You, sir, are an attention blackhole. No matter how much we give you, you insist on more, and your cuteness and your ability to make us laugh demands that we provide more. It’s getting a bit exhausting, truth be told. Luckily, you’ve been sleeping through the night this whole year, so I have a new boost of energy every morning for you.
Some of your favorite ways to draw the spotlight to yourself are dancing, singing, and telling jokes. You dance up a storm, and with each step, you remind me of your BobBob, who also loves all things music, and who has a similar style of dance. You’ve even picked up on his tendency to yell, “Ohhhwww” when finishing up a move.
Your songs range from free-style Itsy Bitsy Spider (with great emphasis placed on washing said spider out) and improvised lines and gibberish. Once you’ve finished up a song, you tilt your head to one side and smile, inviting applause.
Your jokes, to be honest, are beyond me, but I know you’re telling them, because they all end, “Funny, Momma!” You hold your hands out, tilt that adorable blonde head of yours, and grin. And that alone, is worth the giggles you always get from me. Daddy cracks often, too, and then we just look at each other and another wave of laughter starts.
You are a fantastic help around the house, cleaning up rooms, picking up toys, and and wiping the floors. One of your favorite ways to help me is to put wet clothes into the dryer. Whenever I walk over the laundry area, you drop what you are doing, shout, “I help!” and run to me. I pile the wet clothes on the drier door, and you push them in.
You talk pretty clearly, use please and thank you almost always without prompting, and are working on new communication all the time. You went through a phase that many toddlers do, with physical aggression (biting, specifically), but now that we’re working on “using words,” you tend to do much better. I’ve also caught you a couple of times before a bite, asked you “Do you really want to do that?” and you immediately calm down, shake your head no, and put your head on my shoulder. Heart-breaking. And I wonder how much of it might be an act.
You have theater in your blood, kid. You love to get laughs, to make my heart stop beating with your dare-devil antics, and you can be so sweet, I need to figure out how best to warn all the girls you’re going to make love-sick.
You bedtime routine is bath, books, milk, and songs… almost always you choose “Swinging on a Star.” At the phrase, “or would you rather be a…” you always insert fish… so I sing that verse multiple times. If you don’t choose that song, next on the line up is “Playmate” which you call “Apple tree.” It took me a very long time to figure out that code. You were patient with me.
You love books and broccoli. You love music and mayhem. Letters and Legos. You are a well-rounded two year old, and I can’t wait to get to know you better.
September 11, 2009 (written a couple of weeks late)
Dear Hayden,
The past year has been gone by too quickly. I miss my little boy who would curl up with me, run to me for kisses on boo-boos, and allow me to fawn all over him. But, as much as I might miss that little boy, I love the young man you’ve become. The one who swears he still does those things with me…. And granted, you are right, sometimes. That night we had a stomach bug in the house, you woke up at 1 am, got most of it out of your system and on the hall floor, and then required me to sleep in your twin bed with you for the rest of the night.
You started kindergarten this fall, and you’ve taken to it much like you take to many other things, with full enthusiasm. There are certainly times you would prefer to not work on your homework (which is few and far between so far - weekends are the worst), and you still generally give the answer of “Nothing” when we ask you what you did today. But when we prod, you tend to come up with something exciting that happened. Generally it has to do with how many times you got to go outside, if you got to go to the library, or if you had Music or Art.
You still go to Tutor Time before and after kindergarten, and your behavior with Gabe each morning warms my heart. He follows you in the door, and that pads behind you to where you hang your bookbag (the *farthest* hook down that hall). If we’re early (which is not very often) we go to Gabe’s room. You put down your breakfast and proceed to give him a goodbye ritual. Hugs, kisses, high fives, calling “Bye, Brother!” as you pick up your breakfast and head across the hall. You are kind and gentle with him each morning, patient and forgiving. (This does generally change by the time dinner rolls around, but he is your little brother, so I understand.)
When I come to say goodbye, we go through a long ritual still. Kisses, hugs, cheek hugs, eye kisses, high fives, zerberts, secrets (which have been that “Hulk is the best Super Hero” and “Gabe is the best baby” for as long as I can remember). Then, I leave the room, and head outside. We wave, hug the air, blow kisses, do a karate chop and an air fist bump. Finally, you allow me to turn and go to the van. As I drive past the window, you wave and smile. Then you run to the next window, throw me an air hug. I continue, slowly, riding the brakes, and you run to the third and final window. A final wave, and we’re parted for the day.
During your school day, you still get excited about computer classes and soccer at Tutor Time. You still eat nothing but fruit and carbs at lunch time. When I see you in the evening, you’re generally outside with Daddy and Gabe, kicking a soccer ball, playing with a frisbee I brought back from the beach, or playing with swords. When we come in for dinner, you still eat nothing but carbs and the occasional chicken nugget (but again, it’s covered in carbs). There are often arguments over toys with Gabe, but in general, you are a patient big brother, ready to offer a trade to get what you want.
We have loved the new neighborhood, mostly for the ability to go for walks in the evenings or on the weekends. One of your favorite friends from Tutor Time (Connor) lives a couple of blocks away, and there are a couple of other boys, Nicky and Dave, who have a great jungle gym in their backyard. Our neighbors across the street (Ms. Julie and Mr. Bruce) have a dog named Shadow. Given your past fears of all things dog, I am still amazed at how well you took to the dog. You love going to give him treats and making him do tricks for you.
In your new bedroom, we recently started decorating according to your wishes: Space themed. We got vinyl wall hangings in plants, stars, spaceships, meteors, and an alien. Your bedspread has aliens all over it. Alien toys are huge for you, and the alien T-shirt we got on a whim for your birthday was opened with a loud, gleeful sound of “Whhhhhhoooooo-eeeee!”
Your quirks that I want to make sure I always remember: Spontenudity is still a strong on with you. Your lego buildings are always nearly perfectly symmetrical. If I look at you with a quizzical look about any of your food pairing requests, you are likely to eat it all without any further comment from me (such as the cheeto in the strawberry flavored water smoothie you insisted on making after you saw that Gabe had done it). You always want to get in the bath first. You are fine with morning kisses in front of numerous other kids, but if I try to give you a goodnight kiss, you wipe it off and rub it on my shoulder. You love to hide, your favorite spots being under the kitchen sink in the downstairs bathroom and behind the chair in the library.
I will miss the little boy you were, who writes his e backwards in his first name and writes his middle name SamNel. I can’t wait for you to become the man I know you can be.
There’s no way we’re parents of a kindergartner. That can’t be right.
I know we just went took a 2 hour tour of the kindergarten. I know we met our new teacher (who is awesome), but there’s no way that this giant blond kid who writes his own name and led us around the school is ours.
I don’t know who this boy is, but I”m proud of him.
This was very much an “eh” read to me. I certainly didn’t dislike it, but neither did I fall in love with the characters, the scenery, the plot… anything.
I liked some characters, but those characters were the ones who seemed the most glossed over. In all fairness, the character I wanted to know the most about would not have helpful in the “lesson” of the novel: the world is large, but that no matter how small you feel, you’re still a large part of the world to someone. In order to learn that the world is large, characters have to come and go… the character I found the most interesting (Whitey, who proposes to Jim’s mother and is rejected) has to move out of the scene… and this teaches Jim a lesson, right?
The ending was fairly pat, even for a YA novel. I don’t know that I had expected anything else, given the majority of the book, but I think I held out a little bit of hope.
All in all, it was a good read for someone interested in coming of age novels set in a specific time frame (Great Depression era) and locale (small North Carolina town). For a reader drawn to powerfully written characters rather than flowery descriptions of surroundings, it likely will do for you what it did for me.
Hayden has devised a new rating system for how he feels about us as parents; by awarding us “awesomes”. I’m still trying to work out the exact mechanism but it seems that at any time we can have somewhere between zero and two awesomes. The happier he is with us the more awesomes we are awarded.
Currently I stand at one awesome with no modifiers. The modifiers seem to come into play when he’s recently become favorable but may still be mad from something earlier. For example last weekend I had one awesome and one thumbs down.
We’ve been a bit negligent with posting here of late, so I understand if I’ve earned a thumbs down or two, hopefully some pictures of what we’ve missed will earn an awesome.
Of all the Hallmark Holidays, Mother’s Day is by far my favorite. Granted, I am a mother, so I might be a bit biased. But I take the fully blown appreciation when I can get it.
The weekend has been beautiful, and despite some conflict because of all the stuff that still needs to be done, all the money that still needs to be spent, and all the waiting that still needs to be suffered through for the condo sale, it’s been a good Mother’s Day Weekend.
The boys brought home gifts from daycare (one of my favorite parts of the whole daycare experience is the ample supply of crafts we get to cherish - and then um, *cough* lose), and I enjoyed pretending to not be able to see through the tissue wrapping paper until this morning.
Gabe was a picture of himself (far from the most flattering of my baby boy) holding a sign saying he loved me. His handprints are on either side. Baby handprints break my heart. I loved it much.
Hayden’s was even better. I got a picture of roses. The petals we his handprints, the stems were his arms, the thorns were his thumbprints. (This explains the laundry I did this week.) I also got a picture of him, with his name and a sticker rampage done by the amateur artist himself. (To my knowledge, he hasn’t made any money off of his masterpieces yet.)
I was reminded what it meant to be a mother, as the first thing Hayden said to me this morning was, “Have you washed my Power Rangers shirt yet, Momma?” Though, the spontaneous hugs and kisses have helped much to remind me of that role, too.
The trip to the local zoo went smoothly, even if the stroller wasn’t much help. Gabe is much more independent than Hayden was at this point in his life, and he wants little to do with the restriction of the stroller. I love being a member, as we got there 10 minutes after opening, spent $0, and left with no remorse for not having seen every animal.
Now, naptime is a bit bumpy, but I think I’m going to go read to Gabe. I’m thoroughly enjoying the novel I am reading to him right now. (Birdwing - a story based on the fairy tale of the seven brothers turned into swans.)
I’m smiling just thinking of reading to him, which means it is time to sign off.
Gabriel is in the middle of an explosion of communication. He’s picking up on words, learning many of their meanings, and parroting almost everything. He understands everything we tell him, though when he’s being difficult he pretends not to.
Today was Gabe’s first joke.
Hayden is a big fan of knock knock jokes, though his form still requires some refinement. Generally his punchline consists of a series of nonsensical words, something about a bathroom and him literally punching himself in the face.
After several of Hayden’s knock knock jokes Gabe decided to chime in:
Gabe: Knock knock!
Me: Who’s there?
Gabe: Moo!
/scene
(google interrupting cow if you don’t think this is funny)
You were my, what, fifth grade teacher? The inscription is in my hand, but it says, ” From: Mrs. Senuta, To: Brie.” If my memory serves me correctly, you also gave me a reader’s journal with it. That too, has been carried with me, untouched for all these years.
So here is by book report, long over due.
M.C. Higgins, The Great is an enchanting story of one boy’s journey through defining who he is in relation to the world. For a boy who lives on the mountain, far from a city life, he has plenty of conflicting forces in his world.
He wants to acheive greatness, even if it comes through his mother’s success in the music world. He wants off the mountain, as he thinks only devestation exists for him there (and he may be right). He has conflict about the boy who could be defined as both his best friend and no more than a shadow, since MC’s world has taught him that Ben is not something to be valued. He wants to be something his father is not, to be able to move about the world as his father seemingly can’t, which I believe is what draws him to the pole. He can climb the metal pole with ease, escaping from the world beneath him, watching over the distance to be a protector and a provider, something Jones (his father) isn’t.
It isn’t until he gets caught up in his desire to know Lurhetta, though, that the story gets interesting for me. He meets this girl, is drawn to her freedom, and seemingly wants to tame her. He again, is conflicted about his true desire, swinging from wanting to keep her on the mountain and wanting to run away with her.
She is able to teach him to view the world more openly, though, as she pushes him to accept Ben (the “six-fingered witchy”) for what he is, a true friend and confidant. In doing so, she also teaches him that the mountain is in fact what he loves, much as it is what his father loves, and is likely to be what his children someday will love, too.
MC is not destined to be his father, though, which is the beauty of this novel. For as much as some traits may be passed down a genetic line, there are always choices to be made, such as which walls to tear down, and which to build up.
Hayden has taken to randomly stripping around the house. We’ll be hanging out and playing and all of the sudden - BAM - naked 4 year-old. He’s got nudity Tourette’s or something.
This weekend as Brie and I were working in the kitchen while the boys were playing. Hayden was running around between the living room and the kitchen.
Suddenly he bursts into the kitchen bare-ass naked singing “I have a penis! I have a penis!” then suddenly covering his shame he changed the song to “I have a penis and you can’t see it! I have a penis and you can’t see it!”
He’s also taken up the habit of shouting “Tada!” every time he strips, but I’m pretty sure he gets that from me…
Fortunately this hasn’t happened in the grocery store. Yet.
Recent Comments