Jaxson Thomas, member since 2005

Okay, kiddo. So you're one year old now and I am dying over how quickly the year went. Filled with visits to the ER, an insatiable appetite and an unwillingness to sleep, you have made the past year one to go down in the record books.

I love how hard it is to envision life before you. I have memories that I cherish of a happy family of 3, but now that you are here we feel complete in a way we hadn't before. aawwww. That's something you are gonna have to come to terms with -- Moms is a nerd, buddy, but a funny one, so life shouldn't be all that bad for you. heh.

You are so aware of your body: your feet, your hands...your privates. It's cool, though. Your two favorite things in the world right now are balls and music. You throw balls around like you were born knowing exactly what to do with them (an answer to your Daddy's prayers), and your whole body comes to life when your hear music. Any music. I guess that part is me, or maybe it's Ryan, she loves to move too.

Speaking of Ryan, I promise you, there is no other little girl in the world who is going to love you like your sister does. Sure, she pokes and prods, tosses you around and sits on you till you scream, but damn, baby, there is nothing that kid wouldn't do for you. I've never had to ask her more than once to share her food with you -- this, my friend, is huge. She has no desire to bathe alone anymore, and rather than beg to watch tv with me and Dad before bed, she now begs to play with you. I never had a brother (hang on, does Aunt Lea Lea count?), but I know what it's like to share a history with a sibling, and it's the greatest thing in the world. I am so excitede to see each day unfold between the two of you, and although this may not always be the case, you both light up at the sight of one another, and that does my heart somethin' good.

You are ever-so-mischievious, something that tickles me now, but it's only 8:30 am -- check back with me after lunch. You must know how sweet you are, because the moment you hear the word "No", you cock your head, drop your eyes and smile. You suck when you do that. You know full well when you're breaking the rules, as well, my man. You love to cut looks at me as you toddle over to random wall sockets, forbidden doors, the stairs... You have an adventurous spirit, little man, and that is definitely a good thing.

I never understood the bond between mothers and sons -- I've always been fully aware of the Girl's Club, and your sister and I are definitely members -- but this whole Mom/Son dynamic is hitting me completely out of the blue. I'm guessing it has something to do with getting my hands on you while you are sweet and innocent, two traits that most likely will not hang around for too long, especially when the evil minions of hell (aka: GIRLS) come along. You love me so much, it kills. You reach for me and I think, "Okay, now I get it." Although at times the neediness gets to be a bit much for this impatient mommy, I know that it won't last for long, so I'm trying to cherish each needy moment.

Like this morning, you woke up bright and early after a long night of up and downs, and hoping to squeeze one more hour of sleep out of you, I carried you to the twin bed in your room and we snuggled. I didn't get one more minute of sleep, but when you held my hand and patted my face, all was forgiven.

So, Happy Birthday buddy. I know this is a little late, but...you'll get used to that, too.

Things that make you go...

HMMM..... (for you, Shah)

Jax has a new little quirk where he sticks his finger into his mouth with every bite of food you give him, jabbing at the inside of his cheek, and then sucking off everything but the skin (though that, too may soon follow).

In related news, who wants to spin the Wheel of Wellness, or Guess What Jax Has This Week? Okay, here ya go, give it a big push...round and round it goes, where it stops .....oh fuck it. Ear infections? Check. Pink Eye (again? possibly). Check. Allergies? Check. Teething? Don't make me laugh.

As far as Ryan is concerned, it's her nerves that are ailing her.

When asked just 30 minutes ago where she would prefer to have her slumber party with moi tonight (what? all the cool kids are doing it), she selected the pull-out bed downstairs as opposed to Mommy and Daddy's bed. Why?

"Cause Daddy gets on my nerves. He's always pushing me and turning me and just, like, always getting on my nerves. (Sigh) He just gets on my nerves."

God, Shawn. The least you could do when your four-yr-old crawls into bed with you every night is let her do whatever the hell she wants, man. It's not like you have to be up at an ungodly hour or anything. It's not like sleep is a precious commodity not to be taken for granted. It's not like we got the King-size bed for us. Sheesh.

Happy Birthday Lalo!

Mommy: Today is Lalo's Birthday.

Ryan: Oooh. Lalo's old.

Mommy: Whatever, she's the same age I am.

Ryan: (beat) OH MY GOD!! Y'all are all gonna die soon and then who will take care of me?!?!

Just a Little Light Housekeeping

Just a few updates, memos, items to skim over. I am nothing if not tidy ( gossip-wise, that is). Not that any of the following can be construed as gossip, it's just that I can't very well claim that I'm delivering hard-hitting news. Or can I?? (FOX NEWS anyone???)

1) Jax walking? SOOOO Charlie Chaplin, minus the bowler and cane. If his feet turned out any further, he'd be walking backwards.

2) Remember back in the day when I said I'd post pics from our trip to visit Honey & Pappy? Me too! Check them out here.

3) And I've saved the absolute best for last. Looks like BigDaddy & Shawn took a little ride. They claim it was Ryan's idea, but I think they just took her along in a buffer capacity. It was sooo worth forfeiting my ride on the bike just to get a pic of Shawn in that helmet. BTW, you can try to hide your identity Dad, but there is no one else living in that tony little resort of yours who would ride around with a 4 yr old girl and son-in-law. You might as well lift the shield, the jig is up.

Master of His Domain

When it comes to the 1st Birthday, it's all about the cake. Literally.

Leave it to Oprah...

...to bring my worst nightmare to the screaming masses.

In an effort to make amends with myself and my issues, so as to avoid having to watch Ryan battle those same evils, I worked out a little something here.

Basically, what I want Ry to know is this:

Mommy loves herself, no matter how many self-deprecating jokes I make, no matter how many times I gaze "secretly" in the mirror with dread and disappointment, I love who I am because I helped make you and your brother. You guys are so wholly amazing that there is no way that anyone less than wonderful could have conceived you. I know that I had a lot of help from your pop, but I was there, too, and dammit, I deserve a little credit as well.

While I know that I'm not the perfect example of shining self-esteem, I am eased in knowing that God took this knowledge and created your grandmother and aunts; 3 awesome, strong, gorgeous women whom I hope you will spend time looking up to in the same manner that I'm frighteningly certain you will look up to me.

Not one of us is perfect, and we all bear scars of some nature, but we love and we laugh and we live and at the end of the day that's all you can do.

I love you just the way you are, tiny heiny and all.

I HEART Harry Potter

We're watching him right now, and as I see Ryan bringing toys into the living room, an act that is somewhat forbidden -- okay, well, it's technically forbidden, but hasn't actually been enforced as of yet-- I ask her why she's committing said felony.

"We're going to Hogwarts, Mom. I have to be prepared."

Sweet.

That still doesn't touch the remark I got from her when I asked why she didn't eat even half of her lunch at school today.

"I couldn't just eat it all. *EYE ROLL* I'd be as big as a house!"

That's juuuust perfect...

I Need Coffee

I woke up this morning convinced that Hell had frozen over, since it was 7:30am, and no children were screaming, crying, laughing or jumping on top of me -- that, or the kids were having delayed-hangovers from the alcohol they both seperately and secretly consumed on Saturday*.

Then I realized Holy Shit, it's 7:30 , we have to be in the car by 8, GO GO GO!!!!!!

Kids up and dressed, fed, Shawn even made it to the shower, and then we hit a train. Not literally, you understand...

Lots of fun conversation during our traffic stall, including the fact that it was going to cost us over $150 to have Shawn's new trucks keys made, followed by how much better off we'd be if we weren't so fucking retarded as to manage to lose 4, yes 4, sets of auto keys within 3 months. How we've managed not to lose the kids yet was the next subject on the list, but we didn't want to jinx anything, you understand...

Went straight to my training session with the Grim Reaper, and proceeded to bust my ass for the next 2 hours to make up for Saturday (party, cupcakes, beer, beer, beer).

Did I mention it is now 11:14 and I have yet to rendevous with Senor Valdez?

Now I think I just saw Shawn wielding a broom and dust buster, trying to beat Jax to the food on the floor, so I know I MUST be dreaming.

(Dad -- I don't want to post about the party without the requisite pics. Could you get your shit together and send me yours, please????)


*Don't get your panties in a wad: Jax managed to swig some beer before we saw and could grab it from him. Ryan took a sip of Jeff's Crown and coke, thinking it was just regular coke, and imediately began gagging. You see? Now it will be at least 4 more years before she dare try the hard stuff again. Pro-active parenting at it's best.

Favorite New Pasttime

How's this for fun?

Our local grocery store received flood damage in this week's storms, and instead of just closing up, they rallied on, securing staffers to actually shop for the customers.

For once on the other end of the short-order stick, I took advantage and had a little fun, sending several staffers scurrying about looking for precise items, only to inform them as sickeningly sweetly as possible that what they had just spent 15 minutes seraching for was actually the wrong product, and could they please go back, oh and check the price differences while they're back there? Thanks so much.

Masochist? Maybe, but at least I stopped short of sending them to the feminine hygiene section to look for lady-products and "ribbed-for-her-pleasures". And trust me, I was sooo close.

Tiny Heinies On Parade

"Mommy! Listen to what my teacher says at school:
Please sit your tiny heinies on the floor!
Heeeheeehee! Isn't that funny? Will you call me tiny heiny for the rest of my life?"

This was Ryan at 6pm this evening.

Speaking of tiny heinies, now that Jax is "walking", he began experimenting with personal space and the subsequent crossing of at Storytime today. He'd lurch his fat little hamhocks at the nearest warm body, grinnin' away, then dive bomb into said body's arm, shoulder, lap, head, etc...

No accidents here -- this kid is super-intentionally just trying to see exactly how far his cuteness will take him. How can I tell? Oh, I guess the giggling, grinning and farting gave it away. Have I not told you how he has started farting when he laughs? This would be cute, except it just leads to an exhausting circle of laughing & farting, seeing as how our laughing at him leads to him laughing at us, farting, us laughing...you get the idea.

(Although now that I think about it, it may also have something to do with the recent switch from formula to whole milk. While it has lightened our baby-budget load, it's also funkified his diaper loads. They are freakin' wretched. But I digress...)

I'm sad to report that it looks like the sky's the limit on the cuteness-pass, especially since he was able to ellicit the most heart-wrenching emotion from his big sister this afternoon, a mere 5 minutes after she kicked him and said she never wanted to see him again.

Apparently he was trying to climb a chair and knocked it over on top of him, managing to bite his tongue hard enough to draw blood. I wasn't in the room to witness it (MOTY), but Ry was right there giving me the 411 through tears and screams.

"Oh my gosh, Mom! I'm so worried! There was BLEEDED! I saw bleeded in his mouth! He has got bleeded!!!!"

"Ryan, I'm looking at him (from across the room, seeing as how am too lazy to open baby gate and walk to him) and there is no blood. Besides, he's not crying anymore, so he's fine." (MOTY)

"Mom! Please! Just! This! Once! I! Wish! You!Would!Believe ME!!!!!! I'm serious -- there was bleeded in his mouth, I (sob) saw (sob) it (sob), I (sob) promise (hiccup)."

"Okay, Baby. I'll come look closer."

(Huge sigh as I climb over gate -- why unlatch when you can stradle??)

Sure enough, there it was: bleeded on his tongue.

The kid has an 1/8th of an inch of tooth and already he's injuring himself. Couple that with 3 ER vists in his first year of life, and I'm suddenly VERY grateful that we live in walking distance to the hospital.

P.S. Trashing the toys has yet to take effect, but in the name of Spring Cleaning, I will charge ahead! We've already lost Rapunzel, a pig dog, and possibly Ariel (she's "trying" to earn that one back), yet the behavior? No change whatsoever.

Any other suggestions??

Walk This Way

OhMyGod OhMyGod OhMyGod!

Slap my mouth and call me Fred, I just witnessed Jaxson walk across my bedroom by himself, without prompting, without falling, just for the hell of it, 'cause he can, holy shit.

This is, of course, typical Jax. We've been prodding, begging, pleading with him the past couple of weeks to start walking, and while he has managed to show a few baby steps here and there, what he just did was unprecedented in the world of Jaxson Thomas.

And did I mention it like JUST happened? 4:10 pm, to be exact.

Here I was, literally sitting at the computer, wishing something exciting/interesting/funny would happen so I could post something, and VOILA!

I'm just flabbergasted right now. Gob-smacked, jolly-knockered, flat-out amazed.

Now I can't get him to do anything but roll around, but let me just recount the big event step by step.

First of all, let me just say that the whole thing was done while holding my cell phone and a toy barbie wedding cake, and resembled something akin to tight-rope walking.

He stood; confident in his balance, step step step...whhoooaaa...wiggle wobble, hands still up straight in the air, still holding his accessories, and we're walking, we're walking, we're -- uh uh uh uh bam! Mission accomplished.

I do not care even one little bit how boring and lame this may have been for you all to read, I am so hyped up right now -- this means soon I'll be able to stop carrying his chunky ass around everywhere I go!

Can I get an AMEN???

Trash Power

No, the title is not in reference to my Tomball roots.

It is, however, my new motto regarding discipline.

I'm not sure if I'm the Hitler or the Hippie of the Mommy Brigade, but either way I'm so completely fed up with whining, attitude, talking back, messes everywhere, etc.

The fact that yesterday I had my 5th meltdown in as many days (including full-fledged curse words, aka: FUCK, thank you very much) has led me to take drastic measures.

The trash can is now my new best friend. If I have a problem, he is always there to help me fix it. Toys left out again? Trash! Snacks left uneaten? Trash! Clothes all over the floor? Trash! Little girl sassing too much? Trash!

Okay, well maybe not her, but her beloved Rapunzel doll? You better believe it.

I urge any of you out there with young ones, sloppy husbands, etc to become closer acquianted with your Trash Can. He/She just might save your life (and your child's...)

Ryan Remarks, pt. 734

It's only 8 am and already she's slapped two doozies on me.

The first came around 1 am this morning. As a set-up, let me explain the current sleeping situation. Since none of our previous tricks have worked in regards to getting her to sleep the whole night thru in her bed, I have resorted to bribing her with money. I prefer to think of it as "rewarding", but whatever. So, for every night she sleeps the whole night in her bed, she receives a dollar to do what she wants with. Currently, she's "focused" (ha.hahaha) on saving up for a new Snow White Barbie (the only one she does not currently own*huge eye roll*).

So anyway, around 1 am she comes to my side of the bed, wakes me up and says: "Mom, I think I have enough dollies. I'm just gonna go ahead and sleep on your floor now." Who am I to argue with that? What sane person would tell their 4 yr old that they in fact DO NOT have enough toys, and please try to work towards buying another item to junk up the house? Aye.

Then, just 5 minutes ago, after seeing the pic of her and me that I put in her new picture frame, she says, "Mom, I was really wanting to put a different picture in here."

"What picture do you want?"

"One of Daddy."

"Ry, you already have framed pics of you and Daddy."

"But I need another one so I can always remember his face all the days of my life."

This is where I just went ahead and gave up.

The Passion of the Mommy

Shame on me for not posting for such a long time! But don't worry, I've been suffering just the right amount of guilt over it, Thank You Very Much.

Forgive me again, but this particular post needs to be short. Lots to do, not enough time.....

So Jax turned 1 on Friday -- WooHoo! The best part is that he now has his 2 top teeth coming in AT THE SAME TIME -- Woo Hoo, no? not even a Woo? Okay, so he's a little late. I prefer to call it INDIVIDUALITY.

He's also learned to "kiss", which is the cutest damn thing you have ever seen, his little wet slimy mouth coming at you open wide, while he yells "aaahhhh". Ry hates it, "It's all wet!", but Shawn and I just can't get enough.

We spent his birthday in Port Neches, which isn't where I'd thought we'd be doing the One Year Anniversary thing, but our presence was needed, so we complied.

Honey is quite near the end. No good way to say it, and Pappy is alone. So Mom and I took the kids to cheer him up and get at least one last visit with her. It's really too much for me to discuss, so I'm gonna stop now.

The car trip was HORRIBLE, but mostly because Jax is teething. Did I mention that already?

There were some great moments, though, like when Jax up and slapped the EMS guy who was holding him at the nursing home, oogling over his cuteness. Then there was the incredibly massive, Disney-stature playscape castle that Mom and Pappy took Ryan to play in (pics to come). Finally, we ended with my kiddos dancing around to Pappy's band playing "Big Mamou" (sp?) - you know, the Cajun theme song - at the local KofC Fish Fry. At least they've got the blood in there somehwere.

Easter Bunny has delivered cheap Walgreens gifts, complete with confetti eggs which I now have to go clean up.

Happy Easter!!!!

Dear Mother-In-Law,

You know how I'm always making fun of you and your weird hippie obssession with Austin's Bat colony?
Um, well, sorry.
Now that I've apologized, could you help me develop a similar (smaller) colony in my backyard? To take care of the mosquitoes? You know, 'cause apparently Jax is allergic. To mosquitoes. In Texas.
That'd be great, thanks! Your Fave (okay, only) D-I-L

Found out this valuable little nugget of info today after waiting hours in the ER, praying he was not suffering from a Brown Recluse bite. Hey, when you're up against that possibility, you'll take an allergic reaction to mosquito bites any day.

BTW? 2nd ER visit for Jax in the past 4 days. He spiked a 103.5-ish fever Saturday afternoon. Just a dual ear infection, no real reason to have to drive 30 minutes and pay $100. Especially since there was nothing we could do about it that we hadn't already be doing.

Kinda like today only with extra mileage.

Yeah, this should be fun

Have I ever told you the story where Amy plays a working Mom to a toddler, and out of a deep desire to spend time with her baby, quits her job and becomes a SAHM? Fun and games ensue; so much so, that Shawn and Amy decide they want to throw another monster into the mix, thus birthing Jax.

Cut to one year later, as Jax plays and I clean; the Happy Little Homemaker, revelling in these, the real Days Of Our Lives, I stop and think about how this is the type of day I've been dreaming about: an ordinary day at home, just me and Jax, bonding, mopping, and making the world a better place. No doctor's appointments (well, there was the one, but it was so early it doesn't really count), no Ryan (KDO), though we do miss her-- just me and him together.

As I mop the floor, thinking of how this is the kind of stuff I missed with Ryan when I was working, I go to check on him in the playroom, and there he is, putting one of the baby gate's wall hooks into an open electrical outlet. Before you begin with the judging, he takes the cover-things off, and actually pulled the wall hook out of the wall. On his own.

Then as I'm cleaning the windows, I walk into the kitchen to find him with the over-turned trash can, eating cereal from the garbage.

In between all that, I spent a majority of the time chasing after him as he raced up the stairs.

You know, those hard-wood 14ft high ones.

You really haven't lived...

...until you've wakened your children at 5 am to take Daddy to have his colonoscopy done. No amount of sippy cups, dvd's, binkies and random bribes could get those kids to sit quietly for 5 straight minutes.

All I could think about were all those poor people coming in to have this procedure done, attempting to stay calm while my kids run, scream, jump and cough all over the place. I could see I was getting furtive glances from many a patient, but no one dared say a word to me -- that is, not until they saw me packing up our stuff to walk the kids outside. Then it was all, "Can I help you with that?"

My favorite part was in the recovery area, where flanked by bursts of flatulance, Ryan felt the need to keep a running commentary: "Oops! Somebody FARTED! Stinky! OOh! There's another one..."

I still can't understand why she and I were the only ones laughing...

When Junior Mommy-Divas Attack

So today Ry was bummed about not being able to go play b/c of her "illness" (whatever it may be). She stomped defiantly, declaring, "How will everyone be able to tell me how cute I am if I can't leave the house? They will be so sad!"

This coming from the daughter of the woman who used to skip classes in college if I didn't like the way I looked. Freud?

I gave in and took them on a walk (Ry pushed her Barbies in her stroller; I got stuck with Jax). Halfway through, after breathing as deeply as friggin' possible through 7 tantrums, 4 squeals, and 3 dirt-kicks, I exerted my Mommy Authority and declared we were turning around and going home, to which Ryan declared, "Fine! I don't love you anymore! You are the worst Mom ever!!!"

Then, she ran her mini-Graco right into my ankles.

Between that one and Mr. Incredible Rolling Baby, I may need a wheelchair sooner than I thought.

More Reasons I'm Not Fit To Be A Mother

Another ear infection, another mysterious disease, and a perforated eardrum thrown in just for kicks.

I'm thinking of having "SICK & TIRED" stenciled on our foreheads, but I'm afraid it will take something away from our "cuteness" factor. What the hell, if the high-pitched screaming and whining doesn't do it, nothing will.

Humor Injection of the Day: Ryan decided to name the Civic "WalMart", which when you think about it, is actually quite fitting: Both are well-used, cheap, and perpetually dirty.

Your Wait Has Ended

So as we were waiting for the garage mechanics to figure out how much money they would try to steal from us, I walked the kids over to get their hair cut. Check out the new 'dos:
















Not even SuperCuts can mess up God-given perfection.

The sad, sad look on Shawn's face at seeing Ryan's new grown-up look was a little like this:












Not to be confused with Jax's "I just got scolded, and now I'll make her pay" look:












Speaking of making me pay, I'm THIS close to writing to SuperNanny about the way Jaxson just won't


stop
crying!!!


We have NO idea what his issue is. Obviously he comes from a loving, nurturing household. Why the hell won't he STFU??




One of my theories is that he's a little frustrated with his paradox of a father. As seen here in Evidence A -- Shawn, Mr. "I am MAN. ARGH ARGH ARGH", caught playing with a BARBIE.










What's a little boy to do?
"I just can't quit you, Dad!"
(Sorry, couldn't stop myself)

Granted, I'm sure I could be a little better in the "Mother" department. I suppose I could stop letting him smoke the MaryJane. At least not before breakfast.

"Uploading pics. Please wa----"

Nothing like getting to the very end of a long-overdue picture post, only to have your 7 yr old computer (that's 49 years in computer-life) shut down on you. that's 30 minutes of my life I'll never get back, and now I have to go do the Mom thing, so the pics will have to wait. Check back this evening, unless I've destroyed this damn thing, which isn't quite such a far-out possibility.

Embracing My Inner (Christian) Diva

Who knew that turning 29 would bring out my bitchy side even worse than before?

I was at church today -- alone. again. -- and was lucky enough to have the World's Most Annoying Man sit right behind me. He was there with his young son, and at first I assumed his wife must be home sick or in bed, but after sitting in front of him for 5 minutes, I quickly realized she either refuses to be seen with him in public, or has left him, either reason very likely in my *christian* opinion.

First he begins by just plain talking loudly, but it was before mass had begun, so I *christian-like* let it slide. Then his mom showed up, and he really pissed me off.

The woman had barely crossed herself, before he starts going off about the LSU game the night before and how glad he was that they didn't win, blah, blah, blah, which really made me mad, 'cause Tiger blood runs in the fam and all. I don't think it would've been quite so excrutiating had he not been the biggest dork the Good Lord ever put on the Earth, sporting shorts and Tivas. At church. Here I am, lookin' all pretty and shit, and this yokel can't bring himself to wear long pants in the house of the Lord. Some people.

Asswipes, I can deal with. Goobers-as-asswipes? not so much.

So after putting up with the unbearably loud, grating conversation for about 15 minutes, I resisted the urge to turn around and scream, "Are you fucking kidding me?" (cause that really wouldn't be What Jesus Would Do), and instead just oh-so-slightly glanced at him over my shoulder socialite-style, which shocked the hell out of me because I had no idea I had such power of retstraint in me (see, I have grown up), and because it actually worked. Sort of.

From that point on, he was reduced to an annoying, grating WHISPER, which I guess I could have tolerated had Mass not already begun. For the Love of God, shut the hell up.

Then he starts intermittently whispering praise to his son, "Way to go Buddy. I'm really proud of you. You're doing great.", which I'm assuming was in reference to the kid's ability to keep his mouth shut, a feat I too applauded, seeing as how the kid had a shitty-ass role model and all.

Then people's babies started crying, and I totally went into Judgemental Christian mode, wondering why the hell these people don't use the nursery, that's where I left my crying wonder. Some people are so self-centered.

I finally just got up and walked out after they took up the collection, b/c according to THE CHURCH, if you've given money, then you're not really required to stay any longer and all is forgiven.

This whole 29-years-old thing is gonna be a cakewalk. Really.