that a baby whose socks are no bigger than my thumb has NOT lost a single sock in the dryer?
How is that possible????????????????????
Between us, Brandon and I lose probably a sock every 2 weeks in the dryer. And our socks, of course, are like a million times bigger than Max's socks. So, can someone explain how Max is not losing any socks?
Is there some magical sock fairy who watches over his socks when they are being dried?
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Saturday, September 29, 2007
What makes me a good dad...
I have clean-up duty. That's right. I clean up things. Often this involves fixing whatever mess Jennifer has made. For example, those stylin socks that she puts on Max--she puts them on wrong. Actually, she doesn't really put them on. They just cover his toes. So, I get to clean up and put them on right. I also fix his swaddle. That's been happening quite a bit lately because he likes to wiggle around and free his arms. He looks like he's trying to get out of a straight jacket. Sometimes I get to fix his diaper when the tabs look messed up or he ends up with a wedgie. Don't ask me how he gets a wedgie in his diaper. I'm also the one that gets to work the overalls. Jennifer usually just stares at them with a little question mark above her head.
In addition to those clean-up duties, I have the distinct pleasure of emptying the Diaper Genie. That's really fun. I am also the official sterilizer of the house. It is for these reasons that I am, in fact, a good father.
Thank you. Finis.
In addition to those clean-up duties, I have the distinct pleasure of emptying the Diaper Genie. That's really fun. I am also the official sterilizer of the house. It is for these reasons that I am, in fact, a good father.
Thank you. Finis.
Friday, September 28, 2007
What makes me a good mom....
I know that each person is her harshest critic, and I am constantly berating myself and calling myself a terrible mother. While I really don't think I am a terrible mother, I do wish there are some things I had done or could have happened differently.
First, I wish life were perfect and I was super rich and could work just part-time. I really don't want to ever be a stay-at-home mom (I'd go CRAZY), but I do think I could handle part-time. I could still be with Max more but also have a job to keep me busy. I am gone every day from 6:15 AM until 3:15 PM (and until 4:15 on Thursdays), and I really hate being away from Max for that long.
I also wish I had video-taped Max's birth. We have pictures, thanks to the doula, but I wish I had video. I didn't want video originally because I thought it would be gross, but now that the birth is over and done with, I wish I had a video to watch because I remember so little. I was so exhausted and just overwhelmed with emotion--there was so much to take in and I didn't have the energy to take it all in--that I don't really have that many memories of his birth. I just remember crying.
Perhaps the one thing I regret most is something I had absolutely no control over. I wish I had been able to hold Max as soon as he was born. Instead, because I had been in labor forever and had developed a fever and needed oxygen and all that good stuff, they had to thoroughly check Max out as soon as he was born. I didn't get to hold him for 30 minutes until after he was born, and the whole time, I just lay there and cried for my baby. There's all sorts of research about how vital those first few minutes of life are for a baby and his emotional connection with his parents, and I just hope I won't miss out because the doctors were working on him and me and I didn't get to hug and kiss him until much later.
But despite all that, I do have to give myself some kudos. Like I said, there are things I wish could have happened differently, but for all intents and purposes, I think I'm a pretty good mom.
I know how to hold him just right. No one else can get Max to sleep as fast as me. No one else knows how to hold just the way he likes it when he is really sleepy and needs help falling asleep.
No one else does paddycake the way Max and I do. We have our own special version that no one else knows (primarily because it changes every time we do it).
I'm not afraid to make an idiot of myself, especially when playing with Max.
If there's a cup of coffee to be had and Max is crying and I have to choose what to go to, I'd go to Max.
I read every pregnancy book there was and took such good care of myself while pregnant. Didn't even drink coffee (or at least caffeine), if you can believe that. Didn't color my hair, didn't have any alcohol, didn't get my heart rate above 140 bpm, didn't eat funky cheeses, didn't do anything that could possibly be detrimental to Max's development.
I really don't watch that much tv anymore. I can only think of 3 shows I watch (2 on Wednesday and one on Thursday). I don't want Max to watch tv, despite what the pictures lead you to think (we just took pics of him in his bumbo with the remote because we thought it was cute).
I know what sort of socks a male should wear, and I won't let him walk out of the house with inappropriate socks.
I have given Max at least one kiss (but really more like 100 kisses) every day since he was born. I kiss every morning before I leave and as soon as I pick him up when I come home in the afternoon.
I love Max more than I have ever loved anyone before.
That's all for now.
First, I wish life were perfect and I was super rich and could work just part-time. I really don't want to ever be a stay-at-home mom (I'd go CRAZY), but I do think I could handle part-time. I could still be with Max more but also have a job to keep me busy. I am gone every day from 6:15 AM until 3:15 PM (and until 4:15 on Thursdays), and I really hate being away from Max for that long.
I also wish I had video-taped Max's birth. We have pictures, thanks to the doula, but I wish I had video. I didn't want video originally because I thought it would be gross, but now that the birth is over and done with, I wish I had a video to watch because I remember so little. I was so exhausted and just overwhelmed with emotion--there was so much to take in and I didn't have the energy to take it all in--that I don't really have that many memories of his birth. I just remember crying.
Perhaps the one thing I regret most is something I had absolutely no control over. I wish I had been able to hold Max as soon as he was born. Instead, because I had been in labor forever and had developed a fever and needed oxygen and all that good stuff, they had to thoroughly check Max out as soon as he was born. I didn't get to hold him for 30 minutes until after he was born, and the whole time, I just lay there and cried for my baby. There's all sorts of research about how vital those first few minutes of life are for a baby and his emotional connection with his parents, and I just hope I won't miss out because the doctors were working on him and me and I didn't get to hug and kiss him until much later.
But despite all that, I do have to give myself some kudos. Like I said, there are things I wish could have happened differently, but for all intents and purposes, I think I'm a pretty good mom.
I know how to hold him just right. No one else can get Max to sleep as fast as me. No one else knows how to hold just the way he likes it when he is really sleepy and needs help falling asleep.
No one else does paddycake the way Max and I do. We have our own special version that no one else knows (primarily because it changes every time we do it).
I'm not afraid to make an idiot of myself, especially when playing with Max.
If there's a cup of coffee to be had and Max is crying and I have to choose what to go to, I'd go to Max.
I read every pregnancy book there was and took such good care of myself while pregnant. Didn't even drink coffee (or at least caffeine), if you can believe that. Didn't color my hair, didn't have any alcohol, didn't get my heart rate above 140 bpm, didn't eat funky cheeses, didn't do anything that could possibly be detrimental to Max's development.
I really don't watch that much tv anymore. I can only think of 3 shows I watch (2 on Wednesday and one on Thursday). I don't want Max to watch tv, despite what the pictures lead you to think (we just took pics of him in his bumbo with the remote because we thought it was cute).
I know what sort of socks a male should wear, and I won't let him walk out of the house with inappropriate socks.
I have given Max at least one kiss (but really more like 100 kisses) every day since he was born. I kiss every morning before I leave and as soon as I pick him up when I come home in the afternoon.
I love Max more than I have ever loved anyone before.
That's all for now.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Party like a rock star
Max is pooped.
My parents and my niece Hannah visited this weekend, and Max apparently wore himself out. He has been sound asleep since about 5:30 pm. Out like a light. Poor little booger was just partying like a rock star all weekend, and now he's got to catch up on his beauty sleep. He had lots and lots of cute smiles and squeals, and I guess that sucked all the energy from him. He also had lots of fun helping me lace my mom's coffee with sugar and lard and making her gain 3 pounds over the weekend. Such a momma's little helper.
My parents and my niece Hannah visited this weekend, and Max apparently wore himself out. He has been sound asleep since about 5:30 pm. Out like a light. Poor little booger was just partying like a rock star all weekend, and now he's got to catch up on his beauty sleep. He had lots and lots of cute smiles and squeals, and I guess that sucked all the energy from him. He also had lots of fun helping me lace my mom's coffee with sugar and lard and making her gain 3 pounds over the weekend. Such a momma's little helper.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Selflessness
My mother told me that once I had a baby, I would lose all sense of selfishness, that a baby is the one thing that can make any person completely selfless.
While I agree with her to a certain extent--I am always thinking about Max (even now while he sleeps in his crib, or when I am at school, or driving to work)--and I would do anything for him.
Even kill a cricket. Seriously. Anyone who knows me knows I would never intentionally hurt or kill a living creature, but a couple of days ago, there was a cricket jumping around in Max's room while I held him while trying to put him to sleep. I don't know why, but I just did not want a cricket in the room with my son, so I was getting ready to squish him when I realized I could just cover him up (the cricket, not Max) with a bowl and have Brandon dispose of him outside.
How did I get to the cricket again? Oh yeah--I would do anything for Max, which is an act of selflessness, right?. I want Max to be whatever he wants to be, to get whatever he wants to get, to experience all that there is to experience.
That is selfless.
But what is selfish, and arrogant, I suppose, is that I love seeing myself in Max. There is no better feeling in the world than to be holding him while he's sleeping and look down at him and just see myself.
While I agree with her to a certain extent--I am always thinking about Max (even now while he sleeps in his crib, or when I am at school, or driving to work)--and I would do anything for him.
Even kill a cricket. Seriously. Anyone who knows me knows I would never intentionally hurt or kill a living creature, but a couple of days ago, there was a cricket jumping around in Max's room while I held him while trying to put him to sleep. I don't know why, but I just did not want a cricket in the room with my son, so I was getting ready to squish him when I realized I could just cover him up (the cricket, not Max) with a bowl and have Brandon dispose of him outside.
How did I get to the cricket again? Oh yeah--I would do anything for Max, which is an act of selflessness, right?. I want Max to be whatever he wants to be, to get whatever he wants to get, to experience all that there is to experience.
That is selfless.
But what is selfish, and arrogant, I suppose, is that I love seeing myself in Max. There is no better feeling in the world than to be holding him while he's sleeping and look down at him and just see myself.
Max ridet (Max smiles)
Max is smiling A LOT lately. If he's awake when I leave in the morning to go to skooooooooool, he will usually give me at least half a dozen smiles and squeals. And then when we come home from the sitter's, he smiles again once we start goofing around. He's funny because most of the time when he smiles, he also laughs and squeals at the same time.
I really like it when he smiles and laughs in the morning before I leave. I hate leaving him in the morning, especially without even seeing him awake, so it is nice if he wakes up for a bit before I head off to brainwash, er, shape, the minds of youths.
It has been very hard for me to go to school in the mornings the past two weeks, even with those cute little smiles and squeals. There have been a couple of times where I have driven to work crying because I miss him already. I still need my job in order to be fully happy, but it is just hard to negotiate being a mother and a teacher. I know this is the same dilemma that every working mom goes through and it is not peculiar to me, but it is new to me, and I am trying to deal with it.
But for now, hopefully Max will continue to give me all sorts of smiles to help me get through that long and painful car ride every morning.
I really like it when he smiles and laughs in the morning before I leave. I hate leaving him in the morning, especially without even seeing him awake, so it is nice if he wakes up for a bit before I head off to brainwash, er, shape, the minds of youths.
It has been very hard for me to go to school in the mornings the past two weeks, even with those cute little smiles and squeals. There have been a couple of times where I have driven to work crying because I miss him already. I still need my job in order to be fully happy, but it is just hard to negotiate being a mother and a teacher. I know this is the same dilemma that every working mom goes through and it is not peculiar to me, but it is new to me, and I am trying to deal with it.
But for now, hopefully Max will continue to give me all sorts of smiles to help me get through that long and painful car ride every morning.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Scroll down and look at the man hands (and the really pretty hair)
I was looking at the older pictures on the blog, and I noticed that on the ones when Max was first born, my hands were MAN HANDS. Look at the size of those suckers. I was swollen for about a week after giving birth, too. I must have been a very pretty sight to look at, especially since in addition to having man-hands, my hair had not been combed for 24 hours.
Friday, September 14, 2007
My parents are so gullible...they fall for all my funny jokes.
Dad took me to the doctor yesterday. He said something about how I was being pretty fussy and wanted to make sure I wasn't sick. See, I have been playing this funny joke on my parents for a while now. A couple weeks ago I decided that it would be fun to pretend like I was teething. So, I started doing things like spitting out my bottle and crying and grabbing my ears and cheeks. Somehow, Mom thought of teething, and so Dad decided to feel my gums. He thought he felt something like a tooth and when he looked in my mouth, he saw this white thing. Now, I didn't plan on that but I took advantage of it and milked it for all it was worth. My parents thought I was teething and my plan was coming together. Anyway, eventually that white thing disappeared and Dad noticed. He thought he was going crazy. Silly Dad. There was never a tooth there. Hee-hee.
Once they discovered that my "tooth" had disappeared, I had to do more to convince them that I was teething. So I started to be fussy again and shove the bottle away and scream when they tried to feed me. I also started shoving my hands in my mouth and chewing on them. They actually taste pretty good. Anyway, my silly parents kept wondering what my deal was, and so Dad took me to see the doctor to find out if I really was teething or if I had an ear infection or something.
This could ruin my plan. So when we got there, I decided to start crying, hoping Dad would just turn around and go home. Didn't work. He just picked me up, and since I like it when he does that, I stopped crying. We got into the room and some nurse person weighed me. 13 lbs 15 oz. she said. I don't know what that means, but I guess everyone was happy with it. Then she put me on this table where there was a mirror and lots of stickers for me to look at. I liked all those stickers. They were pretty cool. I was quite mesmerized, actually. Then I remembered that these medical people could ruin my funny joke. So, I decided I would try to signal to this nurse lady that I was trying to trick Dad into thinking I was teething, so I shoved my hands in my mouth and started to chomp on them. I don't think she got my hint because she said something about a "rectal temperature" and took out this weird looking stick. I'm not sure what was happening, but I decided to play cool and just stare at the mirror and chew on my hands. I figured I needed to remind everyone I was supposed to be there about my teeth, not my butt. Silly nurse. When that was done, the nurse lady left and the doctor came in. She was just as silly. She kept putting this thing on my chest and feeling my stomach. Then she stuck this thing in my ears. She told Dad that I wasn't sick. I just kept chewing on my hands, hoping she would take the hint. Finally, she decided to look in my mouth and feel around. She obviously didn't get the hint, either, because she told Dad that she didn't think I was really teething. Then she told him exactly what a tooth coming in looks like. Now, why'd she have to do that? Now my parents know that there's really nothing wrong with me and I have been playing this funny joke on them the whole time. They're so gullible.
I have lots of funny jokes in store for them.........
Once they discovered that my "tooth" had disappeared, I had to do more to convince them that I was teething. So I started to be fussy again and shove the bottle away and scream when they tried to feed me. I also started shoving my hands in my mouth and chewing on them. They actually taste pretty good. Anyway, my silly parents kept wondering what my deal was, and so Dad took me to see the doctor to find out if I really was teething or if I had an ear infection or something.
This could ruin my plan. So when we got there, I decided to start crying, hoping Dad would just turn around and go home. Didn't work. He just picked me up, and since I like it when he does that, I stopped crying. We got into the room and some nurse person weighed me. 13 lbs 15 oz. she said. I don't know what that means, but I guess everyone was happy with it. Then she put me on this table where there was a mirror and lots of stickers for me to look at. I liked all those stickers. They were pretty cool. I was quite mesmerized, actually. Then I remembered that these medical people could ruin my funny joke. So, I decided I would try to signal to this nurse lady that I was trying to trick Dad into thinking I was teething, so I shoved my hands in my mouth and started to chomp on them. I don't think she got my hint because she said something about a "rectal temperature" and took out this weird looking stick. I'm not sure what was happening, but I decided to play cool and just stare at the mirror and chew on my hands. I figured I needed to remind everyone I was supposed to be there about my teeth, not my butt. Silly nurse. When that was done, the nurse lady left and the doctor came in. She was just as silly. She kept putting this thing on my chest and feeling my stomach. Then she stuck this thing in my ears. She told Dad that I wasn't sick. I just kept chewing on my hands, hoping she would take the hint. Finally, she decided to look in my mouth and feel around. She obviously didn't get the hint, either, because she told Dad that she didn't think I was really teething. Then she told him exactly what a tooth coming in looks like. Now, why'd she have to do that? Now my parents know that there's really nothing wrong with me and I have been playing this funny joke on them the whole time. They're so gullible.
I have lots of funny jokes in store for them.........
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Who or whom
As a certified English teacher with a BA in English and Classics and as a former English teacher whose sole joy in life was to correct grammatically inept students, I am now at a loss.
I pride myself in being able to correctly use most any English word, particularly those words that most everyone else mis-uses. Who and whom are among those most commonly mis-used words.
Who is used if the clause in question is using "who" as a subject form. For example: I hate the dog who ate my homework. "ate my homework" needs a subject and homework is the object, so we would use who as the subjective form.
Whom is used if the clause is using it as an object. For example: The dog, whom I hate, got a biscuit. "I hate" already has a subject and verb, and the thing being hated is the dog, the object.
Have I lost you yet? (Yes, says Brandon)
Now, in the case of "Who does Max most look like": I believe I have phrased it properly because "look" and "look like" is an intransitive verb, meaning it does NOT take an object. If it took an object, we would use the objective form of the pronoun, which would be "whom." But since I am pretty dang sure it is intransitive and does not take an object, we still need to use "who."
The end.
Brandon says: When Jennifer first posed the question to me "who or whom", my response was "Who gives a @$#%!?" Did I use "who" correctly? I believe so, since "who" in this instance is used as a subject and... oh, forget it.
I pride myself in being able to correctly use most any English word, particularly those words that most everyone else mis-uses. Who and whom are among those most commonly mis-used words.
Who is used if the clause in question is using "who" as a subject form. For example: I hate the dog who ate my homework. "ate my homework" needs a subject and homework is the object, so we would use who as the subjective form.
Whom is used if the clause is using it as an object. For example: The dog, whom I hate, got a biscuit. "I hate" already has a subject and verb, and the thing being hated is the dog, the object.
Have I lost you yet? (Yes, says Brandon)
Now, in the case of "Who does Max most look like": I believe I have phrased it properly because "look" and "look like" is an intransitive verb, meaning it does NOT take an object. If it took an object, we would use the objective form of the pronoun, which would be "whom." But since I am pretty dang sure it is intransitive and does not take an object, we still need to use "who."
The end.
Brandon says: When Jennifer first posed the question to me "who or whom", my response was "Who gives a @$#%!?" Did I use "who" correctly? I believe so, since "who" in this instance is used as a subject and... oh, forget it.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
I'll always remember these emails--the day my water broke and the day before Max was born.
I have kept my car full of gas all week and will do so again next week. wont leave the house without cell phone either, although cant have it on me at work. i am ready for the fat boy. love, m
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> From: ice_jennifer@hotmail.com
> To: icetj1@hotmail.com
> Subject: RE: this weekend
> Date: Fri, 22 Jun 2007 19:14:12 -0500
>
> why don't you tell him because he does not listen to me. i am so huge and
> uncomfortable. he's got no room in there, so i don't know why he insists on
> staying in there. must be stupid or something. it's gotten to the point
> where i don't even want to walk the dogs because i am sick of everyone
> looking at me and asking me when i am due. i am not walking them tonight.
> guess i'll just get on the treadmill some more or something. i reallty pray
> he comes comethis weekend OR the doc decides to induce me next week. love,
> jennifer
>
> >From: TJ Ice
> >To: Jennifer Ice
> >Subject: this weekend
> >Date: Fri, 22 Jun 2007 23:38:47 +0000
> >
> >i wonder if you could relay a message to max for me? Could you tell him
> >that it would be so much easier on his grandparents if he arrived tomorrow,
> >preferably before the vet closes at noon. Thanks. Love, m
>
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> From: ice_jennifer@hotmail.com
> To: icetj1@hotmail.com
> Subject: RE: this weekend
> Date: Fri, 22 Jun 2007 19:14:12 -0500
>
> why don't you tell him because he does not listen to me. i am so huge and
> uncomfortable. he's got no room in there, so i don't know why he insists on
> staying in there. must be stupid or something. it's gotten to the point
> where i don't even want to walk the dogs because i am sick of everyone
> looking at me and asking me when i am due. i am not walking them tonight.
> guess i'll just get on the treadmill some more or something. i reallty pray
> he comes comethis weekend OR the doc decides to induce me next week. love,
> jennifer
>
> >From: TJ Ice
> >To: Jennifer Ice
> >Subject: this weekend
> >Date: Fri, 22 Jun 2007 23:38:47 +0000
> >
> >i wonder if you could relay a message to max for me? Could you tell him
> >that it would be so much easier on his grandparents if he arrived tomorrow,
> >preferably before the vet closes at noon. Thanks. Love, m
>
By the way, Mom is famous
I have been asked to make a video of me teaching for others to watch and learn. I wonder who I'll get to style my hair?????
Max: A Portrait At Almost-But-Not-Quite 3 Months
Weight: 53 pounds (probably really about 14)
Length: 12 inches (probably really about 24 inches)
Clothing size: 3-6 months
Eye color: Brown
Hair color: what hair?
Looks just like: Mom
Bedtime: anywhere between 7-9 pm. Currently sleeps in the bassinet at night, but we will be making the switch to the crib next week.
Gets up at: anywhere between 6:30-7:30 am
Been sleeping through the night: for about 2-3 weeks now. He will occasionally get up around 2-4 am for a snack, but that's after about 8 hours of sleeping. Really depends on when his last feeding was before he falls to sleep for the night.
Eats: during the day, about every 2-4 hours (anywhere between 2-6 oz per feeding)
Favorite food: milk
Food he cannot wait to eat: popcorn. At least that's what he loved when I was pregnant with him.
Skills: can hold head and neck upright (pretty much has total control and he's a show-off, too), can majorly focus on pretty much anything, holds hands together as if plotting destruction of the world, smiles, laughs, coos, talks to God, excellent dancing ability, regularly flips people off
Potential thing we can exploit on the Maury Povich Show: his massive umbilical hernia (his outtie)
Hobbies: talking to God, staring and smiling at blank walls, boogie-ing, sitting in the bouncie, staring at the beautiful butterflies on the mobile, being licked by the dogs, going for strolls with mom, dad, and the dogs, walking around the house, staring at the mirror, making big poopies
Things he dislikes: tummy time. I swear this kid will never learn how to crawl because he hates tummy time so much. We can only get in about 2 minutes before all hell breaks loose.
Favorite dog: Lucy
Favorite dog to harass: Shelley. He likes to burp and not let her get the milk that dribbles from his mouth.
Dog that loves Max the most: Pippi. She is giving him free spa treatments.
Favorite thing he is looking forward to: wearing his corrective helmet
Favorite tv show: America's Next Top Model, The Fashionista Diaries
Favorite books: Paris Hilton's "Confessions of an Heiress;" "Everyone Poops"
Favorite sport: shopping
He's a big wimp because: he has to be swaddled (still!) before going to bed, and sometimes when feeding; loves beautiful butterflies; and America's Next Top Model
The thing that's going to embarrass him the most when he's older: his parents call his pacifier a, well, let's just put it this way--it rhymes with "kitty."
Length: 12 inches (probably really about 24 inches)
Clothing size: 3-6 months
Eye color: Brown
Hair color: what hair?
Looks just like: Mom
Bedtime: anywhere between 7-9 pm. Currently sleeps in the bassinet at night, but we will be making the switch to the crib next week.
Gets up at: anywhere between 6:30-7:30 am
Been sleeping through the night: for about 2-3 weeks now. He will occasionally get up around 2-4 am for a snack, but that's after about 8 hours of sleeping. Really depends on when his last feeding was before he falls to sleep for the night.
Eats: during the day, about every 2-4 hours (anywhere between 2-6 oz per feeding)
Favorite food: milk
Food he cannot wait to eat: popcorn. At least that's what he loved when I was pregnant with him.
Skills: can hold head and neck upright (pretty much has total control and he's a show-off, too), can majorly focus on pretty much anything, holds hands together as if plotting destruction of the world, smiles, laughs, coos, talks to God, excellent dancing ability, regularly flips people off
Potential thing we can exploit on the Maury Povich Show: his massive umbilical hernia (his outtie)
Hobbies: talking to God, staring and smiling at blank walls, boogie-ing, sitting in the bouncie, staring at the beautiful butterflies on the mobile, being licked by the dogs, going for strolls with mom, dad, and the dogs, walking around the house, staring at the mirror, making big poopies
Things he dislikes: tummy time. I swear this kid will never learn how to crawl because he hates tummy time so much. We can only get in about 2 minutes before all hell breaks loose.
Favorite dog: Lucy
Favorite dog to harass: Shelley. He likes to burp and not let her get the milk that dribbles from his mouth.
Dog that loves Max the most: Pippi. She is giving him free spa treatments.
Favorite thing he is looking forward to: wearing his corrective helmet
Favorite tv show: America's Next Top Model, The Fashionista Diaries
Favorite books: Paris Hilton's "Confessions of an Heiress;" "Everyone Poops"
Favorite sport: shopping
He's a big wimp because: he has to be swaddled (still!) before going to bed, and sometimes when feeding; loves beautiful butterflies; and America's Next Top Model
The thing that's going to embarrass him the most when he's older: his parents call his pacifier a, well, let's just put it this way--it rhymes with "kitty."
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Happy birthday Brandon and Kelly
10 years ago to this day I met Brandon. I only stoppped by to say "Happy Birthday" because there was a sign on his door that said the same thing and it was my sister's birthday, so I thought, "What the heck."
Happy birthday.
Love, Jennifer
Happy birthday.
Love, Jennifer
Monday, September 3, 2007
Who the heck voted "idiot"?!!!
While I am all for anonymity with regard to voting, uh, who the heck voted "idiot"?! Obviously someone who THINKS he's (or she??! could it be??) a comic genius.
Speak now, comic genius, and make your presence known.
On a lighter note, Max's day was much better today. He has eaten 25 ounces so far, about 5 ounces more than he has this past week, and just a few ounces shy of where he was before this whole teething thing happened. We plucked his first chest hair this morning, so that might have something to do with it.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, very funny, Jen.
Almost as funny as the MYSTERIOUS COMIC GENIUS.
Mr. B says: I pity da foo that vote "complete idiot"!
Speak now, comic genius, and make your presence known.
On a lighter note, Max's day was much better today. He has eaten 25 ounces so far, about 5 ounces more than he has this past week, and just a few ounces shy of where he was before this whole teething thing happened. We plucked his first chest hair this morning, so that might have something to do with it.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, very funny, Jen.
Almost as funny as the MYSTERIOUS COMIC GENIUS.
Mr. B says: I pity da foo that vote "complete idiot"!
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Just call me Mr. Maturity
Max is teething.
Seriously. He is 10 weeks old and already his first tooth is starting to come in. You can see and feel it, and he is not a happy camper. This, along with his alertness during the day, is probably what has been causing the fussiness I was describing in yesterday's post.
Poor little buddy. He's not eating nearly as much as he used to, about 5 ounces less a day, and that's what started to worry me, so I was doing research on what the problem could be. I read about teething, and sure 'nuf, that's what the problem is. We opened up his little mouth and felt around and Brandon felt a little spot poking out. We then looked inside and both of us saw a little tooth right where Brandon had felt it.
Our poor little buddy is not very happy and he is growing up at an alarming rate. At the rate he's going, by next week he'll be crawling, then walking, and soon he'll be driving.
Seriously. He is 10 weeks old and already his first tooth is starting to come in. You can see and feel it, and he is not a happy camper. This, along with his alertness during the day, is probably what has been causing the fussiness I was describing in yesterday's post.
Poor little buddy. He's not eating nearly as much as he used to, about 5 ounces less a day, and that's what started to worry me, so I was doing research on what the problem could be. I read about teething, and sure 'nuf, that's what the problem is. We opened up his little mouth and felt around and Brandon felt a little spot poking out. We then looked inside and both of us saw a little tooth right where Brandon had felt it.
Our poor little buddy is not very happy and he is growing up at an alarming rate. At the rate he's going, by next week he'll be crawling, then walking, and soon he'll be driving.
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