Search Results : label/jacob

Does This Post Make My Butt Look Big?

 Uncategorized  18 Responses »
Jun 132009
 

Picture the scenario…

We’re getting ready for the last-day-of-preschool picnic, where all three of our kids will be presented with their “me” books — Jacob, off to kindergarten, Brady, graduating to the Pre-K room and Lucy, a graduate of the parent/tot class and soon to start summer camp as an official preschooler.

To mark the occasion, I wanted to wear a little something special. Nothing too crazy but perhaps a new summer dress to celebrate my kids accomplishments and the smokin’ hot season’s arrival. Because I don’t shop the way I used to — how I miss dropping ridiculous money at my favorite boutiques — I grabbed my 30% off coupon and headed down to the local department store (I won’t mention which but it rhymes with Schmohl’s). I got myself one of those little numbers that you imagine on some young, adorable little thing and think ‘if it looks half as good, I’ll be ok.’

I bring home my purchase and try it on for Jeff. If only I could find the words to clearly communicate the expression on his face when I modeled my purchase, giving it a little twirl. It was like he was at dinner at a girlfriend’s parents for the first time and just bit into a chunk of tomato. Not as bad as if it had been an onion but certainly not his favorite. But the nice guy my husband is, he’s one to just grin and bear it.

I recognized the conflicted expression on his scruffy face but since we needed to pick up, I mean MAKE, our homemade picnic dinner for the event, I ignored his reaction and we went happily on our way.

Later that evening, with Jeff off to work and after finally getting the kids down to bed, I uploaded the pictures from the picnic. Along with the adorable shots of my kids with their teachers and receiving their commemorative books, was THIS…

HOLY RUMP, BATMAN!

First of all, I am sincerely hoping images in photo are smaller than they appear (Jeff says “it’s a bad angle”). I know it’s been a while since a good workout and I’ve been living for two weeks without a scale but WHOAH. Note to self: lay off the wine and chocolate.

If you were a betting person (aren’t we all?), I would put money on my making the trek down to Schmohl’s to return a certain item this morning. And honey, next time I ask… give it to me straight. With these nice readers as my witness, I beg you to never let me leave the house looking like a house — ever again.

Does This Post Make My Butt Look Big?

 Random  1 Response »
Jun 132009
 

Picture the scenario…

We’re getting ready for the last-day-of-preschool picnic, where all three of our kids will be presented with their “me” books — Jacob, off to kindergarten, Brady, graduating to the Pre-K room and Lucy, a graduate of the parent/tot class and soon to start summer camp as an official preschooler.

To mark the occasion, I wanted to wear a little something special. Nothing too crazy but perhaps a new summer dress to celebrate my kids accomplishments and the smokin’ hot season’s arrival. Because I don’t shop the way I used to — how I miss dropping ridiculous money at my favorite boutiques — I grabbed my 30% off coupon and headed down to the local department store (I won’t mention which but it rhymes with Schmohl’s). I got myself one of those little numbers that you imagine on some young, adorable little thing and think ‘if it looks half as good, I’ll be ok.’

I bring home my purchase and try it on for Jeff. If only I could find the words to clearly communicate the expression on his face when I modeled my purchase, giving it a little twirl. It was like he was at dinner at a girlfriend’s parents for the first time and just bit into a chunk of tomato. Not as bad as if it had been an onion but certainly not his favorite. But the nice guy my husband is, he’s one to just grin and bear it.

I recognized the conflicted expression on his scruffy face but since we needed to pick up, I mean MAKE, our homemade picnic dinner for the event, I ignored his reaction and we went happily on our way.

Later that evening, with Jeff off to work and after finally getting the kids down to bed, I uploaded the pictures from the picnic. Along with the adorable shots of my kids with their teachers and receiving their commemorative books, was THIS…

HOLY RUMP, BATMAN!

First of all, I am sincerely hoping images in photo are smaller than they appear (Jeff says “it’s a bad angle”). I know it’s been a while since a good workout and I’ve been living for two weeks without a scale but WHOAH. Note to self: lay off the wine and chocolate.

If you were a betting person (aren’t we all?), I would put money on my making the trek down to Schmohl’s to return a certain item this morning. And honey, next time I ask… give it to me straight. With these nice readers as my witness, I beg you to never let me leave the house looking like a house — ever again.

googleusercontent.com/tracker/1591350507271655442-4923487803664312215?l=www.thesilverwhining.com' alt='' />

Warning: Bragging Mom in 3, 2, 1…

 Uncategorized  2 Responses »
May 212009
 

My son, Jacob, is remarkable.

There, I said it. Now don’t go rolling your eyes and closing the browser because I’ve become one of those moms. Today, he deserves a bit of fanfare — it’s his 5th birthday.

When Jacob was born on May 20, 2004, Jeff and I had no idea what we were in for. I read every book about parenting, feeding, sleeping and discipline… joined Gymboree and Mom’s Club and took every bit of advice I could fit into my rapidly declining memory. What’s the deal with this mom brain anyway? What was I saying? Oh right, we coddled him like he was fragile glass and bundled him up until he looked like the Michelin man. Let’s just say we would never be accused of under-parenting.

While I’ve never been one to discuss openly, Jake was my first experience with true heartbreak. When he would feel scared or overwhelmed, instead of throwing himself on the floor in anger, he would close his eyes — shutting out the rest of the world. He was never one to make demands, used manners as well as a little one can, and was never interested in being involved with dramatic antics. Unlike two other munchkins I know who enjoy a good tantrum.

At 12 mos, along with his inability to express himself age-appropriately, we noticed a delay in verbal skills. When things didn’t drastically improve, at 18 mos. it was time to investigate. Four hours of early intervention each week — speech, transitioning, and mommy and me class — went on for a year and a half. Preschool, at the recommendation of the specialists, began at 2 years 4 mos. I can’t even begin to tell you the strides Jacob made in the span of a year and a half. His ability to buckle down and take on the task at hand is truly inspiring to me. Our son has never once backed down from the challenge set before him… the more he needed to achieve, the harder he worked.

At 3 years old, Jacob graduated to the school district’s early intervention program. We have sat with him through assessments and observations, talking about goals and plans. We’ve seen massive improvement throughout that time, with once a week social classes. Today, while he still gets a little assistance, sometimes it feels like he’s not even the same child who walked away from me on the schoolyard holding the teacher’s hand for the first time.

Why am I telling you this now?

First of all, because I talk about Jacob regularly here — how unbelievably smart he is (he’s reading at a second grade level), how creativity seems to come from a place most of us aspire to have, and how sweet he can be with his younger siblings. But there’s so much more to him. My son is stronger than many adults I know, facing the fear and discomfort that sometimes join him on the playground or among peers every single day. He’s a true hero in my eyes and I can’t wait to see what life with him will bring in the coming years.

But I’m also sharing this because recently I’ve talked to some parents who may or may not have some of the same concerns. And I feel like our experience with early intervention over the past four years has made us experts in some ways. I want to use this space to encourage anyone who may have questions about their child to seek professional guidance. Even if you think they might grow out of it, I strongly suggest you consult with your pediatrician. Your doctor can help you find a local regional center, where you can get services that won’t cost you anything.

Early intervention has meant all the difference to our family. It opened our eyes to some challenges — big and small — that also helped us determine whether we had the strength to move forward with adoption. It has helped my son become the brilliant, funny, sensitive boy he is and I will forever stand on my soap box when I think it could potentially help another family.

Today, all of what we have gone through together make this birthday that much more special. Speaking of special, Jacob was asked to create a poster board of his life to share with the class during his special birthday week. Sunday night, after a weekend at Legoland, we sat at the kitchen table with him until after 11:00 PM working on the project until it was perfect. He took such pride in himself and his life, we couldn’t help but be touched. Where has my little baby boy gone? Today, a five year old boy, he looked up at me with a big grin from ear-to-ear, and made my heart melt — just like he did the moment I first saw him five years ago today.

Happy Birthday Jacob Mac. I love you more than anything.

See also: Our Family Expands: Two More Kids
Our Budding Artist
Budding Artist, Part Deux
More Jacob stories

Warning: Bragging Mom in 3, 2, 1…

 Special Needs  No Responses »
May 212009
 

My son, Jacob, is remarkable.

There, I said it. Now don’t go rolling your eyes and closing the browser because I’ve become one of those moms. Today, he deserves a bit of fanfare — it’s his 5th birthday.

When Jacob was born on May 20, 2004, Jeff and I had no idea what we were in for. I read every book about parenting, feeding, sleeping and discipline… joined Gymboree and Mom’s Club and took every bit of advice I could fit into my rapidly declining memory. What’s the deal with this mom brain anyway? What was I saying? Oh right, we coddled him like he was fragile glass and bundled him up until he looked like the Michelin man. Let’s just say we would never be accused of under-parenting.

While I’ve never been one to discuss openly, Jake was my first experience with true heartbreak. When he would feel scared or overwhelmed, instead of throwing himself on the floor in anger, he would close his eyes — shutting out the rest of the world. He was never one to make demands, used manners as well as a little one can, and was never interested in being involved with dramatic antics. Unlike two other munchkins I know who enjoy a good tantrum.

At 12 mos, along with his inability to express himself age-appropriately, we noticed a delay in verbal skills. When things didn’t drastically improve, at 18 mos. it was time to investigate. Four hours of early intervention each week — speech, transitioning, and mommy and me class — went on for a year and a half. Preschool, at the recommendation of the specialists, began at 2 years 4 mos. I can’t even begin to tell you the strides Jacob made in the span of a year and a half. His ability to buckle down and take on the task at hand is truly inspiring to me. Our son has never once backed down from the challenge set before him… the more he needed to achieve, the harder he worked.

At 3 years old, Jacob graduated to the school district’s early intervention program. We have sat with him through assessments and observations, talking about goals and plans. We’ve seen massive improvement throughout that time, with once a week social classes. Today, while he still gets a little assistance, sometimes it feels like he’s not even the same child who walked away from me on the schoolyard holding the teacher’s hand for the first time.

Why am I telling you this now?

First of all, because I talk about Jacob regularly here — how unbelievably smart he is (he’s reading at a second grade level), how creativity seems to come from a place most of us aspire to have, and how sweet he can be with his younger siblings. But there’s so much more to him. My son is stronger than many adults I know, facing the fear and discomfort that sometimes join him on the playground or among peers every single day. He’s a true hero in my eyes and I can’t wait to see what life with him will bring in the coming years.

But I’m also sharing this because recently I’ve talked to some parents who may or may not have some of the same concerns. And I feel like our experience with early intervention over the past four years has made us experts in some ways. I want to use this space to encourage anyone who may have questions about their child to seek professional guidance. Even if you think they might grow out of it, I strongly suggest you consult with your pediatrician. Your doctor can help you find a local regional center, where you can get services that won’t cost you anything.

Early intervention has meant all the difference to our family. It opened our eyes to some challenges — big and small — that also helped us determine whether we had the strength to move forward with adoption. It has helped my son become the brilliant, funny, sensitive boy he is and I will forever stand on my soap box when I think it could potentially help another family.

Today, all of what we have gone through together make this birthday that much more special. Speaking of special, Jacob was asked to create a poster board of his life to share with the class during his special birthday week. Sunday night, after a weekend at Legoland, we sat at the kitchen table with him until after 11:00 PM working on the project until it was perfect. He took such pride in himself and his life, we couldn’t help but be touched. Where has my little baby boy gone? Today, a five year old boy, he looked up at me with a big grin from ear-to-ear, and made my heart melt — just like he did the moment I first saw him five years ago today.

Happy Birthday Jacob Mac. I love you more than anything.

See also: Our Family Expands: Two More Kids
Our Budding Artist
Budding Artist, Part Deux
More Jacob stories

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