The Language of Jack

Dear Jack,

You are growing and changing so much these days. Your desire to communicate is so strong and you are trying to master new words all of the time. You have also become a proficient pointer and are able to make us understand things like "please read me this book" quite well with your body language and facial expressions, even if it takes a minute or two.

Today, for example, you did say something with a "buh" sound that may have been book. When that didn't work, you picked up the book. When that didn't work, you brought the book to your dad and then looked at him expectantly. He picked you up and started to read. During the reading of the book, as you pointed to the birds we had to wonder if the "buh" from earlier was more of a "bird" word since the book is all about birds. At this point, we don't know, but you were happy with the book being read, so there's that.

I am starting to understand how miserable not being able to make us know what you want must be for you and as your frustration level is going down, so is the frequency of your fit throwing.

There are still times when you can't use nonverbal cues to get us to do what you want and you still don't have very many words, and so frustration does still happen, but less and less often.

Keep being patient with us. We're trying to learn the language of Jack as fast as we can. But I'm not sure how much we will have to learn as I think your ability to communicate will outpace our ability to make guesses and pretty soon this phase of guesswork will be over completely.

I hope so anyway.

Love,
Mom

Who Went Up the Hill?

Dear Jack,

People are starting to ask if I named you Jack just to enjoy the many, many plays on words available.

It's not quite the case, but I do remember my love of the name "Jack" as a nickname for "John" starting when I was a little girl and my dad would read me nursery rhymes and explained this idea of changing "John" into "Jack" and I was fascinated. So I guess, in a way, I did name you Jack because of its many nursery rhyme references.

But it wasn't until after you were born that I realized what fun I could have with the associations.

Most recently, I made new wall art for your room by cutting some of the "Jack" rhymes out of an old Mother Goose book.

Jack Be Nimble

Little Jack Horner

And one I had never seen before but liked:

"Jacky come give me your fiddle,
If you ever mean to thrive."
"Nay, I'll not give my fiddle,
To any man alive."

"If I should give my fiddle,
They'll think that I've gone mad.
For many a joyful day,
My fiddle and I have had."

There were many more to chose from, of course, but those are the three on your wall right now.

At least until you are old enough to put a stop to this Jack nonsense yourself.

Love,
Mom

Did You Miss Me?

Dear Jack,

Do you remember me?

I'm your mama.

I know you haven't seen much of me lately. But do you remember that unmoving lump under the covers in mama's bed? That was me. So really, I've been around. It's just that I have been far too sick to be any fun at all.

And in a "glass half full/half empty" way, the best/worst part has been that you have not been sick.

It was the best part because you were not sick, of course, and I am so grateful for that. Not just because this illness that your sister and I had came with high fever that might have been scarier in your little body than it was for me or her. Not just because being sick is miserable and I don't want you to be miserable. No, there was also the issue of how much harder it would have been for your dad to take care of a sick Sydney, a sick mama, AND a sick Jack. Especially since you're even more of a mama's boy when you don't feel well and I was too sick to care for you.

Being well, though, was the worst part because we had to keep you well, which meant, for five days, no hugs and kisses from your mama. For five days, I have barely touched you. For five days, I have not snuggled with you at all.

On the other hand, for five days, you were the only reason I got out of bed. When your dad picked you up from daycare, I would move to the chair in the living room so I could watch you play until bedtime. And once you were in bed, back to bed I went.

But it really wasn't enough.

It's funny to miss someone you have actually been sharing a roof with, but I do.

I miss you.

Let's do something fun tonight.

Love,
Mom

Rite of Passage

Dear Jack,

I am still a little angry with your dad right now. I know I shouldn't be and that it's not his fault, but I can't help it.

What he did yesterday is still upsetting to me every time I think about it.

He says he had to do it.

He says it needed to be done three months ago.

He says I should be grateful he took care of things.

He says he thought I would be pleased.

He was wrong.

And if I had been home at the time, I never would have let him go through with it.

He says that's why he took care of it without me.

Part of me knows he's right and that I married him in part because he can take care of the unpleasant things in life that I just won't handle.

But why, why, why did he have to cut your beautiful baby hair?

He turned you into a little boy.

He says you are a little boy.

I say that you should still be my sweet little baby.

He says that's why little boys have daddies... to help them grow up when their mamas want them to stay little.

I guess he's right, but I'm still a little sad inside.

Love,
Mom

The Last Day of Summer 2010

Dear Jack,

The Last Day of Summer was a little rough on you.

But you still had fun. I noted last year that the Last Day of Summer gets better as you get older. You did enjoy it much, much more this year than last, but I hadn't thought about how as I was wearing you out, your balance and co-ordination would be affected, so I'm sorry about all the injuries, especially since as you look at pictures, it's clear that you started the day injury free.

Our first stop was your favorite, the Children's Museum. I planned on spending more time there than anywhere else and doing it first thing, when you were at your most refreshed. It worked, too. You napped on the way from the house to pick up Mrs. Ford and then played oh so happily at the museum.

Your new discovery this time was the pipe that you put nuts and bolts into and an air vent blows the pieces up to the second level for delivery. You kept marveling that as you dropped the pieces in, they went UP and not DOWN. Funnily enough, you put so many in so fast that the air system was overwhelmed by the weight of the pieces and gravity was returned to normal. We actually had to find an employee to open the bottom portion and clean the drain, so to speak, of all the pieces you put there. I ease my guilt in the idea that this must happen almost daily.

You also enjoyed lunch at Red Robin. You ate many, many fries, the crusts of your sister's grilled cheese sandwich, and enjoyed the milk shake we were sharing so much that you wouldn't stop drinking to take in air and I had to stop sharing it to make sure you got enough. After I stopped drinking, you took my straw and yours and decided you could get even more shake with two straws.

Unfortunately, it took longer to find the camera than it took you to finish the milkshake, so I didn't get the super cute image of you with two straws in your mouth, but you get the idea.

After lunch is when things got rough for you. We went to Kiddie Acres and although you rode two or three rides, you didn't seem to enjoy them. In fact, you just looked overheated and extremely thirsty. So I bought flavorless snow cones for you and your sister. You thought these were great. So great that when yours was finished, you cried and cried and cried until I bought you another. During the second snow cone, as you were sitting on the bench eating, with my hand on your waistband, you did a nose dive off the bench and although I was able to somewhat catch you (enough to keep the impact with the road-like surface of concrete with pea gravel embedded into it from being the trip to the ER it could have been), you still got a little abrasion in the middle of your forehead and walked around with a band-aide for a while. As a bonus, though, the lady gave you ice for your head, which turned into ice for your mouth.

I knew you were super thirsty, though, when the two snow cones and the ice from the pack were not enough. I knew they were not enough because you keep going over to the trashcan where I had thrown away the triangular papers that hold the cones. "I can't believe she threw away my snow cone!" you seemed to be saying. Nevermind that you had eaten everything but the paper.

You also kept going to the concession stand window and banging on the only part of it that you could reach. The final clue, though, to your level of heat exhaustion was the image of you, standing my the mister, trying desperately to get the misty water into your mouth. I got you a big cup of ice water after that.

Knowing how hot you had gotten at Kiddie Acres, I knew you would like the pool. You did enjoy being held in the cool water and I dunked you a couple of times for good measure. After swimming, though, I wasn't thinking about how much a good swim takes out of you and let you walk around on that pool concrete. You fell, of course, and reopened the wound on your upper lip that you gave yourself at Sea World under similar circumstances.

From the pool, we went to Jungle Java, which is also where you got to eat some dinner and run around and play in an environment with padding on the floors.

It is also where we found a) that you may really need a haircut and b) that you channel static electricity very well. After each slide, your dad would touch you, get a shock, and all that hair would go back to normal. Crazy, huh?

So yes, the Last Day of Summer was a little rough on you. But I know you had a blast.

Looking forward to next year's dawn to dusk celebration of the time we get to spend together each summer.

Love,
Mom

Generational Joy

Dear Jack,

You have something that I never had, and it's not a red swing. But I didn't have one of those, either.

You have a great-grandpa. You actually have a grandpa and a great-grandpa and three grandmas and a great grandma and at least three great aunts who act like they are your grandmas. You are a lucky little boy.

I took you and your sister out to El Campo to see Great Grandma and Great Grandpa Nolen. You were greeted with hugs and kisses, toys and the promise of yummy banana pudding.

Of course, one of the nice things about great grandparents is that when you don't like their special-recipe-everyone-likes-this-treat banana pudding, they will still let you eat all of the left over Nilla Waffers and I bet that next visit, more Nilla Waffers will be "left over" than this time.

Outside, you got into the bird bath and the dog's water bowl. I told Grandpa I had a change of clothes for you and so I wasn't worried. "In that case," he said, "Want me to get out the pool?"

Well, of course we wouldn't say no to a pool!

After the pool, I got you changed into that spare outfit I told Grandpa I had for you and while you played, I held your cousin Jamie. It didn't take you long to realize I had another baby in my arms and while I would like to say that those were love taps you were giving her, I am not so sure and you were on your way to waking her anyway, so Aunt Rachel picked you up and put you where you wanted to be. Jamie can have your mama only if she shares.

During this time, we got to have a very special treat. Your Uncle Ken sang for us. I hear that he doesn't do concerts that often any more. I for one had never been offered the chance to hear one. I loved the "Dear Abby" song and we all cried a little when he sang a special song he wrote for Aunt Rachel and Uncle James called "Love You Same." Mostly, what resonated with me, though, was how old fashioned and wholesome the whole thing felt. I remember reading The Little House on the Prairie books about how Pa would play the fiddle to entertain everyone or how Marianne Dashwood entertained with the pianoforte in Sense and Sensibility and was fascinated by the idea of musically gifted people being such a value in pre-radio, pre-television, pre-internet and ipod and everything else world. Please don't think that I'm saying your Uncle Ken is truly part of that old world; only that listening to his gift made me think that he maybe could have been.

It was very special to me for you and your sister and your cousins to be there with Great Grandma and Great Grandpa Nolen. They love you so much without getting to see you very much (and therefore without knowing you that well) just because you are a Nolen and because they remember your dad and your grandpa when they were little boys just like you are now. I cannot fathom what it must be like for them to see their sweet boy's son's baby boy, but I sure hope I get to find out.

Love,
Mom

Children's Museum

Dear Jack,

While in Houston, we decided to go to the Children's Museum. Unlike the one in Austin, Houston's Children's Museum has an entire second floor baby and toddler area. You had been here in January, but way back then you couldn't even walk, so this was a whole new experience.

You enjoyed the mirrored doors a lot, but there was a point at which they really confused you. You kept opening and closing the door -- open the door, see the Jack, close the door; open the door, see the Jack, close the door. Then, a little girl walked over to a door, opened it and (wait for it) NO JACK!!!! There was a little girl inside the door, instead. You were so confused! You waited for her to leave and then checked it out - open the door, see the Jack, close the door. Yep. All's right with the world once again.

You also showed off a little bit of your stubborn streak. Do you know what you are doing here? Yep. Screaming your head off while trying to stand and getting stuck. Do you know how many times I pulled you out only for you to go back in and try it all over again?

Well, I guess four isn't really that many, right?

I got to hold your cousin for a minute in the baby area. You found that there was this string attached to a thing in her mouth. You also found that you could pull it and she would cry. You also found that once she cried, her mama came and got her off of your mama's lap. Mission accomplished, eh? And you look so innocent.

This is the group picture we took outside the Children's Museum. It's cute, isn't it? This is what I really wanted to share with you. See, I had wanted to take the picture further over, but your cousin Will changed my mind when he pointed out how something about this statue made him think of his dad.

You see, when you are on the periphery of a loss as I am with the loss of your Uncle James, it becomes difficult to know when and how to bring him up. Will talking about your uncle make your aunt, or your cousin, or your grandparents, or your dad and his youngest brother sad? It's moments like this that remind me that it doesn't matter when I think to bring him up; to the ones touched most deeply by the loss of him, he's on their minds all the time. I was picking a picture spot, thinking of how the picture would look in a frame and all your aunt and cousin could think about was the conversation they had had on the way in about this statue being like your Uncle James. So of course we took the picture over here, so that James could be in it.

I'll admit, it wasn't a way of remembering him or thinking of him that would ever have crossed my mind, but I want you to look at that boy's green checked shirt because I think you will be seeing it a lot as we stop to take a picture next to it each and every time we come to the Houston Children's Museum. And I won't have to remind anyone that Will said this one was his dad; they all will be thinking the same thing.

Love,
Mom

She Calls Him "The Baby Whisperer"

Dear Jack,

This is your Uncle Mark. I want you to notice that he is holding you and you are not actually crying at the moment.

See, I'm not saying that you are a grouchy boy.

I'm not saying you are hard to please.

I'm not saying that you are in a difficult stage.

I am saying, however, that you love your parents very much and do not like for either your mama or your daddy to leave you with anyone else.

Unfortunately, I was alone in Houston with your and your sister and a mama has to go to the bathroom every now and then.

So I would leave you with Uncle Mark.

By the end of the first day, you fell asleep in his arms.

By the end of the second day, you were eating out of his hand (literally).

By the end of the third day, I could walk by and as long as you were on his lap and eating, you wouldn't cry if I didn't stop.

No wonder Aunt Dani calls him "The Baby Whisperer."

Love,
Mom




P.S. In case that reference was lost on you, there was a book (and later a movie by the same name) called The Horse Whisperer about a guy who was really good with horses.