Donuts with Daddy

Yesterday was the big day.  For over a week, each and every morning, Cooper has asked “is today the day Daddy comes to school with me?”  I have had to do a daily countdown for him, which I don’t think meant anything to him because the next morning, same thing.

Thursday was the day, and although I offered to drive them both over there and make sure they went through the routine and found everywhere they needed to be properly, D.Jones insisted he could do it all, so off my boys went. 

Turns out, Cooper’s teachers put on quite the Daddy day!  When they arrived, they got a few minutes of play time to chat with the other Dads and kids, and then the kids got little buckets of shaving cream and big tongue dispensers and got to shave their Daddy.  Doug thought it was hilarious because all of the dads were in business attire, some sporting some very, very expensive suits, which then had a bit of shaving cream on them, but no one seemed to mind.

Next, a fireman came to visit and put on all of his gear, including respirator, and the kids got to go check it out.  Doug said quite a few of the kids were not hip on getting near the guy with that respirator on, thinking it was a bit scary, but Cooper ran right up and high-fived him.  Then they all got to go outside and get on the firetruck.

Afterwards, it was donut time, and then the kids showed the dads pictures they had colored on Tuesday of themselves with their dads.  There was a little more play time and then the dads got to walk the kids to the gym to drop them off for the rest of their school day.  D.Jones got to witness Cooper putting the smack down to some boy who thought incorrectly that Coops might be willing to share a toy with him.  Doug tried to intervene, but said he must’ve seemed quite ineffective because the teacher was there within moments saying “no, no, no…we share.”  Funny.  D.Jones said he all of a sudden felt sort of inept, so he just stepped aside.  No matter how old you are, don’t mess with the teacher, right?

D.Jones also asked me the names of the 3 other boys that Cooper hangs out with all of the time.  As I ticked off their names, he nodded “yes” over and over again.  I then said “why do you ask?” and he said “I had them pegged right away.  They are all crazy!”  Seems the birds of a feather adage may just be true.

Anyway, Cooper was thrilled to have daddy there, and I think D.Jones had just as good of a time as Cooper.

What Not to Say to your Pregnant Wife

D.Jones arrives home from work yesterday.  He eyeballs my protruding stomach.

D:  Wow.  You are pregnant.

K:  Ya think?

D:  I mean really.

K:  Seriously?  I thought my hooded sweatshirt kinda camouflaged it.

D:  Yeah, sort of.  Kind of like, if I didn’t know you I’d think you really liked your Old Style.

Nice.

Not Quite As Planned

At noon today I went to pick up Coops from preschool and I was so excited to hear about his costumed field trip.  They had gone to the elderly residence area of a care center to show off their costumes, and I knew his froggy costume would have been a hit.

I stood in the hallway outside of his classroom, looking at the art projects they’d done today after their return from the field trip.  All of a sudden, one of his teachers is standing beside me and says “So…uh, Cooper.”  Oh no.  A blur of all of the shocking and appalling things he could possibly have done in front of the old folks flashed through my mind.

“What happened” I asked, scared for the answer.  Ms. M. tells me that after they arrived at the residence, they all went in to a room where the residents could check out the kids.  Cooper’s costume was, in fact, a hit, and the old folks had sort of circled around a few of the kids, pointing and marveling at their cute outfits.  Apparently there is a limit to the amount of attention Cooper actually seeks out.  Who knew!?  He wasn’t hip on it, I guess.  Ms. M. proceeds to tell me how amazed she was that he maintained his composure, waded his way through the sea of elderly residents, parent chaperones, and numerous other children to find her, at which time he announced “I don’t like this so much, and I wanna go home now.”

Ms. M. asked if he was a little scared by the attention and he nodded in the affirmative.  She asked if he wanted her to step outside in to the hallway with him, and he did.  After getting out of the craziness, he was just fine, so all was well, and Ms. M. told me how impressed she was at his verbal skills and non-melt down.  Awww.  My boy.

She said he was still apparently a little freaked out and asked to sit by her on the bus ride back to school.  She said he sure could, and he not only sat by her, but climbed up in her lap, which is not really like Cooper, so he must have still been nervous.  Not nervous enough, however, to not notice that they were sitting in an emergency exit row and ask Ms. M. why the door looked bigger and different than the main door.  She said “because this door is for emergencies” to which Cooper responded “Well!  I hope that doesn’t happen!”

I was sad that Cooper’s field trip didn’t go quite as planned and that he didn’t have a great time, but I must admit, I was bursting with pride when Ms. M. told me how proud she was of him, and how impressed she was with him…and I admit to having to wipe my eye when she finished up by saying “he’s an excellent little boy….exceptional, actually.”

 

 

Back by Popular Demand

…and the fact that I am pressed for time.  So bullets it is!

-We have a sick Yorkie at the House O’ Jones.  Not sure what’s up with her, but she spent Tuesday night puking her guts out, and has no energy since.  She rarely moves from her curled up post on a throw pillow on the couch.  I’m going to give it another day or so before seeking medical intervention, but hopefully she’s okay.

-Last night I spent my 3 1/2 hours of lecture at school learning about disorders usually diagnosed in infancy and childhood.  Not one of my favorite topics.  I am usually good with keeping things outside of myself when it comes to school topics, but this time, I struggled.  A video of short interviews with parents of children suffering with things like being on the severe end of the autistic spectrum reduced me to tears.  At one point they spoke to a mother whose husband bailed out after their child was diagnosed, and she was required to quit her job to stay home with him.  For 12 to 14 hours per day the child rocks, self-injures by banging his head, and screams a high-pitched wail.  I sit by the same woman each Wednesday and we talk freqently.   I leaned over and said “I feel like I’m going to lose it after a 15 minute temper tantrum sometimes.  How does she function?”  She looked at me and said “My daughter was diagnosed with autism, and OCD.  I sometimes felt like I didn’t sleep for a year.”  I had no idea that she even had a child.  Turns out, her daughter is 20 and just entered a group home where she is doing pretty well.  I felt drained when I left class.  I called D.Jones from the car and said “We are lucky, Doug…we are so, so lucky.”

-Cooper Jones is off to his costume party today at preschool.  After his weird fits about wearing the froggy costume in the car, I finally persuaded him that it was okay if the “googly eyes” touched his car seat and we were off.  Once we got to school he was so pumped about being in costume, that he was randomly running in to other classrooms and high-fiving teachers as he yelled “ribbit!!”  That’s right…once again, our child is by far the most shy kid at school, right?  As we made our way down the hallway to his own classroom, he high-fived parents along the way, giving them “ribbits” as well, and overheard a smaller child say “what’s that green guy?”  Cooper yells down the hall “I’m a froggy…RIBBIT!!!”  That’s my boy.  They are on their way to a health care center where I’m sure he’ll do a good job of amusing some of the patients.  There were other absolutely adorable costumes to be seen, too.  I was bummed that I didn’t get in on the chaperone list for this one.  Another girl in Coop’s class was the cutest little pink cupcake that I’ve ever seen!  I can’t wait to hear about his day~

Here’s a glimpse of the frog on his way to school this a.m.~

And a froggy with a froggy blankie…

Learning Points & Humbling Moments

Since I’ve elected to keep Cooper home from school the latter half of this week due to the crazy number of H1N1 cases at his school, I’ve learned a few things.

1.  I’ve always worried that my son would be smarter than me by the approximate age of 7.   There are a few reasons for this thought process.  One is that he’s been smart since day 1.  One is that my math skills are ridiculously lacking, and I’ve been positive it wouldn’t take long for him to surpass them, and also that he’s half D.Jones’ child, and D.Jones is smart in a way that I’m not.  He’s analytical, extremely detailed, and, well, mathematically inclined.  Double math points against me! 

What I realized this week is that it won’t take until he’s 7.  We may be on the cusp of him leaving me in his dust any time now.

For instance, yesterday I told him we could make those kleenex ghosts that hang from string for Halloween, but that we don’t have any string, so we’d have to go to the store.  Cooper informed me quickly that “Daddy has a roll of twine on the bottom shelf in the garage, just past the recycling.”  He then advised me to put my shoes on before I would go out to look, because the garage “is outside, you know.”  I sort of complied and put on my slippers as I headed out to the cold garage.  Sure enough.  Right where he said it would be.  How bizarre to be directed around, correctly, I might add, by my 3 1/2 year old!  And it got worse.

Later in the day yesterday, we were reading a book about farm machines.  I read something about how a particular tractor mashes up grass to feed to cows, called silage.  I pronounced it “sigh-ledge”, figuring I was close, but my child began fervently shaking his head from side-to-side.  “What?” I ask him.  He says “that’s not right, mommy.  You say it “say-lidge” with him clearly pronouncing it with the emphasis on the first syllable.  What!?  Seriously.  I know it couldn’t have been his father who would’ve told him that!  Was the child a farmer in a previous life!?  Craziness.  I didn’t believe it, so I looked it up.  Sure enough.  He wins again.

2.  Number two is more about being humbled than learning, I guess.  Thing is, I’ve been the chld’s favorite adult since he was born…as it should be as his mother, right?  I figured it would be like that for a while, and then maybe, some day when he plays football or something, he may enjoy his father’s company more.  And then some day after that, we’ll be ousted together in favor of his friends.  Imagine my surprise, not to mention the crazy blow to my self-esteem, when on Tuesday night he accidentally slammed his finger in the bathroom door while getting ready for bed.

I called to him from the living room to come show me his finger, and then made the usual show of hugs and kisses and comforting words…only to have him turn tail and sprint back down the hallway toward D.Jones saying “no…I just want daddy.”  Crushed, I tell ya.

This first blow was followed harshly by his repetitive questions about when daddy will be home from work, if daddy will be home when he wakes up in the morning, and wanting to only play with daddy after we have dinner.  Grrr.

The only vindication was that last night, as I rested on the couch and D.Jones did the bath duty, I heard Cooper tell him in no uncertain terms “You’re not washing my hair right!  That’s not how mommy does it!”  Sweet boy.  Tell him what’s up, Coops, tell him what’s up!

Now that the week is coming to a close, we’ve made our Halloween crafts, we’ve made Halloween cookies, and tomorrow we head to my parent’s house for the annual pumpkin carving competition.  Hopefully Cooper doesn’t have to show me how to hold my knife…

So, how’s your appetite?

I had one of my quickie prenatal appointments set up for Friday morning long before we planned to use that day to road trip to Doug’s Dad’s house in Wisconsin.  It’s nearly impossible to get appointments scheduled with my OB-GYN, so there was no way I was attempting to reschedule, and D.Jones and I decided we’d get the car loaded, and he and Cooper would visit the Bruegger’s Bagel shop on the next block while I went to see my doc.

Friday morning came and I headed over to see Dr. O.  Because my OB-GYN group is affiliated with the University of Minnesota, they are a teaching clinic.   Some of you may recall my genetic counseling appointment a few weeks ago, where there was an intern and a resident in tow?  Anyway, after the initial stuff with the nurse, she says “Dr. O has a med student following her today.  Is it okay if he comes in?”   I say “Sure!” and realize it’s beginning to be old hat.  I really couldn’t care less who wants in on the action at this point.

A few minutes later, I hear something brushing on the outside of the door to my room, and I expect the usual knock and enter, but instead I hear a male voice saying “what if she has lots of questions?” and then good old Dr. O saying “How many weeks have you been following me around!?   Answer them or write them down!”  I’m snickering to myself in the room.  There is another long pause, then a knock.  In walks a  clearly nervous med student who introduces himself as “Matt the med student.”  He asks if I have any questions while we wait for Dr. O., so I, in a fit of meanness, start firing questions at him.  Things like “what are the odds of a doctor nicking my bladder during a scheduled C-section?  How long will they let labor go on in a VBAC situation?”  and finally…”if you could decide for me, which would you pick, C-section or VBAC?”  His voice was a little shaky and his hands were worse.  He made few attempts to actually answer questions, and took a ton of notes.  His favorite answer was “Oh, uh…um…Dr. O. would be better able to answer that for you.” 

Finally, he says that he has a few questions he has to ask me for the doctor.  He obviously forgets them in the next few seconds and blurts out “Um..so, uh, how’s your appetite?”  I smile. “My appetite?” I ask.  He says “oh, uh, that’s not what I was going to ask.  I was going to ask..uh…have you had any cramping?”  I had to try so hard not to start laughing.  It was very cute.

He then excused himself and I could hear him briefing Dr. O on my questions outside of my door.  Then they both re-entered.  Dr. O answered my questions, then said she’d listen to the heart rate, which she couldn’t find.  I pannicked a bit, but tried to remain calm, since she didn’t seem worried at all.  Then she says the words I was hoping to hear…”let’s just do an ultrasound.”  I was so hoping to find out the gender on Friday, but knew there was no ultrasound scheduled until Nov 13th.  I nodded my enthusiastic agreement, and she wheeled in the ultrasound machine, but not before she glanced over at Matt and said “how did you find the heart beat?”  He stammered “Uh, I didn’t do that.”  She rolled her eyes and said “Wow…I was about to be impressed with you that you found it and I couldn’t…but nevermind.”  She smirked in my direction.  I love Dr. O.

She quickly found Baby J. and the heartbeat on the ultrasound machine, and exclaimed at how off she’d been in her attempt, as she was checking low, and Baby J is tucked in ridiculously high.  Ah ha!  He or she has been hiding already.

She then said “Alright baby, c’mon…mom wants to know what she’s got in there so show us the goods!”  Baby J was uncooperative until Dr. O said “well, no luck today” and went to switch off the machine, at which time she says “Oh wait!! It flipped, it flipped!  That’s right, baby!  Show us what we want…” and then laughed as she told me that the baby is moving so fast, she couldn’t get a shot that wasn’t blurred!  So, we did, in fact, have a cooperative baby, but no answers.  Oh well.  Hopefully November 13th we’ll have some news to share.

By the way…how’s your appetite been?

Like a Donut?

Actual conversation had with Cooper enroute to school this morning:

Cooper:  Mommy, I love you so much that I love you like a donut.

Me:  Awww.  That’s so sweet Cooper!  Does that mean that you really love me a lot?

Cooper:  No.  It means I like donuts.

Hmph.  Thanks a lot kid.

A Lesson Not Quite Learned

Tuesday morning I picked up Cooper from school and loitered around a few minutes to say “hi” to his teachers.  I didn’t specifically ask about his behavior, but we did chit-chat for a few minutes and they didn’t say anything so I was surprised when, as soon as I had Cooper in the car to go home, he says “Mommy…I like my new teachers.  They are nice.  One of them got mad at me today, though.”  The remainder of the conversation:

Me:  What?  Why would she get mad at you?

Cooper:  I was being mean, I guess.

Me: To who?

Cooper:  A girl.

Me:  What did you do?

Cooper:  I pointed at her and said “you’re a baby!  You’re a baby!”

Me:  Cooper Jones!  Why would you do that!?  We don’t call people names!  What did your teacher say?

Cooper:  She said, “that’s enough, Cooper.   Please walk away.”

Me:  Did you listen to your teacher?

Cooper:  Yep, I did Mommy.

Me:  Well, that’s good, but I don’t want to hear any more about you calling someone names like that, Cooper.  That’s not nice.

Cooper:  Well, then you’re a baby!

Huh.  Guess that little conversation was a waste of time.

Homework and Strong-Willed Children

Not all at once, mind you.  I’m not talking about my strong-willed child doing homework yet.  He’s only on his actual day 2 of preschool.  What I am referring to is that I already have homework for said school.  First it was the multitude of paperwork assuring them that the kid has gotten his vaccines and that I swear to it, then that the doctor swears to it, and then that he has no allergies.

Now it’s a folder full of paperwork saying it’s okay to take him on field trips, take his picture, post his picture on the website, release rights to his pictures, will allow other family members to pick him up, name them by name, address and phone number, (and be advised they will check I.D., which is a good thing, I suppose), and that I solemnly promise to go over the rules of the school with my child.

Next up, dress the kid like a  cowboy on Thursday (I hope jeans and a plaid polo button-down shirt is good enough), and send him to school next Tuesday with a family photo.  Huh.  I’m not even sure I’ve ever printed an actual family photo and the poor kid is 3 1/2.  I better get on that….

Aside from his schoolwork that is apparently mine, I also have my own.  This semester at school I am taking the first of many classes that actually delve into some of the day-to-day stuff I’ll do if and when I ever become the licensed therapist I am hoping to become.  This class is killer.  We are slowly working our way through the DSM IV, which is the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.  It holds the descriptions and classifications of 297 disorders, and is 887 pages long.  Good times, right?  There are 3 exams in my class, which account for my entire grade.  For each exam, I will first be given a multiple choice/true-false section.  When completed, you return that portion and are given a section of the test that contains the descriptions of real cases presented to practitioners and I am to diagnose the disorder.  When that is completed, the final section of the test contains case studies with the initial diagnosis.  Then, “new information” is brought to light either by the patient or by information discovered, and I am to determine if there is a new diagnosis based on the given information, or if the initial diagnosis is still correct.  I’ll be doing a lot of studying this semester, as well as a healthy dose of praying, chanting, requesting help from spirit guides, meditating and any thing else that may, in some way, shape or form, help me hang on to that 4.0 GPA that I’ve got going.  I’ll need assistance from any sources possible.

I will also need rest.  That is sleep.  It’s an unfamiliar thing in my house lately.  Since becoming a mom, I have realized that I will probably spend the remaining large part of my adult life tired in some way.  Really.  I’m not kidding.  On any given day, I’m tired.  And I’m not that old.  I do, however, have a very strong-willed child in my life who doesn’t so much care for sleep as much as I do. 

Case in point: last night the child awoke at 5 in the a.m.  Padded past our room, his little bare feet making slapping noises down the hardwood floors in the hallway.  D.Jones was awake, which never happens, and he whispered, “was that Cooper going past our room?”  I muttered something that may not be suitable for print, and it was enough of an impetus for D.Jones to go after him.  Which also never happens.  Then I heard the following conversation:

D:  “Hey buddy…what are you doing?”

C:  “Playing.”

D:  “It’s the middle of the night, Cooper.  Let’s go back to bed.”

C:  “No.  I won’t.”

D:  “C’mon Cooper.  It’s waaaay too early to be up playing and plus, you have school today.  Let’s go.”

C:  “I said no!  I won’t.  I’m playing cars and trucks.”

Then I heard more conversation at too low of a volume for me to make out.  It may have been begs, threats, or any combo of the two, but whatever it was seemed to work, because moments later I heard them shuffle back past the doorway, and the child resumed his slumber.  But not for long.

In the meantime, Doug tossed and turned for a remaining half an hour until he decided he’d just get up and get ready for work.  The cat pounced on my back for no apparent reason and then hurriedly ran from the room.  Which woke up the Yorkie in the living room, who appeared at the side of my bed, lunging to try to get up in the bed.  I picked her up, cursing the fact that I knew I’d never be able to resume my precious slumber.  D.Jones decided to have a granola bar for breakfast and accidentally knocked an entire container of Orville Redenbacher kernals from the cupboard, which banged to the counter and landed on the floor with a ridiculous racket.  Then, in perfect timing, ambulances began racing down our street with sirens blaring. 

All of this craziness was enough to re-awaken the boy, who reappeared by my side of the bed and screamed “Mommy!  Let’s go play out back.  NOW!”  Oh seriously!?  This is how I greet my morning?  I rolled over and tried to ignore him, which resulted in him yelling louder and then pummeling me with his Gaga blankie.  So much for rise and shine.  Like I said.  Tired.

A Lot of Firsts

The past week has been full of firsts for the Jones crew.  Cooper had his official first day of preschool at The Berry Patch. 

It was an easy first day for him since he remembered being there this summer, first for Pirate Camp and then for Outdoor Adventures.  I think it worked out perfectly because he already felt at home there, and did great!  He got a glowing first day report from Ms. Michelanne and Ms. Beth, and couldn’t stop talking about how much he loves school on his way home.  Whew…that is so much easier on me than having a babe who doesn’t want to go!

On Wednesdays he now attends The Little Gym of Edina for their Sports Skills class, where he’ll get an introduction to many sports, as well as learning some basic gymnastic strength-building exercises.  For this class, I get to stay and watch the class from a parent viewing area on the other side of some glass windows.  It’s a nice chance to connect with some other moms, two of whom I had a great time chatting with, and it’s so fun to watch him interact with Teacher Tracy and the other kids.  His class happens to be a class of 7 boys, all between the ages of 3 and 5, so he has a riot!  For the first week they covered gym safety rules, played some dodgeball, learned how to do a spring-board bounce and jump up to the vault, how to hang from the rings, how to use proper form when throwing, and do some exercises where they tried to knock a construction cone out of the middle of a circle by using their new throwing skills.  Coops nailed it!  A couple of days later he got the cutest postcard in the mail from Teacher Traci…

Such a great program!  I’m very excited for both of our Fall schools!

And lastly, this morning was Cooper’s first day of Sunday School!   

D.Jones was a little mopey about having to go to church, but once I rounded up my boys and we were on our way, all was well.  Cooper was a little quiet when we dropped him off, which is so unlike him that we were slightly concerned when we sat in church wondering what he was up to, but I was reassured that his teacher was someone I knew from a prior Mommy Group and she has 4 little ones of her own.  If anyone can handle anything that comes up, I knew she could!

When Doug and I left the service to head back downstairs to his classroom we were surprised to not see any kids in the room at all.  Another parent showed up right behind us and said “they must be in large group over here…”  we followed behind.  Sure enough, about 75 kids, all under 5 were in a big carpeted room, learning songs and listening intently to the woman and man running the program.  In usual Cooper Jones fashion, he was seated right up front by his teacher, and was singing right along at the top of his lungs.  The folks running the show were pretty funny (in an appropriately 3-year old fashion) and Cooper was laughing hysterically and having a ball.  Since Doug never gets to see him at school or at the Little Gym, I could tell he was just glowing with pride and really enjoyed seeing Coops in action.

Apparently, at Sunday School, they also made some sort of “bag monster” or at least that’s what Cooper was calling it.  It was essentially a paper lunch bag, stuffed with newspaper, and with little googly eyes stuck to the outside of it.  Somehow, between church and home, which is all of 5 blocks, the googly eyes made it from the bag to Cooper’s face, and he announced as we pulled in to the driveway, “Hey, check out my mustache!”  Huh.  Don’t say he didn’t learn anything today….

If the first week or two are any indication, our Fall should go quickly and be filled with fun~