Transformation

I finally completed another semester of school and have hit the halfway mark - yes, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. I wrapped things up last week and spent Thursday and Friday sitting at home with Jack, in awe of how much he has changed in the last month.

Somehow while I was tucked away behind books and computers he went from scooting and crawling to pulling up and trying to stand on his own. He went from saying "da-da-da-da-da" all the time to babbling all kinds of combinations including my personal favorite "ma-ma". He loves to sit and read to himself or sing songs and clap his hands. Instead of drinking bottles during the day he prefers a cup of milk or juice, throwing it as far as he can to let us know when it is empty.

It is just amazing to me how quickly these changes occur. And while I am ready to welcome them all, I still miss the little boy that would sit nesteled in my lap each day, content to hold my hand and soak in everything I showed him. Now it is he that shows me things, pointing at everything, asking what it is without knowing the words, reminding me of the joy of discovery. I am so thankful for this time with him. So thankful that I get to learn so much every day. So thankful that I get to be a teacher for this child. And so hopeful that I can remember how he is every day, because with each new discovery he changes yet again.

Sigh....

So I feel that I should preface this post by saying that Jack is a wonderful baby. He is genuinely good, rarely cries, usually sleeps well, and always has a smile on his face. But even with all of that, there are times when this is HARD. Times when I feel so exhausted I just want to curl up in bed and never leave. But I do. For him. And for Robert. And I guess for me. :)

This semester seems to be hitting me harder than the previous with Jack. It was honestly easier to get school work done while recovering from a delivery that left me in bits and pieces with 50 stitches to mend. Because back then the boy was sleeping. And when he was awake he was, you know, NOT MOBILE. This semester I can't seem to get any work done at home, but when I am away I feel guilty for many different reasons. And while I'm not ashamed to admit the difficulty of being a mom, a student, and part-time employee, something about admitting how hard it is makes me feel like I am complaining. My life is so full in so many ways, and it makes me so happy. I appreciate every moment I have with Robert and Jack, but finding the balance between home and school/work is not easy. Some days I feel like there is nothing left of me for myself.

I realize this is compounded right now with Jack teething. During the day he is pretty much normal, but at night he wakes up every hour, crying until you hold him, waking again as soon as you put him down. We have tried pretty much everything to no avail. What works one night doesn't work the next and so forth. Robert and I are both about to crack. That's one thing about having an easy baby...you get used to your sleep and your schedule, and when that's off it knocks everything out of whack.

I continue to remain optimistic that tonight will be the night he sleeps again. That tomorrow I will cross just one thing off my to do list that is growing by the minute. That if I can make it through November I will finally get a rest. A relief. And some time to enjoy my family and hopefully return to the wife/mother they enjoy.

From creepy crawly to...

Sadly, the word that keeps coming to mind is demon spawn. But most of you probably wouldn't approve of me calling my son that. And of course that is an exaggeration, but my goodness! This child is changing waaayyy to fast for me to keep up. He went from curious, exploratory crawling to all out mischief in no time. On Saturday I had him in the office and he figured out how to stand up (YES, I said STAND UP!!) by leaning on the step up into the kitchen, and then proceeded to climb up the step and start crawling away. Granted I was watching and would not have let him get hurt, but it was yet another reminder that we cannot take our eyes off him for a second now.

Later on Saturday, I had to put him in his crib to clean up from a dirty diaper gone wrong, and he figured out how to pull up to standing using his crib rail. Needless to say Robert had the screwdriver out dropping the crib down to the lowest level real fast! After those two instances though, it was like a whole new world was opened up to Jack. Now we can't sit in the living room without him crawling around to all the furniture and pulling up on it. And while this is so, so exciting, it is so, so SCARY for me. I wind up not sitting at all, but instead scuttling along behind him in fear that he will, gasp, FALL.

I think the greatest part for Jack though is the amount of options it has opened for him. Tonight Robert left the living room to make supper, and Jack decided to tag along, crawling his way to the kitchen. I followed after he rounded the corner, and the grin on his face when he looked at me, like "I did this all by myself" was priceless. While we ate dinner he amused himself by crawling back and forth across the threshold to the kitchen and the hallway, peeping in the doorway at us and laughing.

And with all these exciting developments, I almost forgot to talk about Halloween! Jack went as The Flash, with Robert wearing his Flash shirt as well. He was so cute in his little costume! And he was a suprisingly good sport about the whole thing, even with getting lugged around and shown off all day. We didn't do the trick-or-treat thing but we did go to a family party and Jack got to play with all his cousins in costume. I should have pics on Flickr soon, though that is all dependent on finding time away from little man to get anything done.

Babyproofing tips are much appreciated. Right now I'm thinking padded floors, padded furniture, padded everything is the best option.

Creepy Crawly

Well, we have reached another developmental milestone. Jack has finally figured out how to crawl. I have been watching for the past month as he slowly put all the pieces together, and last weekend he got up the nerve to test it out. He was a bit timid at first, but we sweetened the deal by piling up all the cell phones, remotes and keys we could find about three feet away from him. In retrospect this may have been a bad idea, because since he realized he could actually move wherever he wanted to whenever he wanted to, there has been no stopping him. He has already crawled to the t.v. stand, opened the cabinet door, and pulled out all our old nintendo games. He also pulled out all of the speaker wire that Robert had painstakingly hidden under the front of the fireplace, wrapped himself up in it, and attempted to crawl away. (I will admit I actually watched this scene, it was too comical to stop him!) He is so cute scuttling across the floor getting into trouble.

In other developments, he is starting to realize that his voice can be used for more than cooing happily all day, and he wants to show us constantly. By whining. And whining. And whining. All the time. Time to change his diaper? Whining. Making his meal too slowly? Whining. Finished with the meal too fast? Whining. Removing him from the cabinets/wires/tables he is constantly trying to get into/under? Whining. I feel like I have gone from the happiest little boy in the world to a possessed child who's sole purpose in life is to drive me insane. There is only one whiner in this family. And it is me. I try to hard to talk it out, even though he can't always understand me, or to divert his attention to something else, but I won't lie, I have caught myself whining back at him on more than one occasion.

Other than the constant whining as the background music for our lives, things are going great. Robert and I celebrated our 4 year wedding anniversary earlier this month, and we have managed to enjoy some family outings even with all the insanity of school. Just yesterday we took Jack to a pumpkin festival and up to Point Park to watch the sunset - hopefully I'll have pics up soon.

Next on the horizon...searching for childcare centers....

Tuh-Duh!

I feel the need to write but I don't feel like there's anything to write about. I know, I know, I'm a new dad and Jackson is a wonderful son so there should be an unlimited supply of wonderful things to write about right there. Well, that's not so much the case. He's a good kid. That's about it. When you have a good kid, there's not too much to say. He eats well. He is a great and imaginative player. He gets a little grumpy when he's tired, but who doesn't? I mean, if he were some kind of demonic hellspawn that created a new, inventive way to torture his mother and father every day, I would write all the time. But, unfortunately, I was given a wonderful baby boy. Darn the luck.

So, what has been going on with Jack lately? Well, he is definitely an explorer. When he wakes up in the morning, he doesn't start crying or pitching a fit. He simply sits up and plays with his penguin or his Pooh (bear, not feces). He's also been pulling himself up on things and I am very proud to say he's pulled himself all the way up to a standing position. I think he'll be walking in the next month or so even though he hasn't even though of trying to crawl yet.

That's about it. So, if you were wondering, you've been updated. If you weren't, then you just received a lot of useless information. The whole point of this was to say that I haven't really done anything worthy of story writing as of late because, even though it doesn't sound like it, I've been too caught up in mentally cataloging the genesis of one of my favorite tales, Jackson's story. I mean, come on, wouldn't you get caught up in watching this little guy?


(guiltless exploitation of my son's cuteness)

Happy Birthday to Me

My birthday was Sunday and I got the best present ever - two front teeth! That's right, Jack sprouted both of his bottom front teeth seemingly overnight, and is now chomping away like a big boy. We were honestly taken by surprise that the teeth were there, because he had gotten shots on Thursday and when he was a little fussy we just thought it was because of that. So when I stuck my finger in his mouth on Sunday, it was definitely a shock to feel something sharp in there!

The rest of my birthday was great as well. We took Jack to the Hunter Museum and found out that he has an odd connection to art from before the 1800's. I really thought he would like the modern art, but he could have cared less about it. But put him in front of a portrait of George Washington and he will happily stare at it all afternoon, even laughing at how "funny" it is. And my wonderful husband was sweet enough to let me sleep in THREE mornings in a row, which was just plain awesome. It even motivated me to clean the house some. Some.

But I would have to say my favorite part of my birthday was picking Jack up out of his crib this morning and getting three kisses from him. He is just learning this whole kissing thing, so it is a real privilege to get one. But when he woke up this morning and I went in to pick him up, he grabbed my face and planted one on me. Then he started laughing, grabbed me again and kissed me twice more before burying his face in my neck. It was one of the sweetest moments I have ever experienced.

I have to say that 27 feels like it is going to fit me. I don't want to jinx the year or anything, but it feels like a good age. Even though life is crazy with juggling school and work and home, I feel more pulled together than ever, and so wonderfully settled with my family. I couldn't ask for anything more and I just hope time will slow down enough for me to soak some of this happiness in before another year goes by.

6 months (again)

Little Robert
Originally uploaded by bedlam2317

It's hard to believe that 6 months have already come and gone. It's weird, too, because I still see him as a fragile little baby and then I look at the MILLIONS of pictures his mother and grandfather have taken of him and see how much he's changed. There are so many subtle changes that appear every day. Whether it's his body getting longer, or his cheeks getting fatter, or the fact that he has cankles. Seriously, monstrous cankles, it's insane.
But more than the physical changes that seem to go unnoticed from day to day, it's the capabilities his acquired and the behaviors he's learned that really open my eyes to what an amazing and rapidly growing son I have. He knows his name, or rather names. He knows to look at someone when they say either, Jack, Jackson, or son. He's learned how to sit up on his own, how to roll around, how to roll his tongue. He recognizes family in pictures. He responds to familiar voices on the phone. He's amazing.
Most importantly, though, he's learned to say "da-da." Jack will sit there, either on the floor surrounded by toys, or in someone's lap, and just say "da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da" over and over and over again. It's truly glorious. I don't know what it is about name recognition, but it just makes me feel good to hear my child call out my name (and yes I know he's not really associating that sound with me, but I don't care. It's still awesome).
I must admit that I'm a bit anxious for the next coming months. I know most parents would want to slow things down and soak up every moment with their child, but I can't help finding myself wishing he were a little bigger and we were at the next big milestone. I just can't wait for the next new experience to see his reactions. I always try to imagine what the world looks like through his eyes. I love this boy.

Six Months

Happy hiker
Originally uploaded by bedlam2317

Saturday we celebrated Jack's six month birthday. It is so hard to believe that he has been in our lives for half a year. In some ways it feels like time has flown by, and that he just got here yesterday. But it also feels as if he has been here forever, that our lives never really started until he came into them, and that things are just naturally complete with him.

8 years ago, before Robert and I "officially" started dating, he picked me up and took me to see the sunrise, at my request. Unfortunately, he didn't really know a good place for us to watch the sunrise, so we wound up basically in the middle of a forest with no real view of the sun as it rose into the sky. However, it was on this particular occasion that he finally got up the nerve to ask me out on a date, making the event one that I will always cherish, regardless of the view.

The morning after Jack was born he and I shared a similar sunrise. Looking out the window of the hospital room, before any guests arrived or his father awoke, we watched the sun rise through the trees and buildings outside the hospital. It certainly wasn't the most picturesque of scenes, but it is one that I will never forget. Holding my son as the world awoke for the first time with him in it was more special and beautiful than anything I could have hoped for in my life.

And somehow, every day since has managed to be more wonderful than the last.

He amazes me constantly by learning new things or showing me a new facet of his personality. I can already see that he is tender and caring like his father, and he definitely has a sense of humor. He studies people just as I do, and he seems to understand our basic emotions by our expressions and actions now. He also models behavior like crazy. I can make a noise or a facial expression one time, and a few days later I'll notice him practicing it.

Six months. Looking back six months ago, I can't imagine how I woke up without going to him, seeing his arms outstretched, ready for me to hold him. I can't remember not hearing his laughter and seeing his smile every day, making even the most difficult days bearable. Most of all, I can't think of our family without him. To be cliche, he completes us. And each day we have with him is a day of blessing and hope.

Monkey talk

Monkey talk
Originally uploaded by bedlam2317

I learned something new about my husband. He has an uncanny ability to communicate with animals. I honestly don't know how he does it, but I'm calling him the BeastMaster now.

He somehow managed to get this chimpanzee to come over to us at the zoo, and he sat down right in front of Jack and just looked at him. It was really neat to see Jack observe him and try to interact with him. I think his favorite animal at the zoo was this crane that was brightly colored. It would walk over near us and Jack would start shrieking with excitement.

I love seeing things through his eyes, and I can only imagine what he thought of all the animals.

The knowledge of what's ahead

Robert and I went to Six Flags yesterday, and we learned several things.

1) Going to Six Flags the weekend after school starts is really smart. There were like no lines. The only down side was how HOT it was.

2) We are OLD. I used to insist on arriving at amusement parks before they opened, so I could be the first to run through the gates and get in line for my favorite ride. I would drag Robert from coaster to coaster all day, nonstop until they stopped all the rides. Yesterday, we meandered our way down to Atlanta, arriving at the park a leisurely two hours after it opened. We made it through four rides before giving in to exhaustion and stopping to eat. Eating was apparently a bad idea because one coaster later we were both sick and had to take yet another break. Somehow this break wound up lasting an hour, as we sat on a bench, too hot and tired to move, instead happy to sit there and people watch. We made it through a couple water rides and a few more coasters before finally admitting that we were exhausted, and we actually left the park before it closed - I never do that!

3) Jack is what makes things fun for us now. Don't get me wrong, we had a great time together and we definitely needed a day to ourselves, but we both found ourselves talking about what it will be like when we can bring him. I kept pointing out the kids areas, like the Thomas the Train playground, and the giant water play area. And Robert kept looking at little kids running around all excited, and talking about how he can't wait to see Jack like that.

I guess its safe to say that our perspective has changed. Seeing things through his eyes is going to be so fun. Plus he's a great excuse for slowing the pace and taking more breaks, so Robert and I won't have to admit how old we really feel!

This is his rocker face

This is his rocker face
Originally uploaded by bedlam2317

I have been avoiding this blog...and I don't know why. I guess between the chaos of school and home I just needed to push it to the side for a while. There were actually times that I thought about signing in, and then the idea of trying to get out all my thoughts, all my news about Jack, just overwhelmed me. He is literally changing every day, and it has been hard to keep up.

I have several stories in the works so and a couple weeks off from school, so hopefully more will be posted soon. I promise I won't let the cobwebs overtake this thing....in the meantime hope you enjoy the photo!

Whew...are we still here?

Hello? Is anyone out there? If so, I am very sorry it has taken me so long to post. If you are like I am with my favorite blogs, you have checked back every day only to be disappointed by the title of that same old post. But that should just build the excitement for this post even more! First, I have a question for anyone that is out there...

When do I stop running to soothe Jack every time he is sleeping at night or naptime? Because lately it has seemed like I have to get up every hour or so at night to put his pacifier in and rub his hair for a minute and then he will drift back to sleep while I stand there wide-eyed and attempt to fall back asleep before the next hour arrives (Robert does this too, I can't take all the credit). Technically he "sleeps" through the night - he will go from about ten until six without a bottle - but he stirs so frequently and does not want to go back to sleep unless we help him. So where do we draw the line between soothing him and allowing this to become a game that is doomed to repeat itself for what feels like the next freaking twenty years?

Aside from the sleeping he is doing wonderfully. He figured out how to roll from his tummy to his back a couple days ago which has made him much much happier. In some ways this discovery has also made him more manageable, because I don't have to keep flipping him over as noted previously, but it is also scarier, because now we really have to start watching where he might roll to or what he might roll off of. He also reaches out for anything and everything, and one of my favorite things is going in his room in the morning and seeing him reach out for me to pick him up. I think his favorite thing to reach for is my hair, and just this morning I was playing with him and acted like I was going to take his pacie, and he reached up and yanked my hair as hard as he could and laughed.

I would have to say the biggest change in the last couple weeks is that we have introduced him to some solid foods. At the doctor's suggestion we started with cereal and have moved on to carrots. He LOVES his food. And if Robert would ever show me how to edit a video and post it, I could show you how much he loves his carrots. Suffice it to say there is a big mess and a lot of excited, joyous screaming from Jack in the video after he ate carrots for the first time. He loves to put his hands in his mouth while eating, and mealtime has turned into a race between his hands and the spoon with him trying to time it so that just as the spoon hits his mouth he can grab all the food and smear it all over his face while still managing to eat some. We are trying very hard to teach him what "hands down" means.

In other news, he is going to have his first night away from home this weekend. I don't know how I'm going to handle it. But maybe it will give me something to post about before another month goes by. So come back soon, I promise I will try not to have this same old post up again!

Anniversary

Yesterday was the eight year anniversary of Robert and I dating. To celebrate, we decided to take a trip down to Athens to visit my alma mater and introduce Jack to UGA. Every time we go to Athens it is a trip down memory lane. We had so many great times there, and each time we visit we have specific places we like to visit so we can reminisce. Suffice it to say this trip was a huge learning experience about the differences in travel once you have a baby.

The plan: Spend Saturday enjoying our favorite stores and eateries downtown, and stroll through the campus like old times. Get up Sunday and visit the Botanical Gardens before heading back home.

The reality: Take a whirlwind tour of campus due in part to the fact that it is REALLY FREAKING hot and muggy and we are REALLLY out of shape, and also because baby is sick and tired of being cooped up in a carseat/stroller all day and is letting us know it. Eat lunch downtown and visit our favorite store before realizing that Jack is really not feeling this whole stroller/outdoor/heat thing and is probably going to have a meltdown soon. Decide to head back to hotel, which now feels like miles away since we were crazy enough to think we could walk all the way across campus to downtown with Jack. Get good picture of Jack and I in front of Sanford Stadium - the whole trip was worth it just to show him the campus and share Athens with him, even if it was only for a little while. After getting back to the hotel proceed to deal with several fits from Jack, culminating in his refusal to go to sleep until about midnight (two hours past his bedtime). We had intended to go back out after letting him rest for a while, but it just didn't happen. We wound up watching Evan Almighty on tv and ordering in from Gumby's (which was still awesome because their pizza rolls are the best!). After going to bed at 12 Jack woke up at 5:30 to eat and would not go back to sleep. He stayed awake until we checked out the hotel at 11, and I knew that as soon as we got in the car he was going to pass out. So the Botanical Gardens were nixed in favor of a driving tour of Athens before heading back home. He slept the entire ride home and as I am writing this is taking another hour nap.

Overall the trip went well for our first I suppose. It is definitely a different (and somewhat difficult!) experience traveling with Jack, but it was so much fun to share a new town with him and include him in a place that means so much to Robert and I. The past eight years with Robert have been wonderful, and it was fun to look back over how we have changed and grown as individuals and in our relationship. Jack's presence in our lives has certainly changed how we function -our day to day routine will never be the same! - but sharing our world with him makes each experience totally new and different, and I can't wait to see what each new year will hold.

I'm tired of thinking of titles for these posts. I think that is half the battle in getting me to write one - trying to think up that snazzy one liner to convince my one reader that yes, reading this post might actually be worth her time. Things around here have been in CRAZY mode lately. I wrapped up my first summer semester of school last week and start back tonight. The amount of writing I did for my two classes over the last seven weeks was absolutely insane, so I'm going to blame my lack of posting on that. But it really has more to do with the fact that Jack becomes increasingly more active and attention demanding every day.

When he was born and I was trying to keep up with school work I would dream of the days that he was just a little bit older, when he would go longer between feedings, allowing me more time to sit down and focus on school work between meals. Yeah....Didn't really think about the fact that as he got older he would be, you know, MOBILE. And AWAKE. He cannot stand to sit in his swing anymore, as it restricts his ability to flail all his limbs around in an attempt to kick or grab everything in site. This is not particularly a problem for me, as I am happy to lay him on his playmat or on a blanket on the floor to explore his world. The problem lies in the fact that the only thing he wants to do when he lays down is roll over. Which is wonderful. Do not get me wrong, I am so happy he can roll over and that I can mark that off the developmental list that we all know I keep in my head. I just wish he would learn how to roll back onto his back when he is done. Because right now his favorite thing to do is roll onto his stomach, look around with interest for about 60 seconds, then proceed to flail around and bang his head on the floor screaming until I roll him back over. For some reason this flailing also results in a runny nose, so usually when I roll him back over he has snot all over his face. Which is lovely. As soon as I roll him over he looks at me, laughs, and rolls back onto his stomach again so that we can start the whole process over. It wouldn't drive me nearly as crazy if he didn't laugh every time I helped him, like "Haha, the joke's on you woman".

As I posted the above he was sleeping, and now he is awake, ready to go full force, and it has taken me ten minutes to finish this sentence, as I have already rolled him back over ninety times. Seriously. So I'm wrapping this up. But Robert and I are working on something really special that will hopefully be posted by the end of the week. I'm typing that now to force myself to have a deadline. Okay, snot-face is forcing me to end this post for real now. Check back soon for exciting updates!

What's in a name

Ever since I was a very young man, probably around 7 or 8, I have thought about what I would call my kids. Interestingly enough, I've always known on some level that I would have a boy first, so I thought about a boy's name more than a girl's. I remember being in the car with my mom and my sister and blurting out, "I know what I'm going to name my first boy!" To which my obviously confused and curious mother replied, "Really? What?" "Templeton Peck," I responded triumphantly. In retrospect, the character name for pretty boy A-Team member, Face, isn't exactly the most suitable name for a child of mine (Mad Dog Murdock is more in the right arena), but at that moment in time, it seemed so perfect. Needless to say, that name lost its flair and was left behind for a slew of other equally inappropriate yet intriguingly unique names, ranging from Ferdinand Allen to Treat and even the ever infamous Robert Flash Gordon. Thankfully, I married a woman assertive enough to deny me all these variances and yet still be loving enough not to trounce upon my eclectic sense of humor and creativity.

As I grew, gaining minimal levels of maturity through the years, I began thinking of my own name, Robert Austin Gordon. I was named after my mother's two brothers, Robert - an astoundingly magnificent musician, and Austin - an incredibly intelligent yet remarkably goofy and fun loving guy. I'm not really sure if I can claim to take after either of my namesakes, but rather a dim reflection of the two. Since both my first and middle name were already used within the family, a nickname was prescribed - Robin, a combination of the first syllable of Robert and the last syllable of Austin. Through the years, a young boy realizes rather abruptly that he is being called by a girl's name. So, as I moved into kindergarten, I informed everyone that I would be Robert from now on. It didn't stick. I was, at the time, rocking a very cool spike hairdo, similar to what many lesbians roll with now (I'm a trendsetter, what can I say?). So, I garnered the nickname of Spike. When I changed schools in the 4^th grade, I was nicknamed Gordo, a play off my last name and the fact that I was a rather chunky little man – “gordo” means fat in Spanish, for all you non-multilingual readers. When I moved schools again in the 7^th grade, I was bombarded with a series of nicknames like G. Gordon Liddy, Gordon Lightfoot, and Gordon Shumway. When I changed schools yet again in 10^th grade, I was awarded the nickname Bob – I didn’t hang out with an incredibly creative group of people at that time. And finally, my longest lasting nickname was received when I moved to my final school in 11^th grade and was endowed with the “Flash Gordon” legacy, a nickname I share with my father. This nickname is how the majority of my friends still refer to me, and how most people introduce me. There have been many other nicknames, most of which need not be noted.

When Steph and I found out we were pregnant, all these thoughts of names came back to me. I remembered all the names I had previously thought up and how much everyone hated them. I had to think of something original but not retarded that still had meaning to it, a name like Pencil Firefighter Gordon would be considered TOO original and therefore much too retarded and completely without meaning. It was at that point that I thought about my own name again. Family names hold a lot of meaning, but aren’t really original, since they are, in fact, copies of someone else’s names. It bothered me that I couldn’t think of anything truly original, but I did love the idea of family names. It was at that moment I had a great epiphany. Steph and I could use all the family names we had thought up, which are 5 in total (6 if you count Matt-Michael Anderson Gordon), and then just give our unborn son some totally original nickname! It was brilliant, or so we thought.

See, the problem with nicknaming a newborn child is they don’t seem to have too much of a personality to work with. There was the obvious monkey nickname since I’m obsessed with monkeys and the entire nursery is covered in primates, but since we already have a Monkey Daniel in our group, it loses its originality. There was Dad’s contribution, Jumpin’ Jack Flash, which is still a personal favorite. Then we thought about naming him Popeye because he always had one eye closed, but that only lasted for about a week. There were countless nicknames that popped up every time he did something new, One Shoe Jack, Poopers, Jackers, all which had brief stints in use and then were quickly discarded. This process became increasingly frustrating to me. I really wanted him to have a truly unique nickname.

On Father’s Day, it hit me. None of his previous nicknames worked for me because they only emphasized one aspect or ability he had. None of his nicknames seemed to truly capture who he is. And I was completely okay with that because there is no nickname that will properly identify him in my eyes. It’s weird too, because the only name that really connects me to him, the one word that best emphasizes all of him is also the most generic. The best name for him is son. That one name, the most unoriginal, is also the one that holds the most meaning to me. It’s perfectly simple for such a complex purpose, three little letters that encompass the entire emotional range between a father and his boy, three letters that encompass what an entire language fail to do. I love my son.

Happy Father's Day

In a couple weeks Robert and I will celebrate 8 years of being together. I love remembering that first summer - it seemed like the perfect temperature all the time, the days and nights would drag on forever, offering us seemingly endless hours to talk about everything imaginable.

One particularly vivid conversation in my memory was one we had about a month after we started officially "dating". I had just met Robert's dad's family for the first time and we were in my driveway, talking in the car as was typical when he dropped me off. We had been talking for a while when Robert told me that he had had a dream about our children. I was taken aback for a minute, because at this point we had not even said "I love you" to each other. He went on to tell me that in the dream he was sitting in a chair and 4 children came running up around him - the oldest was a little boy, then two little girls, and the baby was a boy as well. He said that they all had light red hair, fair skin (no surprises there), and they were all smiling and laughing with him. I can honestly say this was one of those moments when I knew he was the one for me - because I could picture those children too, and even though we had only dated for a month, I knew the love we both felt for them and for each other.

When we started dating we were almost nineteen, and I thank my nineteen year old self every day for being smart enough to see what I had in Robert. A few more indications that he was a good man: he was always open and affectionate with his mom and sister and was never embarrassed to say I Love You in front of his friends or anything (for that matter he says I Love You to his friends too). He is also the most giving person I have ever met. If one of our friends or family needs help it doesn't matter what else he has going on, he will find a way to help them out and he never complains about it. And I love watching him with kids. He is one of the few adults I know who has managed to hold on to some of his imagination, and he can interact with children on a level that few adults know how. Sometimes he does things with Jack that I think scientifically Jack should not be able to process yet, and he can get responses out of Jack that I never would have imagined. He is a constant reminder that our achievement is only limited by our belief in ourself.

This time last year, we had just found out we were pregnant. It was one of the most exciting and scariest times of my life, and as I tiptoed through the next nine months he was the anchor that kept me from getting swept away into the ocean of fear I felt at the time. He was a better pregnancy partner than I could have asked for, always understanding what I needed before I even had to ask, and offering me strength in all the times I started to falter. I never would have made it through the natural delivery without his encouragement and his belief in me. And now when I see him with our son, sharing all of his love and his knowledge, I know without any doubt that Jack will be a great man. He will be a great man because he will learn from his father, and I feel so blessed to witness it all and share the love of this family.

Happy Father's Day Robert. We love you!

The face of success

Apparently this is the concentration face
Jack rolled over for the first time a couple days ago. I was sitting beside him on the floor, working on a paper for school, and the next thing I knew his head was practically laying in my lap and he was on his tummy. I immediately took a picture with the camera on my phone and texted it to Robert - what would we do without technology?! Yesterday I decided to lay him in the floor to get some updated pics (you know, because it had been like THREE days since I took pictures of him!) and before I could even get my camera out he was on his tummy. I think my favorite part about this new phase is the face that accompanies it (see above). Everytime he rolls over he makes that face, which is perfect because our friend made up a story about him being "Gummy the Baby Prospector" before he was even born, and now we have the face to go with the story. This picture makes me envision him in an old timer mining outfit, ready to set out and find some gold. There are more pics on Flickr that detail the entire rolling over process - even Sandy made it in, providing motivation in the form of licking his face until he rolled over to get away from her. Just kidding people. I only let the dog lick his face for like, five seconds at a time, max....

Golden Age

Recently every day has held something new with Jack. Within the last two weeks he has become interested in his feet, grabbing them and pulling them towards his mouth at every opportunity. He has also started trying to sit up while holding onto our fingers, and each time he accomplishes this he grins with pride. My favorite thing though is his laughter. Robert plays "Monster Baby" with him, holding him above our heads and letting him kick at us, and he just laughs and laughs. It is the most beautiful sound in the world to me.

I have never been a very calm person, at least not in the sense that I can just relax and sit around. Usually when we are at home I have to be doing something, whether it is housework or school work or a project (as an example - just last weekend I cleaned out Jack's closet for oh, the FIFTH time since he was born). But with Jack all that changes. I find myself content to lay next to him on the floor all afternoon, learning all the intricacies of how fingers and toes move, and exploring how fun it is to pull mommy's hair. It seems like every hour he discovers something new to be intrigued by. I could take his picture all day long, trying to capture each different expression, and yet I know I will never be able to catch all these moments as he changes so fast.

Jack's Birth Story - Part Four

Well I didn't make it to my Thursday deadline, but here is the final part of his birth story, as promised.

At this point I have to make a complaint about the hospital, and while I did not have many things bother me throughout our time there, this was possibly the most frustrating thing they could have done. They had strategically placed a clock on the wall directly opposite my bed, just begging me to watch every minute drag by. I feel certain they have the room set up this way on purpose, because it probably makes it a lot easier to convince women they need help moving things along when they have watched the minutes tick by on that clock for hours. I was determined not to let time get the best of me though, and tried my hardest not to look at the clock for the duration of the labor.

My mom and Granny arrived at the hospital about thirty minutes later, at which point I was still able to talk between contractions and joke around some. I could tell that Granny was really nervous; she couldn’t handle seeing me work through the contractions, so she set up camp in the waiting room for the long haul. My father and sister arrived soon afterwards, and my dad immediately started taking pictures to document the event. My sister seemed a little freaked out, and quickly went out to sit with my Granny. For the next hour or so I was able to manage the contractions without too much effort, to the point where I worried that coming to the hospital had slowed down my progress. It wasn’t long though before things started to pick up, and by the time the rest of our family started arriving at the hospital I had to work so hard to focus that I couldn’t even greet them.

Our birthing books referred to this part of labor as “active labor”. The contractions were getting stronger with each round, and the rest period in between was getting shorter. On top of that, all of my contractions started to be what we called double-headers, because I would have one big contraction and just as it would start to subside and make me think I would get a break, another even stronger contraction would spike up. I can honestly say I would not have made it through this period without pain medication if it weren’t for Robert. During the contractions it felt like there was something trying to pull my mind inside my body, and if I gave in even for a second I would lose control and give in to the pain. It was during those times that Robert would look in my eyes, telling me that it would be okay and that I would get through this one, willing me to stay focused and relaxed. He also helped me maintain my breathing pattern, keeping me from hyperventilating and ensuring that Jack got all the oxygen he needed. Throughout all of this I was on my side, with Robert standing in front of me and my mother standing behind me, rubbing my back. I can remember them asking me a couple times if they could leave my side between contractions, either to go to the bathroom or go outside and update everyone, and I each time I begged them not to leave, becoming frantic if they weren’t back in position before the next contraction. They were my strength for the rest of the labor, and I know without any doubt that they are the only reason I was able to reach my goal of delivering naturally.

From about six to ten I labored like this, progressing steadily towards delivery. From there, things started to get a bit more blurry but I’ll try to describe it as best I can. I know the doctor came in to check me and that I was nine centimeters dilated but my water still hadn’t broken. She also said that Jack’s head was turned sideways and that they wanted to break my water and then let the contractions get strong enough to turn his head before I started pushing. Well as soon as they broke my water the contractions got CRAZY. And by crazy I mean all hell broke loose. I started to lose all control and would have freaked out if it weren’t for Robert, my mom, and my nurse. I was lying on my back at this point and during each contraction I would open my eyes and just look at each of their faces, rolling my head back and forth, scanning their eyes for the strength I needed not to retreat into the pain. This might be a good time to mention my “mantra” during all my contractions. I played a lot of spider solitaire on the laptop during the last few months of my pregnancy, so during my contractions I found myself playing out spider solitaire scenarios in my head to calm myself down. I know that sounds crazy, but it would keep me focused on something other than the pain and helped pass the time. Also at this point the hospital sent in the anesthesiologist to get my info “just in case” I needed pain medicine. This man started asking me the same questions I had answered 6 hours prior right in the middle of a huge contraction, which was the WRONG thing to do. I basically started screaming at him to leave me alone that I had gotten this far and I wouldn’t be needing his help. Robert quickly tried to answer the rest of his questions and then showed him the door.

I know it was also during this time that I started screaming some, which I had told myself I wouldn’t do. I just couldn’t help it. The nurse kept telling me not to push, but every fiber of my being was telling me the opposite. I had gotten used to focusing through the pain of the contractions, but trying to stop my body from doing what it was instinctively designed to do was completely different. I was gripping the bedrails and shaking them as hard as I could during each contraction, screaming to let out the energy my body wanted to put into pushing. I started questioning my ability to get through this naturally, and begged Robert to make it be over. He recognized this as the transition into the final stage of labor, and quickly reassured me that we were almost there. The hour from ten to eleven was the longest one, with me begging to push through each contraction, and the nurse saying no. Even as things started to get chaotic, I was able to relax between contractions. I would almost go into a trance-like state, feeling peaceful and falling asleep until the next round arrived.

Finally, around eleven o’clock, my body decided it wasn’t waiting any longer to push this baby out. I started pushing through the contractions without telling anyone, and since the nurse was out of the room Robert and my mom didn’t realize what was happening. As soon as the nurse came back she saw on my face what was going on. She checked me and said they could set me up to start pushing legitimately while she called the doctor. This was the time I had been preparing for and I knew it wouldn’t take me long to deliver the baby. I think I pushed through about three more contractions when the nurse said she saw Jack’s head. The doctor wasn’t even there yet, but I didn’t care, this baby was coming out. At this same time Jack started having some difficulties – he wasn’t getting enough oxygen and they were no longer able to trace his heartbeat. So they quickly attached an internal monitor to his skull and hooked me up to an oxygen mask. The oxygen made it difficult for me to hear anything that was going on, and I finally retreated into my own little world. All I remember from here is having a couple really strong contractions and feeling Jack get pushed down and then retreat a little bit. There was so much pressure I felt like I was going to explode. Something inside me decided I wasn’t going to let that happen for long, and so during the next contraction I used every bit of force and power I had, pushing long after they stopped counting to ten. I could feel his head ripping its way out of my body, and my instincts told me to just keep pushing, keep pushing, and all this pressure would soon be over. Later Robert would tell me that about five people had yelled at me during this contraction to stop pushing, that as soon as he started crowning they wanted me to relax, but instead I pushed him all the way out. Robert said that the nurse yelled “He’s crowning, stop pushing…ooohh, ooohh, there’s his shoulder, stop, stop, oooh, he’s all the way out!” Meanwhile the doctor was trying to get her gloves on and didn’t even have time to catch the baby. He just sort of plopped out on the bed while everyone frantically fluttered around, still trying to prepare for his arrival.

As soon as I pushed him out, relief rushed through my body. I can honestly say I felt no pain at this point, only warmth and love. I literally sat up in the bed, reaching for him, sobbing “my baby, my baby” over and over. I had definitely shaken up the whole medical staff, and as the doctor handed the scissors to Robert to cut the cord, Jack kicked them and they went flying across the room! I just sat there, staring at him in amazement, marveling at the most beautiful creature I had ever seen in my life. It felt like we were in our own world, still connected, seeing each other for the first time but already knowing everything about each other. As soon as they cut the cord they handed him to me, and as I lay him on my chest he raised his head to look at my face. I will never forget those little eyes searching for mine, filled with a hope and peace that only a new life can hold. The details of the aftermath are much gorier and I’ll spare everyone from hearing that. Just suffice it to say the only thing that got me through was holding my son, sharing the calm that radiates from him.

Jack's Birth Story - Part Three

I had the most beautiful morning ever today. Why? Because my son slept from 11:00 last night until 6:15 this morning. Well, he actually probably would have slept longer than 6:15, except that is when I woke up on my own and went barreling into his room to make sure he was still breathing. And it wasn't enough to just SEE that he was breathing, I had to hold my hand on his chest just to verify further that yes, this is my child and he did just sleep through the night and he is still alive. At which he point he woke up and said "feed me momma, feed me!". And I did. And it was the best thing ever.

Anyways, all that just to take you back to this - the story of his birth. This is the last section that I have written so far, so it could be weeks before you get the end. No seriously, I'll try to have it done by Thursday. Which could actually happen if I have more nights like last night. Although I'm not getting my hopes up for that yet. He'll probably stay up all night tomorrow just to throw me off my game. Anyways...

The next day I awoke feeling the same as always, wondering if anything would change that day. Robert went to work as usual and came home for lunch to visit me. I decided to drive him back to work, and we agreed that we would go out on a date that night to get our mind off things. Later that afternoon my mom and Granny called and asked if I wanted to go out to the mall. We wound up going out and then picking Robert up from work to go eat together. Around nine o’clock, I started feeling contractions that were stronger than usual, and I noticed that they were coming rather consistently. I didn’t want to say anything to Mom and Granny, because I didn’t want them to speculate on whether or not this was the real thing. So I told Robert that anytime I mentioned the t.v. show Lost during dinner, it meant I was having a contraction. He would pull out his phone and check the time between contractions. By the time we left the restaurant, I was having contractions about every eight minutes and they were not subsiding as normal. When we got home, I laid down on the couch and tried to keep my mind off the contractions, still not wanting to get my hopes up that this could possibly be real labor. Around 11 Robert’s sister called and asked if we could come over and help them move a new television into their living room. We drove the mile to their house and Robert helped haul the t.v. in. The whole time we visited with them, I was acutely aware of each contraction and the fact that they seemed to be getting stronger, still not mentioning to anyone what I was feeling. Robert and I came home about an hour later and I laid back down on the couch and promptly fell asleep.

I was awakened shortly before 2 a.m. by a contraction stronger than any I had experienced previously. While my other contractions had felt like a tightening in the abdomen, this felt like a wave across my entire midsection. It started in my back and curled around to my abdomen, tightening my uterus with an intensity I had never felt before. I woke up Robert and told him I thought I was in the beginning stages of labor. We timed the contractions and realized they had progressed to every 4-5 minutes. Robert helped walk me to bed, and we agreed to let things continue to progress until we both felt it was time to go to the hospital. For the next two hours, I lay in bed listening to my husband sleep peacefully beside me, unaware of the waves of contractions overtaking my body. I remember thinking at the time that the contractions reminded me of thunder. They would start like a low rumble within my belly, and progress into a loud clap that would resonate for what felt like an eternity. As quickly as the pain came, it would start to reside, rolling away like the end of a storm. I lay on my side, trying to remember all the relaxation techniques Robert and I had studied and discussed, watching the clock and wondering how long I should wait before waking him. I knew what lay ahead of us, and as much as I wanted him to be with me, I felt it would be best for us both if he could get some rest for the work ahead. At one point I got up and went to the bathroom, trying to will my water to break as I sat there.

Finally, at four in the morning, I decided I had reached my breaking point. The contractions had become so intense I found myself instinctively moaning to relax during their wake, and I felt my rest periods in between becoming shorter. I woke up Robert and told him how things had progressed. The contractions were still about 3-4 minutes apart, but they were definitely stronger. After a few minutes discussion, we decided to head to the hospital and see how things were moving along. I called my doctor on the way, and as I described things to her I could tell she didn’t think I was that far along. She told me to get checked and that they would call her if things were moving. I remember feeling uncertain for the whole ride – knowing that the contractions I felt were strong and real and worrying that we would find out things were still moving slowly. When we got to the hospital, I couldn’t even make it to the door without stopping to breathe through another contraction. I had another while at the registration desk, and this time when we met the nurses at triage, I could tell by their faces that this was the real deal. The triage nurse checked me and determined that I was between 4 and 5 centimeters dilated. Relief rushed through my body, knowing that these contractions were working and we were finally on our way to meeting our son. They had us walk down the hall to a room, and in between contractions I called my mother and told her to head to the hospital. As I got settled in and hooked up to monitors and I.V.’s, the realization that this was it, that I was officially in labor and on the road to delivering our son finally sunk in. Fear swept over me. Doubt over whether or not I could handle the contractions as they became even more intense and worry about how I was going to handle the delivery consumed me. Robert recognized this and immediately started to coach me and calm me down, reminding me that we would just take things one moment at a time, and not allowing me to think too far into the future.

Jack's Birth Story - Part Two

We have had a great weekend with Jack - particularly since he let us sleep in this morning! Behold: the second part of his birth story, aka the part where I whine about how incredibly long it took to actually get this labor going!

When I woke up at six the next morning, I was disappointed to realize that my contractions had not gotten stronger during the night. They were still coming about every four minutes though, so my hopes were high that things were progressing. I called my mother and she prepared to come over and stay with us until we went back to the hospital. Robert and I both called into work to tell them we wouldn’t be in because we were having the baby. We called all the grandparents to let them know what had transpired the night before, and told them to be ready to go to the hospital at any time. By ten in the morning, I was getting antsy to get things moving, so Robert, Mom and I loaded up in the car and headed to the mall to walk laps. We walked for three hours, counting contractions and discussing what each different pain might mean. Every few minutes one of us would get a call from a friend or family member checking in to see if anything had changed. Finally at two o’clock, I decided I had to know how far things had progressed, so we called the doctor and asked if we could come in. My doctor wasn’t available but they said I could see someone else in the practice and I agreed. By the time I saw the doctor, my emotions were at a high and I was desperate to hear things were still progressing. Unfortunately, nothing had changed. I was still dilated at 2 cm and the baby had not even dropped any further. I tried to stay calm but couldn’t hold back the tears of disappointment at the doctor’s update. He told me that this was normal, and that I was probably in pre-labor, which could last anywhere from a day to a couple weeks. He gave us the normal suggestions for progressing labor – intercourse, spicy food, castor oil, even an enema. I was definitely not prepared to go that far to move things along!

To sum things up from this point – my pre-labor was on the long end of the estimate, and it was almost two weeks before things picked up. I had decided to go ahead and stay out of work for the rest of the week, and Robert took off Thursday just in case things progressed, but when nothing changed he went ahead and went back on Friday. During the next two weeks, I went deeper and deeper into a depression as people continued to call and ask if things had progressed and I had to repeat over and over that no, nothing had changed. Even though his due date was two weeks away, the beginning moments of his arrival had been offered to us, and it was all we could think about. Every day was another possibility for his birth, and every night was another day that passed without any change. The contractions continued to present themselves, though they would fluctuate from every few minutes to every couple hours. I couldn’t decide what was worse, to deal with them knowing they weren’t progressing anything, or worrying about why they stopped and when they would return in the hours from one to the next. I didn’t know what to do or how to be. I tried walking but would get easily worn out and tired of going to the same places over and over. I didn’t want to get too far from home for fear that I would go into labor and be out by myself. When I stayed at home I would get sucked into the baby stories on t.v. and just get more upset about my current situation. Nothing appeased me, nothing allayed my thoughts about his birth, and each day became a greater frustration than the one before.

By the time my true contractions started on February 15^th, I had completely stopped talking to people about my current labor status. I didn’t want to give anyone information to analyze, I didn’t want to hear anymore that my current labor pains might be a sign that labor was starting, only to have them disappear again. The only person I wanted to discuss things with was Robert. Each night we would talk about how the day had been, and he would console me and remind me that even if things weren’t moving along, it couldn’t be too much longer. On Valentine’s Day we went back to the doctor for our scheduled visit. I didn’t have high hopes that things had changed, though in the back of my mind I thought I was at least another centimeter or so. Again, I went into the doctor with high emotions. She checked me and told me that I was still the same as the week before. I immediately started crying, thinking about all the contractions I had and feeling like they had done nothing. The doctor asked if I wanted to be induced, she could tell that I was getting worn down mentally and told me that if I wanted to move things along, she would be willing to do that. She did tell me though that she felt my labor would be much easier if I could wait for things to take their course, and that she still felt very strongly that my body would move into labor naturally when it was ready. As frustrated as I was, I still wanted to allow things to happen naturally, even if that meant more waiting. Before we left she had us make an appointment for the following week – three days after his due date, just in case. Just the thought of coming back the next week had me in tears again.

Jack's Birth Story - Part One

Well it is about 30 minutes later than I planned to submit this, but three months ago yesterday our little Jackson was brought into this world. In fact, if you want to get technical, it was three months ago on a Friday night just like this that I started having serious contractions, although I still had not admitted it to anyone but Robert. But that part of the story is for another day. Let us start at the beginning of this whole crazy birth process:

Jackson Ronald Gordon was born on February 16, 2008 at 12:02 p.m., although the beginning of his arrival started almost two weeks earlier on February 5^th. Jack was due on February 18^th, so I had planned to keep working until the 8^th and then take a week off to rest before he got here. He had other plans for me though. I had my last baby shower on February 5^th, hosted by my office. I had been feeling fine all day, just a little bit tired as usual. My work held the shower in the afternoon, and afterwards I loaded everything into the car and headed towards home. I got home about 6:00 and started to unpack everything and put it away. I had already washed all of Jack’s clothes, so I wanted to get these last outfits and blankets washed and put up with everything else. As I was unpacking everything, I started having pains in my abdomen that were much stronger than the Braxton-hicks contractions I was used to. I continued working but the pains were intense enough that I would have to stop each time they came and wait for them to pass. I started keeping time between them and noticed they were about ten minutes apart. I knew that Robert only had a couple more hours to work, so I didn’t want to call and get him upset, knowing that if this was really labor it would probably progress slowly enough for him to get home and be with me for a while before we needed to leave for the hospital. After getting Jack’s laundry started and putting away his other gifts, I decided to lay down and continue to measure the contractions to see if they got any closer together. I also called my mother and described the pain to her, to see if she agreed that it could be contractions. Because she had mostly back labor with both of her pregnancies, she really couldn’t tell me what contractions in the abdomen might feel like. She agreed that I should just continue to monitor things and see if they got closer together or got stronger.

About an hour later Robert got off work and I was still having contractions, and they were coming a little bit closer together, though not stronger. I was still able to talk easily and move around without too much pain during the contractions, which I would realize later meant they were not that strong. When Robert came home he made supper for both of us and we watched t.v. for a while, both of us wondering if this was it, and what we should do, etc. Finally at about ten o’clock I couldn’t stand the wondering anymore. I called my doctor for advice on what to do. The nurse asked if I thought my water had broken or was leaking, and I told her I wasn’t sure. She told me to go ahead and go to the hospital and have them check me, because if my water was leaking they needed to know. Robert was very upset about this, because he worried that we would get to the hospital and they would want to admit me, even if I wasn’t very far along, and that I would wind up stalling and they would want to induce me, etc. which was not part of our plan with the natural delivery. We argued for a few minutes before loading up in the car and heading to the hospital. I assured him that I would stick to my guns, and as long as there was no danger to the baby, we could come home and continue to labor until we both felt it was time to go back to the hospital.

The trip to the hospital was full of excitement and nervous energy, wondering if labor was really starting and if we were going to meet our son soon. When we got to the hospital, I could tell that the nurses did not think I was in active labor. I’m sure they could tell by the fact that I was still able to walk and talk easily that things were not very far along. They checked me and confirmed that I was only 1 cm dilated and my water was not leaking. They decided to monitor my contractions for an hour and see where things stood after that. I was hooked up to two machines, one for my contractions and one to monitor the baby’s heartbeat, and then Robert and I were alone to wonder for the next hour if anything would change. While we waited we watched the presidential primaries on t.v. and entertained ourselves watching the contractions come and go. At this point they were coming about every four minutes, but were still the same strength as earlier that evening. When the nurse came back, she checked me again and I had dilated to 2 cm. Because things had progressed, she thought the doctor might want to go ahead and admit me, but as Robert and I had agreed, I asked to be sent home so that labor could progress on its own. The doctor agreed, and we left thinking we would be back by early the next morning. We didn’t talk much on the way home, both of us thinking about the events that were about to transpire, and how much our lives were about to change. When we got home it was about 12:30 in the morning, and we pulled out the video camera and started a video diary for Jackson. We talked about how it was the 6^th of February and that we hoped to see him very soon. When I finally went to bed an hour later I lulled myself to sleep with dreams of the delivery and the hope of seeing my son the next day.

Come back soon for the next exciting installment!

Monthly Update

How you know its time to update your blog - a friend calls and thinks there is something wrong with her computer because she keeps going to your page but it never shows new information. So yes, here we are again. Apparently I have at least one person reading this so I decided its time to update! And yes, I do have an absolutely ridiculous excuse for not posting. Our laptop broke and we had to send it in to be repaired, and moving myself and Jack into the office to use the regular PC just takes SOOOOOOO MUCH effort. My how technology changes us.

Things with Jack have been absolutely wonderful lately. He talks to us and we have little jokes with him, and just this week I found a way to make him laugh. Which is funny, because he laughs just like our friend Matt. He has also found a best friend whom we call Giraffey (I'm sure no one guessed that this friend is a little giraffe stuffed animal). You can lay Giraffey on his tummy and he gets so excited. He starts kicking and waving his arms around which makes Giraffey move, which totally amazes Jack. He will start pulling on Giraffey's ears and get her right up next to his face and then start talking. It is the cutest thing ever.

Robert and Jack made sure that I had a wonderful first Mother's Day as well, which started with sleeping in, while Daddy did all the laundry and fed Jack. I mean seriously, what more could a mother ask for than that?! Once I awoke from my blissful slumber I had to find my cards/presents which were hidden in the house. Overall it was a really great day.

In hopes that I can start posting more frequently, I am going to start a little series on Friday. It will mark Jack's three month birthday, so I am going to put up his birth story in segments, over the course of the next week or so. Which means that I have to finish writing his birth story, because I got to the part where we made it to the hospital for the second time and haven't had a chance to work on it again. But don't worry, there are three pages just describing the two weeks of frustration between our first trip to the hospital and the second! So come back Friday my one avid reader, I know you won't want to miss it!

Growing boy....

We went to the doctor today and he is 24 1/2 inches long. That is in the 90th percentile for height! He weighs 12 lbs 2 oz now, which is also above average, but is to be expected with his height. He also got three shots today, and after crying for a second he was fine. Not even three months old and he's already tougher than his mommy!

So now we are home, he is snoozing in his rocker, and I am marveling at how much he has changed in the past two months. And yet it doesn't come close to how much he has changed us in the past two months.

Must be tech savvy

Last night while feeding Jack at 4:30 in the morning, he grabbed onto my finger and started moving it around and "clicking" on my fingernail with his index finger, just like how an adult would use a computer mouse. I'm thinking this must be a new instinct that children learn in the womb. So is this something I can brag about? My child isn't even three months old and he already exhibits signs that he can use a mouse! He's so advanced! :)

Nine Weeks

Best thing ever: seeing his smile when he wakes up in my arms.

Going a little too far...?

There are few moments in your lifetime where you come into a moment like the one I came across tonight. Thankfully, we live in a time of digital technology and instant gratification, so I captured the moment to share with everyone. I was walking around the house, tidying things up and I thought Steph was in the bedroom changing clothes. However, I walked into Jack's room to check on him and I found this:



Then I went in for a closer look and discovered this:



I know mother's love their babies and I know that Jack is an awesome baby, but I think that Steph might have overstepped the boundary between normal and crazy. I just thought this was a funny moment and I wanted to share.

8 weeks old

So I realize that no one is probably reading this anymore since it has been two weeks since our last post. But things have really been moving over here - I started back to work last week, and I've been trying to catch up with school work before the semester ends. And of course things have been changing with Jack!

He is so much fun to play with that I get nothing done when he is awake. Over the past two weeks he has gone from howling at us to chatting away in his little baby language. He coos and smiles, and tries so hard to talk to us. He has also started to notice Sandy, and will stare at her whenever she is in his line of vision. And when she will sit still long enough to stay close to him, he will wave his hand around trying to grab her fur. He's starting to move his arms alot. Robert and I actually watched him lay on his playmat today and swing at a giraffe over and over to watch it move. He just played by himself and he would smile everytime he got the giraffe to swing. I would have to say my favorite development over the past two weeks is that he now enjoys just laying in his bed and talking to himself sometimes. This morning he stayed in bed till 8:00 just babbling, and thanks to Robert I was finally able to get a full 8 hours of sleep!

What amazes me the most about parenthood is how much he changes from one day to the next, and it just makes every day better than the one before.

The Boy who Wolf Cried

Steph and I like to watch the National Geographic Channel and HD Theater every now and then so we don’t feel as bad about all the reality television we watch. About a month ago, on one of those channels, there was an episode about a man who was doing an extensive multi-year study on wolves. The guy adopted three cubs and raised them for several years in a typical pack lifestyle. He taught them how to hunt and kill and slowly developed their places within the pack. He went as far as to wear the same clothes everyday to keep the same scent and even wrestle with the wolves to maintain dominance. The craziest part was that he would get some kind of animal, take out its innards and cook them and then pack them back into the carcass and take it to the pack to eat. He cooked the innards so he could eat them in front of the others because they were the part of the animal the alpha wolf eats.

Obviously, it was a weird and interesting show. I told you all that to tell you this. When the man first received the wolf cubs, one of the first things he had to teach them was the pack howl. The show explained that the pack howl was unique to every pack and it was used for communication, to establish boundaries, and as a warning system against rival packs. After a couple howls, each of the cubs began howling back. It was pretty cool.

With that being said, take a look at this:



Before the video was started, we got him to do it like three times. Then we got him to do it again the next day and the day after that. Just call us the Gordon Pack. AWWOOOO!

Seriously though, that’s cute, right?

Six weeks old!

Some of the things that he does already just amaze me. This morning when he woke up I got him out of his crib and took him into the living room to lay down on my chest. He was dozing off again with his pacifier in his mouth and I was patting his back. All of a sudden, he took his hand and wrapped it around the end of his pacifier. I watched him sit there like that for a minute, as if he were deciding whether or not it would really be worth it to take that pacie out of his mouth. Within moments he made the decision, and jerked the pacie out, flinging his head around in an attempt to stay awake. Just as suddenly he lay his head back on my chest, and apparently decided he wanted his pacie back in his mouth. Unfortunately he does not yet have the skill to move his hand where he desires, so I looked on for a few moments longer while he flung the pacie around hopelessly, trying to make it meet his mouth. What is really funny is that he will get the pacie within his vision, and then try to move his head to find it with his mouth. Obviously I didn't watch this for too long before he got angry and I helped him put the pacifier back in his mouth. It just amazes me to watch him learn and build his motor skills every day.

My other favorite thing now is burping him. Not because his burps are so special, but because as I pat his back, he pats mine. I lay him high up on my shoulder and he pats me very gently on the back. It is the sweetest thing ever.

And so it begins

So now we are officially caught up from our MySpace blogs and can begin to write about Jack on a page devoted just to him. It has been an interesting journey so far and I know we will have some entertaining stories to fill the pages here (at least entertaining to us!). More to come soon.

It has begun...(duh duh DUH!)

Robert's thoughts after three weeks with Jack:

I said it wouldn't happen, I've fought it as long as I could, but it has begun. I have nothing to talk about, or write about, that doesn't have to do with little Jack. Through sleep deprivation, lack of diversity in my schedule, and the overwhelming love I have for this boy, I have nothing of worth to contribute to conversations. I started noticing this issue two weeks ago. I wanted to say funny things, I wanted to even make some serious dialogue, but all that could come out of my mouth was, "Jack takes huge dumps. You should hear how deep his burps and farts are." What? Pathetic.
I started reading a lot of books and stuff in hopes of opening up new dialogue but the same crap keeps dropping out of my mouth. I have had serious issues maintaining a conversation for longer than 10 minutes without having to talk about Jack. I know I'm a proud dad and I know that Jack is cooler than any other kid I've ever come into contact with, but I realized when I was talking to Tim the other day, when I mentioned Jack's bowel movements in conversation three times, that Jack is awesome, but not very eventful.
But it's not all bad. I mean, it made me realize how much I'm going to love it when he actually does start doing things. And I know how much fun it's going to be to listen to Steph overanalyze everything he does. I know this won't really translate to people who aren't planning on kids or even thinking about kids, but it's such an amazing thing being a parent. I just don't want anyone to feel alienated from me and Steph becuase we are retarded being parents right now.

Life as a Parent

Robert's thoughts after two weeks with Jack:

It has now been two weeks since little Jack came into this world. It has been an incredibly exciting adventure so far, even though it has definitely been a sanity-depleting experience. I don't really know how to explain what it's like. He's hilarious even though he doesn't really do anything. He's flipped Steph and I off a couple times which we found amusing and my mother found very upsetting. Steph says when he smiles right now, it's really just gas; but he has gas at all the right moments. When someone compliments him, he has gas. When I joke with Steph about who the boss is now, he has gas. When he pees all over the place while his diaper is being change, he has gas. I think it's way too coincidental that he always has gas at highly amusing points.
Speaking of amusing, I was very proud - and slightly shocked - when I was changing his diaper and he peed halfway across the room. It wasn't as amusing to clean up, but it can't all be perfect. Also, he burps and farts like an old man. They aren't light and cute like a baby's should be. They have a good bit of bass to them and they're loud. He makes his daddy proud.
On the downside, he's stubborn like his parents and he doesn't like to sleep. He fights his schedule and he poops like there's no tomorrow.
The worst thing about it is having to go to work, though. Even though he deprives us of silence, rest and overall peace in our house, he's quite possibly the greatest thing to ever happen in my life. He's wonderful. Any time away from him feels like an eternity. I constantly worry that I'll miss something. He's great. I couldn't be more blessed.

The Story of Jackson (Prologue)

This is Robert's story of Jack's birth. I'm still working on mine (which is much longer, imagine!) and will probably post it in sections once I get it completed.

Okay, so I want to tell the whole story before I forget everything and right now there's no one to tell it to except Steph and Jack and they kind of know what it's all about. So, for those of you that are interested, here's how it all went down.

Steph wasn't working last week and she had decided to drive me back to work at lunch. So that night when she came to pick me up, we went over to Chili's in Hixson to eat with her mom and grandmother. While we were there, Steph whispered to me that she was having contractions but she didn't want to say anything to get everyone's hopes up. Instead, she decided to use the code, "Wasn't LOST so exciting this week?" every time she had a contraction. Yes, this did become a very awkward conversational oddity as the night went on. While we were there, Steph's uncle Aaron called to see how we were doing. He predicted that we were going to have Jackson the next day because it was his birthday and he wanted to share it with him. He even went as far as to predict the hard labor would start at 2 in the morning. Well, sure enough, at 2 in the morning Steph started having pretty strong contractions. We waited until 4, timing the contractions, and finally decided it was time to make our way to the hospital. Once there, Steph's labor was steady, but manageable until about 10. That's when the big ones started hitting, going from 7 cm to 10 cm. Then, at about 11:30, Steph started getting the urge to push. They checked her dialation, and Jackson was all ready to go too. She pushed for a couple minutes and then his head crowned and we all yelled out, "There's his head!" And then Steph leaned up and started waving her hand around "downtown" asking, "Where? I can't feel him." I told her to quick acting crazy because she still had work to do. She has problems, but I still love her. She gave a couple more really good pushes and his head came out and she asked, "What color is his hair?" upon which I immediately replied, "It's the color muck. Keep pushing." So she pushed again, and his arm came out. Then, she was supposed to stop, but Steph has never been good at following other people's directions so she pushed again and torpedoed little Jackson out into this world. I mean, seriously, the doctor didn't even have her gloves on yet. We're talking ridiculous speed. It was a miracle. Up to this point, I was totally in this awe-inspiring moment, but then something hit me and I turned white as a ghost and had to sit down before I passed out. Steph incurred some damage "down under" and had to have that repaired. This is the part where I get to brag/poke fun at my wife. She did the entire delivery without and type of drugs. Nothing. Then, when she had to have stitches, she only wanted a local anestesia, even after they recommended she have an epidural just for that. So she is super-strong. I mean, really that was an amazing ordeal. But then, after all that, they were taking out her I.V., and she was scared it would hurt and started crying, asking her mom, "Momma, will you hold my hand?" She is so weird.

I think that's about it. I'm sure there are certain parts of the story I forgot or don't even know about, so Steph we'll probably add a long comment letting everyone know the rest.

I do want to send out two very special thank you's to Matt and Andy. Andy, you provided the entire family with at least one memorable quote per person during the labor and waiting. For that, I sincerelysend you my gratitude. Things can get a little tense, so it's always nice to have someone break it. Matt, thank you so much for getting a hold of everyone and keeping everyone updated and patiently waiting FOREVER to see your godson. I know waking up that early to sit in a hospital and wait isn't the greatest thing in the world, and you'll probably never understand how much it meant to me and Steph, but it was something we were very thankful for.

Okay, to not end on a super gay sappy note. This boy poops like a madman. It's insanity. I'm not going to tell any stories here, but if you want to laugh, then the next time you see me or if you're impatient and want to send me a message, just ask, "What's all that about your son and his awesome ability to defecate?"

Jack's Room

Robert wrote this blog after my contractions started, as we waited out the TWO more weeks before he would arrive:

So, the baby is teaching us patience. In the mean time, here's some pictures of his room to hold you baby ravenous freaks at bay. ENJOY!










Also, one more reason to love my wife. Steph said that we could do a complete super hero room when he gets a little older. I am truly in love.

It’s a boy! Warning - this is possibly a sappy blog a new momma wrote about her little boy....

So this is the blog I wrote after we found out we were having a little boy:

Robert and I went to the doctor Thursday and found out we are having a little boy! A little Flash Jr. to run around and make our lives crazy. It was so awesome watching the ultrasound. When the tech first started, she told us that she was going to take pictures of its organs and spine, and then she would try to determine the gender and let us look at it for a while. But as soon as she started scanning, she said the baby was in a good position to go ahead and look for the gender, except that its legs were crossed really tight. On cue, our little Jackson rolled over and did a spread eagle, letting us know with no doubt that he is all boy! She got a picture of that too, which Robert is very proud of. As soon as we realized it was a boy, I started crying and Robert started what I think was a small version of the "Gordon Shuffle" trying to keep the tech from realizing what he was doing. We both would have been so happy with a boy or a girl, but something about learning what it is, and being able to think of it in terms of your little boy or your little girl, just makes it so much more real. Plus, this is going to pass on the Gordon name to another generation, which is awesome.

After we found out he was a boy, the tech started taking her other pictures. We got to watch our son roll around and move all his limbs, and he literally did not sit still for a minute. He kept grabbing his feet with his hands and pulling them up near his face, and then he would stretch and yawn and roll over in my belly. It was just incredible to see him moving, a tiny version of the boy we will see in person in a few months. The best part of the ultrasound though was definitely seeing his little face in 4D. We were able to see him yawn, and put his hands up near his face, and you could really make out the detail of his eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. It just amazes me to think that 5 months ago he was nothing but a few cells, and so quickly he has grown into a baby, a little part of Robert and I. The tech took several pictures in 4D that we got to keep, and in one of them, my son is cuddled up inside me, with his head against one of my organs, almost like I am holding or rocking him internally. It was the sweetest thing I have ever seen.

All the grandparents are very excited, none of them more than Robert's dad and my dad I think. Robert's dad because this brings another generation of Gordon men, and my dad because he got to raise two girls (and I know he wouldn't change that for anything) but now we will finally have a little boy around, who maybe will play sports if he wants to (and if he is more coordinated than his mother) and watch the Packers with grandpa.

If anyone wants to see pictures of Jackson Ronald Gordon, Robert has a few up on his page. They are kind of grainy, but you can at least make out the one where he is flashing the world. For now I will look at them every day, thinking about my little boy growing inside me, trying my best to continue nurturing him and helping him prepare for the world, impatiently waiting for the day he gets to cuddle against my heart and be held by my arms.

And the head count is...

When Robert and I went to the doctor for my first visit, she informed us that she thought we might be having twins. I think we were excited about that for about ten minutes, then the reality of having two babies, not just one, started to set in. This is a blog he wrote after we got our first ultrasound and found out there was just one little Jackson in my belly:

Here is a picture of our 1! little baby!



I know this information has let a lot of you down that were hoping for a litter of little Gordon's, but to the relief of Steph and I, there is only one child in her belly. I must admit there is a heavy weight lifted. I really did think that twins would have been cool...for about twenty minutes, then I started thinking about how impossible that would be and I was really hoping we only had one.

So, when we were in the room, looking at the baby on the screen, it WAVED at us! That's insane. Then it started dancing. If you know Stephanie at all, then you know that she is a ballerina; so when the baby started dancing around the nurse said, "It looks like you have a little dancer." I think that really tore up Stephanie. It was beautiful.

This is the craziest experience ever. I know that doesn't mean anything to people that haven't had a baby, but you really don't understand how amazing something like this is until you experience it yourself. To those out there, I totally understand why everything revolves around baby moments. INSANITY.

I'M HAVING A BABY!

Here is the blog I wrote on MySpace to announce to everyone that we were expecting:

So, I'm guessing that most people who read this blog also read Robert's, and you probably already heard the news, so I'll jump right to the point....I'm pregnant!!! If you want to hear the thrilling story of how it all happened (I mean, not how it actually happened), take a look at Robert's blog. I can sum up how it all feels in one word - CRAZY. For the past month or so I have felt like I was on some hormonal roller coaster, and about two weeks ago I finally realized why.

I had started feeling really tired all the time, and I was crying a lot, which is not normal for me, and the big realization was when the smells of ketchup and peanut butter made me feel sick to my stomach. I really thought that I was just overanalyzing things though, and we had been trying for so many months I didn't want to get my hopes up and be let down. So suffice it to say I was VERY suprised when the test came back positive. The crazy thing is they don't even have you come into the doctor's office, they just schedule you for an exam around 8 weeks. So of course being the paranoid freak that I am, I wound up taking four tests over the course of about a week, just to be sure.

From the pregnancy website calculations, I should be due around February 15th, so we may have a Valentine's baby. I could never have imagined how weird my body would feel during all of this. I have never felt this exhausted before, and sometimes I get so hungry I honestly feel like I will cry or scream if I can't eat. I told Robert to watch out cause I might Hulk out on him one day if he makes me angry. Luckily I haven't really felt sick, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it stays that way.

Anyways...it feels so awesome to be able to tell everyone this, and we'll try to keep you posted on how things are going. I can't wait to be posting pictures of our baby on here!!!

Stephanie Is Pregnant!

This was Robert's blog on MySpace two weeks after we found out we were pregnant, when we finally decided to share it with the world:

Okay, so...hmmm. How do I say this?

STEPHANIE IS PREGNANT!!!

Yeah, so that's crazy. Wanna hear the story? Okay, I'll tell you.

About two months ago, Steph and I "made love." It, of course, was wonderful. Fast forward two weeks, Steph is an emotional wreck after trying to deal with my dead car while I was at work. It was a horrible experience for her and I'm not going to go into the whole thing. Then, fast forward to the next weekend, Steph and I decided on Saturday evening to go watch "Knocked Up." Truly funny. The whole time we were watching the movie, I was like, "That's us." "I've said that to you before." "That's you right there."

Anyway, after the movie, Steph and I were talking about which couple we would be if we were pregnant or had kids. Then Steph said, "I want to take a test." Those few words started a "discussion" that lasted about 30 minutes over how she would feel if she was or was not pregnant. So, at 1 in the morning we went to Walgreen's and bought some tests, and at 1:15 we had two lines. Surprised by a positive test, Steph frantically dialed her mother to talk things out. So, after an excessive overview of the instruction leaflet and an exhaustive reverification of the two lines, Steph decided she needed to take a second test. It was the same. It was confirmed.

MY BOYS CAN SWIM!!!

That's seriously the first thought I had. Then, Steph got a little upset because she didn't want to tell me she was pregnant at 2 in the morning in her jammies.

So, we've told the families, and now we wanted to tell the rest of the world. I'm freaking out. I can't believe I'm going to be a daddy. Steph and I are so excited. We'll be going to the doctor on July 11th and that's about it. I want to go ahead and ask all of you to make sure that Steph and I don't turn into parents that can't talk about anything but their babies. We both love hanging out and talking with everyone and I don't want this pregnancy to scare anyone off.

I love you all.

Keeping Pace

Our little Jackson is almost six weeks old now, and it has become very apparent to me that I never have enough time to show off his pictures as he changes or share stories of the funny things he does. So hopefully with this blog we will be able to keep friends and family up to date, and keep a journal for ourselves of these precious moments of his life. We will kick things off with some posts that Robert and I wrote on our MySpace pages when we found out we were pregnant, progressing into his birth story. It has been a wonderful journey so far and just gets better everyday.