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Jack hit the big 1-0 on Sunday. Ten months seems so “old” but still so young…
Nevertheless, our baby has become quite the little boy–a mischievous and curious one at that. As in, he takes pride in finding the smallest speck of dirt in our almost daily-vacuumed carpet and shoving that small speck into his mouth the minute all three of look away. Just yesterday in fact, he took it upon himself to reach up onto our entryway table to snatch a small section of a paper towel and chew it like cud. Of course, he crawled away as fast as he could, clearly defining his guilt. After trying to calmly retract it with my finger and then fish it out, he freaked but knew exactly what he did was a no-no.
Speaking of no-no, Jack has become quite the copycat even moreso than before. Since we seem to say no-no or not for Jackson more times than we can count, the kid knows what is, and what is not a no-no. What I mean by that is, he doesn’t always understand the concept of no, but he “gets” that when he reaches for certain things, mom or dad will immediately say no-no or not for Jackson. And in some cases, we just do the finger wag and shake our head. So every time he reaches for the low-lying cable box, he’ll turn around and wag that little finger of his…right before he lunges forward and pushes all the buttons with that same wagging little finger anyway. Better yet, since flowers around the apartment are inevitably off limits, he knows mama will wag her finger if he even looks that way. So when we were in Trader Joe’s the other weekend, as we passed the floral section, Jack smiled and wagged his little finger. haha. Besides no-no, he’s grasping a few signs, including drink, eat and some more. The best of all, he loves to blow kisses. Even though he gets the concept of blowing kisses, he kind of forgets to release the actual kiss. He “gets” it. Well, almost!
As a family member candidly said to me the other week, “He’s a real human being now!”
Why yes, yes he is 
His appearance, to me at least, changes daily. He looks like a little boy and is so far removed from the baby stage. His hair is long, much lighter and shaggy-like. People are starting to ask if he is a boy or girl–or if we had his hair cut like that? He’s still very fair-skinned, much like his father. We think he still sports equal likenesses of the both of us. However, I see so much of my older brother in him. He has 8 teeth as of today which, we’re often told by other parents that it seems like a lot for his age. Alas, we were assured by Jason’s brother who is a pediatric dentist that all baby teeth grow in at drastically different paces.
Jack, for the most part is a great eater. I usually make things for dinner that he can have and feed him smaller bits and pieces. Well, as of last week, he demands that he feeds himself. Slivers of chicken breast, pasta, squash, peas and brown rice are his favorites for mealtime. Bananas, Smart Puffs, mangoes and Goldfish crackers are his idea of fun snacks. Jack still drinks 3 or so bottles/cups of formula a day. When I get home, he nurses in the evening and early morning. My fears of inadvertent weaning never happened while we were apart. He actually picked it back up, without skipping a beat. Since he doesn’t nurse too frequently anymore, we’ll more than likely observe baby-led weaning by his first birthday.
On the mobile front, in order to efficiently get into absolutely everything, Jack loves to cruise and stand. If he can’t get somewhere, he doesn’t bother with the uncertainty of cruising, but instead, relies on the swiftness of crawling. The minute he hears the bathroom door open–otherwise known as the outlet to his duck tub– he sprints for it! It doesn’t matter where he is, if that door is open, by the time you’re done washing your hands, Jack is on the other side banging for you to let him in.
Size-wise, Jack is hovering in the 24-25 lb. range. He seems to be much taller, but weight-wise I don’t think he’s changed much. He’s still wearing some 12m clothes, but moreso 18m-24m. One of the brands that I like for t-shirts, he’s actually in 2T already.
His personality continues to blossom as quickly as his babbling turns into more definitive syllables. He seems to make friends almost everywhere we go with both, the young and old. He waves hi in that coy school boy sort of way. Just the other day, as we were perusing through the fruit section of Whole Foods, Jack quickly befriended any lady that gave him attention. By the time we got to the bread aisle, he was giving googly eyes and professing his love to another nice lady. And now, if you can imagine, Jack is punctuating this charm with blowing kisses. If I didn’t know any better, I think our kid is quite the flirt. On the other end of the spectrum, however, he get pretty frazzled when other kids are aggressive or too loud for his comfort level. He knows what he likes and what he does not like and expresses it all in such a way that makes sense to me. In line with knowing what he wants, the kid continues to be such a thespian. If he’s thirsty or wants more water after I’ve taken away his sippy cuppy after he’s flung it on the floor for the 25th time, he will let out the most obnoxious fake cough. As if the fake cough isn’t enough, he now does an exasperating release and will bury his head onto the floor if something doesn’t go his way, such as mommy and daddy leaving.
Oh boy, separation anxiety. This topic deserves its own post. Separation anxiety, at the moment, is definitely a major struggle. It’s something that has surfaced in the last few months, but definitely became more prevalent once he came back from Va. As guilty as this makes me feel, my friend promises me that all kids go through this stage, some more than others. As much as I think this 25 growth on my leg, hip, arm is cute, it does wear on me and tends to be a bit much when he doesn’t want anyone else! On the bright side, I do enjoy those days when I am the center of his universe. In a few years, like we were told, there will be a day when daddy walks on water and he’ll be like, “mommy who?” For now, he’s a mama’s boy.
Without a doubt, that clingyness solidifies my path in life and the importance of balancing it all. And not just for my sake.
I hope everyone had a lovely weekend. The boys and I had a relaxing weekend enjoying the neighborhood, as well as our backyard– NYC. After Jack calmed down from a rough start on Saturday morning, we went into 
the City to meet my cousin’s fiance, Jason who is in town visiting his brother. This was the first time Jason and Jeff had met, but as Jason said, thanks to the internet and from our stories, it’s like they already knew each other. We had a chance to relax and stroll around in Central Park, and eventually found our way to the green urban oasis, otherwise known as the Great Lawn. It’s always cool “escaping” the cacophony of the city and retreating on the luscious lawn. While people played softball and picnicked, we all chatted and watched Jack flirt with nearby baby girls. It was a great way to spend a Saturday afternoon.
Once we got home, we made it back in time for the last night of our church’s feast. St. Ann’s Feast, in many ways, goes hand in hand with so much of our life here in NJ. In its 98th year, the feast has so much history and tradition, but at the same time, ther
e’s a sense of newness to the congregation, which, I thought, could be conveyed through the diversity of the shoulder-to-shoulder crowds. If you will, it was old school meets new school. As always, the feast was a week long of great music, sausage and peppers, Zeppoles and nightly novenas. We absolutely love our church and priests, which makes the feast so much more special to us. As much as it was a spiritual celebration for us, it was also a way to commemorate what will probably be our last summer here in Hoboken.
On Sunday, however, I thought I’d take the initiative with the changes! 
As noted by my previous post, I’m way overdue for a change! I thought I’d take advantage of the spa gift certificate the boys got me for my birthday and get a massage and haircut. Since my hair grew at an exponential pace during and after pregnancy, I thought it’d be a great opportunity to cut and donate for Locks of Love once again. So, within 2.5 years, I’ve donated 24 inches of hair! And with that donation, it’s my hope that a child can benefit with a brand new look.
On my end, I’m hoping to benefit by facing the world with a brave new face.
I apologize for the absence. Lots of stuff transpiring over the past few days and weeks. Lots of stuff going on with me, but I can assure you that both Jack and Jeff are happy, smiley and wonderful.
As for me, well, as always, I’m a mess. My horoscope pretty much sums it up. Today’s horoscope should have been YESTERDAY’s horoscope.
Cancer You might butt heads with someone who has some measure of power over you today and while it might not work out all that well at first, it could turn into something really good and honest in the long run.
Why, you ask? Well, where do I even begin?
Do I start at the part where I packed my Jetta 7 years ago and left Va to pursue my journalism career?
Or do I start at the part where it’s a Dog Eat Dog world out there and that my magazine career is NOTHING like the movies portray?
Or do I just pick up here, the part where I’m a new mom who is running on fumes because the industry is dwindling AND the economy sucks, but is determined to further my career while STILL balancing work and life, who happens to be stuck working somewhere because of the circumstances.
Yeah. That’s where I’ve been, the sucky part.
For quite some time, I’ve needed a change. The hard part is, how does one go about a change when you’re juggling infertility and then pregnancy and then the transition of motherhood.
For all these reasons and more, women of our generation are getting married later and thus, having kids well into their 30s and 40s.
For the most part, my peers WAIT to have kids until they are stable in their career, working at a place that support such things as motherhood and expanding families.
I thought I was there…
Not quite sure what happened on my journey here, but I hit a detour way back. LIKE WAY BACK. And now, I’m faced with a lot of crucial decisions, with the most important one finding a professional balance once again.
Together with Jeff, I’m plotting this next phase in life. Yesterday someone assumed that All I want to do is stay home with my little man, implying that my quest for work/life balance is failing.
OF COURSE I want to be home with my kid. What mom doesn’t? But you know what they say about assuming.
In another tearful explosion at the scene of the crime, I had a revelation yesterday. I’m stuck not because of the circumstances, but because I let one of my priorities down.
I’ve been incredibly unhappy for quite sometime, and for too long it has overlapped into my home life. I may have been a little misguided for quite sometime, but things are changing.
As proven by my relocation 7 years ago + confidence in my craft + the determination to find that balance + the unflappable support system in my husband, friends and family, I’m all about proving some people wrong.
You CAN have it all. Just watch me.
Even though Jeff and I grew up at the beach, we rarely, if ever, make it down to the shore (for non-NJ people: the shore=the beach) in the summer. There are tons of factors for this, but this year the main factor is, like most of you know, gas is so damn expensive. I’m so sad we had to back out of plans to visit my friend/Jeff’s cousin and her family. They’re our only family in NJ and they happen to live close to the shore. Though I wish we could’ve made an exclusive trip to go see them, the silver lining is that we’ll get to see them at our big family trip in less than 2 weeks. With the exorbitant increase in fuel prices, and the chain of reaction that goes with it, we are definitely starting to feel the crunch. How about everyone else? I mean, for crying out loud, I just paid $23 for a bag of rice! Less than 2 years ago that same bag used to cost $8. I keep talking about this, but I just can’t get over it.
Crazy gas prices thankfully don’t get in the way with us enjoying our church and neighborhood’s annual feast. It’s that time of year again when we have way too many zeppoles and chow on street meat. This year, or course, is so different because we’re not solely hanging out in the beer garden, like in years past. We’re actually going to mass almost every night, enjoying the music and eating way more food than we should! It’s been hot, sticky and crowded, but still a good time. Jack’s been such a trooper through the nightly novenas we’ve attended, but it’s almost like he knows he’ll be rewarded with live music afterwards. Last night after the service, we met up with friends in time to see a fun NJ cover band. Festivals are fun, sure. But when it’s your church’s festival, walking distance from your home, it’s even more fun. Needless to say, Jack rocked out to various tunes by the Nerds and was a hit with all the ladies. We, too, channeled our own inner rock stars (along with many others) by belting out the NJ anthem (Bon Jovi) at the top of our lungs.
My summers as a kid back home in Virginia Beach consisted of swimming in our pool all day or going to the beach as often as our parents would allow. The same went for Jeff. Beach, pool, play– that was the life.
But once in a blue moon, we’d go to the waterpark which, back then, was called Wild Water Rapids. There’s nothing like swimming and splashing around in a public chlorinated germfest.
Even at 32, I still love it–which is exactly why I wanted to bring the boy to the waterpark, which is now know as OceanBreeze.
So, the night before, I spent the evening stocking up on snacks, Swimmies and locating beach towels. On Saturday, we made our way to the waterpark early enough to snag a front row spot.
We marched up to the entrance, snack-filled bags in tow, to be greeted by a short line. After we bought our tickets we had to get our bags checked by one of two bag checkers. Like we would on the NJ Turnpike, we foolishly and unknowingly chose the asshole line.
We had 2 bags: the diaper bag with all of Jack’s paraphernalia and a reusable tote with our towels and snacks. Having not visited this park in 15 years or so, it never even occurred to me that outside food wouldn’t be allowed. And just as we got up to the bag checker guy, even before he could open my snack bag, like the crappy poker player I am, I revealed all of my cards: “So, I’m assuming outside food isn’t allowed in the park.”
“Sorry, no, it’s not.”
After the sad realization of having to part with my brand new tube of Sour Cream and Onion Pringles, I quickly went into mom mode. I deflected the bag checker’s Gestapo-like attitude as he peeled all of my unopened delicious chips out of my bag and asked defensively, “UM So, how is my baby going to eat?”
As he dangled Jack’s ripened banana all he could say was, “Well, what we do is put your items in a baggie with your name on it and hold at guest relations.”
I rolled my eyes and mumbled under my breath, just like one of those pain in the ass moms I swore I’d never become.
What I once considered such a joy became a huge pain in the ass.
As usual, Jeff volunteered to bring our delicious snacks back to the car. Jack and I wandered into the park and made our way to the kiddie area. And within a few seconds, as we sat admiring the Buccaneer Cove, I was excited again.
I inspected our goods in the disheveled bag after Mr. bag checker had his way with our stuff. I realized that he missed Jack’s lunch– frozen green beans. Score!
Once Jeff re-joined us, I broke out the swim diaper and sunblock. We stripped down the kid and did what we could to minimize the screaming as we pulled the diaper up over his bubble butt. After we applied the first layer of sunscreen, we were off to splash and play in the ankle deep water.
The three of us had a wonderful time being together again. It was a great way to reunite and share our childhood summertime fun with our own kid. The sprays, waterfalls, lazy river were such a blast.
Later in the afternoon, on our 57th lap around the Lazy River, Jeff pushed Jack in his inner tube as I paddle behind on my own too-small inner tube. Just as I yelled to Jack, “I’m gonna getchyou,” I heard someone say, “Jeff and Jen??” on the other side of the gate, just next to the entrance of the park.
It turns out, it was our friend Lisa, who was there with her mom, sister and her kids. I always forget what a big, but small town Va. Beach really is.
As we rounded out lap 64 on the Lazy River, with Jack on my lap, my legs started to fall asleep. As I pulled jack off and gave him to Jeff, I noticed a strange sight on my swim skirt.
Oh please no.
We walked over to the little pirate ship in the middle of the kiddie area. As Jeff held Jack, I peeked into his swim diaper AKA a septic tea bag and saw exactly what I feared.
Crap. Literally.
I have this single friend at work who loves telling me stories about his joys of going swimming at his local pool on Friday nights. “Friday nights are the best because there are no families there,” he’ll say. “Well, you know, because every weekend if one kid isn’t barfing in the pool, another is pooping in it. And of course, my time is always cut short thanks to them!”
Those are always the kind of conversations that I’d smile, nod and chuckle and go about my day. And then, I’d think to myself, “my kid won’t ever be one of those.”
If you know where I’m going with this, here’s your warning: do not pass go if you don’t want to read about well…you know.
Per usual, I’m sure I went about this whole thing the wrong way. But once I realized that Jack went #2, I immediately whisked him off to the bathroom to change and disinfect ourselves. I plopped him on his travel changing mat, atop one of those bathroom changing stations and foolishly tried to pull off the diaper exposing a scattered mess in my haste.
Experienced moms should warn you about these things. But then again, this is probably common sense– something I definitely did not tout at that particular moment.
As luck would have it, my kid wants to run and flail, just as a busload of people decide to come in and change next to us, while a curious little boy wants to make conversation with Jack.
Surely, they were all mocking the novice spectacle that just exploded in front of us.
As I mouthed obscenities to myself, I scraped and wiped and shook my head, as I tried to disclose the grossness that occurred in our corner of the shower area. After using almost every single wipe in our travel container, I put on a fresh new swim diaper and rinsed off Jack’s swim shorts. After wiping down the disgusting mess on the changing table, I sprinted back to Jeff to drop off the kid with the swiftness of a baton transfer in a relay race.
It was time to clean me and our travel mat! Thankfully, I carry around prepackaged alcohol towelettes in the diaper bag. I was able to scrub the soiled travel mat, as well as myself, as a long line of stall-waiting females could gawk and question what I was doing.
Swim diapers are designed to catch poo, and that’s about it. Apparently, they’re not designed to come off of your movable child too easily, nor contain the poo if the diaper is recklessly peeled off your child.
After the whole diaper debacle, the rest of the day was breezy. As Jeff “hid” from the sun, Jack napped for almost 2 hours and I was able to run off and escape into the various slides and tubes.
Needless to say, the waterpark with a kid is much more work but definitely a different kind of fun!
After a week away, Jeff and I drove down to Va. on Thursday to reunite with our little buddy. At first, when we started to plan our vacations for the summer, we thought our houseboating trip would be a perfect time to send Jack down with our families in Va. Jeff warned me that any time away from Jack would be hard, but a week would be nothing short of difficult.
When he’s right, he’s right.
For starters, our weekend trip with friends was awesome. We’re so thankful that we got to go; however, the days after the trip left much to be desired. The day after we got back, I had to pack a different bag and get into a whole different mindset—one that I definitely wasn’t prepared for. And like most of my business traveling experiences, I somehow always luck out with the most headache-inducing scenarios. This time, I experienced the joys of arriving late to a formal dinner, thanks to delayed trains. Sadly, the way home was no better. As if the train gods weren’t already mad at me, the PATH services home to Hoboken last Wednesday were suspended due to God-Only-Knows-What.
Those few days left me with little time to sulk about Jack being gone, but they did leave me with lots of time to ponder what’s next up in life. And thankfully, Thursday was when we left to drive down to VA to go see our little guy!
It was a long time away from him—way too long. I knew it going to be hard, but I didn’t think it was going to be that bad. 
Above all, I’m so glad Jack got to spend some much needed time with the family in VA. Like most children, Jack seemed to have brought a different kind of joy into their lives, especially since many of them only see him when we drive home for major holidays. As much happiness as he brings us daily, I’m so glad we were able to extend it their way. Jack experienced a lot of new joys with his cousins, aunt, uncles, lolo and grandparents—not to mention, a whole new level of being spoiled rotten!
But with the good always comes the not-so-good. Thanks to our parents heeding our pleads, for the most part, Jack kept a very similar routine with a few exceptions. Before Jack left to go to Va, he was becoming a champion crib sleeper—something that I’d worked months to do. Lots of sleepless nights were involved. I’m assuming he was being rocked to bed by my mom, instead of being laid to bed in his crib. And so when bedtime took almost 2 hours and lots of tears on Friday night, I felt so defeated. Our routine sort of went out the window—not only was I suffering, but so was poor Jack. It’s like I’d lost a battle of baby sleeplessness and gained much more baggage. It was then that I realized that poor Jack was also suffering from separation anxiety. Any time I got up to leave, he would let out a whimper and start wailing. And the same would go for the daytime. If I left him to go to another room, he’d cry and wail. He didn’t want anyone else to console him for the first few minutes, only me.
I feel guilty for making him feel like that. I feel guilty for being the cause of those big crocodile tears. I feel guilty for needing balance in life.
Yeah, sure, he’ll be fine in a few days, but it’s these first initial days of working on the normalcy that makes it so damn hard. I sort of expected the departure for work to be difficult this morning, but actually, it wasn’t so bad. It’s almost like, he knew we were back in NJ, thus, he knew we’d be going back to our old routine.
While he was in Va., I envisioned him eating steak and ice cream all week. Thankfully, he didn’t have either (at least not that we know of,) but we did roll up to my parents’ house to find a small collection of organic snacks galore. Without a doubt, the kid was spoiled rotten and unfortunately, we all learned that an allergy-sensitive kid shouldn’t be spoiled with too much snacks. We discovered that Jack has an allergy after eating certain baby cookies which contained safflower/sunflower oil—ingredients that can often be found in snack sort of foods and ones he’s never really had. So that was a lesson learned for all of us that we just can’t give him anything. We have to stay diligent with monitoring his foods. But man, did he love those cookies!
Appearance-wise, Jack looked the same, but I almost felt like his hair looked suspiciously shorter. Maybe it’s that his hair grew longer and I was visualizing it shorter? His top teeth have come in almost halfway, making him look like a baby hippo with his teeth all spread out and still missing one in the front.
He’s clapping more frequently, “playing” the piano and saying Amen (according to my mom.) But the most striking new thing is his pointing. It’s so funny—he points at everything he wants and makes one of his baby coos. He points at Jeff, he points at me, he points at his doggie, he points at food, he points at birds—you name it!
Even before Jack came home, Jeff and I agreed that there will be no more weeks in Va without us—it’s just too much when he’s this little. He enhances not only our lives, but our marriage that we felt so lost without him! We had 11 years of Jen and Jeff time, a week without Jack isn’t our idea of fun.
I’m thankful for the ability to share our boy with family, even though we choose to live far away; and yes, even if it does involve reverting back to a painful sleepless cycle. Sleep is overrated anyway.
Having close ties with family regardless of distance is positively priceless.
It’s official: the candles on my cake have outnumbered Baskin Robbins’ variety of ice cream flavors.
Exactly a year ago, I was 7 months pregnant and sitting in front of many loved ones who were oohing and awing over baby blue onesies and bath toys. This year, I’m sighing because the weekend ended way too quickly and I’m left with another travel hangover.
Now that I’m in my 30s, birthdays seem like just another day. Thankfully, I have a lot of thoughtful friends and family who care enough to remind me of just how much I’m loved.
It’s doubtful that I’ll be unwrapping any presents this year, but if I were to choose the best unwrappable present (besides the ice cream cake) it’d have to be those two smiley guys that make my life make so much sense amidst all the nonsense.
I’m exhausted, busy and so worn out today. It sounds like a typical Monday morning, but it’s not–we’re still baby-less, we just got back from our houseboating extravaganza and I’m packing up for a quick business trip.
Jeff and I had an incredible time floating around, eating, laughing and relaxing with friends all weekend. Though, we barely had one on one time, we had a lot of time just being Jeff and Jen again, as opposed to Jack’s mom and dad who are constantly on call. I highly recommend relaxing weekends to all new parents.
I have yet to unpack our damp bathing suits and towels, but I have one foot out the door as I’m packing another overnight bag with suits and dress shoes. I’m heading out in a few hours for a business trip, so, for the first time since Jack was born, I’ll be without either of my boys. On the bright side, this quick trip will make the time away from Jack go by MUCH faster, which is a definite plus. It’ll be nice to be traveling and doing the journalist thing, especially since I haven’t done much of it since having Jack.
Speaking of Jack, I’ll talk more about him being gone later, but Jeff and I sorely miss him. He’s in absolutely great hands; however, I can’t not think about him. Every time I saw a kid while we were at the lake, I wondered if Jack learned any new “tricks” while he’s been gone. I don’t worry about him in their care, what I do worry about is him losing his sleep routine that has involved months of sleepless nights trying to regulate.
My mom sounded like a broken record by punctuating every conservation with, “don’t worry, he’ll be fine.”
Fine? Of course he’ll be fine.
Now his sleeping schedule? The one that I’ve tried so hard synchronize since returning to work in December? Yeah. That’s so gone—I’m sure of it.
Honestly, as fun as it was/is living with somewhat wreckless abandon, Jack is so much a part of our life that things that were once fun when it was just the 2 of us, just aren’t the same anymore. We both feel so much emptiness without him. And it’s only been 3 days.
More updates as soon as I get back! And for those from the houseboating flotilla, I hope to post pictures by Tues night!
After a week of back to back meetings and deadlines, it’s finally here! Today’s the day I’ve been dreading and anxiously awaiting for weeks now.
Tonight, sometime after we get out of work and finish packing, we’re heading off– but into different directions. As I send Jack off with my parents–for what could be the first of many week-long summer trips to Va.– Jeff and I are packing our citified selves, along with our dusty outdoor gear to go play Jack Sparrow with our friends.
Booze, books and boats–sounds like a day in the life of Jen x 10. Oh, what an interesting weekend it’ll be.
And of course, as if I needed anything else to make me feel guilty about leaving the kid for a week at this age, Jack came down with a fever for the first time yesterday. Jack, who is extra clingy when teething, greeted me yesterday with a half smile, followed by a big barf. He seemed fine all night, but moaned and whined in his sleep, which, as you can imagine, made my heart crumble with guilt.
For months I’ve been telling myself, Jeff and anyone who asked, that WE need this week. As in, Jack needs to “know” Va. just as much as Jeff and I need this time together to unwind. Fortunately for all of us, there are many relatives in Va. just waiting for Jack’s arrival. Fourth of July is synonymous with freedom, and this sort of “freedom,” like the one we’re celebrating, comes with a price.
When it comes down to it, I love our daily routine and cringe at the thought of racing home, only to be greeted by an empty apartment. I’ll miss my baby immensely; I’ll miss our family of 3. I’ll live with this guilt of leaving him for the first time. Being in the position to be able to provide him with the opportunity to get to know our roots, but more importantly, the time to actually enjoy his extended family, will certainly pay its dividends in the end. (my sanity notwithstanding)
As for Jack’s freedom, let’s all cross our fingers that his crying is minimal, sleeps in his crib, stays healthy and doesn’t eat steak and ice cream all week.
Have safe and happy 4th, everyone.
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