Jamison and his midnight tantrums...

I am sure that any parent can relate to toddler tantrums. Fortunately Jamison isn't too bad. I can almost always talk him out of a tantrum but even better I am great at avoiding them in the first place. I like to set him up for success in that department. When I am fast asleep, however, I am unable to prevent them let alone talk him out of one.

Jamison's latest obsession is cars. Not just any car. Not a Tonka Truck or any other plastic car. It has to be small and metal. He has never formed any real attachment to a teddy bear, blanket or stuffed animal. Oh wait...he has as of lately been totally needing "daddy's pilwo" to sleep. It all started because once in our bed he shares his daddy's pillow with him but now he wants that pillow even when he is in his crib for naps or during the first hour or two of night time before we bring him in our bed. Okay back to my topic. Cars. So Jamison has never formed any real attachment to a teddy bear, blanket or stuffed animal (with the exception of "daddy's pilwo"). Somehow he has become attached to his little metal cars. It really doesn't matter which one as long as he has one in his hand, day or night, he is happy. Sounds simple enough except for the night part. Especially in the middle of the night or early enough the birds aren't chirping yet. Being woken up to your son screaming "hold the car" is not pleasant. It is even worse when you say "Jamison, go night night" and he begins screaming even louder and more hysterical "hold the car"

Finding a little metal car the size of a lime in the middle of the night is not easy, which is why we didn't try. Instead Rob sternly said "Jamison go night night or you will go night night in your crib". I know, I know it is a threat but really neither one of us was interested in searching the house for one of the three cars he loves. So Jamison screamed louder. After trying to convince him he can have his car in the morning with no luck Rob had had enough, he picked him up and took him to his crib. He put him in the crib fully prepared to pat, or rub his back to calm him. There was no need. He stopped crying almost immediately. As Rob looked inquisitively wondering why the sudden change of attitude he noticed Jamison had found that car he so desired right there in his crib. So Rob picked Jamison back up, brought him back to bed and we all slept for the rest of the night.

The trick with Jamison. If he falls asleep with a car in his hand he damn well better wake up with one in his hand too. Day or night it doesn't matter. So if we tell him to put his "truck" away before bedtime the problem is solved.

My son's creativity blows my mind and makes me wonder where mine went. With each bite one piece of toast goes from a truck, to a boat, then an airplane, and finally a chicken. It evokes laughter in me just to watch the transition. The funny part is that he genuinely believes his piece of toast is actually each of the above mentioned nouns. He grabs his toast, takes a bite, looks at it and loudly exclaims "a truck" as though he can't believe his eyes. 'What is a truck doing right there on my plate? How wonderful,' he must be thinking.

I remember being young and having all kinds of daydreams, maybe too many as I often zoned while at school. Where did that go? At this point in my relationship with my son I am being inspired to try and regain some of my youthful imagination.

Update ( I know totally unoriginal)

It has been way too long since I last posted and Jamison has done way too many cute things I am not sharing with my family. It is a shame I am unable to remember them all but just minutes ago he did something I just couldn't resist sharing. I actually got it on video so I will keep it short before moving onto the other noteworthy things he has done. The following video shows Jamison lining up his truck and his giraffe with obvious intent. I, however, was unsure exactly what his intention was so I continued to watch with pleasure as moms often do. With the giraffe on one side of the couches arm and the truck on the other side the scene was set up just perfect for Jamison. Then it happened. What he had been planning on. He took the truck, backed it up into the giraffe then quickly and lovingly grabbed his giraffe to nurse it. You'll have to watch the video!


Now I shall continue to purge all the other things Jamison has done or does to make us laugh.

Lets start with the fact that he no longer calls his Radio Flyer Sports Coupe his "car" it is now his "truck" and he won't let you call it his car. If you try he corrects you.

Okay so this one is a little bit personal and Rob just might request I remove this. So if you are reading this either Rob has allowed it to remain or you are lucky enough to read it before a request to have it removed. I don't give my blog address out to many people so I feel comfortable sharing this. Jamison was on the toilet pooping and he began playing with is foreskin. It was obvious he was focusing on just that particular part of his penis so I said to him "that is your foreskin" he replied with "daddy foreskin" which is typical Jamison talk since anything new to him is often followed with "daddy _____" fill in the blank, "cookie" or "elbow" etc. I jokingly corrected him with "daddy doesn't have a foreskin, he lost it in a tragic accident...poor daddy" (side note to my in laws, I was joking with my description. I nor Rob are upset about the loss of his foreskin. Okay now this is getting weird and funny.) The next day Jamison was doing his daily poop again and started tugging at his foreskin. I didn't say anything this time as I was in my own world patiently waiting for J to finish up and debating whether or not to get him a magazine. Less than a minute into his exploration he got a sad look on his face, looked at me and said "poor daddy" I busted up laughing and also realized my "tragic accident" joke might have been taken too seriously.

Speaking of sitting on the toilet Jamison was down stairs with Rob "helping" him iron while I was upstairs. When Rob was done ironing Jamison comes running upstairs calling for me. "Maaaaaaaaawm" I hear him yell from the living room. "MOM" he yells again. When he found me he grabs my face by placing one hand on each cheek and very seriously says "poop". He had said nothing about needing to poop to his dad and specifically went looking for me so I could assist him. It is really cute because although he has been potty trained with poop for several months now it is only when I am with him. He poops in his diaper most of the time when with his babysitter and his dad.

Now leaving the potty topic, the other day we were all laying in bed one morning after everyone was awake. Or rather after everyone was woken up by J. Anyway, Jamison was happily pointing out his dad's body parts. "Dad's belly" "daddy's leg" and finally "Dad's big arm". I wish he could point out my body parts and emphasize "small" when he gets to my belly!

So I have caught up as best I can. Unfortunately I am missing so many laughs Jamison brings into our life. I suppose I should blog more often but with all that is going on in my life I rarely have time and if I do get time to myself I am usually doing mindless things like surfing facebook. Nothing near as constructive as writing.

Oh and on a personal note I am officially accredited as an LLL leader! I have worked hard to gain a huge amount of knowledge about breastfeeding and even communication to help and assist mothers and babies of Utah. I have accomplished a goal that does not reward me with a degree or a paycheck but is not any less important to society. I feel both excited and prepared. It is more than just being able to help women and babies. That of course is at the root but it also goes deeper than that for me. All my goals I have worked hard for have been as a student or in my career. This to me represents accomplishing something without the reward of a degree and\or money but with a deeper purpose. It defines me beyond my career, which is something I have struggled to let go of, or rather, put on hold. It gives me more facets of who I am beyond things that I have used to traditionally define myself. It solidifies that I can accomplish so much beyond what is measurable with a degree, title and paycheck.

For Valentine's day I told Rob I wanted to go to Zion. That is it. I like trips to Southern Utah for birthdays, anniversaries, our honeymoon etc. Any holiday is a reason to head to Zion / Southern UT in my opinion. Anyway, back to Valentine's day. We left J with my parents and went out to eat at Parallel 88, an amazingly tasty and painfully expensive restaurant. The thought of getting Rob a card never even crossed my mind. Oops, I've been known to space our anniversary or get birthday dates wrong, that is just me. Luckily, Rob loves me for who I am, furthermore he happens to make sure I don't feel guilty for forgetting such things by, well, forgetting them himself. On the way to SU he said to me, "I forgot to get you a card, I hope you don't mind" I couldn't help but chuckle because that moment was the very first moment the mere thought of a Valentine card even entered my mind. I sighed, as I thought how perfect my husband and I are for each other.

There is something called the 5 languages of love (I think it is five). Anyway, the idea is that there are different ways that people prefer to receive and give love. One of those ways is through gifts. Not superficial, I want lots of diamonds and pretty things gifts, but loving considerate type gifts. No matter what kind of gift, that language of love is certainly not my language and fortunately not Rob's either. There is no shortage of affection, just a shortage of cards, flowers, etc. but to us that is no shortage at all. I'm not sure what our love language is but we are certainly speaking the same one! Happy Valentine's (a little late) but hey, it is just like me to forget the day altogether.

ABCs

Yesterday Jamison was singing something that I was unable to make sense of. After paying close attention I was able to hear him saying something like "B, T, B, D, E, B, B, T, E C, song" then it hit me! He's singing the ABCs!! Or at least trying to. Note: there is only audio.

Pee Underwear!

Since Jamison seems pretty sure he wants to be potty trained I decided to get him underwear. He poops in the potty consistently so I am not worried about dealing with poopy undies just pee ones. Jamison picked out some underwear with cars on them and I picked out the more practical white ones with slight padding for pee accidents. We were both happy. Although he wants to wear his undies all the time I only let him wear them when we are home and he is awake. So the first day, the first time with underwear. He excitedly picks his car underwear over the more practical option I wanted him to choose.


We put them on and he refuses to wear his pants. I can't say that I blame him. Why cover those cool briefs up? After one pee pee in the toilet things are going great! Then a couple hours later while looking out the window he starts jumping from one foot to the other whining "mommy". I knew immediately what had happened. I walk over to him and tell him he is fine and that he just peed but because he is in underwear it gets him wet. I jokingly told him he had "pee pee undies". I take his undies off, he is quick to point out his sock is wet too. I take them off as well and he runs to the potty. He sits on it but he, of course, no longer needs to go. We get him off the potty and he insists on putting underwear on again, this time I talk him into wearing the white ones.


The rest of the day was uneventful. When daddy got home he was so excited to show his dad he was in underwear! When I asked him to tell dad what kind of underwear he had Jamison replied "pee underwear" I expected "car underwear" but the former was more funny!

Puppy?!?

Do we dare get a puppy?

Rob wants a dog, Jamison wants a dog and well, mom has some reservations. I still miss my old dog. It will be a year on February 5th that we lost her. I always wanted a rescue dog from the pound. I have even been a couple times but nothing clicked. Now out of no where my sister in law has a puppy she rescued at her veterinarian clinic. The puppies came in, all of them dying. As the bill rose the owner decided to let them die. My sister in law however was not willing. She volunteered her time and money at the clinic to fight for the dogs. Two survived. A white one and a brown one. Rob and I were sent an e-mail asking if we would be interested in taking on of these boxer puppies if they survive. I was adamant about NOT taking one. Rob on the other hand kept an open mind. By the sound of the e-mail it didn't seem like the pups would survive anyway so I didn't say much. As time went on the girls got stronger and here we are trying to decide if we are ready to pick up poop again. Rob is positive he wants one and I suppose I will "allow" it as it almost feels as though these dogs chose us. Hmmm, will we get the brown or white one? I didn't want a puppy, I didn't want a purebred and here I am on the verge of accepting a rescue dog that is a pure bread, boxer puppy.

Potty training!

Poop picking up!

Vet appointments!

Obedience classes!