Teeth!

Johnny is at an age that I love...and an age that I hate. He's developed a sweet but goofy personality and is catching on that he can get a laugh when he does certain things (such as "winking"). I love watching him explore is world. He's non-stop busy and into everything, but we've baby-proofed pretty well so he doesn't hear too many "no's" or "uh uh uh's". I actually like to let him show me what I need to move by following him around and seeing what catches his eye that either he could wreck or could wreck him. Of course, the first thing he went for was an electrical outlet followed by Henry's books. He's got what we've deemed his first word which makes me nervous: "uh, oh." He says it in his "bear" voice - a sort of gruff thing he does. Of course, having to grow up with the nickname Blue Bear (based on his infant snowsuit) which evolved into Johnny Bear and sometimes just Bear, he was bound to start growling at us.

The hard part about this age and the next couple of years, is that kids develop their own ideas about what they want to do and it's hard to convince them otherwise. Obviously, at John's age, it's simply the fact that he doesn't know what all that noise coming out of our mouths is supposed to mean. "Daddy blah blah blah blah, blah blah eat. Blah's Henry? Blah, blah, blah. Willie, no!" But, we've already begun the transition to the battle of wills stage. "I know you don't want me to chew on this here rug, but, you see, there's these string thingies hanging on the ends and I just need to put them in my mouth. There is nothing you can do to that will make me change my mind and if you try, I will get very pissed." Granted, that battle will probably go on until he's at least 25 years old, but at least there will come a time when he'll grasp some (hopefully most) logic. For example, he'll eventually understand that, "please don't eat the icky door mat" means "Seriously, dude - we put our shoes on that thing - gross!" But for now, we just say "Uh, uh - icky!" and move him back to his toys.

Sometimes, it's hard to follow the Dr. Sears book of child discipline and use everything as a positive learning tool, like when he decides to see what happens when he uses his shark-sharp chompers on my nipple. He's got two on the bottom and four on top now. And they are like knives. Last Friday morning, he bit down hard and then raked them off. I howled in pain and may have yelled "NO BITING - HURTS MOMMY!" Yeah, I overreacted. Out came the lip, down rolled the tears and he went on a nursing strike until Sunday night. Of course, I cried every time I'd try to nurse and he'd shoot me down. I took a more relaxed approach on Sunday and finally coaxed him back. He's looked me square in the eyes and bit down lightly a couple of times since then, but I've managed not to scream, react calmly and take him off the boob. However, I'm a bit gun-shy now and, like a grizzly bear, I think he senses my fear. Dave was trying to be empathetic and I suggested John suck on his nipples once just so he could really understand, but he didn't think that was a good idea. Chicken.

Hi again!

I'm sitting here, fulfilling a stereotype once again: typing away on my Mac at the VW dealership. The time is long overdue for an oil change and 10,000 mile maintenance. I made the mistake of scheduling an eye appointment before coming here. My eyes are dilated, I look like I'm tripping my ass off and it's hard to read the computer screen. There's a blurry aura around everything within 2 1/2 feet of my head. I was going to pick out a new pair of frames but am thoroughly disappointed with the selection - I told the woman I didn't want anything with "all that crap" on the sides. Good luck with that - she showed me a pair with the Coach C's all over them. At that point, I asked if I could look elsewhere and, if I found anything, could they order them. No sense wasting any more time - hers or mine. And what's up with shuffling you off to spend that kind of money on frames and, because you need glasses to begin with, you can't even properly see what they look like?! I did find out that I'm 1-4 years away from bifocals. That's just super.

Henry's been up at my parents place for the last several days. Grandma and Grandpa wanted him for an extended stay one last time before school started. Dad's on his way to meet them halfway and make the Boy swap. I missed the big turd.

Apparently, people actually read this blog, so I'm going to make an effort to keep up with it. We'll see what happens. I mean, really - I'm not that exciting. I get up late, go to work, come home, feed the dog, hang with the boys, play stupid games on my computer and listen to Wilco. That's about it. Ask my neighbors - I hardly even mow!