October 28th, 2007 sally
A mini-cold front hit Austin last week. This meant we were able to get Tom dressed up in some warm clothes that we thought he would grow out of before having a chance to wear. He’s massive. Here he is ready for school:
Last Wednesday, Trish and Sandy hosted a neighborhood pumpkin party. The local firemen showed up to entertain the kids. Tom didn’t seem too bothered, but Michael, a friend from work, was pushing youngsters out of the way so that he could get inside the truck:
Tonight, Trish and Sandy came over and I carved my first pumpkin. We had visions of taking photos of Tom surrounded by all of our carving efforts, but he got bored and went to bed before we’d carved a single one. No worries. We had a couple of glasses of limoncello and set to work. Tomorrow, we’ll have a photo shoot, but for now, here’s my first attempt at pumpkin-carving:
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October 13th, 2007 sally
Trish took this photo of Tom–I think it is my new favourite.
This week was my first official week back at work. I had to attend a meeting in San Antonio. There was so much to catch up on and issues to gossip about and problems to solve that I was kept really busy-this helped with being away from Tom for the first time.
As soon as I got back to Austin, I picked him up from daycare and double-checked the squiggle I’d made on the small of his back with a magic marker–I’ve seen too many situation comedies where the goldfish (or the budgie, or the hamster) meets a tragic demise when the owner is out of town. To the amusement of the audience, the designated guardian frantically rushes around to find an exact copy before the owner’s return. Not that I don’t trust Chris or Uncle Larry or the Ginger Queen, but you can’t be too careful about these things.
We spent the afternoon hanging with Trish and Sandy on their back lawn before heading over to David and the Ginger Queen’s for a cook-out. As grandparents may be reading this entry, I won’t linger over the fact that Ollie, the French Bulldog, was desperate to get his jaws around Tom’s ears. Although I guess a one-eared baby would mean that I wouldn’t have to bother with the magic marker squiggle when I go to Corpus Christi next week. Surely there aren’t that many one-eared replacement babies available in Austin? Don’t worry grandparents! Ollie’s a fickle doggie and he soon got tired of sniffing around Tom and decided to get fresh with Chris Lepard’s hairy arm instead.
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October 13th, 2007 sally
For the past couple of weeks or so, we (me, Chris, and Uncle Ginger Queen) have been musing over how Clem would handle hanging out with a baby. As a former babyphobe, I empathized with his dilemma over not wanting to be rude but not really feeling the need to interact with a mini-human. We wondered if he’d ever held a baby before and how long it would take for him to hold Tom. After a few tequilaritas, he took the plunge:
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October 13th, 2007 sally
Tom getting into the cowboy spirit (Chris’ great-granddad is technically a cotton farmer, but he’s the nearest thing to a real Texan cowboy that I’ve ever met)
Tom and his Great-Granddad ponder the weather and annual amount of rainfall in Knott, Texas
Eric works with Tom on the angelic look he’ll need for church
Grandma (?-I’m going with ‘Grandma’ as preferred grandmotherly terms have not officially been selected yet) getting in a bit of a cuddle
For those of you who are fed up with baby pictures and would much prefer to see a doggie.
This weekend, we took Tom to see his grandparents, uncle, and great-granddad in Big Spring. It’s a five hour drive, but Tom was a trooper and only whimpered a bit as we drove into town.
We had a very relaxing weekend and got to see most of the family in Knott, Texas.
Tom went to church for the first time and only got a bit agitated when we sung the hymns. I don’t blame him. What is it about singing in church that makes you attempt a pitch twice as high as you do when you’re rocking along to tunes on the radio? Plus, with a small-town church congregation of about 15 (most of them related), it’s not as if you can just mouth the words…every voice counts.
Tom also giggled for the first time—so now I’ve become one of those parents who tries to repeat exactly how Uncle Shawn was interacting with Tom to try and get it to happen again. No luck so far.
Great-Granddad Shaw spent most of his time sitting right next to Tom having lengthy conversations. I overheard a couple of snippets that included: “I reckon you’re not bad as a great-grandson”, “I’m not going to take a bite out of you” and “I’m thinking my cotton is taller than you”.
Tom was really well-behaved and people were asking whether he was a robot as he didn’t cry or fuss much. At first, I was all proud. But then that paranoia that seems to multiply the instant you become a parent set in. Later in the evening, I turned to Chris and asked him if he thought there was something wrong with Tom as he sleeps soundly and is easily soothed when he cries. Chris gave me a look as if it to say “Are you out of your bloody mind? Enjoy it while it lasts”. So I will.
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October 1st, 2007 sally
or at least a pride of lesbians
but too many women can often lead a man to tears (and booze)
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October 1st, 2007 sally
I made it until 1:30 and then I drove the getaway car to the local Methodist Church and busted Tommy out of daycare.
I sort of wish I hadn’t bothered! When I get there he is as happy as Larry sitting in a swing being swooned over by a couple of chicks (in fact, they were literally drooling over him—nice). All four of the ladies in the room went on and on about what a good baby he was and how Tom was the perfect name for him. He’d played, slept, and ate without any bother and was a “great-natured little boy”.
Then I pick him up. And he starts to wail—a wail I’ve never heard before. A wail that pretty much says “put me bloody down, I like it here”. In some ways, that makes dropping him off tomorrow so much easier. I’ll just have to drown my sorrows in a box of wine from Target until I get over the fact that he’d rather hang with the Methodists than me.
30 minutes later: he’s a fickle little bugger. Now he won’t stop laughing. Unfortunately, he shakes his head when he laughs so this is the best I can do photowise:
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October 1st, 2007 sally
Last night, Tom slept for 8 hours. A feat that should have resulted in me having my first complete nights sleep in almost a year. Being pregnant meant at least 2 trips to the loo each evening, and since Tom has been here, either Chris or I have got up at least once in the night—and even if it’s not our turn, we still tend to wake up and have a bit of a chat. But, no, last night my body decided that it had no desire for sleep. Perhaps it was that cup of tea that I drank too late in the evening. Perhaps it was me slipping back into work mode and beginning to strategize for my return. Or, perhaps, it was the fact that today was Tom’s first day at daycare. I’m guessing it’s the latter. I felt almost as nervous as when I started Codsall High School…but not as nervous as when I got dropped off at Stratford High School in Houston and realized that students drove their cars to school. And lots of them drove porsches.
So, this morning, Chris and I get Tom ready, snap a few piccies and drive to his daycare (just down the street). We turn in the paperwork, meet his teacher, Laurie, and drop off his supplies. I’m doing really well until, on the drive back home, for every positive point I stress, Chris has a retort.
Me: I liked how she picked him up when he started to moan a bit
Chris: That’s only because we were there
Me: He seemed to like that swing
Chris: How many kids do you think use that thing?
Me: I think he’ll be fine
Chris (pretending to be Tom): I know you don’t have to work until next week. I know you’re just abandoning me here so you can go home and have fun. You’re a big meanie.
Guilt strikes and I become a stereotypical mum who goes out and buys 50 lottery tickets in the hope that luck will strike and she can stay home. Thanks a bunch, Chris.
I’ll admit I did have fun trying out the new gym and taking the doggies for a walk without having to juggle a baby and both of them. And now I’m off to have lunch with Ervin, and then a trip to the library, and to Target, and the post office. Then, I’ll let my guilt takeover and go rescue poor Tom!
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