Where Does This Ride Go?

Dear Jack,

Today we went to Kiddie Acres. We went with a former co-worker of mine and her son Jaxon.

You and Jaxon are pretty close in age and the two of you really thought the best part of Kiddie Acres was the chance to walk around and explore together. I had never noticed, for example, that the folks at Kiddie Acres decorate their trash cans until Jaxon pointed to the "balls" on the side.

I'm not saying you and Jaxon didn't have fun on some of the rides. I think Jaxon liked the train and the Ferris wheel. You liked the carousel once we took to riding on the bench, rather than those crazy up and down horses.

The thing that confused me was that your dad took you to Kiddie Acres while I was in North Carolina and reported that you liked all of the rides you tried.

So I'm not really sure what happened today.

I mean, I could totally tell, as you cried as the ride moved away from where I was standing and calmed as you approached me, that the problem was that a ride takes you somewhere... somewhere away from your mama.

So that even when you can see your mama, it's still upsetting to be away.

What I find interesting is that you didn't have this problem before. I have seen you be a tough little boy for your dad and cry inconsolably for me. I guess leaving dad and leaving mom just don't feel the same.

And I love you for that.

It reminds me that love isn't the same for everyone. I love your sister and your dad and you in such different ways. It's not about more or less, it's just different.

And the truth is, leaving you feels different than leaving anyone else for me, too.

Love,
Mom

The Pit of Despair

Dear Jack,

A year ago yesterday was your baptism. I celebrate that and I am so happy to have that day to remember. But this year, today overshadowed it. A year ago today was the last time we saw your Uncle James.

I could only think of one way to honor him today. So yesterday, on the way home from work, I called your dad and asked him to buy some spray paint.

No, I was not going to do graffiti in honor of your uncle.

I wanted to paint the pit.

The Pit of Despair.

It was your uncle's housewarming present to your dad when we moved in to this house in '03. He had just learned to weld and was looking at some old pipes one day and thought, "I could make a barbecue pit" out of those. So he did.

A year ago, your uncle showed up at our house for your baptism and after the service, one of the first things he did was check on the pit and show it off to his wife and son. Your dad had made sure to give the pit a new coat of paint the week before, just in time for your uncle's visit.

For lunch that day, Uncle James grilled for us. I don't even remember what we ate; I just remember this image of your dad, your uncle, your grandpa and your great grandpa all by the grill.

I miss your uncle a lot, but I know there are so many who miss him even more than I do. It's hard to know what to say on those days, like his birthday, or Memorial Day, to your grandma, or your Aunt Rachel. I want them to know that we miss him, too, but I also want to acknowledge that it's not the same, losing a brother (or brother-in-law) verses losing a husband or a son.

So today was my day to miss him. And since I did, I painted the pit for him.

Grief is a strange thing, I know.

You may find someday that you feel a little sad at the idea of this awesome uncle you never got to meet. That feeling will be grief. Grief for something you never got to have. And when you feel that way, you let me know, and I'll let you paint the pit that year.

Love,
Mom

Austin Nature Center

Dear Jack,

I don't always know what's going on with you. Some days, it seems like you are grouchy and grumpy and nothing is right. Then, a few days later, you are the happiest boy in the world. My only real guess is that these fussy times seem to end just as a new tooth breaks through, so you must be very sensitive to teething pain.

Whatever is going on, you are in a happy place now. All weekend, you were laughs and giggles and today was more of the same.

We went to the Austin Nature Center. Your sister was sweet enough to plug your ears for you in deference to the road noise from Mopac.

You and she splashed around in the water. I think you also tried to eat some rocks, but I'm hoping you were largely unsuccessful.

After playing in the water, we went to the part of the Nature Center that your sister calls "Prince John's Backyard." Last time we were there, you were stroller-bound and unimpressed. Today, though, you understood the coolness of an open area that few others (we've only ever seen one other family there) care to visit. You walked all around Prince John's Backyard. You stopped for some snacks and a lot of water and then walked some more.

I'm so glad that you had such a good time today.

Love,
Mom

What Does Jack Want?

Dear Jack,

Today we went to Children's Day Art Park at Symphony Square.

You were not impressed.

Sigh.

I know it was really hot and you aren't all that into the musical stylings of Staci Gray, even though I thought she was great.

It's hard these days to know what a Jack will like.

You are in a phase. The kind of phase that makes me tune into my friend Mrs. Hazen's mantra of "this too shall pass."

Soon you will be able to communicate and tell us what you would like, what frustrates you, what makes you down right mad. Soon you will be able to ask for what you want and tell us what you don't want.

Right now, you just scream and we just guess.

Sometimes the guessing leads to learning more about Jack.

The other day you were having a full on hissy fit. I heard you screaming from the other room, followed by the sound of plastic cups being hurled across a... actually, I saw the cup as it landed in the room I was in at the time.

Then you followed the cup, played for half a second, screamed again and threw the cup again.

I had to know. What had those cups done to you? So I stopped working on my project and really watched you. You were trying oh so hard to put one cup into the other and it just wasn't working. As you tried and failed, you were yelling and throwing your frustration. I walked over, held one cup and helped you put the other one in.

That was all it took. Well, that and the time and ability to suss out what in the world was going on in your little mind. A similar thing happened again today with one of your sister's play necklaces and a faux scoop of ice cream. You reasoned that the necklace should fit inside the concave scoop of ice cream, but every time you put the end of the necklace in the scoop, the necklace fell to the floor. I had to help you gather up all of those beads into a ball and then they fit just right.

In the midst of that frustration, though, you still surprise us with the things that you embrace. At the pool today, you did not want to be held. Did not, would not, we can't make you, kind of not wanting. So I passed you off to your dad to see if you felt differently about him. You did... for a second. Then you squirmed and cried again. Back to mama. Back to daddy. Wait a minute. You didn't want to be held because you wanted to feel the water and be passed around in it. By the end, you were going between your dad and me underwater and kicking for more.

Who knew that would be what you wanted?

So for the next few months, while you work on mastering some language skills, please be patient with your dad and me. Although you don't really realize it, yet, we are separate people and I cannot read your mind.

Love,
Mom

Jack - The Blog Post

Dear Jack,

There is this move, Spaceballs which is a parody of Star Wars and a bunch of other 70's and 80's sci-fi movies. In it, one of the characters is showing off the merchandising for the movie. He holds up various items and names them, "Spaceballs the T-shirt. Spaceballs the lunchbox. Spaceballs the coloring book." I think he then holds up a flamethrower, but that's just the kind of movie it is.

Anyway, I made Jack - the mural for your birthday party and it made me so very sad that I had to take it down and Jack - the photograph of the mural just isn't as satisfying.

So I decided to make Jack - the coffee mug.

The house that Jack built, Jack and the beanstalk and Jack o' Latern on one side.

(You can kind of see the edge of the hill that Jack and Jill tumbled down from the middle of the mug.) Then jack-in-the-box, Jack be Nimble, Apple Jack (cereal), Little Jack Horner, CrackerJacks, and Colby Jack cheese on the picnic with Jack Frost in the air.

It makes me want Jack - the T-shirt, Jack - the lunchbox, and Jack - the coloring book myself.

Love,
Mom

And Now for Something Completely Different...

Dear Jack-a-baby:

Time for a change of pace - in fact, a momentous occasion, as I, your father, am posting on your blog!

*cue loud gasps, record-scratching noise*

Your mother asked me if I'd like to do a post in honor of Father's Day, and after a moment's hesitation, I agreed to write something.

But what?

I could write about how you are a very, um, emotional little boy - at least, compared to how your sister was at your age. As I myself am not overly burdened with emotions (apart from dealing with your mother's) this occasionally presents a challenge. For example, I recently expressed frustration with your habit of continuing to fuss after getting whatever it was you were fussing over in the first place - the problem is solved, right? Why are you still complaining?

Your mother pointed out that just because you had gotten what you wanted, you were still full of emotion (in this case, anger) over not having it. How strange.

I could write about how you are a very cute little baby. If I were single, you would be my partner-in-crime. No woman is immune to your blue-eyed, goofy-grinning charms. I hope for your sake you maintain that quality when you are older (as long as you use it responsibly!)

I could write about how impressed I am with many of your qualities:

1. Your strength - watching you move furniture around to get at dropped toys is a constant source of amusement.
2. Your persistence - although often frustrating (like when you sneak into the bathroom to play in the toilet for the 342nd time) it is an impressive trait for a 1-year-old.
3. Your intelligence - you have an interest in how things work. It's actually quite fascinating - you understand on some basic level that machines are 'doing something' - and you want to know what! I wonder if you will maintain that quality as you get older... if so, you will definitely be put to work on my project cars!

But in the end, what I really want to write is simply this: I am proud to be your father, I love you, and your presence completes our family like a cornerstone.

Love,
Dad

Some Rearranging

Dear Jack,

Today was your last day at Libby's. I sent you there today and yesterday so your sister and I could work on the whole potty training idea, but also so we could do some things that are hard to do while you are around.

Things like playing with tiny, very swallowable, chokeable pieces of plastic called legos.

I am certain that you will love legos when you are older. I think you might love them now. But they just aren't a good choice for you or your digestive tract.

I was planning on only having the legos out the two days you were at Libby's and then putting them away until next summer, but your sister and I had too much fun. So today, I spent the afternoon moving all of the legos into the play room, which is now off limits to you and stays "locked" while you are up and about.

It seemed really unfair to take away your play space without doing something for you in return, so I moved some other things around and put new (to you) toys in your room.

You thought that was pretty much the coolest thing ever. You went back and forth from the train table to the kitchen, putting plates and forks on the train table and trains and cars in the sink.

I was glad the rearranging made you happy. Because you really can't have the legos. Sorry.

Love,
Mom

Mama's Home

Dear Jack,

I would ask, "Did you miss me?" but I know the answer. I knew the moment I saw you in the airport, searching faces, looking for your mama. It had been four days since we last saw each other and that was just too long.

I missed you, too, by the way.

But what would make me leave you (in your father's more than capable care) for four whole days? Very few things, but this little girl is on the list:

It's your cousin Jamie. She's new to the world and needs to know that her whole family, even the Nolens way far away in Texas, love her like crazy cakes. I had considering bringing you with me, on a road trip, but when you told me Houston was too far to travel unless you happen to be in the mood to sleep the whole way, I knew North Carolina would be way too far. Flying with you really isn't an option for me. I hate flying and chose to sleep the whole way. And as awesome as you are, you can't occupy yourself on a plane, just yet. So I left you with your dad and flew, even though I wanted to drive so that my time away was as short as possible.

In North Carolina, I had a great time with your Aunt Rachel, Gram, Will and Jamie. We did all kinds of fun things. We went to some museums and a lake. We painted pottery and put together a giant jigsaw puzzle. We did some shopping and some science. Mostly, though, we just enjoyed the time spent together.

I love watching your Aunt Rachel in action. She makes everything look so easy, even though I know being a single mom is one of the hardest jobs there is. She acted like taking Will and Jamie all over the place was nothing and she has plans to get on a plane with both of them and come to Texas next month. She even offered, if I would plan to come to see her right after she was in Texas, to fly with you and your sister and me and take care of four kids on a plane while I slept. The best thing is, I know she could totally do it.

Your cousin Will is a great kid. I can't wait for you to get a little older and be able to play with him. He is sweet and thoughtful and dare-devilish and energetic and smart and funny all at the same time. I predict that you really look up to him as the two of you get older.

As for Jamie, I hope you don't mind. I spent most of my visit, including the stretch from midnight to four in the morning, holding her and snuggling with her, just like I used to do with you.

It was the highlight of the visit for me. I know this may sound strange, but Jamie smelled right to me. She smelled like you did as a newborn.

She smelled like a Nolen.

And I don't mean because she had a little bit of gas.

I mean because she's family.

So I know you missed me a lot while I was gone. I missed you, too. But I was glad to have gone and will probably do it again next summer. But before you know it, you'll be old enough to come with me and then you'll get to join in the fun. That is, if we don't get your Aunt Rachel and cousins to move here to Texas before then.

Fingers crossed.

Love,
Mom

Children's Museum

Dear Jack,

How much do I love that I named you Jack?

We went to the Children's Museum today. Your dad had the day off of work, and because you and your sister and able to enjoy very different things right now, I wanted to do the museum when there was a one to one parent-child ratio.

I enjoyed spending a lot of time with you today. You impressed me with your ability to maneuver pegs and balls into the holes that they fit so neatly into. Your attention span and ability to press on beyond your nap were amazing to me as well.

You had fun playing with various exhibits. A lot of them weren't quite to you what they might have been intended for. The kid-friendly Sudoku board, for example, became a taste-texture exploration for you.

Mostly, though, you liked the baby area with all of the balls. You found big soft balls, bouncy balls, and little balls. You would find one, walk around with it, drop it, and run after it. What fun!

You spent a lot of time, though, with these two golf balls, one for each hand.

After you had your fun in the baby area, we rejoined your dad and sister to play together. You and your sister liked the construction zone, even though you thought the hat was a peek a boo toy, not part of a dress up costume.

My favorite part was the Carmen Lomas Garza exhibit. They have had this exhibit for a while and I always thought of it as the Mexico exhibit. There is this dance/band scene, a backyard barbecue, and a kitchen where you can make faux tamales. I found the exhibit compelling and it always reminded me a children's book or something I had seen before that I couldn't quite name. Today, with your dad there to look after you and your sister, I was able to look around and actually read some of the information about the exhibit. It turns out that more than just a Mexico exhibit, it is an exhibit about the artist Carmen Lomas Garza. Her paintings, once I saw them, are pretty famous scenes from the daily life of Mexican Americans in South Texas and each setting in the exhibit is straight from one of her painting. Compare our family band with the band in her painting, Baile, particularly the guitarist behind us.

It was like we were in a painting!

Speaking of paintings, on our way to lunch I took a set of pictures of you walking downtown and then photo-shopped it to look like a watercolor. It may be my new favorite picture of you.

And yes, you are wearing baby legs.

Makes me smile.

Love,
Mom

Rainy Day at the Zoo

Dear Jack,

Yesterday, it was raining. Actually, let me back this story up a little bit.

Tuesday night, I stayed up late playing a very awesome game on the computer called Heroes II. At just after one in the morning, I was thinking about going to bed when I heard you fuss. I knew you were just getting over an ear infection and your Tylenol had worn off, so I went in to give you more Tylenol. You perked right up after that and I wound up playing with you in your room for about an hour before you were ready to go back to bed.

That's when the thunder storm started. You were able to sleep through the thunder storm just fine. Your sister, not so much.

It stormed most of the night, and at four in the morning, I was ready to go to bed. I was able to get some sleep and when I woke up, I thought, "Let's go to the zoo."

After waiting hours for you and your sister to wake from your respective morning naps, we headed off.

I love going to the zoo when it's raining. I knew most if not all of exhibits would be closed, but your favorite, the fish, were inside and would be unaffected.

You had a great time at the zoo. You crawled and walked all over the reptile house and the aquarium and looked at the fish and turtles, lizards and snakes.

And at the end, when you were cold and tired, your sister shared her raincoat with you.

What a perfect day.

Love,
Mom

The Easy Part

Dear Jack,

Last summer, I kept telling myself that I was doing the easy part. That taking a little newborn you out with your sister, then two and half, was so much easier than it would be when I had a one year old you and a three and half year old sister.

I'm not sure that was true. Today, for example, we played outside for over an hour, which last summer I actually could not have done because it was simply too hot for a newborn. Then I played on the computer and took a little nap myself as you took a two hour nap, also unheard of last summer. After that, we went to the library where I got to play with you and your sister and even read some books instead of trying to discretely nurse you while hoping your sister listened to me and stayed close since she was really too little to play out of sight.

Last summer, I'm realizing in retrospect, was really, really, really hard.

I'm just glad I didn't know it at the time. I'm also realizing the value in looking at what's easy instead of looking at what's hard. What's easy right now is that you are still content much of the time in your stroller. Next summer, you will be off and running. This summer, your sister listens pretty well and you like to stay close to me. Next summer, the two of you may be in cahoots to do goodness knows what. This summer, you are sweet and snuggly and still my baby boy. Next summer, you will be a toddler yourself and you know what they say about those terrible twos. This summer you reliably nap. Next summer I may be bribing both you and your sister to play in your rooms so I can get a minute to myself.

This summer, I think, may be the easy part.

At least, I think it is if I focus more on the sweetness of you,

and less on the whole screaming phase you are currently working your way through.


Besides, life is lived better focusing on the good under most any circumstances anyway.

Love,
Mom

A Galveston Vacation

Dear Jack,

We just got back from your first big family vacation. You had so much fun!

First of all, we went to the beach in Galveston. You thought the beach was wonderful. You loved the sand and the seaweed and surf coming up to the beach. Mostly, though, you liked the sand. By the time we left the beach, you were pretty much covered, head to toe, in sand. I think you even managed a few bites of sand while we were there. Ew.

After the beach, we went and saw your Grandma at Moody Gardens. She was so happy to see you and and you enjoyed seeing her, too.

We went with Grandma to the Aquarium. You had been before, but you were a little baby at the time.
This time, you were old enough to look at the animals yourself and you thought it was the coolest thing ever. You were screaming half the time, just in the sheer excitement of it all. Aaaaaaaa!

You crawled from one end of the aquarium to the other. You thought all of the penguins and fish were so neat to look at. You also enjoyed playing with your Grandma at the aquarium. You thought she had brought a stick for you to play with, but that's really the sign of how much she loves you. That's a cane to help her walk because her knees hurt her a lot and she still came to the aquarium and walked all around it to be with you and your sister. Wow.

At the gift shop, I found an orange crab, which made me very happy. You kept throwing it out of the stroller, but in the end, I bought it anyway knowing that it was more for me anyway.

We also went to Schlitterbaun. Fun, fun, fun!

You had so much fun playing in the water. You walked and crawled and splashed and played until you just couldn't play any more.

Then I got to do one of my most favorite things, hold a sleeping Jack. Aw.

I also succeeded in not killing you that day. Your cousin Lillia pointed out that I have, so far, succeeded in that every day, but Friday it was a closer thing than on most days. We were on an inner tube together and your dad gave us a push to help steer us and it knocked me off balance. You and I both went underwater and I am proud to say that I had you back up, over my head, out of the water before your dad even realized that we had capsized. Whew.

After Schlitterbaun, we went to the Flight Museum. They closed earlier than I thought, so we only had about thirty minutes to look at all of the planes. Sad for Dad. Not so sad for the rest of us.

Since the Flight Museum was closing, we went on back to Moody Gardens to the Forgotten Gateway exhibit.
You were completely unimpressed by the exhibit, but you did enjoy eating the glass. Yum?

After the museums, we went out to dinner. I should recount at this point how you are in a shrieking place right now. I figure it has to do with language development and your frustration at not being about to communicate, but we practically got kicked out of the place we went for lunch on Thursday (actual quote from the very nice manager: "Tell me what you want little guy and I'll get it for you. Whatever it is. I'll get it for you!") so I came to dinner Friday prepared. I had bought a book in case you and I were stuck in the car, sent your dad and sister in first to get a table and drinks and ordered, first thing, a chocolate milk shake for you. Sugar. Protein. Fat. In one delicious concoction. You spent the rest of the meal slowing coming down from your sugar high. Mostly quietly.

The following morning, we met up with your other family for breakfast. If you ever run away from home, I'm not going to worry because I'll know where you'll be going.

You even enjoyed shopping since Lillia and Aunt Dani were sweet enough to walk you around in the stroller until you could fall asleep.

At the Strand, there is a large chess set that magically appears from time to time (Aunt Dani says you have to rent it but no one knows where you rent it from) and this time, it was there, so I asked the older boys who were playing if you could play with their already captured pieces and they said that would be fine. Checkmate!

For lunch, we went to the Rainforest Cafe which had lots of fish to look at, cool animatronics and every so often, a thunderstorm. Cool!

Myles even helped you to look at the fish while you were waiting for the food. And just for the record, you still shrieked, but because you never got louder than the gorillas or the thunderstorm, we figured it was okay.

So really, up until that point, it had been a very good vacation. A perfect vacation even. Nothing in life stays perfect, though, so here's where we get to the Worst Ride Home Ever.

In the car, you cried. You shrieked. You whined. But mostly, you screamed. We kept thinking that you would cry yourself to sleep. You had missed your afternoon nap and your morning nap was just a thirty minute stroller nap so we knew you were tired. But you would not stop crying. So finally, we took the hint and stopped for ice cream. It had worked so well the day before after all.

Ah. Sugar. Protein. Fat. In one delicious concoction. You felt so much better after the ice cream (and the water) and were able to make it the rest of the way home without any more fuss.

But, and considering the sand you ate, the crawling around Moody Gardens and Schlitterbaun, chewing the glass at the museum, and the foreshadowing of all of the shrieking, this shouldn't be a surprise, as soon as I pulled you out of the car at that Dairy Queen, I knew you were getting sick.

At home, I confirmed that you are running about a 102 degree fever. You are asleep right now in your own bed, having had a nice bath and the proper dosage of Tylenol. We'll see how you are tomorrow and Monday. I expect that you'll be pretty miserable the next day or so, but sometimes, that's the price of a really good vacation.

Don't worry. One way or another the rest of the family will help you pay up.

Love,
Mom