Autumn

A few evenings ago, we loaded up the Boy and drove to a nearby park.  The air was warm, with just a hint of chill in the breeze.  We all wore jackets, but Patrick and Miles probably could have been just fine without them.  As they chased each other in lopsided circles, occasionally sword fighting, or tossing a ball, I lagged behind, breathing in the perfect weather, and the beautiful autumn colors.

 And sighed again at the passing of the seasons.  I will miss these spontaneous excursions, and the breaks by the waterside.

Oh, Autumn, how bittersweet you are. . .

The Perfect Birthday Party

Lots of fun

An awesome cake.

Sword-fighting with the cousins.

Opening gifts

Eating cake.

Feeding cake to Mommy (or, at least the frosting). :)

Popsicles instead of ice cream.

Reading one of the many books.

Sword-fighting with Grandfather

Happy Birthday to my boy. :)

Beeeeep

Greetings!

You have reached the voicemail of a Bad Mommy.  She is currently out of* communication until next week, as she enjoys a lovely vacation with her family.

Or she's trying to enjoy the 14-hour car ride with a teething, possibly screaming toddler.  Even odds, really.

Leave a comment at the beep, and she'll be sure to respond when she returns.  Provided her brain hasn't drizzled out of her ears by then.

*her mind

Glorious Weekend

Shopping garage sales with my hubby, giddy with the knowledge that we were alone together.

Dinner and dessert with B and Stacey at Cheesecake Factory, then wandering the bookstore until it closed, mostly just chatting.

Taking Miles to the farmer's market, and reveling in the compliments from strangers on how cute he was in his little overalls.

Long, glorious naps in the middle of the day.

Stir fry made with veggies fresh from the market.

Exploring a local park, and watching Miles' delight when he saw the "Duck! Cack! Cack!" on the lake (even though it was actually a goose).

A quiet, lazy Monday, that ended with delicious steaks marinated with a sauce I designed on the fly.

Sunshine, and cool breezes.  Long walks, and holding hands with my hubby, and the joy of toddler giggles.

Perfection.

Tired

I am exhausted.  So, the post for today will suck.

This is because yesterday, I:

• took Miles to the children's farm with friends
• cleaned the living room
• vacuumed
• did a pile of laundry
• chased Miles around the living room trying to keep him from destroying everything I had just cleaned
• cleaned the kitchen
• took Miles off the dining room table where he had climbed and gotten stuck [repeat x 10]
• made stuffed peppers for dinner
• had friends over to share the peppers
• walked to Dairy Queen
• had a lovely conversation on the patio while we ate our ice cream
• chased Miles around the patio to keep him from darting out into traffic
• walked home
• chatted for a few moments with the roomie
• stared blankly at the computer for awhile, trying to think of something witty to write
• gave up and went to bed.

The end.  Have a good day.  May it be a tad less busy than yesterday.

Unstoppable

On Sunday, I wrote of the many qualities that Miles possesses that make me proud to call him mine.  I spoke mostly of bravery, before, but equally impressive to me is his willingness to 'get back on the horse', as it were.

Being that Miles is an incredibly active little boy, he has had more than his share of bumps and bruises.  His share of falls, wipe-outs, trips, and stumbles.  Each time, my heart leaps into my throat, certain that this time, he is really going to hurt himself.  And that he will become scared of [playgrounds/hills/animals/furniture/whatever-he-has-fallen-off-this-time] and refuse to interact with it again.

If only I were so lucky.

I'm joking, of course.  More or less.  While his insatiable need to go right back to what he was doing is a positive quality in a lot of ways, the part of me that wants to protect him from the world fears for him.  Instead, I sit on my hands and allow him to try again, because I don't want him to lose that determination to keep at it until he gets it right.  Someday, this quality will help him score a goal in a sport that was difficult for him, or master a difficult mathematical concept, or ask a girl on a date.  It will help him become a successful person, never accepting defeat.  And that's a quality I want him to have.

For now, though, it's difficult to watch.  On Saturday, as he played on the playground at a local park, he lost his balance and face-planted onto hard plastic.  Patrick immediately scooped him up, and together we tried to examine the damage, fearing that he had bitten his tongue, or worse, had loosened a tooth.  In his moment of pain, however, Miles twisted away from us, clamping his mouth closed.  I wiped the blood off, trying to get a better look at him, but he tore off, and climbed onto the same play structure that he had been injured on.  It wasn't until much later, when we were finally able to get him strapped into his carseat to go home, that we were able to see that the scary amount of blood had all come from a split lip.  Sore, definitely, but not nearly as bad as we had feared.

I remember being a child.  I remember how afraid I was of pain.  How afraid I still am.  When I fell off of a playground structure, it terrified me to go anywhere near it for months afterward.  And yet, and 19-months-old, Miles has nothing of that quality in him.  And I am so happy for this one thing he did not inherit.

Brave

One of the best parts of motherhood, so far, has been the discovery of qualities in my child that I, as an adult, still struggle to attain.  I am so incredibly proud of Miles' innate sense of what people need, of his charisma, his dancing ability,* his absolute love for all creatures.

But, most of all, I am proud of his courage.  He is so little, and the world is so big.  And yet, he faces every new situation with enthusiasm.  That doesn't mean he isn't afraid.  He is, rather often.  In almost all new situations, he will keep a hand on me, for reassurance, until he has decided that it is safe.  But that fear never stops him from exploring.

I realized this once more last Thursday, when we visited the Children's Farm again.  On the playground, he kept returning to the swing, even though each little push terrified him.  He would ask to get down, then return to it a few minutes later, determined to try again.  In the goat pen, he once more played with the goats freely, while much older, bigger kids backed away in fear of a bite or some other imagined danger.  On the sidewalks, he ran with wild abandon from one exhibit to the next, while most children walked a half step behind parents for protection.  He explored open green spaces.  He peered inside buildings.  He petted a cow that was literally taller than me.**

I am so proud of my brave little explorer. :)

*Hell, the fact that he has way more skill in all physical activities than I'll ever have.  It's kinda sad to realize that a 19-month-old is better at catching a ball than his mother. . .

**And giggled when it made a cow pie, but that's a fairly normal reaction, I'm told, for a boy. :)

The Goat Whisperer

Tuesday morning, we met up with Miles' friends Elliot and Audri, and their mommies, for a day at the children's farm.  It's this amazing, idyllic little working farm, geared toward teaching children about farm life.  Of course, the kids are mostly interested in petting the animals and playing on the playgrounds.

Except Miles.  I don't know exactly what was going on with him that morning, but he was whiny and unhappy the entire time we were there.  I had opted to leave the stroller at home, since normally he won't sit in it for more than a minute or two at a time.  Unfortunately, that left me carrying him all morning, since he had no desire to walk at all.  I had resigned myself to the fact that Miles was not going to enjoy it at all.

And then we saw the baby goats.  Suddenly, he wanted down, to walk into the pen.  The second he came through the gate, half a dozen itty-bitty goats surrounded him, and his delight was palpable.  He petted them, and followed them.  At one point, he even sat down with them.  Several babies surrounded him, nuzzling him gently, and asking for more scratches from his little hands.  The grin never left his face.

Tuuuuck.

So, yesterday, Miles and I went to Target to pick out a birthday present for Daddy from Miles.  Given Miles' complete hatred of most shopping excursions, I have to admit that I was expecting the worst.  I had no idea what I was in for.

We were without a cart.  For some reason, Miles has decided that the primary use of a shopping cart is to dive out of it.  Several times, I have managed to somehow catch my son mere seconds before he crashes into the floor.  Somehow, motherhood has turned me into some sort of disaster-sensing ninja with lightning-fast reflexes.  Highly useful, considering my child seems determined to bash his head on . . . well, any and every hard surface in sight.  In any case, I've found that, as long as we're not in a hurry to get anywhere particular, it's highly preferable to just allow Miles to walk.

There we were, meandering through the store, just the two of us: Miles darting off to look at the wall of TV's or display robot in the toy section, Mommy trying desperately to keep him from pulling all of the nicely-folded polos off of the racks.  Still, for the most part, it was a far calmer excursion than most.

Eventually, we had our items, and began making our way toward the checkout.  Halfway to the front of the store, Miles suddenly veered off into the women's clothing.  As soon as his feet touched carpet, though, he carefully laid down, then rolled over.  He flung a hand dramatically over his head, and said,

"I tuck."

For a moment, all I could do was stare at him with an open mouth, thinking,  "Wha. . .?!?!?"  Laughter bubbled up and out, before I could stop it.  After a few seconds, I managed to ask, "You're what?"

"I tuuuuck," he repeated, drawing it out for maximum theatrical effect.

"You're stuck?" I guessed.

"Ess. I tuuuuuuuuuuuck."

I leaned over, and tried to pick him up.  Toddlers have this neat trick where they turn into really heavy, but really limp spaghetti; he did that, all the while pointing down, shaking his head, saying, "Uh uh! Uh uh!"  I put him back down.  He carefully, but dramatically, threw himself back to the floor.

"I tuck."

Not knowing what else to do, I walked a few steps away, out of his eyesight, but where I could still see his shoes.  Sure enough, he caught up to me a few seconds later, chattering on as though nothing had happened.  Twenty steps later, he fell to the floor again, this time in the middle of the main aisle.

"I tuck."

It took half an hour to travel the fifty feet or so to the registers.  I couldn't help but laugh.

Epic Shower Fail

Did you ever have an idea that sounded like a good idea at the time, but turned out to be an absolutely horrific idea?  One of those that, when you thought about it later, made you question your sanity for even considering it in the first place?

Yeah, I had one of those moments on Thursday.

Up until recently, I have always showered during Miles' first nap of the day - somewhere between 10:00 and 11:00 in the morning.*  It worked out nicely, because I was usually able to shower, and then prep lunch before Miles woke up.  Then, Miles became a one-nap-a-day kid.  If I wait until his nap?  It will be 12:30 in the afternoon before I shower.  And that's a little too sluggish, even for me.  I cannot shower first thing in the morning, because that's when Stacey showers.  And showering at night means I have this massively ugly afro in the morning.

So, in a moment of insanity brought on by 'my hair feels icky', I had a brilliant thought.  I am forever hearing stories from other moms about how their kids play quietly in the bathroom while they shower.  Now, this is where I should have scoffed at the idea.  Because Miles?  Has never 'played quietly' while I'm doing anything short of watching his every move.**  Still in my ick-induced delirium, I set Miles up with a box of Duplos on the bathroom floor, and rushed to jump in the shower.

I began to see the flaw in my plan the minute the water was turned on.  Miles appeared at the side of the tub, peeking around the shower curtain, begging to be allowed in.  I quickly soaped my hair, while he hung from the side of the tub, and said, "Just a minute, Sweetie, Mommy will be right out."  Miles took that as permission to try crawling into the tub fully clothed.

Seeing wet, slobbering concussions in my near future, I quickly stripped him out of his clothes, and put him on the far end of the tub, with his bath toys.  Meanwhile, I went back to the warm confines of the shower stream to rinse my hair.

And realized that it was far too hot for Miles.  See, my approach to cleaning is that if the water is hot enough, it will strip the dirt right off of anything.  This includes me.  Plus, I am completely incapable of retaining even the least little bit of body heat, so the heat helps keep me from developing hypothermia in my own house.^  So, the water in the shower was somewhere just short of boiling as it came from the shower head.  I quickly adjusted it down to a level that was cool enough for Miles.  Which meant that I was instantly freezing.

Meanwhile, Miles had realized that the tub was not filling up with water, and that instead, water was spraying down from somewhere up high.  He was displeased with this arrangement, and decided to let it be known.  By sitting between my feet and screaming for all he was worth.  His screams seemed to echo, "Mommy, why is there water coming from the sky?"

To which I replied, "Okay, Sweetie, scoot back here, Mommy will rinse her hair, and then we'll turn off the evil water."

Screaming, obviously translating to, "But, Mommy!  There's water!  Coming from the sky!  I need to be between your feet for safety!"

"Move back here, please!"

"I can't!  There's water!  Coming from the sky!!!  It's so awful I'm going to look up at you while I scream!" <Miles gets a face-full of water> "Water!!! Coming from the sky!!!"

"Move back!  Mommy will fix it!  But I have to rinse the soap from my hair!"  After all, it's only been there for ten minutes, now!

". . . But there's water coming from the sky!!!  It's dreadful!  Save me."

"Fine."

I picked him up, wrapped him in a towel and deposited him on the outside of the tub, so I could make the desperate attempt to rinse my damned hair.  Apparently, being outside the tub made Miles forget everything that had happened in the last ten minutes, because two seconds later, he was trying to climb back into the tub.

And that's how I ended up standing naked outside the shower, bent over backward, rinsing my hair with one hand in the freezing cold water, while trying to keep my naked toddler from crawling into the tub with my opposite leg.

*Yes, that means I sit around in my pajamas until then.  I am a lazy slug.  But I like it, so :p

**Seriously, the kid seems to think he is incapable of play unless someone is watching.

^I should note that we keep the temperature in our home between 68 and 70 degrees Fahrenheit, which would be plenty warm enough for anyone whose body can retain any heat at all.  My body has apparently decided that standing upright is enough of an accomplishment for it.  Retaining heat would just be overkill.

Science Museum

Saturday morning, Miles and I made the twenty minute trek to our nearest science museum.  We played in water, and did several other fun things.  Then, I remembered I had the camera.  So, here is an overview of our adventures. Enjoy! :)

Playing at the train table in the toddler room.

Wearing a foam ring as a crown. Still in the toddler room.

The truck at the indoor playground.  We played here for quite
awhile, as well.

Playing with the magnetic gears.  He had a great time figuring
out how they worked.  So cute. :)

Riding the glass elevator.  He loved watching everything go by,
and the doors that wrapped around as they opened and closed.

And playing in the musical garden.  The rock garden sang,
the floor is a piano, and the trash cans are drums.  It was
the perfect place for my mini-musician. :)

I Heart the Mall

Like, big, pink, puffy, middle-school girl-with-a-crush hearts.  And possibly flowers, too.  Which is funny, since yesterday I talked about my hatred of shopping.  And under normal circumstances, I hate the mall with the fire of a thousand burning suns.  But, on a weekday, an hour before any of the stores open, it's simply a big, open, warm place to take a walk with my crazy-busy, active toddler.

So, at nine o'clock yesterday morning, I bundled Miles into the van and drove the half mile or so to the mall.  I took the stroller in, but for most of the morning, he walked beside me, running at times to keep up with my rather rapid pace.*  We stopped at the coffee shop inside the bookstore (one of the very few stores open at that ungodly hour), where I purchased a chai for me, and a blueberry scone for us to share.  And then, we walked the mall.  Like a pair of weight-conscious baby-boomers.  Except cuter.  Every few steps, Miles would stop and ask "more, please" and I would give him another bite of scone, and he would sign "thank you" (from his ear, but whatever, his mouth was busy chewing).  And then, we would continue walking, and nibbling, sipping our respective drinks, just chatting and enjoying one another's company.

Yeah, I can totally dig on the mall.

*I try to slow down for him, I really do.  It just doesn't always work very well . . .