Tough transitions

Family and old friends know this, of course, but Tom used to have long hair. In fact, he has a ponytail in our wedding picture. It was only after we moved to San Diego and he was looking for a new job that he cut it, on the theory that a preppier 'do would make him look like a more desirable candidate. (Eventually it worked.)

When we went back to Baltimore for a visit, most of Tom's old friends assumed that he had cut his hair at my behest. This was not the case. Obviously, I liked him with long hair enough to marry him. But the main reason I never asked him to cut it is that I knew, if he didn't like it, the transition back to long hair from short would be an awkward one. Such transitions always are.

We are currently in an awkward transition period with Jack, this one involving naps. I suspect he is not quite ready to give them up entirely, but he vehemently and often violently disagrees.

We had an extraordinarily busy weekend. Yesterday, we went to a fun and frantic Valentine's Day party with some fabulous friends. A lot of the other mamas marveled how tuckered out their kiddos were and how well they napped. Not mine. Didn't nap a wink. We put him to bed early, and he had a couple of night terrors as he always does on no-nap days, a result of being overtired and overstimulated.

Today, we went to church. After the service, Jack thought it would be fun to emulate the big kids and play in the wet sand in the church playground. After he completely covered his pants in mud, we headed downtown to check out the Children's Museum for the first time.

Every second Sunday of the month is free at the Children's Museum. I'm sure glad we didn't pay the $10 per person admission fee. While the museum itself had some fun exhibits, Jack's favorite thing by far was riding the elevator. And instead of blowing bubbles at the bubble exhibit, he just kept washing his hands in two vats of soap, back and forth, back and forth, like a mini Pontius Pilate with OCD. I knew it wouldn't be long before most of that soap made its way into his hair and down the front of his clothes (although not, of course, enough to wash out the mud from earlier in the day). Sure enough, he was a soaking, soapy mess as we left the museum. We didn't even bother checking out the Chinese New Year festival as originally planned.

Jack fell asleep in the car about two minutes before we made it home, but he protested loud and long when we tried to transfer him inside for the rest of his nap. Bedtime was even earlier tonight in the hopes of forestalling more night terrors. So far, so good (KNOCK WOOD).

Another tough transition? Potty training. But today Jack went poop on the potty for the very first time. He was so proud of himself, and of course we were proud of him too. I don't expect a repeat performance of this feat any time soon, but still it was a banner day in Jack-land.

However, lest we start getting wistful that our Jack-Jack is really growing up, he made it clear that he is not ready to leave behind all his infantile behaviors. Right before bed, he crowed to me one more time, "Jack poop on potty!" Then he spit in his hand and wiped my face with it.