Fully prepared.

Er. Yeah. Apparently you can’t be fully prepared for anything related to mother-hood.

The child is still sick, 7 days later. Runny nose, congestion, fever, crankiness, the works. His new nickname is crank-ball, but actually, considering he’s never really, really been sick before, he’s taking it pretty much like the 1 year old he is.

Arch contends that some germs are probably a good thing for the boy, “toughen’ him up,” he says. Meanwhile, I am contemplating this John Travolta Movie and thinking really, really unrealistic thoughts.

When I do see him, it’s like he’s stuck to me. He’ll crawl over and wrap his arms around my legs, when I put him down at night he clings to my neck like a monkey.

Last night was one of those nights where I got home at 7pm, just 30 minutes before his bedtime, and we played with his new blocks and read a little story before going to bed. He went to sleep without incident (well, for Jack anyway), and all was quiet…until 4am.

At around 4:05 I got up to see what all the racket was. As I stumbled out of bed, realizing that I had a breakfast meeting in approximately 3 hours, I started tuning into what the kid was saying.

“Mama.” Clang, Clang, Clang (the sound of a crib rattling)

silence for about 10 seconds

“Mama” – said with a little more urgency and then Clang, Clang, Clang again.

My cloudy brain was pretty sure there was no way the kid knew what he was saying. But hey, it worked, it got me up, so maybe I should go check on him.

I walked into his room and he took one look at me and said “Mama” again, giggling and sort of boucing on his toes.

So. With that experience I am calling the official first word.

Sorry Arch. You lost.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Click here to view the embedded video.

In fact, I’m teaching him how to swim in the bathtub. This is in advance of our planned trip to the East Hampton next weekend where I intend to throw him in the ocean.

According to my Mother, my Father threw me in a pool when I was three weeks old. I figure, I survived, so Jack should be just fine. Plus I’ve given Jack an additional 8 months to prepare. Mostly to compensate for the fact that I’m throwing him into the Atlantic Ocean, not a swimming pool on top of a skyscraper on Lake Shore Drive. But also ’cause I’m a big softie.

See below for photos from training camp.

Swimming!

Almost ready to get out of the tub.

“Father, please remove me from this bath tub as soon as possible.”

And fine, we didn’t make it to the park or to any sort bar. But we did go downtown to hang out with aunt Katherine. We went to Paragon, and I returned a hat. What’s that you’re saying? Yes, I bought a different hat…. and some shoes. And an iPhone.

Then we just went back to Kath’s and hung out, came home and got some Mexican and watched a baseball game.

Jack was insanely good all day and even passed out during my elongated stay in the shoe department. What a great kid.

Hey! There’s Kath in the background!

So far Jack as refused to eat anything but Cheerios and I took him into the shower for the first time ever. After I finish writing this, we’re headed downtown to run errands and get drunk at a titty bar go to the park. I’m going to take the camera along for posterity.

Oh, and to address an earlier post:

Yes, somehow taking a bath with Jack seems weird, but having him sit in his bath chair while I’m in the shower is totally cool. Weird I know. What can I tell you? Sarah knew what she was getting into when she married me.

Jack likes my cellphone.

Ahh fatherhood.

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That is still true today, although now he’s also a roller and a grabber of pretty much everything, but specifically remote controls and cell phones. Usually while someone is using them.

Anyway. About 3 weeks ago, before Jack had really gotten the hang of the whole rolling thing, we could still plunk him down in the middle of the bed and turn our backs to say, I don’t know, open a drawer, turn on the air conditioner. Now? Not so much, as evidenced by Friday night’s recent tumble off of our bed. There was about 5 seconds of silence and then a blood curdling scream… Needless to say baby proofing has been stepped up a notch around here.

Anyway, this is what a 10 month old Jack looks like. Chillin’ out on Moms side of the bed and playin’ with his snake.