“I’ll never sleep!” – Adventures with Belle

This week Janelle was reading something I’d written about what Belle was saying before her 2nd birthday.  As she read it we realized we’d both forgotten about Belle ever saying those things.  It was a reminder to me that I need to be better about jotting stuff down when she does it, so we don’t forget.  She does so many cute/impressive/wonderful things on a regular basis that it’s easy to have them slip by without writing them down.

Last night it was a serious battle trying to get Belle to go to sleep.  She asked “why do we have to go night night every day?!”  After Janelle and I read her several stories and left her to fall asleep, she started to fuss and cry and get out of bed.  We left the lights on (she has a princess Christmas tree that is really bright in and of itself, and she wanted her lamp on) but that wasn’t enough.She threw all the bedding off her bed and screamed things like:

“I really miss Mommy and Daddy!”

“Daddy!  DADDY! Come here!”

“I don’t want to go night night.”

And my favorite…

“I’ll never sleep!  Never!”

During a lull in her tantrum I came in and started to talk to her.  I don’t know exactly what I did or how I did it but I convinced Belle it would be cool if I put the stuff back on her bed (with her showing me where it all goes).  Then I laid in there and talked to Belle for probably ten minutes before leaving.  This time she let me go and fell asleep peacefully.

We talked about what she would be doing soon, and we talked about what it will be like when I take her to see The Princess and the Frog.  It’s going to be the very first movie she sees in a theater.  She asked if they had blankets and pillows at the theater in case she gets cold.  When I told her they didn’t, she asked if she could bring her own blanket.

I also told her about how you give your ticket to the man or lady and they rip it, then give it back to you.

“I will not say thank you to the lady,” she said.  When I asked why, she replied “because I will be shy.”

I love my little girl.  I went from absolute frustration and exasperation to utter amazement and thankfulness to God in the span of an hour.  Parenthood rules.

Ode to my Wife

I’m occasionally struck by the notion that I am living through a movie scene.  In my particularly self-pitying days of singlehood I imagined I was living through some insipid romance movie where the nice guy has to wade through years of loneliness to find the right woman.  Thank God that’s over. 

It still sometimes occurs to me, however, that a moment in my life could be taken straight from a movie.

This has happened more often since we had children.  It’s less that I feel my life in particular is entertaining enough to watch and more that the circumstances seem so ridiculous as to be almost contrived.  Last night was one of those moments.

Juliette, our five-week old daughter, wakes up frequently during the night.  Some are better than others of course but last night was not a good one.  Janelle and I went to bed around 9:30 and Juliette woke up every 60-90 minutes.  During one feeding Janelle went into the kitchen to start up the dishwasher to wash the bottles.  Around 1:30 Juliette woke up screaming again and Janelle went out to get the bottles out of the dishwasher and prepare one. 

While holding Juliette in the bedroom I heard Janelle say something – I can’t quite remember what it was – but I remember knowing it wasn’t good.  It sounded like she had seen something disgusting, or perhaps she’d hurt herself.  I called out a few times and got no response.  Finally she responded.

“Our dishwasher flooded the kitchen.”

As it turned out, the detergent Janelle purchased last week, which was labeled “Dish Detergent” and was in the same section as the dishwasher detergent was in fact not meant for use in a dishwasher.  As we took turns cleaning the kitchen (including moving the refrigerator so we could get the water under it) Janelle berated herself and said “I even thought it seemed a little runny but I just figured it was because it was cheap.” 

At 1-something in the morning I am more than happy to find fault with others and find a way to blame them for things that inconvenience me.  But try as I might I couldn’t fault Janelle for being foolish with the dish soap – there are hints on the labeling, such as “easy on your hands!” and whatnot but I certainly would have assumed it was detergent for the dishwasher based on its name and its placement in the store – away from all the handwashing dish soap and with the detergent.  In retrospect obviously it was a mistake but it’s completely understandable.

So as I wiggled the fridge out of its spot in the kitchen it occurred to me that this could be a scene from a comedy wherein the couple is simply overwhelmed at life with a new baby and a 3 year-old.  Already not sleeping regularly we have the dishwasher flood the kitchen in the middle of the night.  As I thought more about it I realized how fortunate I am, for two reasons.

First, I am fortunate that the movie would be a comedy rather than a tragedy.  So many parents are faced with awful difficulties with their children.  Illnesses, complications, diseases rare or common, inability to feed the family or pay the bills – these are all problems we are thankfully and by God’s grace not faced with.  Whatever difficulties we do have, Janelle and I try to remind one another that we really are blessed beyond any measure and far beyond anything we could ever deserve.  Which leads me to the second reason I am so fortunate.

I’m fortunate to be able to go through all of this with a woman as awesome as Janelle is.  I use the word “awesome” to describe a lot of things but it is rarely as appropriate as it is when I use it to refer to my wife.  She has not had a good night’s sleep in at least 5 weeks; to be honest probably not since Belle has been born but we may have snuck one in here or there.  Every day (after a night of waking up and taking care of Juliette several times) she takes care of a newborn and a three year-old, she manages the house, plans meals, keeps the place clean, usually has dinner ready for me when I get home, encourages me to work out even though it takes a little extra time, lets me watch football…the list goes on.  She is awesome in a very real sense of the word.

Faced with the situation last night I think many people in Janelle’s situation would have resorted to some kind of something – be it passive-aggressive comments about how I should have done this or that, or just frustrated angry comments about the situation, or just shutting down with exhaustion.  But she did none of that.  Janelle kept her cool and we worked well together getting everything sorted and cleaned up without fighting or arguing or bickering.  As we went back to bed and lay down about 45 minutes after beginning the cleanup, I was struck with how gracefully Janelle had handled the whole situation.  I told her as much but this morning as I think more about it I really am struck by how truly blessed I am to have this woman as my wife. 

It’s sort of a cliche among Christians that men want to find and women want to be a “Proverbs 31 woman” but I really do think I have one in Janelle.  If I made a checklist out of the passage and measured Janelle against it, there would be a check in every box.  She is great with money, organizes our home wonderfully, works hard through trouble and difficulty to make life better for me and our daughters (and others), and more. 

When Janelle and I first started dating I was surprised to find out many of my friends knew her from high school.  When I told them I was with Janelle Cornelio they could not stop talking about how great she was and how lucky I was.  I had no clue how right they were.  I often joke that I view the fact that Janelle married me as proof there is a God.  Truth be told it’s only half of a joke.  Every day Janelle is a living, breathing example of the grace and love God has for me.  I know I don’t deserve her and I am so grateful for every day I get to spend with her.

Tales of Brotherly Cruelty 2: Action Figures

Cruelty is too strong a word for this story but it wasn’t exactly nice.  Action figures and toy lines generally came with two teams.  Transformers had their Autobots and Decepticons, Go-Bots had Guardians and Renegades, Barnyard Commandos had R.A.M.S. and P.O.R.K.S., MASK had…well…MASK and VENOM…  There were so many awesome toys to be had, but I usually thought one side was better than the other.  Of course Dave and I could not both collect the same team.  So once I decided which team I wanted to collect I made sure Dave collected the other.

I do remember having to sell him on the toys I didn’t want.  With TMNT stuff I had him collect the turtles and secondary characters I didn’t want, but we both had goodguys and badguys.  Dave never really got to choose which toys he would collect.  I made the choices for him.  I would try to convince him that the team I wanted him to collect was good or cool or better.  I don’t know how many time I cajoled him into getting a toy he didn’t really want with his allowance, or to put stuff on his Christmas list that complemented the stuff on my own.

I don’t think he was ever really convinced by my salesmanship, but I think he just decided it would be easier to go along with me so we could just play already.  I made sure I got my way and I would not relent until he gave in and accepted the role I gave him.  If he refused, there was always my favorite punishment/enforcement method: punching him in the shoulder until he gave in.

Tales of Brotherly Cruelty 1 : Video Games

The other day I randomly remembered something I did to my brother Dave years ago.  It just popped into my mind, and I thought about what a jerk I was.  I’ve often remarked “I’m glad Dave still likes me” because I did some mean things to him when we were younger.  If I were to psychoanalyze things I could probably find a few things to blame for my actions: stress from our parents’ divorce, being a dork and needing to have dominance over someone, personal insecurity, the fact that we were often stuck together for extended periods of time, etc.  Really though, that’s not very entertaining and those are basically excuses. 

In case you didn’t know, my brother Dave and I are 17 months apart.  I’m a little older than him, though in school I was two grades ahead because of where our birthdays fall.  We have one sister, who is seven years older than me.  This made the two of us de fact best friends and we played together a lot.  In many ways we played out the archetypal roles of big and little brother.

I’m going to do some posts on thing I did to my brother that were pretty messed up.  Some are more messed up than others of course, but hopefully they will entertain you to some degree.

First up – Video Games. 

Dave and I grew up loving to play video games.  We had an Atari as little kids, a Nintendo a bit later (we got that late), a Super Nintendo, and eventually an N64.  We were never really at the cutting edge of video games growing up because we never really had the money to pay exorbitant prices for games.  Still, our parents often stretched their finances too far to get us those video games we wanted on holidays.  While we were often partners in crime in the video game world, both lobbying our parents for favor and games, I definitely found ways to be a jerk to Dave:

 

1. I always got Player One.  Dave wanted to be Player One, but I insisted upon being Player One at all times.  I wanted control of the menu, I wanted to set the options, I wanted to hit “continue” at the end, I wanted the left side of the screen.  I demanded the P1 controller and if I didn’t get it, Dave felt the pain.  This rarely came up because I established my place as P1 early and he usually didn’t fight me on it.

 

1a. I got first pick of characters.  Occasionally we’d play a game,  like TMNT, where you had a choice of more than two characters.  If this were the case, I would always demand first choice.  If I wanted to play as Michaelangelo, Dave could not.  Ever.  I always got first choice.  If he got used to playing a different character and I changed my mind – then he had to get used to playing a different character.  I usually picked my favorites and stuck with them – and I often tried to convince Dave that his guy really was cool so he thought it was his decision and not mine – but if a conflict ever arose I made sure I got to play who I wanted.

2. In co-op games, I had power-up priority.  If there was ever a chance to upgrade your weapon or get a power-up in a co-op game, I had priority.  I wouldn’t hog them all, of course. (It’s important your teammate has upgraded weapons too, after all.)  But in most games there would be some kind of upgrade tree – you could have missiles or spread shots or whatever else – and I always got to choose my tree.  If there were no trees then we would be pretty good about taking turns with the power-ups – but I always tried to make sure I had full advantage of the upgrades, and if there was anything left over for Dave that was fine.

3. In single-player games, Dave had to help me but I may not have helped him.  Mega Man 2 was a single-player game, but if you held down the A button on the second controller, then the person playing the game could “super jump” and would never die if they fell into a pit.  Any time I wanted to play I would make sure Dave held the button down for me.  He had to sit there and watch me play.  If he wanted to do something else he would not be allowed to do so.  Occasionally he realized he held some power because if he took his finger off the button (something he did “accidentally” quite often) my guy would die.  This led to some negotiations (if you hold the button for me I’ll hold it for you) but by and large I made sure if there was some way Dave could help me while I was playing a game I would get him to do it.

4. Dave got the crappy controller. As Big Brother (and Player One), I saw it as my right to have the best controller.  We always seemed to have one good controller and one sub-optimal controller.  Whether it was because a button was sticky or it was some stupid “custom” controller, one was almost always inferior.  I made sure Dave used that one.  Of course I would try to convince him it was better if I could, but in the end it just came down to me demanding my way.

 

5. He could not “cheap” me.  If Dave were beating me at any competitive game I would generally accuse him of “cheaping” me.  This term comes specifically from Street Fighter 2.  He’d jump at me in the air and keep hitting the “short kick” button, which is a really fast strike.  He’d jump up as Ken (I got to play Ryu because I wanted, and he was stuck with Ken) and that freaking knee would come down on me.  I wasn’t good enough to do anything about it most of the time, so whenever he would start “cheaping” me I would warn him.  I’d say:

“Stop cheaping me!  Stop or I’m going to hit you.”

*He continues to beat me.*

“Stop or I’ll hit you!”

*He furiously hits the button, trying to kill my guy before the inevitable occurs.*

*I hit him in the shoulder until he stops.*

 

I’m sure there were other ways I was a jerk to Dave over video games.  I think I remember trying to convince him to ask for a video game I wanted for his birthday so I could get the game.  These are the ones that come most readily to mind.  I have some real fond memories of video games with my brother.  It was practically a tradition for the two of us to ride our bikes to Doorstep Video and rent a video game or two for the weekend on Fridays.  We had lots of fun playing games together, like Contra or Guerilla War (so much fun) or one of the countless games where you fly a plane and blow up everything on the screen.  Oh yeah, and Double Dragon, that game was awesome too.  Lots of good memories – but man, I was a jerk!

Living the Dream

I just thought I’d post a little update since Janelle and I have been pretty scarce lately in our social circles.  The second semester is in full swing now and our schedule has hit full tilt as well.  Janelle is working full-time as a 3rd grade teacher and is a full-time student finishing her Master’s.  I’m student teaching, which means I am essentially working full-time for no pay (though my master teacher is great about getting me opportunities to fill in here and there as a sub for some pay) and I am also a full-time student. 

I am taking this week off to let my body recover a bit, but have been getting up at 4:40 Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to work out.  Every morning I need to leave for work by 7 and Janelle by 8.  Most of the time I pick Belle up right after work and Janelle gets home around 5:30ish.  We eat dinner, play with Belle and put her to bed around 8ish.  Whenever we can, we cram in things like grading papers and lesson planning and getting our own schoolwork done.

It seems like we’ve all been sick the past couple of months pretty consistently, which has made us a bit more tired at the end of the day.  Yesterday and today have been the worst for me, but I think I’m starting to get better.

Some Saturdays I attend class for the first half of the day, and every Sunday we’re part of South Bay Church, a new church start.  I show up there at 7 to help with setup and leave around 1:30 when we’re all packed up.

Our schedules are jam-packed and we feel like we’re running in survival mode.  I think part of the reason we are sick is because we’ve sort of run ourselves into the ground.

It may sound like I’m complaining…and I may be.  This is also a world where busyness is considered by many as some kind of badge of honor.  We often try to one-up each other with how little sleep we got or how busy we are.  There’s probably some of that in this post as well.  I’d like to think, though, that I’m also posting this just to keep you updated on what’s going on with us and why you aren’t seeing too much of us lately.  We know this pace isn’t healthy but we also know it’s just for a season.

Come July we will both have finished our credential programs, Janelle will have finished her Master’s, I will have four classes left to complete mine, and we will have the summer to recover and look for work in the Fall.  The job market for teachers isn’t too hot this year but we are optimistic and know God will continue to provide one way or another.  It is a cliche thing to say but God really has provided for us in some pretty amazing ways since we’ve gotten married and He continues to do so.  We are pushing hard right now because we believe in the long run we are setting ourselves up to be able to live the kinds of lives we want and that God made us to live.

I recently made the mistake of complaining to a friend about my busy schedule and lack of time to myself and he said this to me: “you’re the one that fell in love and got married and started a family.”  Some days I have to remind myself in the midst of my physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual exhaustion: I really am living the dream.  I have a great wife and daughter, awesome family and friends, a good education, good health, and live more comfortably than 99 percent of the people who have ever lived on this planet.

So who am I to complain?

I’m Jackson, that’s who!

Belle’s 2nd Birthday

I just uploaded some pictures from Belle’s 2nd Birthday Party.  Click here to check them out.

Belle Brings Cute to a New Level

Belle turns two on Saturday.  We've been telling her about her upcoming "Princess Party" (we gave it a name to make it sound special) and all the stuff associated with it.  The last few nights she's fallen asleep talking to us about who's coming to the party and what she wants at the party.  Last night when she was in a bad mood she said nobody was going to come to her birthday party.  Tonight was different.

My Dad, being the awesome cook he is, will be providing the meat.  About fifteen minutes ago as we were laying down with Belle to get her to go to sleep we started talking more about her party.  Our conversation began something like this:

"Belle, is Dave coming to your party?"

"Yes."

"Is Jesse coming to your party?"

"Uh huh."

"Are you going to have a pink castle cake at your party?"

"Yes.  I have Apple Juice too!"

"Is Papa coming to your party?"

"Yes.  Papa bringing my meat for me."

Then she began essentially repeating the same few sentences, rearranging the words periodically but making sure we know about it.  In the dark, Belle's little hands grabbed for my cheeks and turned my head toward her to make sure I understood the gravity of what she was telling me:

"Daddy, Papa have be careful my meat.  Papa, don't drop it.  Papa, don't drop meat.  Papa have be careful."  After this was established she moved on to other things my Dad needs to look out for.

"Papa have cut my meat for me.  Papa have be careful.  It sharp, Papa.  Papa have cut my meat.  Be careful, Papa, it sharp.  Papa have be careful."

She is freaking adorable.  More than that, she apparently loves  eating meat.  Belle has also taken a liking to the A's and Niners.  She puts on my 49ers hat and says "Go Niners!"  Her Auntie Shannon got her a foam finger at the A's game a couple weeks ago, and every now and then she puts that on and marches around the house saying "Go A's!"

I am truly a blessed man.  As a side note, if my Dad drops the meat and/or cuts himself this weekend at the party I will start documenting Belle's "ramblings" and possibly ask her to pick some lotto numbers for me.

Didn’t Get It

For those of you keeping track, I didn’t get the job I wanted at Washington.  The school wanted to hire me but the district office wants them to hire a credentialed teacher.  I knew my only hope was it being too late for them to get a credentialed teacher but apparently that’s not the case.  It looks like for the Fall I’ll be subbing and tutoring (I got a job with a tutoring company) while Janelle does her indentured servitude student teaching and then come February she’ll sub while I student teach.  With whatever income I’m able to cobble together, plus student loans, plus our savings, we should be able to eke by for the next year.  By this time next year we’ll both have full teaching credentials and will hopefully be able to land teaching jobs, at which time we’ll be able to begin the wonderful task of repaying our student loans.

Proud of Poo

Parenthood makes you proud of weird things.

Today when Belle was in the bath she got a real concerned look on her face, looked up at me, and said "poo poo!" It took a moment for that to register and I figured I should get her out of the bath in case she was making an announcement about something she was going to do soon. I picked her up but wasn't sure what to do from there. She has a little trainer toilet in the bathroom that has gone unused up to this point and it was closed so I couldn't sit her on it. As that thought crossed my mind, Belle commenced the aerial bombing of her bathtub.

It's a big moment though. She's never told us before she went to the bathroom. I'm proud of her. Maybe potty training her will be easy, and that will help compensate for the fact that she never sleeps right.

Career Change

As some of you already know but others of you don't, I will be making a career change soon.  My employment as Youth Pastor at Crossroads will be over at the end of January, and I am looking for a full-time job in a non-church environment.  I'm going for jobs that are related to things I love to do and am skilled at.  So my focus is on training and development jobs, helping people do their jobs better, become better educated, better employees, co-workers, all that.  This has been in the works for a while, but last night was the night we announced it to Crossroads as a whole.

I wasn't sure how I'd react when I got up in front of the congregation and announced I wouldn't be working with the kids anymore.  I love working with them and I love them - but I'm also not much of an emotional display sort of person.  Somewhat to my surprise I started to tear up when I was talking about it in front of everybody last night.  I think it was good for the kids to see that I genuinely care about them, as some of them may wonder about that since I'm moving out of the youth ministry. 

I'm excited about the changes a new career will bring to our family.  The schedule Janelle and I have been keeping the past couple years, and especially in the time since we've had Belle, has been crazy.  We have no days off together, and many weeknights I'm busy with ministry stuff.  Janelle and I often don't have much time to give good energy into spending time together, and the concept of getting away for a weekend or taking even a day trip as a family is just about unheard of.  With me getting a job with a more regular schedule, Janelle will be able to work less and we'll be able to match our schedules better.  We will have weekends.  Heck, I haven't really had weekends since I was 16. 

Today I had my first interview at a place in Mountain View (not Google) that I think would be pretty sweet to work at.  The position would be good because it's in the arena I want to get involved with (Training and Development) but I don't have to put in time as an HR Generalist and learn stuff I'm less enthusiastic about.  I think the interview went well, but now I have to wait to hear back.  It's a different thing for me; every job I've had up to this point has been with people I knew beforehand as a customer or friend, or where I had some sort of a hookup.  Going in to complete strangers and trying to sell myself is an odd feeling.  But I think things went well and I hope this first interview will be my last for a long time.

I Hope This Works

Tonight when Janelle gets home from work, the two of us will be heading to Palo Alto to spend the night, without Belle.  It will be the first time we're both away from Belle for a night.  Janelle's sister Shannon will be at our place with Belle, and then on Sunday she'll take Belle over the Grandma's to play.  We know Belle will be fine at Grandma's on Sunday because she's there three days a week and loves it...we're not sure how she'll do tonight without us.  I am hoping and praying she's good for Shannon and we don't receive any calls about how she's hysterically crying and won't stop.  Belle's at that separation-anxiety stage right now and she's never been without both of us for a night so we'll see how it goes.  Janelle and I could really use an evening and morning together without anybody or anything else to worry about...even if we will be staying in the belly of the beast, next to the hated Stanford Cardinal campus.

My Dad is Crazy

 

 

This is him jumping off the highest bungee platform in the world on the Macau Tower.  He did this yesterday, at the age of 52, while on a business trip in China.  He sure knows how to take advantage of his spare time.  Sweet mother.

It's been a year?!

Today is Belle's first birthday.  Part of me thinks time has flown by, but there were also some nights that would never end and very long days in the past year.  A year ago at this very moment I was driving back to the hospital to see Janelle and Belle because I wasn't allowed to stay with them after Belle was born since Janelle had to share a room with another new mother.

Well I was going to type some sort of reflective post but it seems Belle has decided it is time to wake up so it's time to go.  Instead I will leave you with this incredibly cute picture of Belle with her cousin at the park, and suggest you head over to the flickr page to look at the latest batch I uploaded.  There are some pretty great ones in there.

Pictures of Belle

Janelle and I took Belle to get some pictures a couple days ago.  She's 9 months old now and doing well.  Just got over her first fever and sickness, has started crawling and pulling herself up to standing on things.  These pictures are of Belle wearing a dress that Janelle and all here sisters had baby pictures taken in, so Belle is continuing the Cornelio girl tradition there.  Enjoy these pictures:

Belle is being great

Sometimes I post on here out of desperation or frustration to complain about how Belle isn't sleeping or something like that.  But for the past five or so days with very little exception she's been in a great mood.  She's so awesome.  Inquisitive, nosy, happy, smiley, playful, squirmy, drooly...adorable as adorable can be.  Sometimes it's difficult on Thursdays or Saturdays when I watch her during the day and Janelle is at work - but not today.  Belle is being an absolute pleasure.  She's even taken two long naps...one for three hours and the other for two.  I want her to wake up so I can play with her instead of wanting her to go to sleep so I can get a break from her.  Good stuff.

i make this baby cry

Belle has been sick a bit recently.  Nothing major, just sniffly and cough sort of stuff.  It makes it more difficult for her (and by extension us) to sleep.  For a while she was doing pretty well with the whole "sleeping in her crib in her own room" thing but when she got sick it sort of went out the window.  She'd wake up coughing like she was going to hack up a lung, then she'd start crying because she felt miserable.  Because of that we started to get lax with her sleeping habits.

Even with naps we would hold Belle until she fell asleep, and sometimes rock her to sleep.  When it came time for her to go down I would put her into her crib and hope she didn't wake up.  If she did, she'd realize what was going on (I would no longer be holding her) and she'd start crying.  Not wanting that to happen, I'd pick her back up (which would bring an immediate halt to the crying) until she fell asleep and try again.  Sometimes she'd stay asleep a while, other times not so much.  At night it became a regular occurrence for us to bring her into our bed.  That was cool in some ways (she is very cute) but other times it would make sleeping harder.

Belle would sleep between Janelle and I.  If she woke up that meant she  had two readily accessible toys - our faces.  She has a particular affinity for grabbing my beard and pulling on it as hard as possible (which is quite hard...seven month old babies are stronger than you think).  She'd also grab our necks or cheeks or lips and squeeze.  This was disruptive to our sleeping patterns to say the least.  But at least we didn't have to get up and put her binky in in the middle of the night.  We didn't realize it but Belle had assumed control of the sleeping patterns in our house.  This past Saturday was my breaking point, after weeks of zombie-ness.

Due to her lack of regular naps and irregular night sleep schedule Belle had been fussy all day (for a few days).  She wouldn't sleep but the time she was awake she'd be irritable and impossible to please.  And I checked, that' s not just because she's a girl.  I was watching Belle alone and after one of those put-you-down-and-hope-you-don't-wake-but-oh-crap-you-did-and-now-we-start-again sessions I decided that she just needed to sleep.  So when she started crying I left the room and let her cry.  She cried for about a half-hour before falling asleep.  It was tough but I knew she needed rest and wasn't getting it.  She slept for about 30 minutes and woke up in the best mood she'd been in all day. 

Saturday night I convinced Janelle it was time to lay the law down with Belle, who had somehow become 7 months old.  I figured we needed to get in the routine now of Belle being able to put herself to sleep so as she got older we wouldn't have to do all these weird things to get her to sleep, and also so she wouldn't be sleeping in our bed.  The last couple days have been a little tough due to hearing her cry, but she's crying less and less each time, and getting more and more rest.  The result is a more pleasant baby and also more pleasant parents.

My experience as a parent so far has been that just when we think we're got something down, or just when we think we're in a rhythm, something happens to screw it up.  So we'll see.  Belle should be teething more soon...we'll see how that impacts the sleeping.  Anyway.

Sleep, little one

I love Belle very much. I just wish she would go back to sleep after you feed her in the middle of the night instead of pulling her binky out and complaining about it until you fix it.

Belle's World

The weather in the Bay Area has been pretty great the last few days. The sky is blue, the sun is out, and the hills are green. The hills around Fremont are gorgeous during the last bit of winter and most of spring. The rain keeps them a verdant green. I've never been to Ireland, but a friend of mine who has says that Niles Canyon in the spring is as beautiful as anything he saw on the Emerald Isle.

Belle is still too young to really know what's going on around her or even what she's seeing. She's five months old as of yesterday and has just recently started to become very aware of her world. She tracks objects really well, cranes around (in often hilarious ways) to see things she's curious about, and wants to touch everything (subsequently placing it in her mouth for further inspection). The last week or so she's had some sort of cold and the last couple of days she's been quite grumpy and had an especially hard time sleeping, which is out of character for her. So far the thing that's worked the best to mollify her when she's upset is taking her outside. Her little eyes get incredibly wide as she is taken into the outside world; she begins to coo and giggle at everything, even the wasteland we call a front yard.

This is one of the best things about being a father so far. Belle finds wonder in the most mundane things. Her eyes light up when she sees the juniper bushes in front of our house. I'm not a big fan of those bushes. To me they are a haven for spiders and other such undesirable things. Belle looks at the world around her and marvels at trees and dirt and bushes and lawns and cars and bricks on the sidewalk. It brings me a particular sort of joy to see the way she reacts when Belle looks around at these things for the first time.

She doesn't see a tree as a plant sucking up water from the soil, processing carbon dioxide and emitting oxygen. To her it is something entirely different, something mysterious, wonderful, and impossibly huge. To her a dandelion isn't a weed - it's a bright attractive yellow splash on an otherwise uniform ground. Seeing the wonder and joy in her eyes as she observers her world is amazing. It makes me want to show her so much, to take her so many places, just so she can see and experience new things. It's a partially selfish desire - because my heart warms up every time she lets out a squeal of delight upon seeing something I'd consider mundane.

Being a dad is pretty great. I've said it before, but it is both the most difficult and most joyful thing I've ever been a part of. Even with the lack of sleep, added stress and complication to my life and marriage - I'd rather be Belle's father than have a simpler life. I can't imagine myself as not being Belle's dad. It makes life harder, but it makes life better. I am a special kind of blessed to be the father of a beautiful little girl and the husband of an incomparably fantastic woman.

More pics of Belle

Nice hat
Originally uploaded by actionjax.

For those of you interested, there are some more pics of Belle up at my flickr site. You can click the picture or the link below it to go check them out. Belle turns four months old in a few days. It's pretty amazing how much she's grown in that span. I didn't realize it till I looked at some of the older pictures.

I remember a guy I go to Seminary with telling me that you consider your newborn adorable but then when some time passes and you see the pictures, they sort of resemble lizards. Now, I think Belle was a particularly adorable newborn, but there is some semblance of truth to what this man told me.

Don't make me sic her on you