A Breath of Fresh, Summery Air

This has been our first full week of "summer break" and it is going so beautifully that I'm tempted to pull Luke out of preschool next year. (I mean...not really...but yeah, kind of.) On the last day of school, his teacher told me that during the four-and-a-half months that he was at preschool, she never had to discipline him in any way or even ask him twice to do something...he was that compliant. And so, of course, he saved up all his non-compliance for me and I had many, many days when I wondered whether I was raising the anti-christ. (Again, not really...but yeah, kind of.)

Since he's been out of school, he has been helpful and cooperative, instead of running around wildly, throwing tantrums about every seemingly minor bump in the road. Part of it, I think, is that he was just tired during the school year. Even on non-school days, he got into the habit of waking up early, but we are awful, awful, AWFUL at maintaining an early bedtime. McMoose gets home pretty close to 7:00 pm and it just seems cruel to make the kids go to bed 30 minutes later. So this week, we've been living it up, sleeping until 8 or (gasp!) 9 in the morning and taking as much time as we need to get ready.

There's more kindness toward Weston, more kindness and cooperation toward me, and since I'm not rushing to try to get somewhere on time, there's more understanding flowing from me toward them, too. This morning, Luke asked me to read to him and I said I would as soon as I started some clothes in the washing machine and just as I was bracing myself for the shrieking of But-I-Want-To-Read-RIGHT-NOW, he said, "Ok, Mama. It'll be much easier if I help you." And he brought his hamper out and helped me put in the clothes and then put his hamper back in his closet as I stood there in wide-mouthed amazement.

Thank goodness for summer break!

Strawberry Patch

We recently went strawberry picking and when I first told Luke that we were going, his response was, "Mama, did you know there are strawberries at the store and we could just buy them?" It wasn't until I mentioned that the strawberry patch had an ice cream store that he warmed up to the idea. Of course, once we were there, he decided that strawberry picking was the most fun thing ever, so it all worked out.

They were both so excited to see the rows and rows of strawberry plants and to get their own buckets. Luke did a good job of picking the reddest berries and Weston...well, he'll learn. Notice how wet they look? The only time it rained all afternoon was during the 15 minutes when we were picking the berries. They did not care one little bit.

 

They have a barrel train that has all the barrels painted like cows. Weston was obsessed with it from the minute he first saw it, so I tracked down the driver and paid for a ride. And about 30 seconds after climbing in, Weston decided that he wanted to get right back out. Of course, it was too late for that and just as I was thinking about getting him out, the tractor started up and off they went. He spent the first couple of minutes crying and the next 15 or 20 minutes sitting sullenly. This was, hands down, the longest kiddie ride I have ever put my children on. I had no idea it would go for that long. Furthermore, there was one point when they disappeared into a grove of trees and I began to seriously wonder what I had gotten them into. Apparently, it was just a very slow day, ride-wise, and the driver was enjoying the ride.

 

Eating the aforementioned bribe...er, I mean, ice cream. This was Luke's first attempt at a cone and it was very well-received. Weston is eating a cupcake because I thought it would have less dairy in it...clearly, I didn't realize that it had a good five inches of icing sitting on top. He is eating that cupcake at warp speed because one of the farm dogs had taken a special interest in us and was sitting there, hoping very hard that we might drop our food.

 

 

These people definitely know how to pull kids (and therefore, their parents) in.

They had these enormous tubes, which were fun until someone bigger got into one and rolled over Weston. (Luke, who predicted that precise outcome, stood there nodding his head, saying, "Do you see, Mama? Those are not a good idea.") 

Odds...Ends...

Here's a little bit of what we've been doing recently...

-We went to the library book sale, where they had the most enthusiastic face painter I have ever encountered. Most face painters take a couple of minutes, draw on a shape that kind of resembles what the kid requested, and call it a day, but this guy? Oh, he was an artist. Witness:

-My mom and stepdad gave Luke an enormous cardboard train engine for his birthday. It's the kind that doubles as an art canvas and play space. Of course, they loved it. And of COURSE, they tore it up within a week. It is now lying in pieces in the playroom and I am keeping it until every last surface has been drawn on, painted on, sticker-ed on, etc.

-In the process of painting on the cardboard train, Luke decided it would be fun to paint himself, too. And ever the helpful big brother, he was happy to paint Weston as well.

Snake!

Apparently, it's been a while since I've posted pictures. Time to remedy that, yes? Let's start with this one. This is our serpentine friend, whose presence I discovered a few weeks ago by nearly stepping on...her? Him? It. Turns out it's a Mole Kingsnake, which are helpful to have around, so we're co-existing.

Perfecting My Eye Roll

Dear Obnoxious Mom at the Playground,

Yes, I know my kid is splashing in the mud puddle. His clothes can be washed and so can he. No, I don't care about whether the mud gets in my car.

Yes, I know that my other kid is playing with mulch. It's mulch. It's not hurting anyone, it's not stopping anyone else from enjoying the playground, and he will clean it up before we leave.

No, I'm not going to insist on inside voices right now. In case you hadn't noticed, we are outside.

You can stop giving me those snarky looks and making passive aggressive comments to your kid about how you're sure that those boys' mother will "talk to them about their behavior." Their "behavior" is called playing. They're supposed to do that.



P.S. - I can't seem to make it through a single outing this week without being given some kind of "helpful advice" about parenting. 

School's Out For the Summer!

Today was Luke's last day of preschool for this year, so the kids put on a performance for the parents. It was so nice to see the kids singing and dancing and twirling and being their crazy, adorable selves. Luke, being Luke, didn't exactly dance...he marched across the stage, carefully placing his feet on the marks, and turned slowly in a circle instead of doing a wild twirl. It was so funny to see how even though the moves were choreographed, their individual personalities still shone through, bright and clear.

I haven't been privy to as much of the "insider" stuff at school as I would have liked to because (a) we started in the middle of the school year, so we missed all the orientation type stuff at the beginning, and (b) I haven't been able to volunteer in the classroom because I haven't had anywhere to leave Weston. But something about this place has appealed to me from the first time I saw their website--it just exudes such a sense of joy and charm and respect for children as people instead of empty vessels waiting to be filled. We weren't even planning to put Luke in preschool this past year, but decided to do it because of how much we loved this place.

What I have seen is how kindly they greet the children in the mornings, how the "greeting teachers" always make an attempt to talk to and connect with every child and parent as they walk through the door. I witnessed how one morning, a little girl's dad left while she was distracted with something else and she was upset when she realized it--and instead of brushing it off and moving her on to the next thing, the preschool director sat with her and empathized and problem-solved and in the end, it was as simple as making a quick phone call to Dad so she could say, "Good-bye, I love you!" It gives me peace of mind to know that if Luke were upset, they'd take similar care in figuring out how to help him solve the problem.

Today, during the performance, one of the children was feeling shy and instead of forcing her out to the stage by herself or leaving her out of the show entirely, a teacher carried her out to stage and held her close and danced with her as she buried her face in her teacher's shoulder. And a minute later, she looked up...and another minute later, she asked to get down and hold the teacher's hand while dancing...and another minute later, she let go of the teacher's hand and danced on her own. No tears, no fuss.

I am so grateful that Luke's introduction to school has been here, where they spend their mornings dancing and making music and doing drama and art. It has been the perfect environment for my rather serious little one.

Making Plans

In the car this morning...

Luke: Hey, I can't put my feet up on the seat anymore!
Me: Yes, I had to scoot the seat forward so that my feet could reach the pedals.
Luke: But it was scooted back before.
Me: Because Dada was the last one to drive the car and his legs are longer than mine.
Luke: His arms are really long, too.
Me: Yep, he's a pretty big guy, huh? When you grow up, do you think you'll be as big as him or as big as me?
Luke: Hm. Well, all "he's" grow up to be as big as their Dadas. So that means I'll be as big as my Dada. Hey, Weston, you'll be as big as Dada, too!
Weston: *Babbles incoherently*
Luke: He said, "Oh, how funny!" But he said it in a rather funny, little voice, didn't he!


Luke only has one day of preschool left before summer break, so we were talking about all the things we'd like to do this summer. We ended up with a pretty long list, but among my favorites are the following: spend lots of days at home, visit with ourselves every day, plant things in the garden, and eat lots of carrots!

Sweet-talkin'

At some point last night, McMoose pointed out that Weston is saying some adorable things and that if this had been Luke, we would have written all the adorable things in his baby book, but since he's the second kid, he doesn't even HAVE a baby book, so perhaps we should record it somewhere. And "somewhere," obviously means "on the blog," so here we go...

-He calls me "Mama Mia" and he calls Luke "Yuke bear." He calls himself "Stein." He calls McMoose "Daddy," which is a marked change from the "Dada" that has always been used around here. In fact, about half the time, he calls him "Daddy Dada."

-His favorite question is "Where are you?" He likes to say it loudly and repeatedly, so he walks around while McMoose is at work, saying, "Dada, where arrrrre you? Daddy, where ARRRRRRRRE you?"

-He corrects us by saying "actually," which is so cute that we say all manner of incorrect things, hoping to be corrected. The other day, I said, "Hi, Weston!" and he responded with, "Not Stein. Giraffe, actually."

-He is obsessed with drinking my tea, so anytime he sees me with a cup, he heads right over and starts up with, "Mama tea? Drink Mama tea? Stein drink Mama Mia tea, peas?"

-For that matter, he says "peas" with most of his requests and it makes me want to give him all things.

-His favorite response to questions is "o'there." Where are your shoes? O'there. Where did you put Mama's keys? O'there. Have you seen any giraffes around? O'there. (Hm. We maybe talk about giraffes more than strictly necessary around here.)

-He knows "one" and "two." So anything more than one is two. The other day, he saw a flock of at least 8 geese and squealed with delight, "Two goose! One, twooooo!" (I think he learned three today? Can't call that one for sure, but I thought I heard a one, two, dee while I was clipping his nails.)

-He thinks he knows his colors. What he actually knows is the title of one of their books, which is "Red, Green, Blue." So when people ask him anything about colors, he replies with, "Ed, geen, boo."

A conversation from last night, when I was trying to tuck him in:
Weston: Stein sleep big bed.
Me: Ok, you can sleep in the big bed.
Weston, pointing beside him: Mama Mia sleep o'there.
Me: I will later. Right now, I'm going out to the hallway. (Aside: My laptop has no battery, so it needs to stay plugged in and it is currently plugged into an outlet on our upstairs landing, which has made that landing The Place To Be, as far as I'm concerned.)
Weston, gathering his pillow and blanket: Stein sit hallway too.
Me: No, you stay here. Go night-night.
Weston: Mama Mia sit hallway. Dada sit hallway, too. Stein sit hallway, too. Peas?

Riding the Rails

Back in September, I had a wonderful idea: what better way to celebrate a fourth birthday than to ride on a train and go camping! So a-camping we did go. Except...we went to the mountains. In early May. To live in a tent for three days. In other words: hello, cold, non-stop rain. By the time we decided to leave (a day earlier than we had planned,) our tent was in this squelchy, muddy pit.

Luckily, it wasn't a total loss because the kids loved the train. (Actually, the kids loved the rain, too.) Luke spent most of the three-and-a-half hour ride like this:  

 

Modeling his souvenirs: a conductor hat and a cup. I love how the hat pushes out his ears. 

 

This is the face Weston makes when given a chocolate muffin. Who knew!

 

 I apologize for the poor quality of the pictures, but...moving train and all. Unfortunately, we didn't even get any camping pictures because we were too busy trying not to freeze to death. Lesson learned: If you decide to go camping in the mountains when it is cold and rainy, at least make sure your kids are old enough to stay IN their sleeping bags at night instead of rolling all around the cold tent floor and then putting their frozen little hands on you in an attempt to get warm again. (Any guesses on which one did that?)

Fantastic Four!

Luke turned four today and he is very proud of that fact. He has been telling everyone who will listen that he is four now--not three, not three-and-a-half, but FOUR! We've been counting on the calendar to this day and he was beside himself all day.

The past year has been challenging as he has experimented with becoming his own person with his own ideas and agenda, but we have also had such joy. Right now, he starts every sentence with, "Guess what," or "Do you know what?" A year ago, he'd accept my explanations for things, but now, he volunteers his own theories. This can be trying to my fact-oriented soul, but I remind myself that he's exercising his brain with every kooky hypothesis he puts forward. It exercises my brain to listen without criticizing--just today, I was informed that at various forms of development, ladybugs resemble cockroaches, caterpillars, and "chrysaliseses."

He is serious and pensive most of the time. At school and in public, he is usually very well-behaved. At home, he is far less accommodating. I sometimes think back to the easy toddler he used to be and wonder what happened, but I try to remember that growing into your very own person is tough stuff. He is growing slowly more empathetic and more able to navigate social situations. He is still easily frustrated when things don't go how he thinks they should, but is ever so gradually learning to try again. He likes to practice his skills of persistence by asking me the same question two-hundred-and-fifty-nine times, in the hope of getting the answer he wants.

He likes to read and go to the park and play with his friends. He is obsessed with dinosaurs and animals (particularly of the reptilian variety) and superheroes. He is oddly fascinated with worksheets (?!) and asks to do them frequently. He likes school and from what I hear from his teachers, he's polite and kind to his classmates. When I drop him off, however, he is very quiet, so I wonder how much of the "polite and kind" is actually just that he's timid in the school environment. He joins into group play with other children more often since starting school, but seems more reluctant to talk to unfamiliar adults. He and his brother have a very typical sibling relationship--playing happily one minute, fighting the next. He is slowly learning to use his words rather than his strength with Weston. Their relationship got more difficult once Weston started walking--and by extension, inserting himself into Luke's games, taking his toys, climbing over him, hitting him, etc. However, they also have long stretches of being able to play together without needing me right there to intervene.

I think he has lost a lot of baby-ness this past year and we're fully within the realm of childhood now. I find myself wondering quite frequently what he'll be like in twenty years and what he'll remember from this time of his life. I'm sure he'll remember that many times, his parents were not as kind or patient as they should have been. I'm sure he'll remember the times he felt slighted and misunderstood. Don't we all remember those moments the best? But I also hope he remembers the wonder of waking up on his fourth birthday and finding his room filled with fifty balloons:

 

I hope he remembers the unhurried feeling of wandering through the neighborhood, holding ladybugs and studying frogs, examining acorn shells and trying to determine whether they really were acorn shells or whether they might have belonged to very small turtles instead. I hope he remembers to keep asking questions, even if others think they aren't worth asking.

 

I hope he remembers the joy that came with opening a few small presents--a couple of little airplanes, a couple of books, a scooter--and finding that someone remembered all the things that he had wanted, but forgotten about. 

 

 

I hope he remembers that at one point, he had an entire day of doing exactly what he wanted. And on that day, what he wanted was to eat cereal with NO milk, look at his birthday cards and talk about the people who sent them, get a birthday cake pop at Starbucks and only share a little tiny bit with his brother, take a walk around the neighborhood, play games, read books, and see his best friend. I hope that he always finds the joy in such simple things.