it’s not that i hate old people, just stupid old people with big cadillacs and canes
i’m a strategist when it comes to parking lots. when galavanting around this lovely town of annapolis in my itty bitty VW hatchback (complete with “peace and love” bumper sticker), i park with an agenda.
my car becomes a puzzle piece and it must fit juuuuuuuuust right.
when turning into a grocery store parking lot, i always find a spot near the grocery cart puter-awayer if not directly next to it. this way i can get the magoo settled in the car, load my loot in the car and then pop my cart over in the puter-awayer within a super short amount of time.
it’s quite remarkable actually, and i do commend my own timeliness.
when driving into a mall parking lot, i hunt for a parking spot that does not have another vehicle next to it. this way i can flip out the magoo’s stroller, plop magoo in said stroller, snag the diaper bag and any items i may be returning with maximum space around me and not fearing that i will scratch anyone else’s automobile.
when driving to a restaurant… lately this has just been to panera as panera is currently the meca for all parents during lunch time, i park next to a garbage can. this is because, like my husband, i too carry my beverage (let’s just say a sierra mist) to my car for a few final sips… but unlike my husband, i do not like beverages in my car. the spill factor is too much for me to handle when driving while jackson is throwing toys for me to pick up and give back to him. so i get my final few sips in and then toss my beverage in the trash can instead of leaving it on the ground next to the wheel of someone else’s car.
point being, i park with a purpose.
today, post-panera-lunching with jackson, we scoot through the parking lot to drop off a prescription to be filled (since i saw my doc yesterday and am addressing my grief and awesome anxiety). since i had no groceries to purchase, i did NOT park with my typical intentions and therefore parked like every other non-wackadoo human being on the face of the planet.
i parked wherever there was an empty spot.
it is when i am bent over 1/2 in the backseat of my car, one leg in the car and one leg out of the car, unbuckling the magoo from his car seat that this elderly woman CLOSES MY CAR DOOR ON MY LEG.
“excuse me,” i said to her as she attempted to squeeze in between my now nearly closed car door and her diagonally parked cadillac.
she says nothing.
dressed in what looks to be her sunday best for a trip to the grocery store, cranberry colored winter coat to match her cranberry colored prescription sunglasses and cranberry colored cane, it dawns on me that she did not hear me.
so i repeat myself…
“EXCUSE ME,” i said again still with my car door closed on my leg.
she acknowledges me, “i’m just trying to get by, kiddo,” she says.
KIDDO?!?!?
now i’m mad. she finds her way to the end of her cadillac and goes along, most likely NOT expecting me to talk back to my elders.
WRONG!!!
“excuse me,” i said for the third time. “could you not have waited the 45 seconds it takes for me to get my KIDDO out of his car seat before CLOSING MY CAR DOOR ON MY LEG?!?”
with the magoo now out of the car and on my hip, the elderly woman glares at me and says, “well aren’t you a little young and sassy to have a child of your own?”
my jaw drops and she walks away.
UGH!!! YEAH LADY, I’M ALSO YOUNG AND SASSY ENOUGH TO LEAVE A DIRTY DIAPER ON YOUR SWEET BOAT OF A CADDY TOO.
slooooow down, no need for the sex talk yet…
the magoo is not even 2 years old.
say it with me, THE MAGOO IS NOT EVEN 2 YEARS OLD.
this is incredibly easy for one to forget. jackson is a bruiser of a kid. he beats up on his 85 lb dog, scales furniture to the point of reaching windows, and makes forts underneath our dining room table because he likes to “be hiding.”
he is unbelievably verbal, already producing short phrases like “i got it” and “help me mommy.” his favorite word to say right now is “elephant,” a 3 syllable word that is actually recognizable when you hear him say it.
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side note: just now, the three of us were sitting on the couch when paul snagged a booger out of jackson’s nose and went to wipe it on my arm as i typed this post.
i threw my hands in the air and said, “DUDE, YOU CAN PUT THE BOOG ON MY SHIRT BUT NOT ON MY ARM.”
jackson climbed out of paul’s lap, turned around at both of us and exclaimed, “DUDE!”
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i don’t list out these stats to boast that my child is better and more brilliant than anyone else’s. i already know that.
i list out these stats as a reminder to myself that jackson is still so young. he is not even 21 months yet… 4 more days. he will be 2 in april.
the changes in our son occur so fast and furiously, whether it’s a physical change, leaving us begging his grandparents to ship us larger clothes so that we don’t have to buy them ourselves, or the magoo shocking us with his brilliance, saying “DUDE!”
so perhaps it will come as no surprise to you readers to hear that jackson’s big boy bed is now my nemesis. correction: it’s not so much the bed itself that i loathe, it’s the entire sleeping process that is now on day 7 of SUCKING. it’s the up and down and screaming and banging and unwillingness to get back in bed no matter how exhausted this stubborn child is.
dude, it’s not cool.
i am stronger when paul is around, keeping me from going in and rescuing my son from his torture chamber of a bedroom. given the abundance of diverse feedback i received last week, he and i had a lot to discuss and a lot to experiment with over the long weekend. in fact, we’re still experimenting… because we’re still losing this battle.
we listened to jackson scream and bang on his bedroom door for over an hour last night. the door knob contraption had been removed… a baby gate was put in place outside of his bedroom door. he banged and screamed and scratched and yelled for “DADDDDDYYYYYYYYY” for over an hour. i had to ask paul to turn the volume up on the tv in an attempt to distract myself with the golden globes (and a lot of wine) because it was so painful to listen to. and mind you, i’ve been listening to this for a week.
at 10:30 last night, i went in to check on jackson. opening the door super slowly just incase he had fallen asleep on the floor next to it, i entered his dimly lit room. toys and soft book were on the floor, covering his carpet. i walked over to his bed, found his blankets bunched up.. but found no magoo underneath the blankets or in his bed.
jackson had instead climbed up into the glider and was asleep on his back, legs bent like a frog, in the chair that his dad and i rock him to sleep in every day and night.
my heart sank. he was searching for comfort and i hadn’t provided him with that.
and so this morning, i sit on the couch, sip my coffee, listen to the magoo play with his daddy and sip his milk.
he’s still so young.
so… where does this leave us in terms of our magoo bedroom drama???
hell if i know.
currently we are discussing the option of “regressing” and putting his crib rail back up. perhaps our not-even-2-year-old is not yet ready for the independence a big boy bed provides.
perhaps the college applications need to be put back in the drawer for a while.
perhaps he is still my baby.
dude.
like jail but with door knobs
with jackson now in his big boy bed, we put these suckers on the door knobs…
behold the Safety 1st Twist & Grip Knob Cover a la Babies R Us. we have used 1 out of the 3 pack and it is currently residing on the inside door knob of jackson’s bedroom. he is most definitely tall enough to manipulate and open a door. and tonight was the first time this torturous contraption served its purpose.
yesterday morning, paul found jackson awake and out of his bed, waiting for him at his bedroom door. paul was greeted with the sweet sound of “DADDY!!!!!!!!” and all was well with the world.
this afternoon, when jackson woke up from his nap, he awoke 20 minutes earlier than normal. so, like any other conflicted mother would do, i left him in there. i listened to him whine and “mom… mommmmmm…. MOM…. MOM. ALL. DONE.” but i stayed strong. and when i finally went in there, my magoo met me at the door that he had been shaking and knocking on for 20 minutes while calling out my name.
and then tonight happened.
paul had taken the dog out to do his biznass. jackson had already been put down for bed, and as i tip-toed in our bedroom to put on my feeties to settle in for an evening on the couch with paul, i hear jackson’s bedroom door shake.
then i hear him knock.
then i hear “mom. MOM. MOMMMMMY.”
so i go in. again, he meets me at the door. i lift him up. his head rests on my shoulder. his body is a dishrag. he begins breathing deep. i sit in the glider, snuggling my magoo. i take in the scent of his hair, his baby sweat in his fleece sleeper pjs. and when i feel our breathing begin to synchronize, i lift myself and my son out of the glider and rock him over to his bed.
i lay him down. i position his blankey. i wait.
he’s out.
i softly leave the room. paul returns with the dog. we settle on the couch to watch the tube.
5-10 minutes pass and then i hear the shake. paul doesn’t recognize it at first, but i know what it is. he mutes the tv and comments that he thinks it’s our downstairs neighbors, who sound like a stampeding herd of wild moose on a daily basis.
then comes the whines. the cries. the banging on the door.
the tears. his and mine.
paul and i debate on the couch for minutes while the noise continues.
do we let him just deal with the possibility of knowing he will sleep on the floor next to his bedroom door all night?
do we go in and pacify?
eventually jackson’s cry gets to the point where we realize that he is scared, truly scared of something. paul goes in and finds jackson over at his book shelf, where his sound machine is. apparently jackson had gotten out of his bed, pressed one of the buttons on his sound machine and upon hearing a sound different from the peaceful falling rain, he scared himself.
so paul calmed our son, put him back to sleep, and i sit with a heavy heart… feeling guilty for not consoling my son.
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are you a ferberizing parent? do you put the ear plugs in and let your child cry it out? do you pacify? do you have a method? why the hell am i still asking these questions when i have a child on the brink of turning 2? UGH!!!!!!!
anxiety angst
i’m goina go out on a limb here and just say it flat out… i’m struggling. BIG TIME. the aftermath of loss, grieving, shock, denial, confusion… it’s sent my anxiety through the goddamn roof.
i want so badly to continue on with my life here. i was hoping to get some sense of normalcy once coming home and getting back into a routine with the magoo. instead, i find myself experiencing multiple panic attacks a day and battling insomnia.
i know healing takes time. i’ve grieved before.
but i have never grieved as a parent before.
and grieving the loss of a child, an 18 year old girl, has hit me like a brick wall. i did not just grieve for my former roommate last week when we buried her sister. i did not just grieve as a friend.
i grieved with her mother, for her mother… because now i am a mother.
certain parts of the beautiful eulogy from the memorial service resonated with me differently than it did with others who are not yet parents. and certain parts of her death have been more difficult to accept because i am a parent.
i read a post a few days ago from heather armstrong of dooce.com and found myself nodding my head because as she described her panic attack, i knew EXACTLY what she was talking about.
i experienced it just this morning. the shortness of breath, the tingling limbs, wondering if i go to the ER or not. and it sucks. i don’t want to be feeling the way that i’m feeling right now. i would love to close my mind off to certain things and not think about other things and watch tv at night with paul and just enjoy a show without my mind racing a million miles a minute. i would love to sleep.
but i’m struggling right now. so i’m going to my doctor in 2 weeks and figuring out how to start climbing this hurdle.
and today, i’m going to get a massage.
i shot guns and stuff
crap. i owe this blog a serious update of massive proportions.
but it’s not going to happen today. i’d like for it to happen today, but i just don’t have it in me.
after 2 weeks of being gone and sleeping in more locations than i can remember, crying way more than an obscene amount, and then returning home… i find myself depleted in every way.
this last week has sucked in ways that have taken a toll on me mentally, emotionally and physically. i wasn’t prepared for any of this, but neither was my dear college roommate, em, who lost her sister at 18 and is now being the rock for her grieving family to rest on.
em- i love you so much and i am always here for you.
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so yeah, the holiday was good. jackson was spoiled rotten. his loot of gifts had to be shipped back home because there was too much to fit in our luggage.
paul and my father-in-law taught me how to shoot a gun, which i swore to myself i would never do. i’ll most likely never do it again, but had my own reasons for learning and accomplished my goal. hell, i even shot a tin bowling pin target thingy down. entirely by accident… but still.
the holiday is kind of this whirlwind that’s in the back of my mind.
did it really happen?
holidays with a child who has both sets of grandparents in the same city is both a blessing and a curse. you (the primary caregiver) bring your “work” with you over the holidays and it’s never as relaxing as you may have hoped. at least it’s not for me. it was wonderful to have 4 loving grandparents and 2 uncles to occupy jackson, babysit and dote on him for two solid weeks. however, now i am at home with a tantrum-driven, (nearly) 21 month old who has been given everything he has asked for… and sometimes i say “no.”
so between the crocodile tears and pretzel throwing and door banging, i wonder where the hell the holiday went.
and new years… when did it become 2010?
new years eve was spent with one of my six former roommates on night-duty over em and her parents after we buried her sister that morning.
i’ll never forget rubbing em’s mom’s feet with vick’s vapo-rub and placing warm socks on her in an attempt to get her to relax enough to sleep a few hours.
i’ll never forget it because i was exactly where i was supposed to be.
em- i love you so much and i’m always here for you.
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i have a ton of family pictures to share. a lot of great stories. but for now this post will have to do, because i really need a nap.
ps- thanks to all of you who have sent such loving comments, facebook messages, tweets and emails. the comments on each of my posts close after 5 days, so for those of you who emailed me because you couldn’t comment the last few days, i thank you for your persistence and kindness.
Have a Sip
