Brady's new obsession is the telephone. He currently plays with two old cellphones and my old office phone. What he doesn't know is that the office phone has to be returned to K12. That will not be a good day.
Anyway, since he's so fond of talking, I've tried to film him in action. Every time he sees me, though, he stops what he's doing like he's embarrassed. I've even tried to hide and watch him, but he's too dang nosy. So, I've provided a script of his latest call:
Brady: "Heh-yoooo? Pap Tom?" He pauses, waits for Pap Tom to respond. "Hi, Pap! What are you doin'? Are you makin' dinner?" Pauses, awaits answer. "YOU ARE?! OH MY! Dat's very nice. Okay, byebye."
In keeping with Brady's love of the phone, Zach introduced the idea of playing the game telephone with him. Zach whispers something in Brady's ear or tells him to give me a message, and by the time the kid gets to me, the message is all kinds of messed up. It's a great way to pass some time on the weekends:
Zach: Tell mom you're cold and you want to be wrapped up like a pig in a blanket.
Brady to me: I'm in a pig.
Zach: You want to be wrapped up like a pig in a blanket.
Brady: I'm a blanket pig.
It's either sheer exhaustion that makes this so hilarious, or maybe it really is just that funny. I can't tell. I've been working nonstop today (on my Sunday--boo!) to set up 4 new courses. I'm so sick of this computer I'm not even adding pictures to this post because I just want to sign off and call it a day. But before I do, please allow one more Brady conversation:
Who: Brady and some lady
When: Saturday afternoon
Where: The hair salon
Why: The boy had a mullet
How: He threw the mother load of tantrums when he saw Dawn, the woman that cuts his hair, so we tried to persuade him with grapes and books and jokes, but nothing worked. Only one side of his hair was cut before we had to take a time out to, as Brady says, "catch mine breath." During the time out...
What: a lovely woman with several piercings and tattoos came over to help Brady calm down. Instead, he yelled at the top of his lungs and through his pathetic sobs, 'WHAT DA HECK IS DAT IN YOUR NOSE?! I DON'T YIKE IT. GO AWAY!"
And there you have it.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Monday, January 23, 2012
Only in Western Pennsylvania...
...can you have this weather on Saturday,
and this weather on Monday:
This is not normal. Mostly, this is not helpful. If we're going to get snow dumped on us, it should at least be worth our while. Like, a day off of school or the kind of snow we can make snowmen with. Just one girl's opinion.
This past weekend marked the first in I-don't-know-how-long that the Jankowski 4 were able to spend quality time together. Nowhere to be, nothing on the calendar--it was heaven! I think I mostly enjoyed it because Zach was around to help with the kids and house. I don't know how single moms do it, but I bow down to them.
While we're on the subject of bowing down, a legend in many eyes died this past Sunday: Joe Paterno passed away from what the doctors deemed complications from lung cancer, but if you talk to most Penn State cult members--I mean, enthusiasts--they'll tell you the guy died of a broken heart because of the scandal with that pedophile whose name does not deserve mention on this blog. Zach is such an enthusiast and has had a really hard time coming to grips with the events that unfolded in these past few months, but the bottom line is a man, and a local one at that, who represented the kind of coach and educator Zach wanted to emulate has died. And that is sad, no matter which way you spin it.
Know what else is sad? I'm actually skipping a shower tonight so I can read my new issue of Parenting magazine. Maybe I'll grab a one tomorrow morning. Maybe. Man, I love this working from home thing.
Have a good one,
Dirtball Jankowski
and this weather on Monday:
This past weekend marked the first in I-don't-know-how-long that the Jankowski 4 were able to spend quality time together. Nowhere to be, nothing on the calendar--it was heaven! I think I mostly enjoyed it because Zach was around to help with the kids and house. I don't know how single moms do it, but I bow down to them.
While we're on the subject of bowing down, a legend in many eyes died this past Sunday: Joe Paterno passed away from what the doctors deemed complications from lung cancer, but if you talk to most Penn State cult members--I mean, enthusiasts--they'll tell you the guy died of a broken heart because of the scandal with that pedophile whose name does not deserve mention on this blog. Zach is such an enthusiast and has had a really hard time coming to grips with the events that unfolded in these past few months, but the bottom line is a man, and a local one at that, who represented the kind of coach and educator Zach wanted to emulate has died. And that is sad, no matter which way you spin it.
Know what else is sad? I'm actually skipping a shower tonight so I can read my new issue of Parenting magazine. Maybe I'll grab a one tomorrow morning. Maybe. Man, I love this working from home thing.
Have a good one,
Dirtball Jankowski
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Dear Future Me...
I read an awesome article today about a young mother of four who is constantly told to cherish "these days" with her babies because they will be gross teenagers before she knows it. Okay, that may be a loose paraphrase. Anyway, it inspired me to write to my future self in an effort to remind me of these golden days. I figure it's also a great way to jog my memory of important things, like Brady's emphatic distaste for potty training, and with the "Future Me" titles, I'll be able to easily find these relics in my archives. So, without further ado, the first of what will be many installments of "Dear Future Me:"
Hey there, Future Me,
Regardless of when you read this, you'll be wishing for the 2012 you. You'll have had less wrinkles, less gray hair, and probably a thinner waistline than you do right about now, but that's neither here nor there. The point of this post is to remind you of a few things that have happened recently:
1. Zach had another successful Coaches Clinic and you're super proud of him. You're also super excited that despite the Radisson's name change, they still make their ridiculously delicious carrot cake and because the in-laws watched Ella and the Barones watched Brady, you were able to partake in the cake and adult beverages and have a romantic sleepover with your husband.
2. Speaking of Ella's sleepover: she was surprisingly wonderful. PapRick is always calling her a sweetheart and you're always shaking your head, but you're beginning to realize it's true. You think the girl is a sweet, sweet baby. The fact that you're even coming to this realization makes you ashamed because you swore up and down that you wouldn't let Ella get that "girls are a bitch" rep like every.single.woman in the family. From this day forward, Ella is an angel. Who just learned to clap and it's so freaking adorable you want to eat her up.
3. Brady hates, Hates, HATES potty training. Nothing you've tried entices him to drop drawer and have at the frog toilet that, originally assumed, would excite him like a ride at Kennywood. Negative. At this point, you are perfectly willing to let him wear diapers until he's 7.
4. Even though he is still forcing you to clean up man-poop from his butt crack, you love Brady to the moon and back. Tonight, he brought over a blank piece of paper, pretended it was a letter and read it to you: "Dis says, 'I yuve Mom and Dad and I will give you yots of hugs and kisses.'" You teared up and hugged him so hard he asked you to stop. It was awesome. He's been playing make-believe more and more and just the other day, he introduced you to his friend Mississippi (no idea...) who lives in his bed and talks to him when he wakes up. No wonder you've been hearing, "Good morning! How are you?" over the monitor...
5. Your good friend and colleague just told you that she's pregnant with her third, a family friend brought her 2-month-old over today, and Beyonce and Jay-Z had what is destined to be the most sought-after baby EVER. The latter doesn't really matter; all it means is there is baby news everywhere. As a result, you have baby fever. You've been telling yourself that you want to wait until Ella is at least 2-years-old because of how difficult it was the first few months with 2 little, little ones. However, right around 7 months, it just got...easier. You love having two and you want one or two more and your husband will oblige because if he doesn't, you will start bringing stray dogs home. You want the house to be filled to maximum capacity, have the complete chaos of little ones underfoot, and eventually, have those little ones care for you and Zach when you're old and decrepit. That's only fair, right?
And, as if he knew what you were writing, Brady is upstairs loudly boycotting sleep. You've gone up 3 times to turn his music back on (damn Scout dog, can't you play for more than 10 minutes at a time?!), threatened him with the normal "you won't be big and strong if you don't sleep" routine, and are about to indulge him in the "one book, pee-eeeeeze" he's been whining for. You have bags under your eyes and your patience is thin. But the weird old ladies from the article are right: you should appreciate these days. In just a few years, there will come a time when your children will not want to be seen with you in public. And they'll be demanding privacy instead of inviting you in to read Green Eggs and Ham for the 234th time this week.
Hey there, Future Me,
Regardless of when you read this, you'll be wishing for the 2012 you. You'll have had less wrinkles, less gray hair, and probably a thinner waistline than you do right about now, but that's neither here nor there. The point of this post is to remind you of a few things that have happened recently:
1. Zach had another successful Coaches Clinic and you're super proud of him. You're also super excited that despite the Radisson's name change, they still make their ridiculously delicious carrot cake and because the in-laws watched Ella and the Barones watched Brady, you were able to partake in the cake and adult beverages and have a romantic sleepover with your husband.
 |
| Tired from all of his hard work. Can't rotate it and I'm too tired to care. |
2. Speaking of Ella's sleepover: she was surprisingly wonderful. PapRick is always calling her a sweetheart and you're always shaking your head, but you're beginning to realize it's true. You think the girl is a sweet, sweet baby. The fact that you're even coming to this realization makes you ashamed because you swore up and down that you wouldn't let Ella get that "girls are a bitch" rep like every.single.woman in the family. From this day forward, Ella is an angel. Who just learned to clap and it's so freaking adorable you want to eat her up.
3. Brady hates, Hates, HATES potty training. Nothing you've tried entices him to drop drawer and have at the frog toilet that, originally assumed, would excite him like a ride at Kennywood. Negative. At this point, you are perfectly willing to let him wear diapers until he's 7.
4. Even though he is still forcing you to clean up man-poop from his butt crack, you love Brady to the moon and back. Tonight, he brought over a blank piece of paper, pretended it was a letter and read it to you: "Dis says, 'I yuve Mom and Dad and I will give you yots of hugs and kisses.'" You teared up and hugged him so hard he asked you to stop. It was awesome. He's been playing make-believe more and more and just the other day, he introduced you to his friend Mississippi (no idea...) who lives in his bed and talks to him when he wakes up. No wonder you've been hearing, "Good morning! How are you?" over the monitor...
 |
| Singing to Ella. And again, I can't seem to rotate it... |
5. Your good friend and colleague just told you that she's pregnant with her third, a family friend brought her 2-month-old over today, and Beyonce and Jay-Z had what is destined to be the most sought-after baby EVER. The latter doesn't really matter; all it means is there is baby news everywhere. As a result, you have baby fever. You've been telling yourself that you want to wait until Ella is at least 2-years-old because of how difficult it was the first few months with 2 little, little ones. However, right around 7 months, it just got...easier. You love having two and you want one or two more and your husband will oblige because if he doesn't, you will start bringing stray dogs home. You want the house to be filled to maximum capacity, have the complete chaos of little ones underfoot, and eventually, have those little ones care for you and Zach when you're old and decrepit. That's only fair, right?
And, as if he knew what you were writing, Brady is upstairs loudly boycotting sleep. You've gone up 3 times to turn his music back on (damn Scout dog, can't you play for more than 10 minutes at a time?!), threatened him with the normal "you won't be big and strong if you don't sleep" routine, and are about to indulge him in the "one book, pee-eeeeeze" he's been whining for. You have bags under your eyes and your patience is thin. But the weird old ladies from the article are right: you should appreciate these days. In just a few years, there will come a time when your children will not want to be seen with you in public. And they'll be demanding privacy instead of inviting you in to read Green Eggs and Ham for the 234th time this week.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Happy 8-monthiversary, Princess Ella!
As it turns out, Ella is a happy baby. It took a few months for her to realize it, but she enjoys laughing more than crying. This, in turn, has made life a lot more pleasant for everyone.
She doesn't have another well-baby visit until next month, but her sleeping, eating, and general disposition have all improved over the past 4 weeks. I've been afraid to post it for fear that she'll get wind of my bragging and prove me wrong, but she's been sleeping through the night and after a morning nursing session, lying back down for at least an hour. On average, she snoozes from 8pm - 5am, and goes back down until around 7. This is helpful as I can get things done...or go back to sleep. I often choose the latter.
She's also eating everything she can get her little hands on. This includes, but is not limited to, the dogs' ears, toys, books, actual food, and other people. She chews on my chin when sleepy, but if I'm not available, she'll settle for her fist or a soft blanket. Brady never, ever put a thing into his mouth; when Ella is mobile, we are in TROUBLE.
She's surpassed the baby food and is on her way to big people meals. We've given her pasta, veggies, meats, and a few cheeses thus far and piggy likes! I haven't really found anything she doesn't like...except anything in a bottle or cup. I'm afraid she'll still want to nurse when she's 10. I'm also afraid that she isn't getting enough liquids, but the pediatrician assures me she's healthy. I know she's getting nourishment, but I also know her pooh is a little harder than it should be so I've been trying to entice her with juice. We never gave Brady juice because there's basically no reason to offer sugar in a cup, but this girl plays by her own rules.
Ella loves the sound of her own voice and her favorite word is clearly Mama. I'm beginning to think she knows what it means, as she says it when she sees me and when she wants me. Dada is thrown around every once in a while, too, but just like Brady, "Mama" was her official first word.
The fact that this child has been in our lives for 8 months makes me marvel at how quickly time passes. I remember the second I realized I was pregnant with her, and the instant I knew I was in labor with her. It makes me sad. And then it makes me want another baby. And then I remind myself that I'm still tired and overwhelmed on a daily basis and that makes me want to wait at least two years before we try for #3 ;-)
 |
| This bib was made with her in mind. |
She doesn't have another well-baby visit until next month, but her sleeping, eating, and general disposition have all improved over the past 4 weeks. I've been afraid to post it for fear that she'll get wind of my bragging and prove me wrong, but she's been sleeping through the night and after a morning nursing session, lying back down for at least an hour. On average, she snoozes from 8pm - 5am, and goes back down until around 7. This is helpful as I can get things done...or go back to sleep. I often choose the latter.
 |
| I hate cheerleaders, but seriously: how cute is this?! |
 |
| Love those boots! |
She's surpassed the baby food and is on her way to big people meals. We've given her pasta, veggies, meats, and a few cheeses thus far and piggy likes! I haven't really found anything she doesn't like...except anything in a bottle or cup. I'm afraid she'll still want to nurse when she's 10. I'm also afraid that she isn't getting enough liquids, but the pediatrician assures me she's healthy. I know she's getting nourishment, but I also know her pooh is a little harder than it should be so I've been trying to entice her with juice. We never gave Brady juice because there's basically no reason to offer sugar in a cup, but this girl plays by her own rules.
 |
| "I'll handle this cup, thankyouverymuch." |
Ella loves the sound of her own voice and her favorite word is clearly Mama. I'm beginning to think she knows what it means, as she says it when she sees me and when she wants me. Dada is thrown around every once in a while, too, but just like Brady, "Mama" was her official first word.
 |
| Repeating "Mama" during our photo shoot! |
 |
| This is their "we're thrilled for yet another picture" face |
Friday, January 6, 2012
I Know Ella is Mine Because...
1. She's already successfully fed herself. With a spoon. She has that "I'll do it myself" mentality and she's not even 8-months-old. May God help us.
2. She talks. A lot.
3. She makes you work hard for her affection. You've gotta amp up the comedy to get a smile from her and if she's not amused, she won't fake it.
4. She prefers our dogs over most everyone else she's met.
5. She has zero patience. Zero.
6. If we don't get her eyebrows waxed, like, tomorrow, she'll have the same caterpillar creeping across her forehead by the time she's 3.
7. She, too, thinks Brady is hilarious and pretty near perfect.
8. She makes a big deal about the little things (i.e. me walking out of the room), and barely flinches at what should be a big deal (i.e. getting teeth).
9. I have pictures proving that I birthed her. I looked at said pictures just the other day and couldn't believe I allowed someone to photograph my hoo-ha all up close and personal like that. Maybe one day the little princess will appreciate the fact that she can actually witness her grand entrance. But because she is my daughter, she'll probably just look at me and say something like, "You are so gross."
And lastly,
10. She already has her daddy wrapped around her finger. Well done, Ella, well done.
2. She talks. A lot.
3. She makes you work hard for her affection. You've gotta amp up the comedy to get a smile from her and if she's not amused, she won't fake it.
4. She prefers our dogs over most everyone else she's met.
5. She has zero patience. Zero.
6. If we don't get her eyebrows waxed, like, tomorrow, she'll have the same caterpillar creeping across her forehead by the time she's 3.
7. She, too, thinks Brady is hilarious and pretty near perfect.
8. She makes a big deal about the little things (i.e. me walking out of the room), and barely flinches at what should be a big deal (i.e. getting teeth).
9. I have pictures proving that I birthed her. I looked at said pictures just the other day and couldn't believe I allowed someone to photograph my hoo-ha all up close and personal like that. Maybe one day the little princess will appreciate the fact that she can actually witness her grand entrance. But because she is my daughter, she'll probably just look at me and say something like, "You are so gross."
And lastly,
10. She already has her daddy wrapped around her finger. Well done, Ella, well done.
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