jackson bo backson

listening to: tom petty

sitting on my friend's couch. 

cannot sleep tonight.  so here i am.  interrupting blog auto-pilot.
it's so time for a little jackson update, ya?
i think so.


tonight i dropped him off at the airport to go up to san francisco for the weekend with his pops. ugh, letting your baby go for chunks of time away isn't always the easiest task. especially when you are a mom that planned to have twelve kids since kindergarden and doesn't have a little one to keep me company while he's gone.  i become more social and find myself compelled to tell my friends whilst at dinner in my mommy voice, "you're going to grow tall if you eat more of your green trees and carrots!"

we have had some pretty great times together recently.  it's been so comfortable staying home with him everyday (oh did i mention i am not a full-time employee anymore? yeah, let go...)

so taking over my role as full-time mom again every waking minute of the day has been so rewarding.  disneyland trips, zoo trips, mall adventures, picking up germs from the mass public, falling off trikes without shirts on, baby pools, beach trips, bacteria-infested play gyms that wreak of soggy cherrios and diapers, playdates where dressing up is not optional... to harassing trader joes clerks for red balloons.  turning daily mom and son days into the most fun yet has been our goal + we are stickin' to it.  i have been trying my best to go on runs with him every morning: he does one lap then sits on the stairs collecting rolley-pollies.  remember that snail story? {see below}

listening to: The Weeks
with new bangs.

if you are insect sensitive, this post is not for you.

recently i go for a 2-5 mile run either on my parent's track, or if it's early enough, around san clemente. jackson loves to come with me on the track. he runs one time around (4xs is 1/4 mile) and then he gives up. i don't blame him. if i was a little person, i would barely make it. so to keep his attention, i have him look for snails on the stairs while he waits for me to finish.


this one morning there was a plethora of snails out. i told him i would find him a snail every time i came around and add it to his family of snails. he got so excited every time i would deliver a slimmy snail to his chubby hands. his face was classic. he acted like he was opening up a new present when he saw me rounding the corner.


about nine snails deep, i stopped to ask him their names. he told me, "thomas, this one is percy, this one is the mommy melis, this one is the baby, this one is spencer, this one is my friend jack, this one is my friend kaden, this one is the grandma, this one is mimi, " and... so ... on... and so forth. it was so funny. they seemed to try to escape his adoration as fast as they could go but as we all know they can't move too quickly. i circle the track one more time, with a fresh snail in my right...


to my dismay, all the snails were squooshed.
crunched.
dead.


he began to walk up the stairs and said, "mom you done?"
M: jack did you kill all your snails?
J: yeah they died.
M: why did you kill them?
J: i don't know.


the book, of mice and men came to mind. the poor snail family was murdered by my toddler and he doesn't even care.


sheesh.

--
Posted By Melissa to Your Shade Of Grey at 8/19/2009 07:33:00 PM

well, will-power hasn't changed much to slaughter all the innocent rolley-pollies he collects. eight months later ...... his hands aren't as chubby and he knows better after watching many nat geo episodes about earth's creepy crawly creatures.  without any doubt, the dichotomy between his love for them as if they were his own soon changes into carelessness on a turn of a coin when the smashing begins; still baffles me.  rolley-pollies don't crunch as loud as the snails.  they sound more like those VO5 commercials where the girl crunches her dry and frizzy hair in the microphone.

sometimes we will spend hours searching grass and any sidewalks for these little insects.  i am in charge of holding the collection of vulnerable polleys, following him close behind while he asks me to "woll them ova mom!"

he has been entertaining me with his translation of words as of late.  here are just a few examples off the cuff of this small shade of memory i have:

hiccups = makeups

binoculars = noculars

zits = zips

giraffe = giafe

freckles = sun-kissess

bottom = bamo
look = wook

helicopter = ehcopter

train = choo-choo! train
love = wove
this = vis

pretend = betend

red = wed

grandpa = gwanpa

lindsay = windsey

three = free

clifford (the big red dog) = clippard

little = wittle

is it ridiculous if i don't want to correct him?  i restrain my innate instinct to correct him almost every grammar or word penalty; i just love how he talks! i know he won't stay small for too long but maybe i can keep his temporary vocabulary a smidgen longer? man, i sure hope so.

carrying on...

last weekend i had some of my considerate friends ask for me to loan jackson for the night.  they don't have children yet and just love jackson.  ben and sarah.  they are some of the nicest people i know.  so giving and generous with their time, talents and friendship.  they have watched him before for me and they told me that he said they lived in a castle (they live in a mansion) with a homeless man (ben has a beard).

to see photos of them: jenn king photography {some reason i can't upload anymore pictures?}

ben and sarah took jackson to the movies in tustin.  jackson has been gushing over this dragon movie so they decided to take him to it 3-D.  they told me they were able to grab chipotle before and all he wanted was rice because he didn't want holes...
+++ earlier that day we were at the doctors and i showed him diagrams of the human body.  he was asking me lots of questions about the anatomy, why we have this and that.  we got to the stomach.  there was a picture of a stomach with holes inside.  he asked me why this stomach had holes?  i told him that it had too much mcdonalds so this person's tummy hurt.  it makes holes.  he told me he didn't want holes, so he doesn't want mcdonalds anymore. 
... a little healthy-food-mom to son talk aka: propaganda... doesn't hurt if it benefits, right?