23 months going on 6 months

Cael has been protective of his sister. He does not like other people to hold her and will quite adamantly tell them to give her back to his mom, grabbing her foot and patting my chest to illustrate his point. But it’s a different story now that we are bringing out toys for her that he wants to use. He squeezes himself into the bouncy chair and jumps around gleefully with his bum just grazing the floor. We figured out through trial and error (mostly error) that if we offer him a chance to go and then ask if it is okay for Isabel to take a turn, he is much more receptive.

up for air

I have just finished the last book in the Harry Potter series, and I, like my husband, found myself completely immersed in his magical world. I tried to drag it out as long as I could, knowing that when this was finished there would be nothing left to look forward to. But as the tension mounted I could no longer keep Harry at bay. With Isabel drooling on my lap and Cael driving trucks up my arm I read on, trying to ignore my husband shouting from the kitchen, “Have you got to the part when they travel back in time yet?” and “Has Hagrid called the aliens down to help fight yet?”

So now what?

37?

I have been sitting here, staring at the screen with the words ‘the daily hogan 37’ staring back like some kind of challenge. This is my husband’s favorite number, you see, so I can’t let it go by without some sort of tribute to him. When Judd and I first met I was inspired to write more poetry, so I thought I should share a poem from then, but reading back through them I am struck by how cheesy I sound! And now when I sit down to write a poem I can’t think beyond a poopy diaper and little arms encircling my neck. I guess the cheese never really goes away. But since I have the books open and I am in the sharing mood, I will pass along a poem I wrote around that time.


October, 2002

sometimes I imagine my
life as a whole visited
through fragmented memories
stirred to tears by
images collected and
indexed photo albums
stuck to shelves covered
with dust-- and I in a
determined fit of “I
need to organize this
house before I go crazy”
find myself cross legged
in front of the open
closet door pawing through
pages labeled “first steps”
and “San Diego 2004”
group shots family
vacations significant events
school pictures buck
teeth bad perms goofy
grins you caught sleeping
with your mouth open
halloween costumes
animals in hats
all bringing to my
lap the blink of
a moment past
so much behind
each bright color
that day we spent
hours chasing
and the heat you
would not believe
the mosquitoes the
heavy smells hanging
in the air like
sleep-- how proud we
were how we
laughed how she
whined for hours
the look in his eye
as he gently carried
you up the stairs
the look mirrored in
my father’s eyes as
we swung in our
matching plaid flannel
pajamas my fingers
clutching his-- somehow
the same fingers
although the cells have
since replaced themselves
a thousand times over--
that now linger absently
caressing the outline
of my father’s face
young and hopeful sparkling
blue eyes shine through
black and white
and now you--
sending me more
I diligently add to a
new album I’ve
put together just
for her- this new
breath I don’t see
often enough but
when I do I tease
you for your worrying,
spoil your carefully
researched discipline
and blame the onions.

fourth anniversary

Oh, it is such a beautiful day. The sun is shining and there is a warm breeze, and we get to reminisce about our wedding and celebrate our marriage all day. It really seems like forever ago. Haven’t we always been married with children? Who are those people in the photographs (smiling, happy, much more attractive)? And where are Cael and Isabel?

It is the year of the appliance, formerly fruits and flowers. We picked an apple, smelled some flowers, and talked my mother out of buying us a microwave.

summer lament

I have to admit that I feel like I have been waiting all summer for summer to start. Not to say that there haven’t been some hot lazy days. But the fact remains; it is almost the end of August and the grass is still green. I caught myself thinking, as I turned the heat on and watched the rain pour down, “ooo, it is almost fall!” Although I have a tendency to get excited at the prospect of any new season, this time the excitement is bittersweet. Sure, we had a couple barbeques and we swam in the river a handful of times. Yes, we did indeed go camping and take a trip to the lake. But we haven’t really had long stretches of hot summer days. We haven’t felt that level of desperation as we lie in bed naked with the windows open and the fans blasting, trying not to touch a single body part to any other body part. The words ‘languid’ and ‘listless’, ‘swelter’ and ‘sultry’ have not had their proper chance to trickle off the tips of our tongues. Autumn should come as a longed for reprieve, not as the next season on my calendar. But alas, the leaves have started to turn. We are headed into a new season regardless of whether we feel satisfied with the last. I still hold out hope for a late arrival of summer though. September could be the new August. Couldn’t it?

rainy day

The three of us stay in our pajamas all day long. We watch movies, dance to music and build forts out of sheets and furniture.

blues

Cael’s favorite color is blue. He brings me a blue car, “boo,” hordes the blue binkies, separates out all the blue legos, points proudly to his blue pants, “boo.” He giggles and claps his hands when he finds a blue ball, a blue truck, a blue book, a blue pen. He gathers up an armful of blue booty to bring to bed, making a little hidden pile under the covers. In the morning he tracks down every last item from under the bed, in the bed, and across the room, to haul back downstairs again.

captain of his own butt… I mean boat…

it's code

Although he has yet to say the words, Cael now signs ‘I love you’. The real sign (a cross between ‘the devil’ and ‘hang loose’) we thought might be too hard so we made up an easier sign. I touch the tip of my nose with my finger- or reach out to touch his, and he reciprocates. It is pretty darned sweet.

And speaking of speaking... His first two words together; ride bike (sounding like ‘ide ‘ike).

"But Cael, we can't fit three DVDs in the machine at the same time..."

Cael gets up without waking me. I come downstairs to find him trying to get the DVD player to operate or rearranging books in the hallway. I would be happy to get a chance to sleep in a little, but it is a little disorienting to find my son downstairs without me. And Cael is my alarm clock. He gets up between 7 and 7:20 every day- something I have come to rely on. Without him, Isabel and I would sleep until noon. Well, at least 8!

Oo Oo Ooo oOO oOOo Ah AH AHHH

Today we shop for “Curious George” books. Cael makes monkey noises and arm gestures. After just a few short weeks of requests for the impish primate, I am beginning to think that Bandaid may not have been joking when he claimed to be sick of reading these books over and over and over again. And all this time I thought he really liked Curious George, beets and cats.

the hogans unplugged

Cael and I rock out to Rusted Root while Isabel sucks her fingers and practices rolling over. Cael enthusiastically pats his chest and belly with peanut butter and jelly. Isabel cries. Cael- concerned- points at her and makes the sign for ‘crying’. I pick up my daughter and we dance cheek to cheek watching Cael crouch down, jump up, run in circles, and do something with his chin that may be the prelude to the white man’s overbite. Isabel lets out a giggle. I’ve been practicing all my life for dancing goofily and singing the wrong words at the top of my lungs to an appreciative audience.

juxtapositions

Cael and Paige summer '06 and '07.

things you can count on

Isabel has yet to refuse: a boob; a smile; attention from her brother.

Cael is pretty much always up for: a peanutbutter&jellysandwich; a hotdog; a new car; a trip to the barn.

Jen very rarely turns down: an alcoholic beverage; a caffeinated beverage; a visit from a friend; a game of cards.

Judd can hardly resist: a movie; a nap; a game of cards; a post-game discussion regarding said game of cards; a kiss from his wife; a hug from his son; a smile from his daughter.

future member of 'Lambda Lambda Lambda'

Cael sorts through the recycling, picking out all the beer bottles and lining them up on the floor. I know this is their ‘sorting and stacking’ stage, but I wonder if his choice is an indication of things to come.

bragging rights

I am pretty dang proud of this little outfit! Of course Isabel poops all over it the first chance she gets, but what did I expect? I have been knitting instead of reading lately. My dad keeps asking if I have finished the book he recommended. This is my answer;

the last supper

This is the last day with a husband. As usual, by the time he gets ready to leave I have forgotten what I ever did without him. It is nice though- that the time doesn’t fly by. I feel like we really are able to appreciate him when he is here.

Cael’s baby is becoming very useful. I can use her as a proxy for talking about things with Cael. If he is inconsolable about something I can say, “Cael is your baby sad too? Can you give her a hug to make her feel better? Does she feel better now, Cael?” Taking the attention off his problem and onto helping his baby brings him down from his tantrum like a charm! If he doesn’t want to go eat; “Cael, I think your baby is hungry. Let’s go feed her!” And so on… I am sure I could have found this out eons ago in a baby book, but who reads? No one in this house!

Happy Birthday Dad!

the third hogan baby

After stealing baby dolls from every friend we meet, Cael finally has one of his own. He sits with her in his lap, feeds her a bottle, cuddles with her, hugs her and kisses her, and is absolutely distraught if we can’t find her. In the two days since the baby arrived, we have turned the house over twice looking for her while Cael cries, “Baby, Baby!” Don’t these things come with microchip implants and a GPS location system?

ready to travel

After numerous issues with getting passport photos for the kids, Judd decides this is something we should be able to do on our own.

First attempt (notice the diaper background)…

the language of Cael

Cael has made up a sign for “follow me”. He turns to go, reaching around to pat his butt like you would for a dog.

He also has a ‘sneak’. When he wants to go somewhere without us noticing, he walks sideways very slowly, crouched down a little and dragging his foot.

father and daughter, mother and son

Bela Fleck and the Flecktones

Cael runs ahead of me through the crowds, inspiring shocked faces to search frantically for a desperate parent. Then big smiles when they spot me walking a few paces behind, a look of shared appreciation for the momentary magic of a happy toddler.