Posts Tagged ‘growing right before my eyes’
so what if he’s manorexic, weighs less than 25 lbs and needs his 18 mo pants rolled to keep them from falling to his ankles
clothing is overrated anyways and too expensive.
who needs clothes?
the weather is warming up. you’re goina sweat after playing outside with your kid(s) and then proceed to go pant-less once inside your home, just like your kid(s).
if you’re like me, you’ll break out the maxi-dresses (i hate that term as it makes me think of kotex) from 2 seasons ago and wear those simply to avoid a waistband.
but my son… he’s goina be 2 in a few weeks. he has to wear pants, shorts now.
nothing fits him.
he’s manorexic.
now before you go all hate mail crazy on me, let it be known that i had and still have friends who battle anorexia and bulimia and referring to my nearly 2 year old son as manorexic is said in jest. if you take offense to that, you obviously have no sense of humor and can close your browser now. thanks for stopping by.
once upon a time jackson’s inability to put on weight was a BIG problem, one that led us to hospitalizing him twice and feeding him via NG tube for 8 weeks.
and now… he eats fine. do i wish he ate more? sure. but i’m not about to have my husband shove another 8 fringe tube up his nose and down his throat in order to force feed him.
so he snacks. a lot.
i snack… a lot… which is probably why i avoid clothing with waist bands and stick with maxi-dresses (ugh! whoever coined that term needs to be covered in wet cement and tampons.)
my manorexic son is NEVER still. not even in his sleep.
he is always moving, always burning calories.
infact, at this very moment, he is trying to take his pjs off and put his sneakers on while chanting “owside. play?” repeatedly.
so… we’re goina go burn some calories.
even though he refused to eat any breakfast and has no calories to burn.
ok, i gotta go roll his 18 month old shorts so they don’t fall to his ankles.
or maybe i’ll just take him out there pant-less.
perhaps the world would be a happier place if we could all go sans pants.
well this sucks
what follows is the evolution of jackson’s current state of baldness… and yes, it’s all my fault, as i was a hair-twirler and puller-outer in my younger years and apparently so is my son.
dammit.
so much for my hippie child. good thing his birthday is on earth day and we can still rock our barefoot hippie magic together on the 22nd… WHEN HE TURNS 2.
what happened????
suggle?
jackson talks incessantly. i’m grateful because i can see and experience him seeing and experiencing, taking everything in and reporting back.
“i’m ok? i fine.”
“phone. call. pops? mahdaddy?”
“cakes. pan cakes. LIKE cakes!!!”
“crying… CRYING… CRYING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
“dog.”
“TWO dog.”
“all done.”
“yuckies. mom YUCKIES!!!” (tugs at diaper)
“no potty. bath???”
“PLAAAAAAAANE.”
“windy.”
“rain? sun. bright sun.”
“swing. wee. slide.”
“play play play outside.”
“rocks. no throw.”
“dirt. stick. play.”
“baketbawl.”
“soccahbawl.”
“birdie…. CAWWWW!!!!”
“ride? ride? car? NOM NOMS.”
“juice. more juice. more peeeeeeeeas.”
“horn. cow.”
“se-a-me. elmo. ernie. big bird. BIIIIIIIIG bird.”
“moo cow. MOOOOOOOOOOOOO cow.”
“eledents. BIIIIIIIIIG eledents.” (elephant noise)
“i’m ok. i’m ok.”
“mommy up. mommy down. no down.”
“mess.”
“OH NO mess.”
“treat? prize? monkey?” (monkey noise)
“moose. BIIIIIIG moose.”
“foobawl.”
“fubble foobawl.”
“books. frog books. green frogs. jump.”
“suggle??? mom… suggle??? mommy… suggle???”
*heart melts*
“yes baby, let’s go suggle.”
then we lay on the rug in his bedroom and my son crawls and jumps all over me. it’s not exactly “snuggling,” but it works for us.
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!!!!!!!
shit
i found jackson post afternoon nap, climbing like a spider monkey out of his crib. like this…

WOO!!!
after calling my husband and my mother, i went to the twittersphere… some said “go to a toddler bed,” others suggested this tent-type thing to place over the crib, and others suggested just going to a regular bed. all opinions and insights were so welcomed because jackson scared THE SHIT out of me… like THE SHIT.
so paul gets home from work and i bombard him with all of this. he asks me if this transition is something that needs to take place “like tonight?” and i respond with “YES!!!” so we remember where the transitional crib/toddler bed rail is that came with his crib. we find the instructions, gather the tools, etc…
in the midst of all of this, many other moms of toddlers have now asked me about this or are in the midst of this dilemma themselves… so i promised photos… here’s what i have so far. both paul and jackson are in the midst of creating crib-gone-toddler-bed as i upload photos and write this post…

ooops!!! wrong one... try again...

there we go... game on!!!

DUDE, I AM SO OUTTA HERE!!!

so, again... what once was...

is now becoming...

toddler rail to replace crib rail

checkin it out...

tasting the rail, wondering if it's as NOM NOM as the last...

and we're in!!!!!!!!!

forget this... i'm outta here... AGAIN!!!
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shit.
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advice, ideas, tips for keeping one’s sanity (that may already be lost)… all are welcome!!!
ps- jackson’s crib is from target by DaVinci, incase you’re wondering.
pps- target did not pay me to write the above statement.
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*UPDATE* we survived with the magoo staying in his big boy bed all night long. we kept his nighttime routine the same as it was when he was in his crib, and we didn’t hear a peep out of him until we let the dog loose at 7:15 this morning. that’s when jackson got out of his bed and began scratching at the door.
i have placed duct tape over the lock on his side of the door knob in his room until paul and i figure out what contraption we’ll get to cover the door knob. my worst fear would be the magoo accidentally locking himself in his room… TRAUMA for EVERYONE. yikes, we don’t need that. me thinks a trip to babies r us for kiddie proof gear plus dinner OUT is in order for us this evening.
it’ll be interesting to see how nap time goes today… we have shades drawn and dark curtains pulled shut in his room to make it as dark as possible… but still, it’s nap time not nahnight time. paul left for work today, encouraging me to stay strong and if i hear him just playing in there, to keep him in there til his normal wake up time.
wish me luck!!!


































