jeremy&jethro

Out Of Water, Into Hotel

One of the challenges of solo parenting is to make sure all systems are go at home so that the kids are comfortable, there is food in the fridge, there’s milk for the bottles, there’s a stash of diapers at the ready. I try to make sure all that’s taken cared of, but what’s a mom to do when the water runs out in the entire apartment?

Well, short of letting things stink, what can one do but pack up the kids and the yayas and go off to a hotel? Ah yes, kids put a different spin on a crisis. They actually make it a fun break from the routine.

Jeremy thinks the whole business of mama playing hooky is a hoot.

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It can be said that Jethro finally learned to walk inside a hotel room. Perfecting his wobbly technique required lots of pratice. Hold on to the bed, baby Jet!

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Motivation is the key. Set goals high so that kids can extend their reach.

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Head-banging dances are definitely in order.

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That bruise on Jeremy's forehead is par for the course.

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Jethro thinks the lamp is the source of all things. It is to be contemplated most seriously.

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Closets are for opening and closing, mama. Don’t you get it?

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Pink curtains are tacky, yes. Don’t they serve better purpose as parachutes?

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You gotta love boys and their antics.

We stayed up late watching TV, then had a leisurely breakfast the next day. This was followed by more horsing around in the room. A rockin’ good time was had by all.

Later that day, when we finally checked out, I think I was the one who was most sorry to go.
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I Stand, Therefore I Am

The nice thing with being upright is that finally, now you can peer into boxes, look down at your feet, maybe even try and check out the view. What’s outside that window, Jethro?

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Bend It Like Manong

Who knows why they do the things they do? Little boys are a constant burst of energy. Here clearly, Manong Jeremy thinks bending to the floor is a good way to pass the time on the ferry.

We were on board such a vessel for the trip back to Cebu from Negros. For 45 minutes, Jeremy explored the air-con deck, grinning at passengers, inspecting the life vests, testing the mechanism of the glass doors.

He did a little dance, and made faces at the TV. I was exhausted, just trying to keep up. He is wearing the Gap shirt chosen by Tita Joy, in a burnt brown color that suits him very well. He looks so grown up, in his long pants and proper boy shoes.

Bowl Cut, Away!

How could such a little boy have so much hair?

Jethro had great shocks of it, glossy black, straight and thick. The kid really had shampoo-model quality hair, hair that should belong rightfully, on a girl.

But being a boy, Jethro's hair always got in his way, creeping into his eyes, curling into and causing itching around his ears and nape.

Technically, Jethro's first haircut was done by Lola Nanay, who took a pair of scissors and snipped the unruly locks straight across Jethro's forehead. Instant Beatles, what can I say. Here is Jethro's cut before the pros took over.

Just before his first birthday, I decided to finally trim off that great abundance of hair.  So off we went to Bartber's, the kiddie barbershop that had a life-size Yoda and Darth Vader in the corners. There was a tent filled with colored plastic balls and shelves upon shelves of toys to distract the kids into submission. There were kiddie cars that doubled as seat for the kiddie customers. Best of all, they think nothing of having two barbers work on your unruly kid. Jeremy also got his first haircut here.

Jethro's first few snips were no trouble at all, he took the scissors in stride, thinking it was all just a game. A peculiar game, one that caused you to lose hair, but well, a game nonetheless. After he realized though, that this was actually some form of adult activity imposed  on children, he started complaining. Good thing that barber was skilled in the art of distraction and sleight of hand.

Snip snip snip!  The barber did a merry dance all around the kid's head, cutting this way and that, aiming for angles, avoiding the tiny fingers that reached out for a grab at the scissors. Gobs of jet-black hair fell and made a mess of swirls on the floor.

I made sure I got tradition right—I asked for several locks of hair to put in Jethro's babybook. They gave it to me tucked neatly inside a little brown envelope.

Snip-a-snip! In no time at all it seems, the cut was done. After the obligatory dusting off with baby powder, Jethro was no longer a Paul McCartney look-a-like, but actually a handsome little devil, all by himself.

I mean, look at that face now!

Holy 1-2-3 Batman!

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You are three years old today, and Mama decides on a Batman cake to mark your leaving toddlerhood.

Lovely boy with the almond eyes, you can climb a flight of stairs now, open all cabinets, be choosy with your food, take apart mechanized toys and peer at their guts, count carefully to 10 (seven is vesen?), put together your Lego blocks. You like neatness and order, will spend hours arranging books in a line on the floor, lining up stuffed animals on the windowsill just so.

Snub-nosed boy with such red lips, you are a potato-monster! You devour chips one by one, and wipe away the crumbs. You know which brand you want and will not settle for substitutes. You will pretend to drink from my big glass and then say “aaaahhh” because that’s the way the grownups do it. You can say “French fries” clearly but only if you want to. You nibble at chocolates from my fingers, and demand that I open my hand to see if there are more. Your other favorite is chicken, the drumstick, and you eat it round and round on the bone, mouth open wide. You climb up on my chair at dinnertime, sit on my lap and pick at my food, and we wrestle with the fork.

Happy boy with the bright grin, you can grip my heart in a tight fist when you turn away in a sulk. You send me to sleep with your soft snoring, only to wake me up with an arm carelessly flung at my face. I love the yummy smell of your neck when we snuggle in bed, it makes up for those times when you sneak in your cold feet under the blankets and bury them in my tummy. You can wave and say buh-bye now, and send me off to work, and at the end of the day, I hurry home to your brown arms, to that warm hug.

I am carefully marking the years, you know. I know for certain that childhood days are fleeting. One day, you will run away from me instead of towards me, will no longer plead to be carried, will no longer say,  “Mama lang,” will not seek me out in the darkness as you struggle with a bad dream, will find other more amusing playmates, will miss me less and less as the outside world draws you in more and more. I will love you even then, still. And I will love you always.

Beautiful boy, Jeremy Isaac, first-born, long awaited and prayed for, you are three today.

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Summer Kiss

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You know for sure, one day they'll be chasing each other, screaming bloody murder over ownership of a toy, possession of the TV remote, or playground rights.

You'll be mediating in endless arguments: "He did it!"  "No, he did it!"  "No! He did it!"  "No he did!"

You know you'll have to pull them apart mid-fight, even as they ferociously try to land those small-fisted punches.

You'll be buying two sets of toys, just to keep the peace and possibly, get out of the store with your dignity intact.

Ah yes. You know how it will all be.

But for now, this is how it is:  scampering about in their white sandos on a hot summer day, sun-shiny smiles, their little brown arms locked happily in that child-tight embrace, the wet sloppy kiss.

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Into The Blue

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He didn’t know there would be a pool.

I was afraid that he would fall face-first into the water and be traumatized.

It turns out I needn’t have worried. Jeremy started out by exploring the sides of the pool, walking in thigh-high water, sometimes slipping, but able to maintain his balance.

He’s finally grown into this pair of trunks.

Tito Jet gave him a water gun, but he didn’t quite know how to work it.  So he just shook that thing around, splashed it about, let water drip out.

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Star-Clipped

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Jethro was born with a full head of thick, glossy black hair. I remember thinking clearly, when he was first placed on my bosom, “He has such a narrow forehead.”

Turns out it wasn’t really that his forehead was narrow, it was that he had so much hair, part of his forehead was obscured. Three, four months later that hair was a shock of jet-black strands that flew wildly about, creating a halo around his head. But he looked so cute, almost like a girl.

After numerous scratches and red ears due to Jethro’s frenzied grabbing at his hair, we took to clipping the front locks away from his eyes. I had to search for very plain, navy blue hairclips. Amazing the number of pink, purple, and bright yellow barrettes out there when all you want is a plain clip.

For a trip home to my folks I packed Jethro’s usual clips way deep into our bags, too hard to dig out, so I had to buy new ones. All the souvenir shop had were pink strawberries and smiling Hello Kitty clips. Good thing I spotted these metal ones, with the yellow starfish. They were the most boyish clips there.
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Some Serious Sulking

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For the most part of the ride he sat in his Lola’s lap, ignoring me. He is a serious sulker, this Jeremy.

Backstory:  In January of this year, I had to leave Jeremy with his Lolo and Lola, because I couldn’t find a yaya for him. Jethro has Yaying, so he came back home with me and we had to leave manong behind. It wrenches my heart to do this, but I have to work and one yaya cannot take care of a baby and a toddler. But try explaining all this to Jeremy; he just knows that he was the one that got left behind.

Not that staying with the grandparents isn’t fun—Jeremy is the boss at home, hands down. It’s just that, I think when he saw me he remembered that I was gone again for some time. We last saw each other in January, and now we’re back for a Holy Week visit—it is March. 

So we sat side by side in the car in the hours-long drive to my parent’s house. Jeremy is hard to win over. I tried smiling and holding his hand, but he takes it back. He says emphatically, “No, no, no.”  I wait patiently and continue to talk quietly to him, even though he appears to be ignoring me.

After a while, his Lola hands me a bag of caramel puffs, and says with a wink, “Jeremy must be hungry.”

Aha, a break in the case. I pop open the bag and Jeremy sits up, interested. I hand him a caramel puff. He looks at it, looks at me. I smile. He looks at me, a grave, thoughtful expression on his sun-browned face. He gets the puff and puts it in his mouth, not looking at me. I eat a puff and grin at him. This time he smiles, a tiny, impish smile. Soon we are caramel puff conspirators, munching away. A few mouthfuls later, he’s warmed up enough to sit on my lap.

Surreptitiously, I tighten my hug. I lean into his shoulder and kiss the back of his neck. I always, always, always miss this boy.

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Jethro + Holy Water = Baptism

 
10AM Saturday
March 19, 2005
St. Joseph The Patriarch Parish
Mabolo, Cebu

So months of planning finally came down to this: a wide-eyed baby wiggling in barong and ecru pants, squinting and drooling in the morning sun.

Two weddings were also scheduled that day, so we blended right into the crowd of tulle-wrapped brides and pouting flower girls. We were almost late, because Jethro kept pulling off the soft-soled Italian moccasins that I was so happy to find, the last pair on sale. He looked very grown-up and curious in his barong. And he kept chewing the pretty embroidered panel in front.

We were a small group, just close friends who had time to make it to Cebu, family, and friends from work. Everybody kept saying how big Jethro is, how he looks more like a year-old baby instead of a 7-month.

Now I know that baptisms were done in a little area off the main church aisle, where there was a fount and a serious-looking statue of the patron saint. 

Jethro was quite behaved all throughout the ceremony, except for that time when he kept grabbing the paper the priest was reading the baptism rites from. The more the priest waved it out of reach, the more he kept trying to get hold of it—he thought it was some kind of game.

1  Jethro putting on his barong.
2  Ninong Jet, what an armful!
3  Face-off with Tito Alan.

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Later, at the lunch in Krua Thai, Jethro entertained his guests with sputterings, shrieks, and big grins.  We had yummy tom yung goong, noodles, fried spring rolls,  a few spicy dishes, and some of Jethro's blue-icing chocolate cake.

After a bottle and some diaper action, the newly Christian Jethro Iñigo promptly fell asleep.

More pictures here.

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Taxi Baby

We were going to the pedia for his scheduled vaccines.

In the taxi, Jethro was constantly turning this way and that, trying to see out all of the windows at once.  He was having a fun time, grinning and chortling like crazy.

He had two shots, one on each thigh, poor baby.  On the way back home he slept on my shoulder.

Son = Somnambulant

Jeremy is a sleep-talker. And also, a sleepwalker. I remember being woken up from a sound sleep by a sudden noise—I saw Jeremy standing up in bed and walking! I took hold of his arm and led him gently back down to the bed. He lay down quietly and curled up on his side, snoring softly. He didn’t even wake up.

At times like these you just will your heart to stop hammering and try to go back to sleep.

Sometimes it could also be amusing. After a long day of shooting ball into a laundry basket, Jeremy went to sleep earlier than usual. I was in bed, waiting to fall asleep.

Just as I was nodding off, he suddenly raises his arms over his head and says very clearly, “Shoot. Ball.” Then his arms fall back and he goes on sleeping.  I smothered my giggles into the pillow.  Beat that.
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Lean Mean Eating Machine

This is the aftermath of a Jethro meal.

Lately he's been happily enjoying a variety of tastes.

New pick: Fish, vegetables and rice. Verdict: Yucky, but he still chows it down.

So-so Eats: Mixed veggies, Cauliflower & Creamed Potato. Verdict: There are leftovers. 

All-time Favorite: Banana and wheat/rice cereal. Verdict: Empty bowl.

Jethro loves messing with his food, mealtime is always a fun event.  Fingers get all sticky with yellow goo, smears and gobs of it on face, knees, bib, shirt, stroller, and of course, me.

And when Mama is a little slow with the next spoonful, watch out—Jethro will chew on his foot!
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Food Hits, Food Misses

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We’ve been trying to introduce Jethro to a variety of food tastes and textures. So far, the hits are banana, rice, wheat, and mixed vegetables. He especially loves the sweet, fragrant mix of banana cereal and milk!

The other menu choices were not so well-received though.  We tried feeding him Gerber green beans and the chicken and veggies dinner. As you can see in these series of photos, this is what he thinks of the work of the chefs at Gerber.

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Shiny Happy Baby

The grin that’s worth a thousand words.

This is Jethro at around 6AM, happy as a hamster, grinning at the sound of my voice. What a great sight to wake up to, huh?

This kid seems to be a morning person; he loves to start the day frolicking. You can see his crib literally shaking as though there was a herd of elephants in there. Sometimes I would keep quiet, not let on that I was also awake, just to see what he would do. What a ruckus! I peep in and there he is, rolling back and forth, kicking at the covers, throwing pillows this way and that. At 6 in the morning.

When at last he sees me, he lets out a gurgle or a tiny shriek, so pleased he is that I’m there to pick him up for his morning neck nuzzle. Ah, what a warm, cuddly, fragrant bundle of baby this is! Yum yum yum.

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Tooth Guy

I remember Jeremy teething, suffering through that painful spurting of the first set of enamels through gums. He lost his appetite for solids and took to his bottle like an infant. He would slobber what seemed like copious amounts of drool, and get very very cranky. Sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night and cry from the itchy pain. What an aggravation. How I wished I could take the pain away.

But, in the same vein, I remember how cute he looked with just his two lower front teeth in an impish grin. Very goofy.

It always seemed to me that he couldn’t stop grinning.

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The New Chewable

Here’s a new favorite toy for a drooling, soon to be teething baby: a strange hybrid of lizard, alligator, and wacky salamander.

It’s soft and chewy, with a rattle filled with colorful beads on one end, a thin yellow tongue on the other. Plus, it squeaks in the middle. Jethro loves it so, he can play for minutes on end with it, sometimes content to just stare at the bright colors. More often than not though, he likes to bite or chomp down on it, or best of all, drown it in drool.

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Milk Dreaming

Proof that Jethro has appetite to burn:  sleep feeding!

I love how he would finish the last bit of milk from his 4-ounce bottle, and sometimes ask for more. Or how he would put off sleeping until he’s done with feeding.

Just this weekend, I bought two new 8-oz. bottles for him, since the little bottles are fast becoming obsolete. Jethro barely got through the 6-oz. feeds before we transitioned him to 8-oz. batches. Less feeds to make, and he finishes them in no time at all.

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In Long Pants

My, don't they grow up so fast!

I have been putting off that rite of passage of dressing Jeremy in long pants for quite some time now. I wanted him to remain a baby at least, clothes-wise. Ah, but in life, the inevitable has a way of asserting itself. His Lola May sent us another one of her packages, and among the lot was a pair of khakis with Jeremy's name on it.

It was a perfect fit. So here he is at last, in long pants. But I needn't have fretted, he's still a baby after all—that bottle is a dead giveaway.

Lookit That Smile!

Click on Mickey to see an even bigger pic.

Look at that smile. Jeremy, at age two, is quite the charmer. He doesn’t know it yet, but being cute goes a long way towards getting what you want.

One time while I was trying to get him to take a nap, he kept distracting me with smiles and all sorts of mischief. He would half-close his eyes and pretend to be asleep, then when I would look at him in the face he would burst out laughing. Before I knew it, two hours have gone by and all we did was horse around, nap time forgotten.

There was that time also when we were all at our wit’s end telling him to keep off the refrigerator. He was constantly opening it and pretending to be choosing something to take out. After about fifty thousand instances of chasing after him to the kitchen, I was exhausted. I plopped down on a chair and was soon absorbed in watching TV.

For a full five minutes there was silence, then I heard a soft chuckle behind me. I turned to see a grinning Jeremy, eyes twinkling. Grasped tightly in both hands was the bottle of wine we were chilling for New Year’s. He was so proud of himself, pleased that he was able to lug that bottle from the kitchen fridge, down two steps of stairs, and into the living room where I was sitting. It’s a good thing that I do not startle easily.

How can you scold such a charming mug?  I tell you this boy has a killer smile.

 

Just Say No

You know you’ve been doing too much rule reinforcing with your kid when he turns around and flings the rule back at you.

One night, exhausted and just about ready to climb into bed, I was rushing to get Jeremy to settle down and prepare to go to sleep. As usual he was all over the room, opening closets, fiddling with doorknobs, rearranging things.

I was telling him “Jeremy, no no no no no” and wagging my finger to indicate that no, he is absolutely not to touch the electric fan.

I may have been saying no a few times too many that night since all of a sudden, Jeremy turns around and in a perfect, dead-pan imitation of me, wags his finger and says, “Mama, no no no no no.”

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Boy In The Bath

Bath time for baby Jethro is a happy experience. It’s always a let’s grab the faucet, kick everything in sight, and drench everyone while we’re at it, event.

I used to bathe him in a tiny little basin when he was just days old. Into the third or fourth week though, he was crowding the basin, spilling water rather than getting clean.

We tried to break him into using Jeremy’s blue plastic bathtub, but no, it was too much trouble to do so. Jethro kept wiggling and kicking, and the tub was pushed around in so many directions it made me dizzy.

So now we soak Jethro in the sink! There he is, happy to be drenched in cool water and be rid of baby grime. Afterwards, he is bundled snugly in his towel (oooh) and kissed to distraction (yummy baby smell!). I especially love the warm, sweet scent of the folds of his chubby, chubby neck. 

 

Into The Bathrobe!

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Well, I guess I've lost out on The Great Bathrobe Race.

I've long wanted to get Jeremy into a bathrobe, just because those things look so well, hmm... cute. And here he is now! Lola Nanay got him into this blue terry cloth and Lolo Tatay took the picture.  This was after his evening bath, that's why he looks so guapo, very fresh and yummy-smelling. Even in bare feet.

Doesn't he look proud of himself? Or does that smile means he's plotting some new mischief?

Oh, I so miss this boy.

Boy In The Tent

We went to Jet and Checcs' beach house, a punong that spilled out to a lovely black sand beach. This was the first time my friends ever saw Jeremy. They were crowding around him, calling his name, trying to squeeze in a hug. My friends' kids were there, about 6 or seven of them, varying in ages. Of course the little guy was overwhelmed.

Outside, there was a tent setup under a tree for the kids to play in. All sorts of toys were scattered around inside—robots, basketballs, plastic shapes. Jeremy loved this tent, and stayed there most part of the day, sitting cross-legged on the mat, squinting in the bright sunshine. He didn’t care that it was hot, or that the floor of the tent was gritty with sand. He was having fun!

I remember, the only adult he liked and would go to for a pick-me-up hug was his Tito Jet, a giant of a guy whom they tell me, children are usually afraid of.

I remember we went home pleasantly tired from the quick swim, the talking, the laughing, and the board games. Jeremy had a nice tan.

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Beach Boy

Having grown up in the city, Jeremy doesn't quite know how to deal with sand. He thinks that like all manner of ground soil, sand is dirty.

And so when we were invited to a friend's house on the beach, I had a hard time getting him to step on the sand. All day long I had to carry him. He will not go down and run along the shore, no way. And neither would he go into the water unless I carry him in.

So there I was, a few months pregnant and with a real live boy wiggling in my arms, trying to get some sun. We did manage to put on some sunscreen, though.

Slurp, Sputter, Slobber

Just last week I tried breaking in the little guy to some solid grub. I know, I know, all the pedia sites recommend solid food feeding only on the 6^th month. But for a while now, Jethro has been showing signs of solid food readiness:

One, he’s able to sit up and hold his head (that is, when he’s not mesmerized by his feet, in which case he nods too far forward and topples over).

Two, he avidly watches us eat and his eyes go a-twinkle when he sees big-people food. One time, I swear I saw him smack his lips.

Three, he’s losing that “extrusion reflex,” the forward thrusting of the tongue that pushes out food.

Four, he still seems hungry even after a 6-ounce feed. And he’s not shy about showing it; he’ll holler his head off.

So I decided it’s time for solids. The first time I gave Jethro that yummy spoonful of cereal, his eyes lit up, and his face registered an expression of wonderment. And from that time on, there was no turning back.

This morning, as he was happily slurping down the chow, I must have been slow in serving up the next spoonful, because the next thing I knew, he was making angry, demanding noises. I speeded it up, and in no time at all, the bowl was empty. But still Jethro wouldn’t quiet down, he was yelling, waving his arms, knitting his brows together. Puzzled, I offered him his bottle, and upon seeing it, he yelled even louder. Could it be that he’s still hungry?!

Ah yes, he still wants a bottle even after that bowlful of cereal. So bottle it is, and Jethro settled down to his formula feed. And what d'ya know, he finished the entire bottle—all four ounces of it—in one sitting (what an appetite this kid has!).  Then and only then did he start smiling and cooing.

Full tummy = happy baby.  Scary.

Do The Chew

Baby Jethro could be starting to feel the itch of teeth getting ready to break out of his gums. These past few days he’s been putting things within grab reach into his mouth and chewing on them, drool spilling in long sticky threads.

In the pictures he’s got a locked grip on his current favorite chewable, an orange-and-yellow frog rattle (part of a Christmas gift set from Jet & Checcs). Look at that expression of intense concentration—the furrowed brows, the twinkle in the eye.

Yum, yum, yum, plastic frog! What a happy baby!

Hand Me Down Habit

I’m more than glad to notice that finally, Jeremy seems to be outgrowing the habit of soothing himself using a strand of hair. This hairy habit began with his blanket, the gauzy white sheet that doubled as a wipe and a blanket when he was a baby. He would tug at a corner of the blanket to pull out a stray thread and trail this thread on his cheek to soothe himself, and then drift off to sleep.

Then one day he must have discovered a hair strand and thought, “Aha, this works much better.”

Instant gratification, what can I say. I know, I know, stray hair is unhygienic, but let me see anyone try and explain that to a toddler.

Lately though, Jeremy is gradually letting go of the hair habit, as he’s discovered there are other, more interesting things to do in the great big world. And, as he’s learning to express himself better, he’s also maturing emotionally, so the coping mechanisms are becoming less of a necessity.

Just last month, while I was trying to calm a sleepy, and thus fussy Jethro, I observed Jeremy looking on with a thoughtful expression. Jethro was making short, tiny sobs, his lower lip trembling in a damp pout.

Jeremy steps closer to us, and placing his hand on baby Jethro’s head says reassuringly, “Touch, peekap.” (‘peekap’ is Jeremyspeak for ‘hikap,’ which is Ilonggo for ‘touch’).

He then turns and carefully puts something in the baby’s grasping hand. I look to see what it was.

Clutched in Jethro’s fat fingers, there it was—a strand of hair.

Rollover, Reverse

At four months, Jethro has rolled over, back-to-tummy, grinning with happiness over his new accomplishment. This means no more leaving him on the bed while he’s flat on his back.  He can do the belly flip in two seconds flat, and you better be on the standby in case he rolls all the way to the edge and horrors—to the floor! I always tell yaya it would be better to put him on the mat on the floor in case she absolutely needs to turn her back on him. That way he won’t be in any danger of falling.

Yesterday, Jethro turned 5 months old, and just this morning, as we were playing in bed, he rolled over, this time from tummy-to-back!  Holy reversible baby, Batman!

Boy Under The Christmas Tree

These are my favorite Christmas photos of Jeremy.

The first one was taken Christmas morning. He was dressed for church, but went straight under the tree to get to the gifts. I remember, he thought the prettily wrapped packages were the gifts themselves. He didn’t know you were supposed to open them. Imagine his delight when he saw what was inside the boxes.

We opened the gifts on Christmas Eve, I think. The photo far right was taken that night, Jeremy in his red and green onesies, the floor strewn with wrappers, toys scattered all around.

Of course, he's the one who got the most gifts.
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