Well, I am adjusting to life with an additional J. It has been described to me as "a new normal" and this is true. Life as I knew it no longer exists and now I have to figure out how to maintain some sort of safe, sane, and somewhat sanitary environment for my little people.
We get the cheap basic cable and because they block out all the extra channels, there are a few we get that we aren't supposed to. The Style network is one of them. We like to watch "Clean House" in which a team of four people visits a family with intense clutter, has a yard sale, and uses the money to fix up and reorganize their space. The show is hosted by Nicey Nash, a large lipped always well dressed African American woman who is never without a flower in her hair. She always has a heart to heart with these people who live in clutter and she is always using the adjectives "foolishness" and "mayhem" to describe their home.
This is my new normal. FOOLISHNESS. And MAYHEM.
Contributing to much of my mayhem is my toddler. I now would like to remind those who may not know or remember, that I previously described Cash as a big squooshy marshmallow. And he is. Although a marshmallow I believe, is a little bit lighter. Anyways, Cash has weighed and measured average for his age, so when I make comments about how huge he is, it's not really that he's all that big, it's just the way he carries himself. And throws himself around. He is a full blown male toddler. I add the "male" part because he has an aspect that is quite masculine. He likes to destroy, take apart, and tear things apart. I think the squooshy marshmallow part applied to Cash, the baby. As my friend Carey says, we won the baby lottery. He was laid back, quiet, and calm. Cash the toddler is not so much. If the bathroom door is open, he is in the toilet. If the pantry is open, he is in it. If it's locked, he tries the trash can. He is fully equipped with that toddler radar that hones in on anything that is NOT a good idea for him to climb on, touch, eat, or throw.
What spurred this whole blog is what happened yesterday. I was attempting to teach Jackson school. We were sitting on the bed in the playroom (trying to be away from Cash) using some paper triangles to make shapes of things. We had a child's encyclopedia open next to us, which we were referencing, trying to imitate their shapes. Cash bounds up on the bed, much to my frustration, and does a spread eagle on top of the encyclopedia, hoisting his ample belly right on top of the pages, wrinkling them up as he grabs for our project. Jackson got frustrated too and said, "Cash, you're like King Kong!"
Unfortunately, ever since Jackson made this observation, I keep having these visions of Cash, our little King Kong, climbing into Penelope's crib, (the top of the Empire State Building, if you will) grabbing her by the torso, and waving her around while he speaks his toddler-ease that no one can really understand. While he may be a gentle giant at heart, I fear for my newborn's safety, I must confess.
Hey, it's Julie. I thought I would record some highlights from the birth experience while they are fresh in my mind. The best part for me was getting to photograph the birth of my own baby. I have always wanted to do this, but haven't been able to while in the pains of labor and pushing. I finally accomplished it by getting an epidural and having my baby slide out with no pushing required. Jimmy stood watch of two screens- my contractions and Sunday afternoon football. My mom was the normal queen of support, but I'm sure glad I remembered to pack the crossword puzzles, since most of the day was pretty boring.
My Dad gets a gold medal for babysitter of the millennium--he watched my kids on an incredibly exciting and unpredictable day. You think I'm referring to the birth of Penelope? Well, that's exciting and unpredictable but really I was referring to the time change. Also, three days worth of Pop-Pop's morning oatmeal, which he lovingly makes for the kids when he's visiting, decided to blaze on through to Cash's diapers. Dad got to deal with all of it. When Jimmy called him after she was born, Jackson got on the phone, heard the news, yelled at Jimmy "I'm pumped!" and then promptly hung up.
Libby sat next to me on my hospital bed, looked over at Penelope and said, "We're three girls." (I usually say to Libby, "We're two girls.") Cash lovingly held my hand while sitting in his stroller next to my bed in the hospital. We are pretty much experts at the whole hospital stay, and Jimmy was very gracious to get off his lame excuse for a bed just to turn on a light or get me a drink. He ate cheese grits from the cafeteria like three times. He also provided plenty of laughs for me, as usual, with his mispronunciations of words we only use during or after childbirth. For example, a baby's first bowel movement, called "meconium" was called by Jimmy condonium and plutonium, among a few others. I kept correcting him, even though I knew what he meant and knew it would do no good, he won't remember what it's called and it really doesn't matter, I guess. When a nurse technician came in to draw my blood at 5 a.m. missed a vein twice, and then sent in someone else, I managed to pretty much sleep through the whole thing. Later, another nurse came in to tell me about the class for new mommies. When she left I announced, "I think I'm going to skip the class this time." I'm not proud, but I don't really need a demonstration on how to use a car seat or put on a diaper.
Enough of all that. I really wanted to post a few pictures that I actually got a chance to take in all the chaos. Penelope has proven to be no trouble so far-- a good sleeper at night, I'm hoping it sticks! Jackson wants to hold her ALL the time. Libby regularly announces she loves her, and Cash, though he's having a little trouble adjusting, likes to bring her what she needs. Tonight my mom was holding her, and Cash brought her a blanket, cloth diaper, and my bed pillow, since those are the items I've had with me every time I hold her. He pays attention.
Penelope is little, red, and bringing up the rear of the J train. Our caboose.