THE KNACK OF FLYING: Time-ING!!!

Yesterday, with the help of my Co-Conspirator/Protege Heidi, Josh and I escaped M-, and took off to charge around the highways and byways of South Eastern Ohio. Freedom, even with Roo in tow, is a wonderful thing. Most of the time, I am ok staying home, doing the Mommy-thing...but every once in a while, the isolation gets very twingy... I love Josh, but I swear there are days that I have held him or nursed him so much that I feel like my entire body is coated in cobwebs and raw egg yolk -- my whole skin seems to be completely oversensitized, and the idea of anyone or anything touching me a moment longer just makes me cringy and on edge...It's been about two months since the last time I had a haircut, and I was given flippin' Cousin It a run for his money. Bangs should not be at sub-shoulder level unless you're a Hanna-Barbera cartoon, and my hair was adding to the whole Cobweb feeling, and for roughly two weeks, I've been in-house, and just dying to get out. (In a weird paradox, if I do get out of the house more than once a week, I am equally anxious to get back in my house, and get Josh back in my arms, and Jon back by my side -- and then I just feel like I'm overdrawn at the energy bank. Out once is refreshing. Out twice just seems like way too much.)

Just for a hoot, I convinced Heidi to drive to C-, to hassle the parent-folk. We caught Mom twenty minutes before the end of her planning period, and just made her lose her mind. When the bell rang for the end of the period, we nearly had to get a crowbar to pry Josh loose from her arms. He just smiled and cooed up at her, and Mom, well, you know Mom...She was laughing and crying and goofy all over again. Josh has this sweet, ornery grin that will get him out of trouble just as soon as it gets him into trouble. ( I am already perusing the necessary bats to use to beat off the impending hordes of females later on. For the record, bats would have no effect on my mother.) I'm not saying that Dad wasn't just as impressed with how big Josh is getting (he's about fifteen or sixteen pounds now, and LONNNNGGGG!!!) but for an English teacher, my Mom tends to be amazingly inchoherant when Josh is present.

(Our friend, Joe, will know exactly which comedian I am referencing, but for the moment, the name escapes me. ) Once, Joe told me about a fellow, who when asked about his success in comedy responded, "It's all about the Time-ing...Ti-MING...TI-ming"

My life sometimes feels like a cartoon. In the past, you've read about Helen and Harry -- the Greats (Aunt and Uncle) across the street. They have been absolutely wonderful, and could not POSSIBLY adore Josh more if he were their very own...(of course, if you ask Helen, Josh IS "her boy"). Anyhow, both of them will snag Josh anytime I need a break...and have even loaned me their truck on my "Mom's Day Off" (Jon and I have only one car and live about an forty-five minutes from the next big town). Josh has a blast, and while I suspect he doesn't sleep as much across the street as he does here (I have mentioned that some of Jon's relatives seem to be somewhat, erm, wired for sound, right?!), Harry and Helen have been lifesavers -- mine, Josh's -- time and time again. They are always here for us, and I try very hard to make sure they have as much time with Josh as they want. That said, the time they want is usually right about the time I have just started nursing Josh, or just after his eyes have shut after I've been trying to get him to sleep for the last two hours. Now, in the first instance, you can't just detach from a nursing baby...especially one with the suction capabilities of Josh (I'm renting him out to Hoover). Not only will Josh get riled in all sorts of ways, but (and again, wish I had known this prior to the fact), once he gets started...I can't exactly turn off the milk-pipeline -- it's just there, or everywhere. And if Josh has just dropped off to sleep, I need a fifteen minute grace-period of just holding him and snuggling, before he is out and down for a real nap...if he's disturbed before that grace period, he's up and fussy for another hour.

In a perverse way, the consistancy is darned amusing (and really, all of our other friends and relatives seem to be able to pick the most perfect and convenient times for visits or calls), but with Harry and Helen,I can almost time to the second when they will ring the doorbell (and I just had to pick the long, loud Winchester chimes) or when the phone will ring (and it will be the one time in the day that I don't have the cordless on me, and that the phone is three rooms away -- trying to find a phone with a suddenly anxious, fussy baby is not as much fun as it sounds). One time, Harry was ringing and pounding on the door while Helen was ringing up on the phone. AARGGGGHHH!!!! Please don't get me wrong. I like company...adult-type company. I really do. I encourage it, as I get to sit back in an unattached-to-Josh-fashion and catch my breath. Really, I love that. I just am absolutely convinced that poor Harry and Helen are taking all of their entrance cues from a bad Laurel and Hardy sketch. Josh is a very persistant little fellow, and when he's hungry, and as he gets bigger and stronger, it becomes that much more difficult to get up and find a phone, or detach him long enough to get decent and dash to the door. The ringing doorbell and the pounding only become more insistant, or the voice on the answering machine only gets more agitated and concerned. On the few occasions that I just hunkered down and pretended I couldn't hear the phone, the doorbell would start up shortly after...on the three occasions that I have not tried to get immediately to the door, due to nursing in a far room, these two dears have gone away with their feelings hurt, and then I feel like I just kicked a puppy, and I am guilted by that for the rest of the day. Before Josh, these two would never come over to our house...but Josh now seems to be community property, the one kitten in a room of second-graders, and everyone of them wants to hold and pet him, and no one is happy unless he's in their possession, and every other second-grader is glaring at the kid who has the kitten. Well, Joshua...this is another fine mess you've gotten me into...

******
5-14-06
My first Official Mother's Day.

Well this was a doozy of a weekend. Yesterday, Jon, Josh, Torey (Jon's brother) and I trekked to the Wilds of W.Laf. to hang out with the cast and crew, change Torey's clothes, drop off the Roo, and proceed to take Torey to the prom in Dover. Mom had just stepped out to grab a food stash for all of us (silly Mommy), and we were running late. Josh ended up with the neighbors, Grandma and Grampa O. and we caught Mom long enough to give her flying hugs and kisses and bring in the groceries. Torey, aside of some understandable nervousness, looked very cool in his pengy-suit, and we dropped him off amid the ruffles and sashes of a very pretty set of highschool tropical fish, and attempted to find our own dinner. As usual, I got lost trying to figure out where the heck the mall was (this is an ongoing thing with me, I assure you), and we finally gave up and figured that since we were in the land of Amish, we would do as the Amish did, and went to one of our most favorite restaurants with a gorgeous dining room that overlooked an impeccable, greening valley. The weather was hibernation weather -- temperture dropping, cold, drizzly rain, but I was with my Jon, so I was very happy...of course, I would have been happier if Amish Country didn't roll up the streets at four p.m. every day, but technically, I am on the "broker" side of things right now, and we don't really have room in our little place for all of the things I think I need from all of the little nook and cranny stores up there. Still, it was lovely. We discovered that Amish peanut butter syrup when added in a little driz to coffee with cream is fabulous. We discovered as well that the peanut butter creme pie was vastly superior to the promising butterscotch pie. As we walked out, it was still cold and yucky, but it gave us an excuse to walk a little closer together.

Mother's Day itself was a bit ouchy. Mom was sick, and it was obvious that if we had stayed as long as we originally intended, that we'd just be underfoot, and she'd be trying to play hostess when she needed to focus on feeling better, and that wouldn't have been kind. Poor Mom, she was feeling so rough that she even agreed to our cutting the visit short...and any other time she would be trying to extend our time together. Frankly, she had me really worried, but she was determined that we head out.

For Mother's Day/Our Anniversary/My Birthday, Jon got me a little reminder, in the form of a "REBORN" doll. Apparently, there are people out there that take collector's dolls (in this case an Ashton-Drake "Austin"), and repaint and detail them until they look like they ought to be breathing. I had discovered this one on ebay, and I was alternately fascinated and enthralled, and (admittedly, just a little scared) at how much it looks like Josh. I had been commenting to Jon that some day, Josh will be as tall as he, or my brothers are (at least six feet, unless I miss my guess) and will be dashing in and out so often that we'll forget how we got sucked into this whole parenting thing to begin with. A few days ago, this little doll arrived in the mail (heck, if I had known you could just get babies in the mail, I wouldn't have whined so much about my missing epidural...this is going to be a great thing to tell Josh when he starts wanting to know about the birds and the bees thing, though...Oh, What Fun!!! Now, c'mon, folks, part of the fun of being a parent is that you have the ability to warp, --ah ,I mean, "form" impressionable young minds. "Yes, Josh. Your Daddy had to pay extra shipping and handling for you....and we almost ran out of stamps.") Now, no matter what, I will have something tiny and sweet to hold onto.

For all of my teasing about Helen and Harry, though...they did do something extra special. On Friday, I recieved a card with no return address. Inside, on the cover was "For My Mommy". When I opened the card, there was a pen-drawn outline of Josh's right hand...and the words, "With Love, Joshua"... ...and I'm getting sniffly right now just thinking about it.