Almost famous

With his outstanding 3-year-old talent, it was only a matter of time before Sports Illustrated was forced to take notice of Brady Hoots. A little earlier than I thought, and not for anything that has to do with his actual athletic abilities, but Brady's pregame video has gone viral and has been picked by local news as well as Sports Illustated and USA Today. As of now, it has gotten 145,000 views on Facebook, which is over 10 times the population of Eric's hometown, and basically, is nuts.

Here is a YouTube version for your viewing pleasure (because I don't know how to link Facebook).

 

Here is what the video doesn't tell you:

-Brady was donning his full uniform on prior to the song, but insisted on putting his warm-up shirt back on when the song started.

-I was not the videographer (it was Leslie Davis, Hubert's wife), so I can take no credit for capturing the sweet moment. I was the makeshift manager who Brady the his warmups to after the song.

-Reading through stranger comments on WRAL TV's Facebook account was a parenting ego boost. Lots of praise for raising him right, respecting the song, etc. Of course, we basically have nothing to do with that. Monkey see, monkey do. If the players mooned the crowd during the national anthem, Brady's buns would also be on full display.
-Brady got in the bath tonight for the first time in a few nights.  When he got it said bathtub, he was still wearing the same yellow socks from the video.  Tonight is Wednesday, the game was Monday, which means he had the socks on for over 48 hours.  Telling Brady to change his clothes because they've been on too long is something I never have to do about never, so the yellow socks just slipped through the cracks.  Meanwhile, he probably changed every other item of clothing 12 times during that period.
-I have an ongoing feud with the usher in our area regarding my children in the aisle.  Basically, nothing (or nobody) is allowed in the aisles at any time (walking down to get to your seat is barely acceptable).  Of course, the aisle is exactly where my children want to be.  Because duh, then you don't have to look at the back of the heads of people who are 3 feet taller than you.  Thankfully, Brady and Jackson's mother is a rule-breaking rebel who lives on the edge.
 

Freethrow focus

Pardon the shaky camera... Jackson's intense breathing gets me every time.

Puke

Warning: this blog post contains references to vomit and poop and should not be read while eating.

Dealing with other people's vomit is a right of passage as a mother.  In my 3+ years as a mom, there have been limited vomit experiences, but I have caught both children's vomit in my hands and now, I can say, I have also caught it in my hair.

On Sunday night, the kids and I went to the basketball game and exhausted after finally getting them to bed, I got myself into bed.  Around 10:30, Brady woke up yelling for water and he told me his tummy hurt.  A smarter mom would have ushered him into the bathroom, but not me -- I laid down next to him.  A few minutes later, he emptied the entire contents of his stomach (and there was a lot there) onto his bed... and me.  Vomit was literally dripping from my hair.  I ran him into the bathroom where he went for round 2 and understandably, was crying when he was done.  Which, of course, woke his brother up, so now I have two crying boys and a puke-covered head.  And a husband who is not home.  I called Eric and told him to please get home quickly.  Except I don't think I said please.

I cleaned Brady up, brought him to our bathroom and jumped into the shower.  Brady was actually a very brave patient and asked me sweetly if he was going to have to go back to sleep in his bed.  He also asked if I would get him another jersey to wear. By the time I got myself together and put clean clothes on Brady (we even had to replace the socks), Jackson had put himself back to sleep and Eric was arriving home.  Brady got in our bed and had only one more round of puking around midnight -- this time he was able to give fair warning to make it to the bathroom.

Jackson woke again, around 1:30 and had a dirty diaper.  He'd been struggling with tummy problems of his own all afternoon and evening.  I brought him to our bed and I could tell that he was in pain even though his eyes were closed.  He let out the longest fart in the history of farts followed by the loudest and most explosive poop in the history of poops.  And yes, I know those are bold assertions, but they happen to be absolutely accurate.  I changed his diaper and PJ's which could not contain the toxic waste that came out of this sweet boy.  Perhaps after dealing with poop for 3+ years, I am partially immune to its smells and am generally unbothered.  But this was not poop.  This was vomit out of the butt and smelled just how you think that might smell.  And I hate vomit.

So the rest of the night ended as they often do.... with everyone in our bed.  Everyone woke up happy and healthy and all was well....until mommy's tummy started hurting.  But at least my hair was pulled back and I made it safely to the toilet.

Project 365

My project has been taken to completion and the book is published!  Here are a few pages...

Recipe for a nap



Most of Jackson's naps are spent in his crib.  But sometimes, Jackson refuses to do this, particularly on days that he sneaks in a quick car nap in the morning (the lengths I go to to avoid these are extensive).  But if I lie down with him, I can get to him to sleep.  And afternoon naps are important to his well-being and more importantly, mine.  When he only wants to nap with me, its a good excuse for me to lie down or nap myself, and with Brady napping I have that luxury, so my complaints are not as strong during the day than at night.  But the video below shows how Jackson puts himself to sleep. It is a condensed 10 minute clip.

 

 

 

Lots of hair twirling and face smashing, combined with some ear fondling and a splash of eye poking... put it all together and that is Jackson's recipe for a nap.  Not, I should note, a recipe for mine.



Tempermental toddler

I love that my kids are uniquely themselves.  I find it interesting how two kids raised in the same household can turn out so different.  Obviously, nature has a strong argument in the nature vs. nurture debate.  Its one reason I'm quick to deflect credit when I get compliments about how sweet of a child Brady is.  He is for sure, I'm just not sure how much of a part I play in that.  "Sweet" probably isn't the first word that comes to mind to describe me.  Or even the 10th word.  And if I take credit for the good, that means I have to take responsibility for the bad.  And that might be some coming.

I'm sure I'm forgetting something, I but I can't remember a tantrum that Brady threw before the age of 3.  He'd get upset, sure, but anyone who's had a toddler knows the difference between upset and UPSET.  Even when he turned 3 and got more willful, his episodes tended to be pretty mild compared to some cases I've seen.  I have a hunch that Jackson's temperament might make the 2's a different experience.  The video below is a fairly typical moment in our house when Jackson is upset.  We were playing in the playroom and he flipped out when I suggested he shoot a different ball (the one he had was too heavy).  So I turned on the camera so he could see himself, mostly just trying to distract him.  You can see the moment when the switch is flipped and he remembers that he is supposed to be mad.  You'll have to take my word that I did not pinch him.

One of Jackson's most strong qualities is persistence and I will hold on to the hope that this quality will pay off in the future.  He doesn't say much, but he makes his desires known.  Yesterday, we were in Eric's office before the game and some friends were visiting with their little boy.  Their son was shooting on the hoop and the dad, Jeremy, was watching.  Jackson, who was holding a ball, appeared below him and had backed up into his legs.  Not knowing what he was doing, Jeremy took a step back, and Jackson took a step back.  I had to explain to Jeremy that Jackson expected him to lift him up so he could shoot the ball. And predictably, after one shot, he backed him down again.... and again.

The list goes on forever.  Jackson loves books and will pick one up and thrust it at the person he wants to read to him.  A few days ago he was with me in the doctor's office and as I was checking out, he wandered over to a lady reading TIME magazine.  He crawled up on the chair next to her and next thing I know, he's making ferocious animal noises.  He loves animals and is pretty serious about his noises.  He hit the jackpot and found a picture of a lion in TIME. He loves (LOVES) food and expects that everyone who is eating food should give him some of theirs.  Which they usually do.  I suspect that people think I don't feed him.

The contrast between the two kids works, and I'm glad my lower-key child is the oldest, since he is well equipped to deal with Jackson's high drama.  He usually concedes when Jackson wants something and will share his sucker with his brother because like me, he probably doesn't want to deal with his wrath if he withholds it.

But besides the sleeping problems and the occasional tantrum, I am loving this age and loving this kid.  He's got a load of personality and while his crying grates my soul, his laughter lights up my life.

Sleeping with the enemy v.2

I haven't given an update on Jackson's sleeping habits lately, mostly, because there is not update.  The status quo remains -- that is, he still sucks at sleeping.

Every blue moon, I decide I'm going to put my foot down and establish good healthy sleep patterns for my child.  Last night was one of those nights.  Here's how it went:

11:00: Jackson wakes.  This is fairly typical and many nights, this is my cue to go to bed.  On a normal night, he'll come to our bed, wake up a few times, and grope at me throughout the night.  But last night, I went into his room, told him he needed to stay in his crib tonight, and actually (miraculously), got him to lay down, put a blanket over him, sang a few songs, and walked out.  I went to bed feeling cocky...I got this!

12:30: Jackson wakes again.  I tried the same thing as before, explaining to Jackson that he would be sleeping in his crib tonight, a novel experience.  With the help of Elmo, Mickey Mouse, and a few other friends, I coaxed him to lie down and I rubbed his back, sang him a few songs, and was feeling really positive about the whole thing.  I got this!  Then I tried to walk out of his room.  He was not pleased.

12:50: After 15 minutes of unrelaxing reading in my bed, Brady walks in my room to inform me that Jackson was crying.  I let Brady get in bed with me and a few minutes later, went back to Jackson's room

1:00: I repeat earlier process and once again, manage to get Jackson to lie down.  I sing to him, rub his back, and stand at his crib a few minutes willing him to sleep.  Feeling the lure of my own bed, I walk away.  Mistake.  Jackson cries, stands up, and I am unable to get him to lie back down.  So I tell him goodnight, and walk out.

1:15: I can tell by the cries that Jackson has lost his pacifier (when he's especially ticked off, he stands up and throws it out of his crib), so I go back in, give him his paci, and give him a little hug to calm him down over the crib.  He's groping at my hair like a drug fiend getting his first hit after a dry period.  But of course, just a little dose of the drug is not satisfying.  Jackson was standing up at the crib, head resting on the rails, stroking my head and his eyes started to close.  My chances of getting him to fall asleep in his crib were better standing versus lying down.  I told him goodnight and walked out.

1:30: Jackson is crying harder than he has all night and I know that he is nowhere close to giving in.  Me, on the other hand, am feeling very deflated, so I delivered Brady back to his room and replaced him with a very stubborn Jackson who was pleased to get his way.

Unfortunately, the story doesn't end here.  I actually would be fine(ish) with Jackson sleeping in our bed if he was like Brady and just kept to himself (except for a few stray kicks to the kidneys).  But instead he is on me like white on rice.  I thought after an hour of crying he'd pass out, but like most things last night, I was wrong.  Its hard to describe what Jackson actually does to me in bed, but think of the cutest leech you've ever seen and that's Jackson.  He goes for hair or skin, and not just his hands.  Many times while he is wrestling around, he lifts up his head for the "pillow," which is actually me, his human pillow.  But unlike an actual pillow that is comfortable, my boney hips, back, or face that he finds isn't as comfortable, so he ends up flailing around some more trying to find a comfortable spot.  Once he does, I usually can take it only so long and try to move to get comfortable myself, which restarts the process.  While his eyes were presumably shut the whole time, it took him an hour until he was asleep deeply enough for me to extract myself from him. And my anxiety was high at this point, and my blood was boiling, so I really had no chance of sleep until he was completely off of me.  So around 2:30, I was able to finally relax and find my happy place, not to be disturbed until Brady rolled in my room at 6 am asking if I would snuggle.  The two boys fought over some mommy real estate and after some maneuvering, everyone was happy and we all managed a little more sleep.

What I learned: half-hearted commitment is not going to work with this child.  I need to be prepared to let him cry and cry and cry if I'm going to break the cycle.  What I did last night only showed him that if he cries long enough, he gets what he wants.  And it provided me with about an hour less sleep than usual (which I find insufficient in the first place) and made me contemplate trading Jackson in for a newer model.  Actually, an older model would be nice.

So I'm off to bed. After a fresh defeat, my heart is not in it tonight so chances are that when Eric returns home very late tonight after a road trip to Clemson, he will be greeted in bed by at least half his family.  And if he's really lucky, all of them.

Scolded by Siri

This is what happens when Jackson gets a hold of my phone while I am reading "Curious George" to Brady.  He holds down the main button, which prompts Siri to listen to a command or question.  We were reading about the "nearby farm." Clearly, something was lost in translation.