First Haircut

We have successfully completed our first haircut without incident, unless you consider Max flirting with everyone in the salon as an incident.

I picked him up from his school on Thursday and took him to see Anjie, our hairdresser and long time family friend, at Jessie James Hair Studio. I was prepared for a meltdown since we've had such trouble with anything to do with water lately, but it couldn't have gone any better. Max behaved like a perfect gentleman.

Anjie had a little case to use as a booster, a cape with penguins on it, and some shiny hair clips for Max to play with while she worked. A few snips here and a little buzzing there (which kind of tickled Max's neck) and Max had a new 'do!

He was smiling from ear to ear as all the ladies in the shop admired him. And I'm pretty sure I was smiling from ear to ear with the relief that only a mother can have as her baby boy achieves yet another milestone.

Max and Gigi

When my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer a couple of months ago we were all very concerned. Cancer is very scary no matter what form it comes in. The whole family has held their collective breath as we waited for details of the treatment and prognosis. As a son, I have tried to be strong and supportive. I feel it is important for me to be upbeat and positive when I talk to my Mom. I admit, however, that I did break down at least once or twice when we first heard the news.

One of the drawbacks to a family member having cancer is the illness becomes the elephant in the room. We all know, but it becomes difficult to talk about it. No one wants to broach the subject for fear of facing the possibilities. It has become even more difficult as my Mom began suffering the side effects of chemotherapy. It was quite shocking for me to walk into the room and see her when she began losing her hair. (Although not as shocking as the first time I remember “catching” her coloring her hair. I had come inside for a drink of Kool-aid and there stood Medusa in front of the kitchen sink, strands of hair sticking out of her plastic coloring cap.)

A bright spot during the last several weeks has been Max. He really loves his Gigi and is too young to understand what is happening. He loves her unconditionally and just beams when she is around. He didn’t seem to notice when Mom began losing her hair. If he did notice, he didn’t care. He has taken a shine to her colorful hat collection, though. As with all hats (and glasses) he will snatch them off of your head and attempt to put them on.

The first time he did this to Gigi I gasped wondering what my mother’s reaction would be. You see, my Dad has been “follicly challenged” as long as I can remember, but my mother was very new to the concept. As with all things, my mother handled the event with grace and class. She went along as if nothing had happened.

Mom has been amazing through every step of her treatment so far. With three chemo sessions down and one more to go before surgery and radiation, we are all in awe of her strength and courage.

Many times I have thanked God for this gift I call Max. His happy disposition and childhood innocence will often put things into perspective for me. I believe that the Lord uses my son to help our family focus on what is important. We are thankful for what we have and just enjoy being together. We should all be content with the little things like sitting on your grandmother’s lap and reading a book.

What do you mean you don't want to take a bath?

At some point during the last month Max has decided he hates taking a bath. This is very troubling to Shannon and I because up until now he has loved playing in the bathtub. He cries at the mere suggestion of a bath. The sound of running water sends him into a panic.

The other night I just said “bath time” and he replied with a pitiful “no”. Then he started waving his arms in front of him like a sailor on an aircraft carrier trying to flag down a plane. It was pretty clear how he felt about the whole idea of getting cleaned up. I probably would have let it go if he hadn't had dried snot on his upper lip and dried sweet potatoes on his chin and neck.

Gone are the days when Max would splash in the tub and play with his toys until the water was cold. He sobs from the time you get him undressed until he has been slathered with lotion and is in his footie jammies. It makes us feel awful.

I don’t know what triggered this aversion to water and we are at a loss as to what to do. We have tried a different bathtub. We tried a shower instead of a bath. We have tried just sponging him off in the sink. We have even tried getting in the tub with him. (Granny Alice even put on her bathing suit and got in with him in an effort to convince him it was just swimming.)

Nothing works. He just cries the whole time.

The real problem (besides feeling terrible that my son is wailing) is that he is mobile and active during his every waking moment now. He is working on feeding himself with a spoon and enjoys playing outside. Both of these new activities are causing him to be dirtier than ever. Now that he actually needs a bath, he doesn’t want to take one.

We will have to find a way to work through it because I don’t want to be the father of the “smelly” kid.

Getting Home

My baby boy is growing up fast. It seems like just yesterday he was taking his first steps. Now he is toddling around the house like a pro. The best thing about him being mobile is when I get home form work at night.

Our driveway curves around in front of our house. There is a big window in the library that looks out onto the driveway. Max spends a lot of his time in the library “reading” books and playing with toys. Most evenings when I pull into the driveway, I can see him through that big window. He is usually busy pulling books off the shelf and “stacking” them on the floor. As I slow down to pull in to the garage, I can see the big smile on his face when he notices my car. I watch as he points a chubby little finger in my direction and I can see him mouth the words “Da Da”.

By the time I park the car and make my way through the garage door into the back hallway, I can hear him squeal and see him waddle around the corner as fast as his little legs will carry him. He looks like a little version of Frankenstein as he ambles down the wood floor, arms outstretched in front of him.

“Hello Baby Boy!” I say, as I scoop him up in my arms. He giggles while he squirms to get down. When I let him down, he takes off in the direction of the living room rug. He is making a mad effort to get away and wants me to chase him. (chuckling the whole time) The ultimate goal is to get to the soft, comfort of the area rug so we can “wrestle”.

When I get to the living room, I flop down on the floor so he can jump on me. As he crashes down on my back I shout “oh, you got me”. He just laughs.

I have forgotten about the stresses of the day. The only thing that matters at that moment is me and my boy. What could be better?

There!

Max is growing fast and his personality has started to really blossom. He walks everywhere and jabbers the whole time. His vocabulary increases every day. One thing that makes me chuckle is his use of the word “there”. Out of the blue he started using the expression to mark his accomplishments.

The most common example is when he is struggling to move something heavy. For instance, he will grunt and groan trying to lift the lid off of one of our ottomans. All at once the lid will come free and fall away from the base. Max exclaims, “there!” to let us know he has succeeded.

It is not always limited to heavy things. If he puts a book on the shelf or removes the lid from a piece of Tupperware he will say “there” as if everything is now right with the world.

Like the period on the end of a sentence, the word “there” also marks the end of his task. Then it’s on to another important mission…

Sunday with Max

The day started out like any other day with Max...very early.

We had breakfast with our friends Nathalie, Jeff, Ian and Audrey at the Blue Plate restaurant in downtown Chattanooga at around nine o'clock this morning. It was very nice to see them. Max was excited to see his little friend Ian. (It didn't hurt that Ian had filled up the pockets of his jacket and cargo pants with matchbox cars and tractors.)

After breakfast we took Max for his first trip to the drive through car wash. It was all smiles while the machine squirted, scrubbed, slapped and swished daddy's car. (Until we got out, that is. Then daddy noticed he had paid $10 to have dirt just smeared around. He wasn't smiling anymore.)

In the afternoon we all got bundled up and went outside for a walk and to play on our swing set. Max had a great time swinging in the "toddler bucket" with Dad along side him. Then Dad put him up in the fort so he could stand like a big boy. It didn't take long for Max to see the big green slide. He marched right over to the top of it, threw one leg over, turned around backwards and then slid unassisted down the slippery, plastic tube. He doesn't seem to be afraid of anything. I hope he grows out of that because he sure makes me nervous.

He cleans up good.

I would say that Max is most comfortable in jammies or comfy clothes.

This is straight out of the JC Penney catalog.