Jack’s Own Country Club

I’m not even remotely the Country Club type. A lot of our pals are– my sister and her family included– and our’s is a nice one… but I don’t fit in. A few years ago I went out to meet my sister and nieces for lunch by the pool. I arrived all pale and wearing a hat and wasn’t a little horrified to realize that both girls and my sister had completely blended in with the landscape there in such a way that I couldn’t distinguish them from the other little tan bodies and CC mommies stretched out on lounge chairs. Egad. It made me feel like I was lost in Meijer’s all over again.

It’s a pity, too, because some of the poolside menu food is pretty good.

Jack and I started our own club today. We’re still working on a name– but, in the meantime, we’re enjoying the snacks (Cheerios for the small fry and a Heath Bar for me) by our own pool. It’s nifty– and a bargain for only $7.99 from Target. It’s blue and has little fishies as part of the pattern. Pretty. I filled it up with the hose and by late afternoon it had warmed to bath water temperature. Perfect for my little fish. We’re a very exclusive club– not just anyone can stick their toes in our pool… The lifeguard’s not bad looking either.

AND– bonus– we have cool toys. Squirty frogs and a wee watering can that makes marvelous little fountains.

We had elections– I’m the head of the board for now and we made Daddy financial officer. Jack’s taking on “Member-at-Small” for now but he’s also in charge of recruiting new members. We’re checking into dues– for now we just ask that guests not splash too much.

Stop by. But call first. We close at naptime.

Road Trip!

The long standing tradition in our house was to take Father’s Day on the road somewhere. This typed, Jack and I took the newly crowned Papa in our household on a road trip East to Gettysburg.

I love Gettysburg. I have dear friends there that I don’t see nearly enough; a frozen custard stand that is unbelievably delicious; a breakfast place that is the best in Penn state; a fabric store that never fails to deliver a shockingly perfect bolt; and, oh, yeah, the national park there, too.

We had a good time. Jack, as I’ve typed before, is an excellent traveler. Very laid back. Very easy rider (but without the leather or bugs in his teeth). We made it as far as Breezewood, PA, before stopping for the night and leaving the last 60 miles (through the twisty turny mountains) for the next morning. Jack slept most of the way while I worked on his little “man dress” for a portrait at Rob Gibson’s “world famous” photography studio and later read from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix to Robby.

In G-burg we hit the usual stops and made sure to get Jacky his own little Gettysburg College t-shirt (go Bullets!) before stopping for a quick meal at the Lincoln Diner where he charmed the waitresses. We even got in a little picnic at Devil’s Den before we left for Michigan two days later.

Our pals live on a little farm lot on the edge of town (quite near to Highway 15). It’s a beautiful piece of property and the sight of many of our adventures. The latest was a leisurely barbeque and some serious catching up while testing the old punchlines and trying out some new ones. In the middle of dinner there was even an impromptu fox hunt when pal Speedy suddenly lept from the table and went tearing out the front door with rifle in hand loading as he went…. his chicken flock has been decimated by a local poodle and a fox… Poor little Sarah hen and Scot rooster are all that survive. Of course, anywhere else one might be startled to suddenly have a rifle barrel go tearing through the room in the hands of a wild eyed man but in Gettysburg it’s just something you do till it’s time to hit the custard stand.

Jacky sat for an ambrotype image– dressed in his little dress with his great-great-great-great grandfather’s pocket watch and my corral beads. It’s a little blurry but the poor babe had to sit still for 5 long seconds. Count out 5 seconds. It’s not so easy.

The nicest part though came on the long drive back to Michigan. Usually, emerging into the light on the other side of the Allegheny tunnel makes me sad to think of another trip ended and the distance between friends and I…. but this time, there was my sweet boy asleep in the back with his neck all cocked funny and his lips making little movements. Robby and I got in all but the last chapter of Harry Potter… and the drive wasn’t so bad.

Of course, this is all just a warm up to get the little fellow to Antietam where the country is really beautiful. Maybe next year.

Happy Belated Birthday Little Blog!

For those of you keeping track… this weekend marked the 2nd birthday of this little blog.

Just think– at two we can expect it to speak in full sentences! Hooray! It’s all up from here.

Thanks for reading.

(And thank you, Wally Friend.)

9 Months In… 9 Months Out

Today is a big day. Today Jack has been “out” as long as he was “in”…. and I wouldn’t trade my squashy belly for anything now. (Though I do miss the little games we played when it was just me and him…)

This is a fun stage. He’s got 4 misaligned little teeth (when he closes his mouth it’s like a staple-free paper sealer… the two front middle teeth haven’t come in but are flanked by the two that have while underneath the two middle bottom teeth have…) this amount of enamel has opened him up to the world of veggie puff treats, wagon wheel puffs (they look like mini funnel cakes.) and the ever popular Cheerio. He’s getting down the pincer grasp and manages now to actually get them into his mouth. (In the beginning they’d get stuck from his clammy hands to his forehead where they’d stay stuck till we peeled them off… or the dog would find them…) This weekend he had his first table food with us– I had some canned peaches and cut them into miniascule pieces that he seemed pleased with. He’s a good eater, our Jack.

And so mobile! He’s figured out the stairs and most of the first floor. So off he scoots around the living room pulling himself up to investigate what might have been left on the coffee table and then off to the hallway where last night’s paper might still be then on and up the stairs. He loves the stairs. I love them, too. They tire him out. He takes a better nap and wakes up happier when he’s been tired out a little.

The little black dog, however, is not amused by this newfound mobility. His world is shrinking to the places he still has that Jack hasn’t found. Poor pup.

Last summer at this time Jack was wiggling about in my belly in earnest– we’d spend the evenings watching my stomach morph under his little movements and count the times he’d flop or flip. It doesn’t seem possible that a whole year has flown by and that now we watch those flips and flops across the floor.

And this weekend marked our first official Father’s Day. Jack gave Rob a tie and a performance review (it’s an engineer thing). And Jack gave me a new perspective on Father’s Day. I still miss my Dad with a huge sucking hole in my heart on days like this… but now I get to watch my boy and HIS Dad and it helps balance it all out a little.

Tonight, if you should stop to toast the Summer Solstice, maybe take a moment and toast our boy, too. And wish good things for him.

Reason #617 I’m going to hell in a Moses Basket…

I did it. The thing I swore I’d never do.

I used the stork parking at the grocery store. One of the designated spots for “Expectant Mothers and Mothers With Children Under 1 Year Old”… Jack wasn’t even with me.

I’m such a bad person.

I’ll open doors for strollers and hope for an absolution. Or annulment. Or whatever it is that the Pope gives people like me.

Spam. A lot.

Dear Gentle Reading People,

A few words on spam. Not Spam– which, isn’t nearly as horrid as its reputation. It’s delicious when fried. No. I speak of spam. (Which should be Spam for all its infamy.)

This blog pulls in a lot of spam. Most of it is has been pretty tame and runs along the lines of debt consolidation, Texas Hold Em Poker, and gambling sights. Occasionally there would be something for viagra or on penis enlargement. (My mother-in-law once called to ask if one of the posted comments was a joke from one of my friends… it dealt with penis enlargement and was a little graphic. I assured her that it wasn’t one of my pals– though I could see her confusion.)

Lately I’ve averaged about 200 spammy comments a day. It’s been not so awful to deal with thanks to the nice people at BlackList…but this week I’ve had to delete them individually. I don’t have that kind of time.

So, for now, the solution is to close off the comments option. It stinks. I like reading what you think. Some of you have pithy little responses. Most of you know how to get a hold of me via email. Comment that way for now if you’d like until I fix this. For those of you that loved reading the comments section I’m very sorry. I wish I knew how to fix this but I don’t and He That Does is out of the country. (Come home, Wally!!!!)

To recap– I’m not endorsing, have endorsed, or am planning to endorse any penis enlarging pills, cheap thrills, gambling methods, mortgage companies, or Canadian drug alternatives. If I change my mind you’ll all be the first to know.

And most importantly… it’s spam I hate. Not Spam.

Your pal,
CommonTerri

Faster than a speeding bullet

Jack’s definitely on the move. It’s getting tricky to keep him safe and the house somewhat battened down. He’s figuring things out.

I’m anxious.

So many places for his little fingers to be pinched or his head to bump. I shudder to think of what goes into his mouth.

And yet I don’t think we should go out and buy the whole line of Safety First gadgets. I want Jack to be safe, yes, but he lives here. He needs to learn to negotiate his world. I disagree with the idea that a house needs to be baby proofed to the point of a padded cell.

Still. My house is one thing. The rest of the world and all its lead paint, sharp corners, hot stoves, kitchen knives, jagged toothed dogs, tobacco smoke clouds, and crossing guardless intersections is another. For a while I’ll keep it under lock and key.

Our Mother Goose

Jack be nimble!
Jack be quick!
(We’ve packed away the candlesticks…)

Hey Diddle Diddle
Jack loves the dog’s middle
He squeezes it at noon
The little dog barks and leaps away
and isn’t seen again till the moon.

Hickory Dickory Dock
Jack’s startled by the clock…
He jumps awake
his nap forsakes
Hickory Dickory (#$@%!) clock!

Terri Terri Quite Contrary,
How does your Jacky grow?
Entirely too fast.