Just a swingin'

The waiting for hurricane isaac to finally make it to Jackson was tougher than the storm itself. By the time it hit us last night it was just heavy rain, fallen branches and a short power outage sometime in the wee hours.

I went back and read an old post about hurricane ike that I wrote almost four years ago, and I realize I am feeling all the same emotions now. I am a little closer to the damage this time but so far away from where all the less fortunate are sleeping tonight. My heart hurts for them.

To ease some anxiety, just as the rain finally started to fall yesterday afternoon, four different neighbor families came over for a hurricane party involving cocktails and a pot luck dinner on our porch. If there is nothing else to be done, why not celebrate?

So I am glad to report that we not only are lucky enough to make it through the storm unscathed, but we are making new friends here in Jackson.

And on Tuesday while the skies were still clear, we made a trip to the park which resulted in baby's first swing on the playground. We're looking forward to seeing the sun again so we can do more of this. He and big brother both loved it.

Graham at eight months

Our baby is eight months old today. I feel disbelief. It doesn't seem possible. I try to be in the moment with him and appreciate his sweet and tender age, but that doesn't stop time.

Here are some things that make him unique:

• His two bottom teeth are in, and his top two just broke through this week. (Liam didn't get a top tooth until around 10 months)
• He continues to be really relaxed and happy. You'd think he was my Caribbean baby. People comment on how calm he is everywhere we go.
• He is sleeping from about 7 p.m. to 6:30 a.m. and taking two naps a day. Hallelujah. I feel human again.
• He is not mobile. He shows no signs of crawling. If we put him on his belly he just lays there and eventually starts to fuss. I've seen him roll over only about five times. If you put him on his back, that's usually where he stays. (Liam was pulling himself up and crawling by now)
• He likes sitting up (needs our assistance for this). He will sit and grab anything we put in front of him. Toys? Measuring spoon? Spatula? Mommy's bracelet? Fascinating.
• At six months he was 20 lb so he probably weighs more now. He's wearing nine to 12 month clothes.
• He does a little head bob sometimes while he is sitting up. He kind of gets his torso into it and starts bopping around. I thought it was because he was having balance issues at first, but now I realize, he's just having fun.
• He has the cutest dimple above his left eye.

We introduced baby food at six months. He didn't like it at first. That's natural, I thought he'd get over it. But two months later, I realize, he still doesn't like it. I mean, really. He acts like we are torturing him.

Every day we try to feed him something and every day it's a bit of a struggle. Rice cereal, oatmeal, banana, carrots, sweet potatoes, green peas, green beans, prunes, apple sauce...he's not interested. Just Mommy's milk. That will be all, thank you.

If he were my first kid (who, by the way, had no problem with solid food), I would be worried. But since he's my second kid, I figure he'll grow out of it. It's really just amusing. How can such a little chunk not like real food? You'd think he'd be lapping it up!

He's doing things at his own pace and keeping us enthralled. We love that he has his own personality. 

Here's how I like to do it

It's casual

Oh, I better check this out

Now, what am I supposed to do?

 Oh mom, no. Not that again.

Is anybody going to help me?

Not a chance, Mom. My lips are sealed.

Sorry, can't. I'm actually really busy looking at my tray.

I said Nooo!

Give me that spoon.

OK, that's better.

 

Here's a video of a happy baby after we give up on meal time. And I love Liam's voice in the background. Another day in the Mommy life. Precious.

M-I-S-S-I-S-S-I-P-P-I

Update. This is no longer an East Coast adventure. Another move down. One more transition tackled. We are now residents of Jackson, Mississippi, USA.

Don't think I'm not blogging because there is nothing to talk about. I could have written a book about what happened in the last three months.

Packing. Saying goodbye to friends and neighbors. More packing. Loading. Cleaning. Driving 1200 miles. Unpacking. Organizing. Craigslist. Exploring. Meeting new friends and neighbors. Raising two children. Back to work for me. New job for C.J. Whirlwind!

This is going to be a big surprise - we don't miss New Jersey. I thought I might miss the park by our house or the basement or the cooler weather, but no, I don't. I don't even miss someone pumping my gas for me, mainly because it's 50 cents cheaper per gallon in our new home state.

I don't miss the tolls or the traffic or the crowds or the cost of living or the lack of manners or the grating Jersey accents. It was a good experience. I know myself better because of it. One of my sons was born there, so I'll always have a soft spot for it. But I'm glad it's behind us.

One of our last weekend's there, Uncle Steve and Aunt Denise came to visit. We picnicked in Central Park, strolled China Town, ate in Little Italy, cruised The Met and sailed to the The Statue of Liberty. It was the perfect grand finale to our life in the Northeast.

On June 14, with the help of C.J.'s brother who flew up from Texas (big up to Keith!), we packed everything we owned into a Penske truck. The very last thing I did before we pulled out of the driveway was walk across the street to give the neighbors our snow shovel. Never again, snow shovel. Never again.

And then we were off. Three relatively uneventful days later, we arrived in Jackson at our new house. Did I mention we bought a house?

Back up about six weeks and C.J. and I had flown down to Jackson in May to do some scouting. It was my first trip to Mississippi. Right away, I noticed the differences from Jersey. Leaving the airport in the rental car it felt like we were moving in slow motion because the flow of "traffic" was moving at such a leisurely pace on such wide and well-paved roads. Then, I saw a mobile home being transported by a semi truck. You just don't see that sort of thing in the Northeast.

We were meeting the banker for lunch, and he provided detailed instructions on how to get to his office, as if it would be a long and difficult drive. And then, it was so easy to get there, I think it was only about three miles. No jug handles, road construction, traffic jams. No one flipped us off.

It was April and 85 degrees and the banker said it was a really nice, cool day so we ate outside. He took a pen, a calculator and a yellow-lined sheet of notebook paper out of his jacket pocket and figured up exactly how much house we could afford. He handed us the yellow piece of paper and said, "Here, show this to your realtor." Very official.

We sort of lost our minds. It was a combination of things. That a mortgage would be $900 less a month than renting in New Jersey (you read that right). That the bank would give us a loan. That we've been living with so little in such small places in such a transient life style for four years, we just wanted to feel normal.

So we bought a house. A house that we really love. Even if we don't have enough furniture to fill it. Even if the yard requires several hours of work every week. Even if it is an old house with some awkward (we call that charming!) features. Even if it might not be financially responsible considering our current status in life.

Whatever. The most amazing thing has happened. We...are...happy. We are happy for the first time in (I hate to say this and sound ungrateful for my many blessings) a few years.

I have a crush on Mississippi.

I love summer nights in the South. I love knowing that I never, even in the dark of night, need to put on more clothes to walk outside. It is so consistently and reliably hot. And I love the chorus of crickets and cicadas and frogs that start to sing at dusk.

And the people. I've never met nicer people anywhere. There is a reason that it is called the Hospitality State. I love neighbors who bring cookies and loaves of home-baked bread to welcome us. I love people who say nice things and mean it like "we're so glad to have you here."

It's the food. I love okra and watermelon and peaches. I love the Cajun influences and the Southern classics. The gumbo and fried green tomatoes, chicken and dumplings, corn bread, catfish and sweet tea.

It's the size of the city. Small and easy to get around but with state-capital amenities like museums, a zoo and a baseball team.

It's the language. Slow and gentle and so sweet. It's "yes ma'am" and "no ma'am" and "kin" and "gin up" and "oh my word."

It's a different world from where we've been. A much more familiar, inviting and comfortable world.

I have a little anxiety that I am going to wake up any minute in Hackensack Garden Apartments in New Jersey in January 2011. That this is just a dream. It feels a little too good to be true.

In the midst of all this adulation, we got a reality check when C.J. started residency a few weeks ago. It's living up to the name, he's been basically residing at the hospital. In my warped mind I'm thinking, "No problem, it's only a few more years now!"

Being in Mississippi makes the journey feel so much more bearable. I am so happy to be back in the South.

Wincklers in NYC

Our last family photo with Manhattan in the background

O.K., I admit, Central Park is dreamy

But not as dreamy as this: our new home

We love Mississippi!

And maybe I should mention, look who turned 6 months!

Look who's three

We just had a birthday at our house, our big boy turned three on April 26!

As his parents, we feel Liam is perfect in every way. So no surprise that he was absolutely perfect at being a "terrible two." In the last year we learned all about toddler tantrums and sleep training in the big bed and testing boundaries and picking our battles.

And we did lose a lot of battles. You want to sleep in your shoes tonight? You want to wear your pajamas to school? You refuse to get into the bath tub? No wait, you refuse to get out of the bath tub? You will only eat peanut butter? Oh, you hate peanut butter? O.K.! 

Some things aren't worth fighting over. We got the hitting, biting and throwing under control and let the other things slide to save our sanity.

We went through the phase of the emphatic and constant "no!" Then there was the "no, mommy!" which meant he only wanted me to do everything for him. Then there was the "go away!" Don't know where he learned that one but it usually meant, "I need some attention." 

In the months before and after Graham was born we had some trying times. Total melt downs over things as benign as the color of a water glass or getting out of the car when we arrive home. His teachers at school said he definitely has a stubborn streak.

So I am not sorry to see two go, even though he's had some awesome milestones in the last year. He's grown tall and thin as a rail. He is talking non stop and loves to jump and run and climb. 

He is really good at playing by himself for long stretches. I think he might be an engineer or mechanic or truck driver when he grows up - he loves things that go. Trucks, trains, planes, construction machines, helicopters, boats and cars, he plays with them nonstop. 

Lately we've noticed some major improvements in his behavior. He communicates so well, we finally are able to reason with him on some things. He's suddenly into the alphabet and counting and putting together puzzles. He is also now a complete angel at the grocery store - he patiently rides around with me and helps fill the basket.

And he is still usually the best behaved kid in the room when we take him anywhere. He's a sweet, sweet boy most of the time and completely adorable. And now he is perfectly three!

Spring fever

I am like an old man at the local cafe having coffee in the morning - I love to talk about the weather here. It's a constant reminder that I am not on home turf.

Spring, for example, has a whole different meaning in the Northeast than it does in Texas. In Texas, spring means warm to tolerably hot. It means flip flops and swimming for the first time and sunscreen.

In the Northeast spring means still cold, but bearable. It means the time of year when everything flowers beautifully. It fills your heart with hope, seeing all the gorgeous blooms. But don't even think about putting your winter clothes away. It's a trick.

I know this from last spring, but it still surprises me. I'm just not used to wearing a coat eight months out of the year. It's May, and we still use the heater at night.

I'm not complaining. It feels o.k. I'll be sweltering in the Southern sun in no time and will probably be blogging about how much I miss those things called seasons.

Beautiful blooms

I love this tree in our neighbor's backyard

Do you get the feeling of warm sunshine when you see this picture?

Nope, still need the coat!

We drawed it

Kids really do have a sixth sense. In the first two years and 10 months of Liam's life he has held a crayon for a total of 5 minutes. We have half a dozen Thomas the Train coloring books, and he couldn't care less about coloring in them.

But it seems the very day that I broke my arm, he developed a fascination with drawing. What, Mom, you can't use your left hand? Can you pleeeaasse draw this race care again?

We literally draw race cars and animals and numbers and letters for at least an hour every day.

Not that it makes a big difference if I draw with my right hand or my left, considering my lack of artistic talent. And not that he cares about the quailty of my drawings at this age. I just find it funny that my injury is coinciding with his new love for this activity.

He likes to say "we drawed a race car." Or "we drawed a lion." Then I will say, "we drew" it. And he will say "we drewed a race car."

It's precious. And I see his point. Why is the English language so tricky?

In other news, Graham blew through his six month wardrobe and has now moved on to mostly nine month outfits. He is wearing size three diapers. I am picking him up again and wow, I think he's gained five pounds in the last two and a half weeks.

He is growing like crazy, it's unbelievable. When he goes to day care he's going to look like Will Ferrel in Elf among all those other normal-sized infants.

He is almost three and a half months and he's made that magical transformation from newborn to baby. He is grabbing toys with his hands and bringing them to his mouth and reaching for the dangling animals over his play mat. We've almost got a giggle out of him.

He is still a content, patient and happy little guy and only cries occasionally in the evening if he is tired. We are eternally grateful that he is so easy going.

The hardest part about having two kids is that it's hard to hug them both at once without the little one getting injured. Your love multiplies but your attention becomes divided, and it's a little sad that they have to share. I wish there were two of me sometimes.

Big brother is getting used to it. Sort of.

Today we were looking on the computer at photographs from our trip to the zoo. Graham was sitting in his chair cooing. Liam said, "He's talking to us. He wants to see the animals."

So I said, "should I pick him up so he can see the pictures too?" And Liam said, "yes."


Now that is progress. Especially since just a few days ago when I was holding Graham, Liam said, "how about Daddy hold the baby?" Ha!

It doesn't look like much to me but C.J. says yep, that's broken

Last weekend I woke up to this - Daddy and his boys watching Bambi. Now how sweet is that? (No TV before age two doesn't apply to the second kid, right?)

I drawed the race cars

Daddy drawed them better

Sorry your arm's not working, Mom. Look what I can do with mine!

I can use both arms!

Happy smiles

Ole Miss and radial head fracture

Sorry to leave you hanging, dear readers.  If you didn't hear yet, let me fill you in on where the adventure is headed to next. (drum roll) Mississippi!

It's not Austin, but we are pretty darn happy. And surprised! We weren't expecting that. It's a great program, it's 1,200 miles closer to Texas, it's warmer, it's cheaper, it's ER.

So we were really, really grateful and happy on that Friday Match day. We rode that high all the way until Monday when I went out for an evening jog in some unseasonably warm March weather, fell and broke a bone in my arm (I wish I could blame it on a crack in the sidewalk, but I think I tripped over my own feet).

Let me translate what a broken arm means. I can still drive. I can wash my hair with one hand. I can awkwardly wiggle into my clothes. After two weeks I can now type with just a little tenderness. But I cannot pick up the baby. That's right, I have a three month old, and I cannot pick him up.

C.J. is now Mr. Mom. He's burping and changing diapers and washing dishes and everything else (placing baby in nursing position...in the middle of the night...oh, it's bad, folks.). Nana is cooking and cleaning. These poor people are exhausted going to their jobs and doing mine too.

We've hired help - my new left arm is named Gabby. She comes every day because I cannot take care of the kids alone (ladies, make note, go out jogging, tell your husband you tripped and broke your arm and you too can get a daytime nanny!). And did I mention that I broke my left arm and that I am left-handed? 

I wish I could now say "April Fools!" But I'm not making this up. It's a fiasco. So ridiculous it is funny. Well, it will be funny. Some day.

But I'm on the mend. It should be back to normal in a few short weeks, which leaves plenty of time for packing. At least I didn't break both arms. It could be much worse.

And even a broken arm cannot dampen our mood. We are thrilled to be moving on to the next stage, to be moving closer to family to be fulfilling a dream that's been a long time coming. C.J. is over the moon. Five more weeks of rotations, and we will be calling him Dr. Winckler.