Happy First Father's Day

To a wonderful father! I couldn't ask for a better man to be the daddy of our Eli. We both love you lots!

Eli: 4 months

Elijah,

Today you are four months! "But wait," you say, "where is my 3 month post?" You ask an intriguing question. The fact of the matter is, your mom is a loser. Not a crack smoking loser, but a good-intention/no follow-through loser. Thus, your 3 month post is missing. Fret not, I will include everything that has happened over the last 2 months.


With dad at first Memorial Day parade (after which I was convinced you had lost your hearing.)



So, wow...four months. You have developed this fun little personality over the last 2 months. I often wondered what would happen if the progeny of Ben and Jeanette did not have a sense of humor. Fears abated...you're hilarious. You laugh at being tickled, your daddy, your reflection, Conan O'Brien--I love it! (Note: If PCS is screening, we don't really watch Conan with our son, it was a poorly constructed joke).



There is no stopping your development. You laugh, bat at toys, roll over (front and back), stand when supported, sit in Bumbo, balance the checkbook--I mean you're a genius. You rolled over from back to front (you've been doing the tummy to back for a month or so--please, old hat) last week and I flipped out. No one was home, so my celebration was somewhat anticlimactic, and you looked at me like my head was on fire, but it was awesome. I walked over to your Grandma's office (you in tow) and declared that MENSA should be called due to your obvious status as a genius. I mean you rolled over...sit on it Trebek!



Also a fun thing you've started doing (I use the word 'fun' very loosely) is spewing buckets of drool onto anything and everything. I put a shirt on you and two hours later, you look like you got caught in a rainstorm (from the neck down). I don't know if you're teething, but you drool and stick everything you can get your hands on in your mouth. That's why I decided to vacuum the other day. I didn't think it would be cool if you found some old Doritos crumbs or a random honey nut cheerio.



I went back to work right after you turned 3 months old and I cried the entire way there. Okay maybe not the entire way; I look like I got kicked in the face when I cry, so I reeled it in 10 minutes out, so as not to frighten my students. Your aunt Carrie graciously watched you those 4 weeks I was at work. You two had great times.



This is the challenge I'm facing now. I love being with you so much and it is so hard to leave you. Right now I'm off until September, but what happens then? I've never wrestled with something so much. I love LOVE teaching, but do we NEED me to work? Word to the feminists, but this sucks.



Also on the challenging front, you hate sleeping in your crib. We're trying to transition you into your crib, but I'm pretty sure you'd rather have a lobotomy. It's a challenge, because, well your father and I need sleep so as not to fall over. We're plugging away, though. If you love sleep as much as your mom, I'm sure you'll accept the new sleeping arrangements.



You have changed our lives in so many ways. I'm pretty sure we were the most boring people on the planet before you arrived, because I'm not sure what we did with our time other than watch t.v. You definitely have a captive audience in me and your dad. I try so hard to be the best mom for you. I admittedly stumble and chastise myself for turning my eyes from you for one second to watch "I'm a celebrity, get me out of here". (I'm just kidding, I don't watch that...cough...cough). You amaze me every day. When I'm away from you, I count the seconds until I can see you again. To quote a really funny story, "my heart overfloweth with joy!" We love you so much!

Party Like it's 1999

Really?

A Day in the Life...

As I was perusing the channels the other day, I saw a commercial for an NBC special in which Brian Williams shadows the president so that we, Joe Public (not plumber), may see what life is like in the White House. It was interesting/slash I had it on in the background as I was perusing People.com. Anyway, I thought, hey NBC you just gave me an idea. There are people who I think would like an inside glimpse of my daily routine (and by people, I mean my mom and grandpa). I think I will take on the task, sans Brian Williams, of documenting my school day through photographs.

So, buckle up, this is going to be a long/excruciating ride (you have been warned).


So hard to leave this cuteness every day.


6:33 a.m.: almost ready to go; just have to get Eli's food ready for the day.


My bags are packed: purse, school bag, and breast pump--check.


Morning anthem


6:45 a.m.: Goodbye Spring Arbor


Mists of Concord. Oh mill pond, your beauty is so fleeting


"Asleep at the switch...Not by a dam site." I've never understood that sign.


This pesky little stop light is my lateness gauge. I know I'm running late when I don't make the blinking light. At 6:59 a.m., this light turns into a working stop light. If I have to stop at this intersection, I know I'm running behind.


Boo, I hate getting stuck behind slow moving vehicles.


Welcome to Hillsdale, the last stop of tornado alley.


Turning right onto 12, only 10 more minutes until arrival


"It's the people." The most ambiguous town motto.


This is Heather, she's wicked-cool, and bonus, she laughs at all my jokes.


The lovely Linda, school secretary, which means she deserves some sort of medal.


Welcome to the English room (Irish authors poster, courtesy of Mary Rick, CNP and grandmother extraordinaire)


This is the last day of school, so students are asked to put their textbooks on the 'crate table'. They put their novels from the year on this table. Recognize any favorites?


Crowded desk; grading final exams (check the Dr. Pepper, always a fan favorite)


Here are a few more room pics...




My desks aren't usually set-up in this random way, but I had to space them out for finals


This was the senior prank--putting a snapping turtle in the science room (also known as Heather's classroom)


This is how she felt about it...


Juniors getting ready for their final exam with me


Seniors lining up for graduation practice


Always enthusiastic (to my left...your right...is the lovely Jen, also known as the art teacher)


Ready to go home


Hello Jackson county, birthplace of the Republican party


I took this picture for two reasons: 1.) to showcase the typical scenery on my way to work and 2.) it reminds me of those Verizon commercials


I'm home. :)

Sarcasm is the Refuge of Losers

There are very few things in life that I do well. I've accepted the fact that I will never play volleyball well (or enjoy it); I'm not sure I'll ever pronounce the words "macabre" or "automaton" correctly. I may never understand the popularity of Euchre (somewhere the entire state of Michigan gasps). And the verdict is still out on cooking.

One of my strengths (if you can call it that), however, is one that I've come to cherish. This little strength has got me through many an awkward moment and allowed me to develop great friendships. I'm not sure at what age I realized I had this strength, but it's always been a loyal favorite. To what am I referring? The gift of sarcasm. That's right, internet. It's why I chose to teach high school instead of elementary (that and I don't like tattle-tales). It's why my mom and I have so much fun going to the mall or why my sister and I like going to Jackson's Wal-Mart.

Over the last week, I've developed a list of my favorite things: the sarcastic edition. What's that, Internet? Are you asking why I don't have anything better to do with my time? I mean why don't I just fill out the plethora of quizzes on Facebook? Well, Internet, I developed this list on my way to and from work to avoid falling asleep at the wheel and careening into a tree or cow.

So without further ado...here it is--my list of my favorite things: the sarcastic edition.

1. Going outside and having gale force winds attack my hair.
2. Driving through constant gale force winds with an aero-dynamic box
3. Michigan's constant windy days
4. Getting up at 5:00 a.m. for work--love it.
5. Driving 35 minutes to work--it's the best.
6. Driving behind tractors
7. My relationship with gravity (just call me "The Dropper")
8. Late-night television (what am I supposed to watch whilst feeding my son?)
9. Hard water stains
10. Leaving my son for work
11. Wal-Mart
12. People who drive those scooters at Wal-Mart
13. Those Time Life commercials
14. Folding laundry
15. The $5 footlong Subway commercials
16. NASCAR
17. Balancing the checkbook
18. The misuse of "good" and "well"
19. Dangling prepositions
20. People who start papers with "My paper is about" or "In this paper I am going to write about"
21. Shaving my legs
22. Rose City Motors commercials
23. People at Wal-Mart who yell at their children for NO REASON!
24. Poor dental hygiene
25. Apathy
26. Smoking (why don't you just stick your mouth on the tail pipe of your car...mmmmm)
27. Scary movies
28. When people say "acrosst" or "flustrated" or "I seen it" or "elemen-TARY"
29. People who whisper (loudly) "witty" commentary at the movies
30. Back sweat

Dear Postpartum Body

Dear Postpartum Body,

We are not friends. I was prepared for changes. I mean you can't carry around a 7 lb baby and not expect changes, but come on. Let's talk about the massive amounts of hair that fall out with each shower. What's that about? And the gas? Um, it was "cute" when I could blame it on the pregnancy, but now it's just disgusting. I'm pretty sure Ben has a call into his lawyer. You even attacked my fingers. I didn't think fingers could gain weight.

I remember the days of normal looking hips and a tummy that didn't jiggle when I walked. Gone are the days when I could eat pizza for every meal and be okay. Gone are the days when Jujyfruits sufficed as a meal. I didn't really get a chance to say goodbye. I think that's what makes it the hardest.

Well, I hope you're enjoying yourself, fatty. I hope you're having a great time because the laughs are about to end. I plan to resurrect pre-baby body. That's right. If I have to limit my pizza intake to once a week, I'm willing to make that sacrifice. If I have to nix Oreos, I will do it. You will not beat me.

Seriously,
Jeanette

First Mother's Day

"Whatever else is unsure in this stinking dunghill of a world a mother's love is not."
- James Joyce

(Better words I could not have said myself, Mr. Joyce)