugh. As he clung to me with new found trepidation, I couldn't help but hope that he'd learned his lesson.

Next week we start tumbling lessons. Hopefully he won't run off the balance beam.

Bluffin' with my muffin

I know when I left the house my pants were clean. But when I got to the library to meet up with all the other moms, there were a pile of grass clippings, a few smeared in bites of snack, and some sort of gooey substance on them. Not to mention that on the way home I spilled coffee on my shirt. Not that it's a special shirt, but it's one of the only ones that is baggy enough to cover my muffin. I have an eternal muffin. Kind of like an eternal flame, but hotter.

I did see a girl I hadn't seen in awhile who told me I looked exactly the same. But she was drunk and it was dark. She probably thought it was a charity compliment. Like her good deed for the day. Or maybe it was the Spanx. And the alcohol. Definitely the alcohol.

My sister told me about a mom she sees at the playground sometimes. This woman, she said, always looks fantastic. Like great outfit, make up, hair, the works. But she leaves her kids in pajamas. And it totally makes sense to me. There's really only room for one of us to look cute. And Declan doesn't really care what he looks like. Maybe I should take this woman's approach. I'd certainly look better...to myself. I think I might be the only one enjoying my new glamour. I'm certain that if people will hand out parenting advice in a public restroom after seeing you for a split second, they wouldn't hesitate to let you know how black your soul is for focusing on yourself instead of your kid.

But if I don't blowdry my hair, I look like Mandy Patinkin from Princess Bride. "My name is Lana Corcoran, stop staring at my dirty outfit or prepare to die."



So now I'm taking my precious daily free time to ponder how I can get these coffee stains out and whether or not I should wear this stained outfit the rest of the day. On the plus side, if I leave it on, less laundry. On the minus, people might think we live in the woods. Choices.

Dippin Dots

Over the past few weeks, we've been on a ride.  One minute Declan's happy and giggly and the next he's throwing a tantrum and all his food on the ground.  We've fed him while holding him, while sitting with him, inside, outside, on a train, on a plane...you get the idea.  

In between tantrums, Declan has turned into quite the ham.  Recently, he's discovered dipping.  He takes his fork, spears whatever is on his plate, and dips it into a sauce (usually barbecue).  Such a little feat for us, but for Declan it defines his whole meal experience.  I know if I offer him something to dip, we'll have a good mealtime.  A few nights ago, Declan wanted to dip his bread in my tomato soup.  He loves this particular soup (Amy's Chunky), so I wasn't surprised.  Then dessert time came.  We gave him oranges, which are a new favorite, but he still wanted my soup.  And as soon as the spoon came up to his mouth, he smiled.  Not a "thanks, mommy" kind of smile, but a calculating, idea-forming smile.  And the orange went into the spoon.  Oranges and tomato soup?  I thought he'd screw up his face in that "this is nasty" look, but he happily chewed and then pointed to my soup for more.  Yes, he ate all of his oranges with tomato soup that day.  This is a kid that doesn't like mac and cheese,  and refuses pizza half the time, but this he adored.  

One of my favorite things about being a mom is watching Declan's personality emerge.  He is just the most mischievous thing.  And I can see his little brain coming up with new ways to explore, destroy, and maneuver everything.  I swear he scans a room, terminator style, and evaluates how fast he can tear it apart. 

A few weeks ago, Jess and Charlie came to visit, which is always so fun.  Declan adores Charlie, and I swear he soaks up everything Charlie does like a sponge.  In February, he tried to say no, no, no after seeing Charlie, and this time it was the front roll.  Charlie and Declan have the cute hambone thing in common.  And one of Char's best party tricks is a perfect front roll.  It always elicits a round of applause and while it looked like Declan was just standing by watching, it turns out he was learning how.  He's certainly not as agile as Charlie, and the downward dog turns into a side roll, but he expects applause all the same.  And he giggles.  He is immensely proud of himself.  He hopes to one day be just like Charlie.

And the thing I've been waiting for the most...Declan finally started dancing!  Tonight he kept picking the same song, looking to Rich and I and as soon as we started bopping to the music, Dec's legs started a Flashdance "Maniac" march and kept going until the music stopped.  I think Rich was more proud when he started dunking the basketball or playing t-ball, but this was my heart bursting moment.  In the end, I don't really care what Declan ends up loving, but I want him to grow up knowing that every option is open to him.  And it doesn't hurt that he seems to love music along with climbing and throwing and dunking.  

Traumatized by constant temper tantrums. Need wine. Will post soon.

Master Blaster

Have you ever had an epiphany? I'm usually too busy...but the other day, after Declan had thrown his fifth "I'm sick and I want to be held" fit of the day, I realized that we're Master Blaster. You know, the two-man killing machine in Mad Max Beyond the Thunderdome? There are two parts to Master Blaster: master the brains, aka Declan, and blaster the brawn, aka me. Master controlls blaster while sitting on his shoulders, and while our main focus is not controlling the general population, Declan does give a lot of demands while perched on me. I've known for awhile that he's not exactly sure we aren't one person, but with this epiphany I think I finally get it! I'm here to do his bidding and exist for no other cause.

But seriously, Declan's been sick and I don't know why, but this is making him extra, extra clingy. He's screamed all the way through several meals all while pointing and lunging toward me. It would break my heart if I wasn't so damn exhausted. The first few days, I endured and took him everywhere he needed. Now, I'm ready for it to be over. But I don't get to choose, so I'm predicting one stressful weekend.

Chardonnay take me away...

New Frontiers

In our excitement about Declan's new found ability to point on command, I started really emphasizing noses. I point to my nose and say the word long and slow and then point to his nose and do the same. And I was so excited when I saw him pointing his finger at his nose the other day. I silently patted myself on the back for being such a good teacher. After all, it was my profession for several years. But, as always, just when I start feeling overly proud, the world shows me that I'm not that great. Because Declan wasn't exactly pointing at his nose...

He was sticking his finger up it. And he's been doing it ever since. So far, there's no movement other than a firm planting of his index finger, but he'll figure it out soon enough. Then I'll have to worry about that finger going directly into his mouth, won't I?

Declan's totally into pointing, but he hasn't clapped yet. As parents, I think we're all worried about keeping up with milestones. Is nose picking a milestone? Is Declan advanced as I have believed all along? The next time I go to the doctor, I will definitely brag about Declan's advanced nose techniques. I think that's the best course of action, don't you? "No, doctor, Declan still doesn't clap, but he's got boogers down. And you know what? I think he gets it from me. I was an early nose picker."

Maybe I should get a video to show all my friends on Facebook. The caption will be "future prodigy".

You've got a point!

So I'm currently watching a Lifetime movie.  Yes, it's Saturday night.  And yes, I did say Lifetime.  Shit.  I chose a Lifetime movie out of all the options.  I even own a few DVDs and a Wii.  Is this the moment?  The one I'll look back on when I have mom hair and mom jeans?  The moment when I chose the Lifetime movie out of all the other options?  

But there's a reason I'm admitting this on the Internet and not just keeping it as my dirty little secret.  It turns out the main character's name is Declan.  And everyone but Faye Dunaway's character (yes, that Faye Dunaway) can figure out how to pronounce it correctly.  She keeps calling him deCLAN instead of DEClen, and it's driving me crazy.  Did I give my kid a name that people are going to mispronounce?  I love being Lana (Lawna), but I hate when people call me Layna or Lahna (rhymes with banana).  I hope Dec doesn't go through that yearly ritual in class where he's anticipating all the ways his teacher might butcher his perfectly wonderful name.  And while I understood people's inability to pronounce Guilfoyle, Corcoran is surprisingly difficult too.  And I have a friend who shall remain nameless who still spells my last name Cochran even though I've been married now for almost five years.

But this blog is really about Declan, and boy did we have a day today!  We're going through one of those leaps right now, and it's been so much fun.  In addition to throwing balls and a couple of new words like doggie and ducky (trust me, they are different), Declan has finally, finally started to like books!  He's still not interested in sitting down and listening to stories, but he's started bringing me and Rich books and pointing to pictures inside.  Tonight, he made me go through Brown Bear, Brown Bear five times.  I'm aware that in the future that might get annoying, but tonight, tonight it was lovely.  And it wasn't even the best part.  

As you all know, pointing revolutionized Declan's world.  A good point and grunt and Declan can communicate his wants and needs in a very efficient way, thank you very much.  And so we've spent a lot of time lately naming the things he points to.  Most of the time, I have no clue what he's actually identifying, so I improvise.  But sitting next to our kitchen table are three flower pots.  He's been pointing to them a lot, so today I decided to ask him to point at the flower.  Lo and behold, one chubby little finger stretched out right in the direction of the orchid. Not sure if it was really what I thought it was, I tried a few more times and sure enough, he was pointing to the flowers.  

Then we tried the light, then daddy and both times he pointed right to the place.  We were so incredibly thrilled.  Of course we tried "point to mommy" but Declan just looked at us.  I'm like his shadow.  I'm surprised he didn't just point to himself.  

But the coolest part was when Declan pointed to a flower and a doggie in a book and to the light in his room.  I can't believe I just wrote for 20 minutes about Declan pointing at the correct thing, but for us it's a complete revolution.  To me, this was just as amazing as Declan learning to ride a bike.  It's surprising how something so little can bring moments of such pure happiness.  God I'm cheesy.  First the Lifetime movie, now talk of pure happiness....  Next, I'll tell you about how home is where the heart is.  And the next thing you know, my blog will have a teddy bear border.  And when you see me, I'll be wearing a corduroy vest with a turtleneck underneath.

BTW, next week's Nora Roberts movie has Brittany Murphy and Smith Jared from Sex and the City.  Guess Faye Dunaway knew what she was doing.  And Jerry O'Connell as Declan Fitzgerald has some Emmy-worthy moments. Maybe Lifetime is cool!  Or maybe this is how they get you.  Gotta go, I think I need to go look at minivans online. 

p.s. Here is a direct quote from my husband as he comes into the room "what are you watching?  This movie sucks.  Is that Jason Donnelly?"  Am shaking with laughter.   

Big Bites

So Declan turned one on Wednesday.  And aside from all the emotional transitions we were absorbing, there were some physical ones too.  The phrase "biting off more than you can chew" comes to mind.  Because we're so adept at time management, Rich and I spent last week cramming to finish painting Declan's new room upstairs, which we didn't finish until Wednesday night.  And that was just the beginning.  We had a party to throw.  

Declan's party was at 2:00p.m. on Saturday and we worked right up until it started.  After moving all the nursery furniture upstairs, we then transformed three other rooms in the house.  We'll just say that as of Friday at noon, our main living room contained piles and piles of, well, crap and our basement was in disarray.  If it weren't for my friend Becky who spent an hour helping me move around the furniture in my living room, I think I may have had a mental breakdown.  This is when you know you have PMS, people.  Rich, he knew since Tuesday, but I passionately refuted his absurd ideas.  Needless to say, I added way more stress to my baby anniversary than was needed.

In all my whirlwind of house transformation madness I neglected to really prepare for the party.  So Friday night I was scrambling to make the food, punch, and, my first priority, the adult punch.  I wasn't sure if it was appropriate to have adult punch, but by then I really didn't care.  

Amazingly, everything came together and I don't think anyone really noticed the placement of my wing back chairs...

Declan, meanwhile, had his first case of people overload.  I could just see the inner dialogue.  With every new face at the door there was recognition, slight panic, and then relaxation once he spied Mommy or Daddy.  To be fair, Declan was really great.  I think it was all the sugar.  In addition to some seriously sugary punch, Declan loved his cake.  I really know when he loves something when he points and grunts.  And there was a lot of insistent grunting and pointing at the cake.  Success!

My friend Trisha put it best.  She said that a first birthday party is like your wedding.  It whirls by and you don't get a chance to talk to everyone as much as you want.  We had a blast though.

Leaps!

So I'm not sure if I've talked about it before, but the most useful book I've read since becoming a mom has been The Wonder Weeks.  I found it when I was looking online for help with a baby who wouldn't sleep, clung to me for dear life, and seemed unusually fussy for no reason.  It was what Oprah would call an "ah ha" moment for me.  But for me it wasn't a clarification of my soul, it was a guidebook for how to understand all those things that were driving me bat shit crazy!  I just felt so out of control, especially when all the books contradicted each other and, often, my own intuition.  

Then I found The Wonder Weeks.  God, I sound like a commercial.  But I don't care.  Here's the basic premise:  when kids go through fussy periods that seem to have no reason, they are usually on the verge of a mental breakthrough or "leap forward" as it's called in the book.  These Swedish researchers spent years working on case studies and found that during certain weeks of a child's first year (and I think the years of toddlerhood too), children reach certain mental developmental milestones.  Before the leaps forward, when kids are working on the new understanding, they get fussy and cranky and don't sleep.

And sure enough, after all the books that didn't really apply to Declan, I found one that was trustworthy.  I'm talking freaky accuracy.  Right when Declan would seem not himself and we were up late because he wouldn't sleep; right when we were taking out the Ibuprofen because it had to be teething, I'd take out that book and count out the weeks (sometimes that would take a considerable amount of time, especially after about 25 weeks), it would be right on.  

The best part about the book is that it outlined the mental leaps that take place after the fussy period and would give examples of some of the new skills that would emerge.  And every time Declan would start doing those exact things.  

It totally makes sense that this would be the book for me.  Brain science makes sense to me; way more than some authoritative-author-voice telling me I was making all the wrong decisions; way more than some super regimented Nazi routine; way more than letting my child using my boobs as comfort until he was 5.  This book did not guilt me or tell me what to do.  I hate being told what to do, it's like Marty McFly being called chicken.  It just sets off alarms.

But I've already bored you, haven't I?  And this blog isn't about the book.  It's about the new leaps forward, and the last of Declan's first year, that have been so fun this week.  His walking has totally improved.  He's been getting on his little car and slowly moving it around the room.  He's started to point everywhere and waves bye bye when he wants to leave a room.  He's throwing a ball back to me.  And he's finally gotten "all done" in sign language.  

I'm really looking forward to having a toddler.  Declan's been so darling lately.  To be honest, I wish I could have my second baby and fast forward to the time he/she is one.  I know that probably sounds cold, but we established when I started blogging that I'm only interested in the truth, not some hunky dory, pretty picture.  And the truth is that I love my little kid.  I love making him laugh and walking around with him.  I love that he interacts with his environment and understands me when I show him things.  It's just so much better than the infant stage.  Not that I wasn't totally in love with him and everything he did then, but it's just so much different now.  And at the end of this first year of motherhood I do feel I am finally getting the hang of it.  

But you know how I feel about confidence...right when you're feeling pretty proud of yourself, something new comes along to knock you back down to size.  But I think I'm ready this time. 

Yucky

I remember it from when I was a kid, and I was warned so many times that it would come. But it really doesn't sink in until you are stripping the crib, bumper and all, and you look in the closet and see the four outfits that your son has soiled in a half-day. Yep, we've got it. The Stomach Flu. Yuck.

Wait, let me correct myself, "we" don't have it. "They" have it. And by "they" I mean Declan, Rich, and now my mom. It seems this nasty virus clings to anyone and everyone it can. Except me. Poor me. No, really! I've got about seven more pounds to lose! Two good days of a stomach flu, and I'd be back at my pre-pregnancy weight! And I'd get to rest. Rich got a whole day and a half in bed. Oh, what I would do for a day and a half in bed!

It really makes you wonder when you envy someone up all night with every kind of thing spewing out of his body. What kind of warped reality am I in? I'll tell you. The kind that needs to lose some weight and get some sleep. These are two of the top things on my to do list. They are my priorities. This flu could really get me there. But no, of course I'm the only one not really affected. No chills, no fever, not even a stomach grumble. Poor me.

The weird thing about this flu is that Declan was in a good mood. He was bopping and exploring and causing mayhem the way he usually does, but just with a lot more dirty diapers. I changed eight total on Saturday. Rich, on the other hand, has just had the worst time. I don't want to embarrass him, so I won't give all the details, but let's just say he's not so keen on going anywhere out of the house right now. And, he even took a day off work. I had to put my foot down and practically pry the computer from his pale, clammy hands, but eventually he acquiesced.

The message here is...flu shots, are they worth it?

Obviously I'm kidding. Kinda. All I'm saying is that it would be nice to fit into those jeans again. Uh, oh, gotta go. My stomach's grumbling.

Break On Through

Declan decided he'd like to send you all a message.  Here it is: #=Olp=[]\;p_.  That kid is obsessed with the computer.  Whenever he sees it, he'll zoom across the room and pop right up to where it is.  My very generous sister gave me her old iBook, and on first look Declan was in love.  He often accosts Rich's work laptop.  And by accost, I mean he rips the keys out, locks it, tries to pull the screen off, pretty much anything that could irreparably damage it.  So you can imagine his frustration when he tried the same thing with the iBook.  The keys didn't budge.  And Declan got his little nails right in there and worked feverishly.  After that, the luster seemed to have vanished and he moved on to eating my wrapping paper and trying to knock over my coffee.  

As you all know from the videos I posted about a couple of weeks ago, Dec has started walking.  We were told that as soon as a week after he started he'd be tearing through the house.  Not yet.  He's slowly becoming more proficient, but he's more likely to stop and drop than wobble and fall.  I'm telling you, that kid is just like his daddy.  It's all about calculated risk.  I'm convinced that Declan learned how to slowly lower himself to the ground before he'd risk standing for long periods of time, and mastered standing up on his own before he'd try to wobble around.  Our poor next kid will probably be like me and split its head open daily by just going for it.  

But I haven't even gotten to our latest breakthrough, or should I say break down?  The story starts out happy.  My mom and I were at lunch yesterday when Declan started saying "muh".  Now this is a big deal.  Every time we've tried to get Dec to say Mama, he stares intently and "baba" comes out.  That kid cannot get past the Bs.  But yesterday was the breakthrough!  After a few "muhs", a completely clear "Mama" came out.  Oh we cheered.  Finally!  After enduring the "Juh Juh" and "Baba", Mama was finally getting some love.  Except he seemed to be moving through the alphabet because right after Mama came the N sound.  And then it happened:  as I brought the spoon to his mouth, Declan turned his head and said "nuh".  I didn't think anything of it until there were a series of "nuhs" and they happened every time he didn't want something.  Seriously?  Is my kid learning "no" already?  So I kept testing it out.  I'd take away something he was playing with and "nuh, nuh, nuh".  Not that I'm claiming he's got "no" already, but it's the beginning.  And it makes its point.  

So, it's been a whole day, and no more "Mama".  Not even an M sound at all.  But "nuh, nuh" has stayed.  I have a feeling it's not going anywhere.  

The Patty Duke Show

I couldn't stop singing the theme song from The Patty Duke Show this weekend.  I don't think I ever watched that show, but for some reason I know some lines from the theme song: they're cousins, identical cousins through and through.  At least I think that's how it goes.  

So we spent the weekend in L.A. with the Pokaskis.  There's something so wonderful about being with people that are going through the same thing.  Although Charlie is almost two now, it wasn't long ago that he was taking his first steps, putting everything in his mouth, and falling out of the high chair.  Or maybe that one was just Declan.  

Needless to say, bringing Declan anywhere is a huge to do.  And this was no exception.  The time change messed all of us (or at least me and Declan) up from the start, and at 3:00 in L.A. it's dinner time in Kansas.  Well, I don't know if it was the sleep deprivation or just plain stupidity, but we arrived in L.A. at 2:35.  On a Friday.  Yes, L.A. is famous for its rush hours, and we were treated to a doozy.  Now, if I hadn't been half asleep myself, I might have had the foresight to bring something for Dec to eat, but if I had, it wouldn't be a story.  I'll cut to the chase because I've got a lot to cover: after an hour and a half in traffic, a good half hour of screaming, most of it from Declan, I dipped into Vladimir the driver's stash of Werther's Originals and, baby bird style, broke it up in my mouth and fed Declan little bits (none big enough to choke on, hold your horses).  Of course, he took those eagerly and calmed down.  Nothing like some good old high fructose corn syrup to save the day.

Everywhere I go, people tell me they love Declan's clothes.  Of course they do, Charlie has the cutest little boy clothes ever...and all of Declan's clothes come from Charlie.  I don't know what that kid would be wearing if it weren't for Jess who kindly sends me shipments of darling clothes every few months.  And shoes, tons of shoes.  So many shoes that I have pairs ready for the next three sizes.  Declan wears a 4.  My mom consistently pics 5.5s and takes Declan places in them.  And insists they fit.  But I digress, the point of this paragraph is that Declan gets a ton of hand me downs from Charlie.  And Jess, being practical, often buys twos of her favorite things.  

So it started the first night, when we put the boys in matching, red pajamas.  We giggled and took pictures and thought that'd be the end of it.  But then they had matching fleeces and hoodies and pants.  Pictures will come.  There's just something hilarious about kids in matching outfits.  Someday they'll be really mad, but for now, we'll just enjoy it.

Charlie was such a perfect little host.  He did cry when Declan crawled onto Jessica's lap and gave him a big, sloppy kiss, but later he returned the favor.  Kids giving kisses might just make my list of things to live for.  Right up there with hot fudge Sundaes...scratch that, so much higher.  

Declan was just enamored with Charlie right from the beginning.  He crawled after Charlie and watched him, enraptured with every wiggle, stack, and chew.  This extended to one of the highlights of the trip.  We put the boys in the tub together.  Then we gave them both Mohawks. Then we took pictures.  

I can't wait until the boys are making forts and building tents in the back yard.  Hopefully they will be buds and enjoy being together as much as we do.  I'll post pictures as soon as I get them.

Baby Steps

Well, I've been stressing a little, just a little that Declan, who was so advanced on his crawling, hadn't seemed to get the walking bug. But, just today, Declan took some steps forward in that department (yes, I do love puns). He's been really sick for the last week, so he wasn't moving at all, much less making strides forward (puns are pun). Anyhoo, these videos move me (I just can't stop).

Tis the Season

For sickness.

Declan's had a few ear infections, and once, when he was really small, he was sick for a couple of days. But nothing, nothing has been like this. We've been to the doctor twice; first, when he had a cough, and then when he had a 103 temperature. That was Wednesday. It's Friday afternoon and that kid is still so sick.

He's got those puffy eyes people get when they have horrible colds. And his cheeks are bright red. He's got diarrhea, he's been throwing up, he's got a chest cough, and some serious snot running out of his nose all the time.

Of course, I find myself always leaning toward that what-if place. What if he never gets better? What if he has a seizure from too high of a temperature and gets brain damage? Does this ever go away? I guess it's karma for me always rolling my eyes at my mom when she'd come rushing into the room whenever I so much as dropped something. She practically had convulsions if I got a paper cut. I thought she was so annoyingly over reactive. Little did I know, it's genetic. Poor Declan. I'll probably put him in a plastic bubble just to make sure.

That said, I took Declan to the park last week on one of the days it was nice. While there, we met a woman there with her 15 month old and while we were talking, Declan did a triple sow cow off the gym onto the ground. Luckily, it was covered with rubber bits and he actually kind of sprang right back up. But, man, if that had been sand...

Back to my ill son, it's 68 today, so I'm going to take him outside. I figure I should take advantage of his lethargy and put him in the stroller. Normally, he'd complain right away because he hates to be confined, but I have a feeling he'll chill out today.

So that leaves the inevitable question: is it careless to expose the masses to Declan's cold or necessary to get out of the house and into fresh air?

News Feed

It's still been hard to get a good photo of the little one. He's much too concerned with moving and exploring to stop and look at the camera much less smile. But I did manage to get a few pictures when I took him outside last week.

We were so psyched last week when Declan started taking a few solo steps between cruising spots. Before that, he'd really not been interested in the whole walking thing. But baby things, they ebb and flow...no steps have occurred in a few days. Same with signs, while we were in Mexico, Declan started doing water, juice, and more. Now, he's just staring at what he wants and grunting with passion. I really should video it. If I didn't have to endure it day and night, I'd actually think it was pretty funny.

What has happened though, is that Declan is attempting to talk. Outside of the massive gibberish conversations he has with himself, he's now making sense with three words. Now, it's most likely one of those things that no one but his parents can understand, but I'm proud all the same.

Around the same time that he took some steps, Declan magically figured out waving, which is now his very favorite thing to do. Over and over. Once he figured out waving, he started opening his mouth massively and saying "Haaa", which made me laugh because I've been really emphasizing the wave myself. The books all say babies should be able to wave by 10 months, and as that milestone approached I was getting nothing. So naturally I spent hours each day waving and asking Declan to wave and each time I'd do it, I would get really excited, open my mouth wide and exclaim, "hi!!!!". Well, turns out he now thinks that in order to wave, you have to do the mouth opening and sounds too. And he thinks it's hilarious!

He's also been saying Dada for a few weeks now, which is just so cute and a really great thing for Rich to hear when he comes home from New Jersey. And I thought Mama would be next. I've been working on Mama for months! He's very interested in the words, but with all of his concentration, only Ba ba comes out, and since he babbles baba day and night, I just can't count it yet.

But no, he did not move on to Mama. He chose, instead, J.J., which is the name of our mean, antisocial cat who, of course, Declan is obsessed with. Every time he hears her collar jingle he looks around and says "Juh Juh". Seriously. I should just spend a day running away and hissing at him and maybe he'll come up with a Mama.

Overall, I'm really looking forward to him walking, especially because Spring is coming and I'd love to be able to take him to the park and have him do something other than pick up sticks and trash. But for now I'll be happy with targeted grunting and "Juh Juh".

Operation Chubby Succeeds!

It's been awhile since I wrote, but since I have no idea if anyone besides my sister reads these, I tend to think no one's holding her breath impatiently...

Let's see here. When did I last write? Oh yes, it was the death of Bigfatbaby. I miss that kid. Well, after all $65 worth of dairy and snacks, Declan has put on a delightful 1 pound and 4 ounces. I knew he still had it in him! The doctor was a little shocked, to tell the truth. I tell you, people, when Rich and I are given a task, we do not relent until it has been achieved to the highest level. Especially when it comes to the bambino.

And, (some of you may think this is not an achievement at all, but we do, so be supportive) Declan officially slept from 6:30pm to 6:30 am last night. I think I accidentally turned the monitor off, but still! It proves that he's ready for night weaning. Hell, it doesn't matter if he's ready, I am. So starting tomorrow night, our first objective is to officially wean Dec during the night. It hasn't been that bad waking up once a night, but he'll be 10 months on Sunday.

I have no pictures from Cozumel because in Rich and I's frantic packing that included every toy Declan owns, we forgot one essential: the camera. And although Grandma and Grandpa and Uncle Scott took some pictures, they didn't seem to want to follow him around night and day just to capture the cutest moments like we do. But, there are a couple of pictures, and when I do get one, I'll post.

Mexico was great. We stayed at a nice hotel, the weather, the sand, and the water were all beautiful, but traveling with a 9 month old is a little like being at a work function. You can't drink as much as you want; you're always on duty, and just when you're about to relax, you're needed for something urgent. Overall, I was so proud of my little Declonian, but it was obvious the day before we left that Declan had had enough! He refused to eat, wouldn't sleep, and, short of crossing his arms and sticking out his lower lip, he let us know it was time to go home.

Traveling home was a doozie. We showed up three hours early for our first flight only to find a one-room airport with no security line and, really, no one else there. Declan was good, crawling around and entertaining his grandparents, but I was already dreading the long day. We got there at 9:30am and didn't get home until 8:30pm. Loooong day.

The first flight was okay. Declan slept on my and Rich's lap most of the way. During our three hour lay over in Houston was when it got really interesting. We stopped to eat at a Chili's and Declan did well, and seemed to be enjoying himself. It wasn't until Rich looked at me, with laughing eyes, and asked me if I heard Declan that the real fun began. One look, and we could see that Declan hadn't just pooped, he pooped all over his back and it was seeping out of his onesie. In a panic, we took off for the nearest store, found a Houston onesie and went about our task. I hate to say it, but Declan's Baby Gap, adorable, "Apple of Daddy's Eye" onesie was a casualty. I actually spent a long moment at the trash can considering how hard it would really be to wash it out before coming to my senses. That thing was trashed! We had to put Declan's pants and long sleeved shirt in a bag and Declan was left in just a onesie. Luckily we had his blanket so we were able to wrap him up, but, seeing as it was about 30 degrees in Kansas, it wasn't ideal.

Next, (it may have been the lack of warm clothes or the fact that it was already past his bed time, and that Declan is nothing if not punctual) Dec cried almost the whole flight into KC. I just cringed as he started up each time. Especially because we were on one of those little planes with just two seats on one side and one on the other. Then this guy behind us started farting. I think it was the same guy who was glaring at us, probably farting for revenge. Like he thought he could blame it on the baby.

We've been home and it's been a tough week. I can't imagine that anyone reading this doesn't know why. It was heart breaking for me that I was in Mexico for Megan's funeral. No amount of sun or fun could make that go away. And that's all I will say about that.

Since I'm not sure if I've bragged about how advanced Declan is lately, I'll give you a list of his most recent accomplishments:

1. Flushing the toilet.
2. Drinking from a straw.
3. The death pinch.
4. Fish face.
5. Lifting up the toilet lid and reaching inside.
6. Waving.
7. Eating toilet paper. Big chunks. Chew. Swallow.
8. Giving things to Mommy, Daddy, and Scooter.
9. Singing/humming/making high pitched noises while music is on.
10. Pooping in the bathtub during naked time in Mexico.

Genius.