Saturday, January 30, 2010

The Outlaws



"It not trespassing if there's a child involved"
"Yes, it is Mom"
"No, Kate. Don't you want your son to have fun?"
"I really hope there is some kind of bulldozer alarm and when you open the door its going to go off and you're going to feel really stupid. Maybe it will spray some paint on you or something. Then the town will have to get involved and I'll have to bail you out of our one jail cell. I'll tell the papers you have been corrupting my child for YEARS. Years."
"Can you stop bitching and help us climb up here?"
"I am only here to take pictures. I am no accomplice. Good luck!"

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Bunk Beds, Anyone?

Last weekend, while Wyatt was with Terry and my mind was spinning silently into a vortex of solidarity, I dismantled Wyatt's crib and replaced it with a toy box. I can't remember the last time Wyatt actually slept in his crib (embarrassingly, I think it will be a year around April). He likes to climb up the side of it and asks for me to throw socks at him. Certainly not what it is intended for and most likely an activity that has us headed for a recall. So, I decided to call a spade a spade, officially dig my grave as a co-sleeper, and pray that his transition into a big-boy bed goes smoothly and quickly.

(Deep breath and a sigh) Wyatt sleeps with me. Every night. And every nap he is snuggled in my (our) big bed. It might not be socially acceptable but its what works for us. Wyatt usually sleeps for 10 hours straight at night and I do too except for some kicks and maybe a reposition or two. Its OK with me. When he wakes up, I get to hear the first words out of this mouth which I can only assume is something he has been dreaming about. Yesterday it was "Robin Hood hiding in tree. Up, up, up at top. Oh no! Fall down! Bamm." Then he opened his eyes looked into mine and said "Morning Momma!" Yes, sometimes it can be terribly inconvenient and most of the time mildly embarrassing but I think its a good compromise. And just like most of the bad parts of childhood, its fleeting and you are left with only the good memories.

Sometimes I wonder if under difference circumstances he would be still in his crib. If I had a man in my bed every night (preferably/hopefully the same man) would Wyatt never have made it into my bed to begin with. Maybe I would have been stricter with him. Maybe my loneliness and spinsterhood has enabled Wyatt to stay in my bed. Maybe if we both weren't insane cuddlers. And then I think maybe not. Regardless of who is in my bed, I would still want to wake up with Wyatt's blue eyes inches from mine. I can see the scene play out before me, Wyatt would cry and I would start begging. "Please, let me bring him in. Only this once, promise. Please, he needs me." Which would turn into every night.

I was, understandable, nostalgic when removing Wyatt's crib. As each side came down, I would have flashbacks of Lizzy and Rebecca's hysterical antics at its assembly. Flashbacks of sunrises spent watching Wyatt's chest rising and falling. Flashbacks of forgoing sleep to listen to him coo or smell behind his ears. As I packed all of the bumpers and extra sheets into the attic I found myself wondering when I might see them again. Maybe in the next 5 years, maybe 10 years, maybe never. Because you really never know what life is going to bring. And the cliches are true; it all goes much much faster then you ever anticipated.

(Just a brief explanation of these pictures: First, Wyatt is 2 days old. His first introduction to Momma's big bed. Second, the last time Wyatt was in his crib. He's 5 months old. And Third, the other day in his preferred sleeping position.)

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

The Belated Christmas Recap

Not at all surprising, Wyatt was an absolute champ for Christmas. I was mildly worried because I think it can be quite intimidating and extremely overwhelming for kids. Between my family and Terry's, Wyatt had 3 days of present opening. Plus we were opening at least one present a day for the week leading up to Christmas. I know, I know, scold me. He would find something and then look at me with those huge eyes begging "Peese, Momma. Open peese." I can't say no. I don't have the will power. Besides, I bought them and I will decided when I should dole them out. So there.

There were several big hits in the toy department. First was this wooden (for lack of a better word) dollhouse fire station generously gifted from my parents; complete with 2 trucks, 3 firemen, plasma, and BBQ. Wyatt plays with this for HOURS. He makes up all these different scenarios and acts them out with the firemen. They will put out a fire and have to take a bath because they smell like smoke. Then he calls out "Dinner time!" and makes them sit at the table together. If I ask him what's for dinner it is usually hot dogs or sometimes cheeseburgers. They watch Backyardigans on their TV. Once the dog fell of the roof and he picked it up in the ambulance to go to the doctors. I don't know where he learned all of this.

I found this German company (Bruder) online that makes functioning 3 foot long replicas of classic trucks. They are kind of expensive but are something he will play with for years. I got him a cement mixer that we put Kix in the drum then spin it until they come back down the shoot. Auntie De got him this great Backhoe that his firemen fit perfectly in. He wants to take it everywhere with him. The other day he fell asleep with it in his hand and refused to let me take it. And Terry got him a fire truck that can shoot water out of the hose. When we found that out we had so much fun I had to mop the kitchen floor. I swear, if you have a kid who likes trucks, get them these because they are AMAZING.

Then there were the random gifts that he adores. The Playdoh set I got him that he spends hours sitting at the kitchen table creating masterpieces. He sat for 2.5 hours STRAIGHT the other day. That is absolutely unheard of for a toddler. His new found love of watercolors. He will be sitting playing and stand up to declare "let's paint!" running into the kitchen. The funniest part was him tearing through the wrapping paper and getting so disappointed if it wasn't a truck or some kind of car. He would cast the gift aside like I had wrapped up a huge pile of poop. So, I am thinking that I am going to have to get him some kind of truck for his birthday but I am having some mild anxiety about it. I want to out-do myself but I am sick of the trucks already. Ohh my dear Internet, do you have any thoughts?

Monday, January 11, 2010

23 Months

Bud,

I found you!! You kind of got lost in Christmas presents for a while there. Kidding, kidding but you did get a ridiculous amount of presents this year and you love playing with ALL of them at once. Our house has looked like a toy store threw up in it for a few weeks now. Hell, you barely can find time to eat with all the playing. I am sure you will slow down just in time for February 9th when you get hit with another onslaught of presents.

We had a pretty eventful month. Daddy and I took you to the New York Botanical Gardens to see this train show. It was pretty amazing. They had all these miniatures of NYC monuments with trains running through them. You were impressed but a bit overwhelmed by all the people. You got more attached to this gingerbread house designed like a circus tent. When we got home, I was prompting you to tell stories of our trip. You kept on repeating "Phelepants! Round and round and round." complete with hand gestures and "Ion stuck cage. Hiding." Gammy and Pa were so confused to why there were elephants and lions at the Botanical Gardens. We hung out at Bree and Elias's house the other morning with Kari and Lars Christian. You were fascinated by Elias playing Super Mario Brothers. As I was chatting with the girls, I looked over to find you sitting on the couch next to Elias as he was teaching you how to jump and spin with the controller. Then upon finding Elias in the basement refinishing his piano you declared "Me working too" and ran to the open tool box which almost sent Bree into hysterics (she's a little nervous about a toddler holding a screwdriver). You were a little less patient with Lars Christian scolding him every time he put something in his 4 month old mouth. Little do you remember that you were just like that a few months ago.

I know I keep on harping that your language skills are amazing (CAUSE THEY ARE) but impossibly they have grown even more. You have catch phrases, little gems that I hear about 47 times a day and you will use the same inflection every time. You have embarked on the age of curiosity and fittingly now ask "Watzat?" to everything that remotely interests you, in your high falsetto with accompanying upturned palm gesture. It could be a nail clipper, a dog barking, chap-stick, a spatula, a plastic packaging, or a rumbling truck. Everything is of great interest and in need of a detailed explanation of its existence. You pose with your little index finger on the side of you chin and "hmmm, hmmm" when your thinking or find something puzzling. You have begun to tease me. I ask "How much does Wyatt love Momma?" you pause and pinch your fingers together responding "lille bit, lille bit". Then wait for my appalled response and throw your arms out wide yelling "No, no. Tiss much!!!" which is followed with a huge Momma hug. And evidently there is an octopus on the loose around the house because whenever I ask who threw toys all over the living room, or who peed on the floor, or who emptied the entire bottle of shampoo in the tub, I am told that an "Octopus did it." That pesky octopus.

I made a bizarre New Years resolution thats a little wordy but if I had to sum it up its to try to live my life in retrospect. Meaning: 40 years from now, when I'm 67, what would I tell my younger self to do differently or enjoy more? Does that make any sense? For example, there are times when I get frustrated with you (my abysmal lack of patience) especially around meal time. But at 67, I am sure I would tell myself to enjoy those moments and that I won't get them back. Or when I am sitting through the same Backyardigans episode for the 100th time with you on my lap feeling myself getting antsy. At 67, I would tell myself that Wyatt (now 42) will absolutely NOT be cuddled on your lap. I am sure that I would tell my younger self to smell you more, to multitask less, to cherish when you pull on my pants leg, to laugh when you unroll all of the toilet paper, to add more hot water and let you stay in the bath for another 10 minutes, and phone calls can wait while we are making Playdoh masterpieces. That mentality doesn't end with you. Push it out further. I would tell my younger self to be more adventurous, take that proposed trip with you to Florida, go on that job interview, ask for that raise, invest in that stock, get out of the house, write and take more pictures. If I can live my life just a little bit more like that, I think we are in for a very good 2010.

I love you (and your alter ego Messy Octopus) everyday.
Momma

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Fridays at the Y

Wyatt and I have class at the Y every Friday at 9:30 in the morning. I always used to be a stickler for time. Being on-time was late in my book. Then I had a child and now I will never be on-time again. This is a brief reenactment of every Friday morning before class. It usually doesn't bother me; taking 2 hours to get out the door but my anal internal clock gets mildly twitchy when I know I am going to be late for an event. God help me when I need to get him to school at 9 every morning.

7:45 am - Come on, Wyatt, time to wake up. I really would like to get there on time like all the other parents.
8:03 - That's my hibernating bear! Up and at 'em, engineer! Sun's up, morning's here!
8:04 - All right, Mom's a little too excited. Can we both just take it down a few decimals? I'll get your bottle.
8:26 - That diapy is so full with pee-pee's, can I take it off?
8:26.14 - Please! Lets pick a toy out for your diapy change!
8:26.38 - Diaper Change, NOW, Bud!
8:27 - Would you like to wear big boy underwear today? No? What if you pick them out? Well, all right then, maybe tomorrow.
8:29 - Spend several minutes in the bathroom, washing my face, brushing my teeth, trying to look mildly acceptable while Wyatt runs around pantless and/or watches the Backyardigans pantless.
8:37 - Would you like some breakfast? A blueberry muffin? Clementine? Waffle with a lot of syrup? Eggie weggies? Pa's juice? Cherrios? Blueberries? Yogurt? Apple? OK, so, pretzels it is!
8:40 - Momma just needs to sit for a minute and drink some tea. Would you like some of my cherrios? No? I thought so.
8:45 - Pack diaper bag: toys, juice cup, binky, blanket, diapers, wipes, a book, snack, my wallet, phone. Check!
8:47 - Hey Bud! I've got this great shirt with a bulldozer on it. Isn't it the coolest? Big boys love wearing shirts with trucks on them. And maybe some pants.
8:53 - Ok, sure, let's put on the red socks.
8:53.27 - Ok, the blue socks.
8:53.36 - Red socks? Right.
8:53.42 - Are you sure you want to put on the Lightening McQueen socks? Are you sure?!
8:55 - Why don't you pick out the hat you would like to wear?
8:56 - Where the hell did I put your jacket? And my shoes?
8:59 - Yes, PUP, we are leaving and you are not coming. Please, stop barking before I ripe out your vocal cords.
9:01 - PUP!!! Sweet Jesus! You tripped Wyatt! Stop running and get in your cage. YOU ARE NOT COMING!!!
9:10 - Come on, Wyatt. We're going to play with the kids. Would you like to bring that toy with us? Yup, in Momma's car. Come on, lets go show that toy to the birds outside.
9:13 - KATE, GET OUT THE FRONT DOOR, OH MY GOD
9:14 - All right! Can you hold Momma's hand? Its slippy out to the car.
9:16 - Yes, Yes!! Its a truck. How exciting! Lets watch!
9:30 - Bud, are you ready to get in the car now?
9:45 - Arrive with hair amiss and utterly disheveled, Wyatt looking like I picked out his clothing blind folded, and, unsurprisingly, late.