Blondies at the Barbie

Zzzzzz

I can't sleep.  No, stratch that.  I don't think I will ever sleep again.  Ever.  I don't have trouble falling asleep, its the staying asleep that gets me.  Its 3am.  We had a busy day.  I should be asleep, but alas, I'm not.  I fell asleep putting Wyatt to bed (which how could I not?  He's so cuddly and soothing and sleepy...drool) only to wake up for NO APPARENT reason.  Then not being able to fall back asleep, I give in and head into the artificial light of the night.  I think it is safe to say that I haven't had a full 8 hours of sleep since I was pregnant.  Thats about 3 years ago.  I have always been a light sleeper but this is ridiculous.

All I can think of is that it is just so flipping ironic.  Wyatt is FINALLY sleeping through the night.  From 9:30pm till 8am.  And I am STILL getting up.  Is there no justice in the world?!?!  Sometimes I lay awake watching him sleep.  He's so angelic and peaceful.  Then I slowly get jealous. Sometimes I contemplate waking him up just so I won't be lonley.  That idea is quickly stratched.  I really don't think there is anything worse then being awake when all you want to do is be asleep.

Medication has been suggested. But how could I possible take sleeping pills?  Yes, I guess that would work for me but is that really the best choice for Wyatt.  What if he needs me during the night and I can't wake up?  I can't be drowsy during the day.  Plus, I am pretty hesitant to take medication anyway.  So, no.  Pills are not my solution.

I know my naysayers are saying "Move that child into another bed."  Wyatt is not the problem.  Yes, he rolls around a little but nothing dramatic.  I have been (mildly) trying to get him in his own bed.  I thought that Rebecca could put him to sleep upstairs in his potential new room under the guise of a fun sleepover with his aunt.  It lasted 30 minutes before he told Auntie B that the sleepover was over and he wanted to go back downstairs. So much for my well laid plans.  I'm not really motivated to move him.  He is starting school soon. I am hesitant to throw too many new things at him at once.  And (am I allowed to admit this) I am going to be sad to see him go.  I will never have this time with him again.  And I am not sure, if I have another child, that co-sleeping will be an option under different circumstances.  I enjoy having him close to me.  He is a cuddlier and I am more than happy to oblige.  He is my baby and I will always be there if he needs me.

I guess I am just going to have to tough it out and pray for some relief soon.  Catch up on my DVR and Netflix.  Maybe join Wyatt for his hour long naps.  Invest in some delicious, irresistible coffee.  Relish in the quiet at 4am.  Moonlight as a phone sex operator.  Who knows?

New Haircut, aka, My First Mohawk

Wyatt One Liners - The Bathroom Edition

We are at a Mets game with Gammy, Pa, Auntie B, Wyatt and I.  Gammy had attempted to get us a round of beers and came back empty hands to a chorus of groans and sighs.
"I didn't know everyone got carded?!?" She said exasperated.
"What?!" Wyatt chimes in.  "Everyone gets farted?  I didn't know everyone gets farted!"
He had the people sitting around us laughing with that one.

Pa and Wyatt are sitting in the bathroom together. After about 10 minutes, I decide to check to make sure everything is ok.  Before I can get over the threshold Wyatt looks up saying, "Mom, you better get out of here. Its going to get stinky."

Gammy asks if Wyatt needs to go pee or poop. "I'm doing a little pee-pees, a little tootles, and a little farts."

After a unusually long bathroom session with Wyatt, I go to flush the toilet and see the largest man-sized poop I have ever seen.  "Woah!  Wyatt those are some big poo-poos"
"Don't flush it!!!  I want Gammy and Pa to see."
As he runs out of the room to get them he's yelling "It's a whopper.  Gammy!  Pa!  I did a whopper!" 

On our way home from camping we have to make a pit stop because Wyatt announced he had to go poo-poos.  We stopped at a pizza joint and I took him to the bathroom.  After about 30 minutes in the bathroom, I asked him what was the matter.  "The poo-poos are too big for my butt."  We ended up staying at the pizza place for close to 2 hours before giving in to performance anxiety in a new place.  When we got home, he ran straight to the bathroom and pooped.

Wyatt was giving a shot at peeing standing up.  It wasn't going as well as planned.  He hit the toilet, and then the seat, and then the floor, and then my leg, and finally himself before I picked him up and put him in the bathtub.  I tend to think he did it on purpose because he was getting a huge reaction out of me.  Once in the tub and he was watching me clean up he says "Don't worry.  Don't panic.  It's going to be OK."

Step Aside, Brad Pitt

30 Months

Bud,

The summer is flying by in a blur of hazy, hot, and humid.  When we can motivate to get out of our air conditioned room, we have been venturing down to the beach so you can wade and cool off.  Our block has become a Camp (including you there are 8 kids under 10 and thats just the crew that lives here), racing bikes, playing catch, miniature daredevils on skateboards.  Its a total free-for-all and you love it.  There are days when we are super motivated and days that we are lazy and in pajamas until 4.  I'd like to think we are striking a good balance.  But then I remember I haven't done laundry in about a month and am resorting to pizza at least 3 times a week for lunch or dinner.  When school starts, I am sure we will fall into a more rigid routine but for now I am relishing our laziness. 

We went to "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs" last night at TR park.  It was a gorgeous night with the wind blowing in from the water.  We packed some popcorn, toys, and your camping chair to meet Michael, Jessie, and the gang.  You watched maybe 20 minutes of the movie before finding this tiny patch of dirt and throwing your chair in the "mud".  Then it was broken and needed to be taken to the repair shop.  Once you moved it to the "repair shop", the tools were lost in the big truck that was parked off to the side.  Then you had to ask each one of us for a wrench before declaring it fixed then throwing it back in the mud; starting the process all over again.  You talked and talked and talked.  Sometimes to Michael and sometimes to no one in particular.  You just talked to hear yourself talk.  You do this all the time now.  You play out this big stories and rub your hands together when you get excited.  I think there is so much going on in your head that it has to manifest itself somewhere else, usually wringing your hand and sometimes sound effects. Sometimes you like for me to play, "Vroom this truck, Mom." And other times your content to let me just sit and watch.

We trucked it down to Jen's to play in her pool on one beautiful day.  You LOVE the water so I thought you would have a blast laying around in the pool all day.  We also made a stop at Toys R Us.  I figured if buying you a new toy would allow me some much needed girl time with Jen, it would be worth it.  You found this Lego Duplo Truck thing that you promptly fell in love with and are now OBSESSED.  Like must know where the crane is at all times obsessed. You went into the pool for about 5 minutes before asking to get out so you could play with your new truck.  We were at Jen's house for a good 6 hours and you played with your new Lego's for the entire time.  I am pretty positive that Santa is going to bring you a lot of Lego's for Christmas.  I was hoping to hold off on the more expensive Lego adventure but it seems like you have hit that stage early.  Not surprising.

You also had your first adventure in "sail boating" this month.  Eric had invited us and finally the stars aligned that we were all free on Saturday.  I couldn't pass it up.  I was mildly nervous about you falling in the water so I made you wear your life jacket the entire time.  It took you a little time to get your sea legs and once you did, you really loved it.  I kept on trying to get you interested in watching the sails, or manning the tiller with Eric, or watching the water and other boats go by.  But you were more concerned that the flashlights worked in the cabin.  Or eating all the M&M's that I packed.  When we got home Gammy said she thought you have done more in your 2 years then some have done in their lives.  It just might be true.

You have been having a little separation anxiety lately.  I'm not sure if it's even separation anxiety.  It might just be a terrible two moment.  I'm not sure.  But you hate to see me leave.  Normally, I could give you a kiss goodbye.  "Where you going, Mom?" "I'm going to work, Bud.  I'll be back when you wake up from your nap." And you were fine with that.  Now, when you see me getting ready you start tailing me.  If I put on my shoes, its 20 questions.  I was leaving for work last Sunday and you starting cry so hard you gave yourself a bloody nose.  I caved.  I brought you with me.  I know it sets a bad precedent, you are going to think that if you cry enough I'll bring you.  I just couldn't stand it and I have a job that is OK with me bringing you.  Mrs. Spink, the woman who runs the church nursery, was thrilled.  You were perfectly well-behaved once we got there and was my little helper.  It was weird and out of character.  I am sure its just a phase.  And I'm just a little bit...well....um....content about it all.  Its hard to admit.  But as hard as it is for me to see you cry, it is kinda nice to see how attached you are to me.  Some reciprocity for how attached I am to you. It makes me think that you hate leaving me as much as I hate leaving you.

I love you everyday,
Mom - this is a new development.  "Mom"  I was always your "Momma" in that cute little baby voice and now, when you want something, you yell "Mom!"  You sit in your car seat just yelling "Mom" over and over because you know I can't get to you.  You think its funny.  I like "Momma" better.

The Great Outdoors

Mr. Blue Eyes

The "river" outside our tent.

Just sharing a log seat with Dad in the river.

On the top of the rock slide.  He didn't want me taking a picture of him.  I told him I was taking pictures of the clouds.  He was staring me down to see if I actually was.

Birthday Introspective

Dear Kate,

You turned 10,220 days old on the 19th.  Which seems like a very large, assuming number to be alive on this planet.  There is a lot of things you can do with 10,000+ days.  But it has come and past.  And you're still alive, still breathing, still loving life.  See?  It wasn't that scary.  So, what do you have to say for yourself?

First thing is you don't feel 28.  You just don't.  The minute you popped out that gorgeous baby, time has stood still and you began counting your life in Wyatt years rather then Kate years.  Each year that number gets higher and higher and you still feel like 25.  The only thing that whips you out of this senility is when you have to tell someone that Wyatt is 2 and a half.  Then you have to shake your head saying, "Wait a minute." Then begin counting on your fingers how old you actually might be.  I can only imagine that it is going to get worse; getting to a point where you look at your old self in the mirror asking "who the hell is that?"

I think you should be proud of yourself.  Even though, right now while your writing this letter to your older then 28 self, you don't feel very proud.  You feel that the overall outcome of those 10,000+ days doesn't amount to much.  That you still feel unfinished as a person.  And unaccomplished in your career. And very isolated and incapable in your love life.  That the light of your potential has dimmed somewhat.  That your drive, creativity, and passion has been dulled and tarnished.  That maybe you will never stop asking "what if" before jumping.

But I want you to focus not on the total sum of those 10,000+ days but rather today.  Right now.  Presently and when you read this to your older then 28 self.  How do you feel?  Everyday?

You are happy.  Period.  So, does the sum really matter?  Doesn't the happy cancel everything else out?

You wake up every morning to this angelic face saying good morning and laughing together.  Laughing before the covers have been thrown off.  Laughter instead of alarm clocks.  You have the financial savvy and the support of your parents to ALLOW you to spend time with that angel EVERYDAY.  If you want to lounge in your PJ's and he wants to run around naked all day, you can.  You get to dance and play and sing, everyday.  You get to go to the beach and watch him sit clothed in the salt water.  He says "I love you, Momma" before he falls asleep. You get to watch, participate in, and live unrestrained joy everyday.

You have parents who have shown you what true love is.  That have taught you commitment, compassion, teamwork, and sacrifice.  That taught you to take pride in yourself and your work.  Parents that love, adore, and dote on your child everyday.  That have ingrained in you to care for your loved ones no matter what.  That have given you the strength to love others with all of yourself because it does take strength. You have family that would give you their last shirt off their backs and vice versa.  A family that laughs together and takes vacations together.  A family that likes to be around each other.  Do you understand how rare that is?  You have sisters that, although you are seemingly not very close, would do anything for you and you for them.  You adore them and your life is more complete because they are in it.

You have a home.  A real home.  It might not be a house to call your own but its a home.  Filled with love and familiarity.  Filled with generations of friends that don't knock on the door and help themselves out of your chock full cabinets.  Filled with amazing memories, traditions, and every comfort you could ask for.  And people to come home to! And dinners where everyone helps to prepare a meal where you share a table.  Best of all, and a little gluttonous, you can do chores when you feel like it!

You have friends, oh God, do you have some damn good friends.  Friends that have been there for you since you were 3 and friends that you have just met and friends in between.  Friends that make Wyatt ask "Why are you laughing so much?" when your on the phone.  That inspire you.  That pick you up when your down and know the exact things to say.  Friends that you, literally, could not live without.

You have a dog, that's.....well.....um.....cute.

The point is, I know you are going to have times in your life, whether 28, 35, or 76, that you are going to feel doubtful.  Thats when I want you to drag out this letter and remind yourself that is isn't the sum total of your days that make you successful.  It isn't the checklist of life; the house, kids, marriage, career.  Its your everyday.  The everyday that make up the moments you will remember for your whole life.  The memories that fill up your days at 102 wishing that you had told yourself at 28 to take the time to burn those happy moments into your memory.  I am telling you to slow down.  To breathe.  Calm your life down.  And remember that you are happy, everyday.  That is the only thing that really matters.

Love, Kate
Ps. Thats a picture of you, at 3 months old.  You can accomplish A LOT in 10,000+ days.

On the Trail

Wyatt on our hike, chasing chipmunks.  He is standing on part of the "trail."

Black Pond

Adventuring.

And the Bear.

The Scenic Route

Our camping trip went fantastically well on all accounts.  I didn't die in some tragic stumble from a mountain top, Wyatt didn't get West Nile from all the bug bites, and I didn't kill Terry.  It was a great weekend and I am shocked to say that I would definately do it again.  I enjoyed being in the fresh mountain air.  There is something envigorating about all of it.  And our "roughing it" came with a walk to showers and bathrooms, with air mattresses and water spigets, with a trip to a pancake house for breakfast and margaritas after a long hike.  It was camping-lite and a great way to really pull out Wyatt's boy-ness.

Terry thought that the best way to broach the 6 hour trip to North Woodstock, New Hampshire was to leave at 5am, get much of the trip under our belt before Wyatt woke up.  I, surprisingly, agreed and then suggested finding some park or museum to let him blow off energy before making the rest of the trip.  I found this little town with a train and toy museum somewhere in Vermont that sounded promising.  Wyatt loved the little train ride and eating lunch in this old diner where they served orgainc, local food.  We took a scenic route through some mountains, letting woodsy air stream through open windows, singing songs from Wyatt's playlist on my iPod, which Terry eventually changed to Bob Dylan.  I jumped in the backseat to play with Wyatt and offer snacks.  He would take 3 oreo cookies out of the package at a time.  One for Momma, one for Dadda and one for Wyatt.

We got to the site around 2:30 and within a half hour Wyatt was covered in dirt, driving his trucks through the mud, and had destroyed most of the goodies that Mia had given him to last the weekend.  He had wanted to try out his new fishing pole about 12 times on the car ride up so I figured I would give it a shot while Terry had his way with the tent.  On the first cast, I wrapped it around a tree and got it caught, then I had to snap the line to get it back in.  So much for my outdoorsy prowess.  To make up for it, I tied a small dog figurine to the end of the line to act as a buoy.  It wasn't like we were going to catch anything.  The raging "river" that I had envisioned turned out to be a trickling stream, deep to your ankles, that made me have to pee.  Once the bulldog was attached, every time Wyatt reeled it in he shouted "I caught a whopper!" As if it was the bulldog we caught in the water.

We sat around in our camping chairs, one I bought especially for Wyatt, with cold beers, a juice box, and a warm fire. I got to catch up with Mia and Kelly while Terry took Wyatt on adventure walks and trips to the playground.  Recently, Wyatt has been afraid of shadows and the dark at home.  I was curious how this was going to manifest while camping where everything is dark and shadowy once the sunsets. I was nervous that sleeping in a tent was going to send him into terrified mode; memories that you need therapy for.   Fortunately, the novelty of flashlights, the fresh air, and the sun wore him out enough that I told him two bedtime stories and he was sleeping.  Terry and I took turns checking on him while we got to participate in camp fire shenanigans.  Have you ever had a s'more with a Reeses?  It blew my mind.

The next morning Mia and the gang were going on a casual hike to a natural rock slide and swimming hole.  About 3 miles each way plus a relaxing swim to break up the trek.  Terry and I thought it sounded like a good idea.  On the drive we past a baby black bear napping in a tree.  I told Terry to pull over.  It wasn't until Wyatt, the camera, and I were out of the car before I realized it might be slightly dangerous.  There was a baby black bear.  The momma bear had to be somewhere near by.  For the rest of the hike all I could think of was wondering into a bear.  We decided to take it slow; let Wyatt take in the sights.   The group went on ahead while we stopped to feed trail mix to a chipmunk.  About 2.5 miles in, we saw a sign saying Black Pond.  Neither of us had a map, or directions, and decided that was probably the right trail.  It was not.  It was rocky, steep, LONG, marked sometimes by only yellow spray paint on trees.  Terry and I switched off between the pack and Wyatt.  I wore Wyatt like a backpack or Terry put him on his shoulders.  Wyatt got cranky, understandably.  It was a far longer hike then any of us expected.  He finally past out on the way home with his head resting on my shoulder blade.  That being said, the rest we took by the pond was idyllic.  And when we finally got to the rock slide, dipping our feet in the icy mountain water was refreshing and calming.  I didn't want to go in because it was freezing but as classic clumsy Kate, I took a slip on a wet rock and landing smack on my butt.  We hiked for 8 miles.  Wyatt hiked for .5 tops.  I made Terry stop at a Mexican restaurant for dinner because we deserved a margaritas.

Back at the camp, later that night, Mia and Kelly told us they were about the send out a search party we took so long.  We got cleaned up and introduced Wyatt to s'mores.  We found the longest stick imaginable and let him roast one.  He loved it.  He didn't want to go to sleep that night.  I told him 3 stories before Terry joined us and I made him tell some.  Wyatt was snuggled up between us and said "We're all good friends."  Everyone can 'Awww' now.  He is just so amazing.  Honestly, where does he come up with this? I think I feel asleep before he did that night.  Once he was asleep, he even slept through a small thunderstorm.

The ride home was a little torturous and took us way longer then expected. I think next year maybe we'll find somewhere a little closer.  It was a great way to spend my birthday weekend and I have to thank Mia for organizing it all.  Another milestone checked off my list. 

Let's Go Mets

Into the Wild Blue Yonder

Terry, Wyatt, and I are going camping for the weekend with Kelly and Mia from SC.  We are meeting the girls in New Hampshire for Wyatt and I's first camping extravaganza.  I am sure hilarity will ensure.  Stay tuned to hear all about it....

Tell Me a Turtle Story

Wyatt and I read books every night. Usually about 5. Once the lights go off, we talk about our day for a while and sometimes, if he is still not sleepy, he asks me to tell a story.  Sometimes he wants stories about trucks, mail trucks or steamrollers, pickup trucks or school buses.  He names them and I make up a silly story.  The other night he asked for a turtle story.  I told him one that was based in reality from my own childhood with some added creative details.  He has asked for it several times since.  I guess my true to life stories are more believable then Morton the Mail Truck who got lost on his route.  Or Sam the pick-up truck that gets stuck in a pothole while delivering vegetables to children.

"When Aunt Kari and Momma were very little girls, we were riding our bikes on the back roads by the beach.  It had rained the night before and there were large puddles in the road that we half-heartedly tried to avoid.  At one puddle, we saw a little splashing.  We stopped our bikes and rushed to the nearest puddle to find the tiniest turtle you've ever seen splahing in the water.  He was just a baby and got lost on his way to the ocean."
"Where's his momma?" Wyatt always asks at this point which I kind of ignore because I don't know how to answer.  He doesn't have a momma, or he ran away, or she wasn't paying attention just doesn't seem appropriate.
"Kari and Momma thought the little turtle was so cute that we brought him home.  He couldn't stay in the middle of the road in a puddle that could dry up.  So, we took him to Gammy who found us a big box to put him in.  We made him a comfy home in the box with leaves and some water."
"And dirt. And grass. And sticks."
"Yup, and some celery so he wouldn't get hungry.  Kari and Momma took care of our turtle everyday.  We made sure he had fresh food and clean water.  And he grew.  He got bigger and bigger and bigger.  Until one day, he could barely fit in the box."
"The box broke!"
"He got so big that the box broke!  So, we told Gammy we needed to find a new home for our turtle.  She thought that maybe it was time to bring the turtle to the Fish Hatchery where he could have other turtle friends and a big pond to play in." (The first night this needed a lot of explaining.) "So, we drove to the Fish Hatchery to let our turtle live there.  And he is still there, with his friends, playing and getting bigger everyday."
"Can we visit your turtle, Momma?"
"Sure.  Maybe someday."

Someday finally came this week, Wyatt and I made a trip to the Fish Hatchery to see the turtles.  Every turtle he would squeal and ask "Is that your turtle, Momma?"  or "Is he Momma's turtle?"  I would tell him "No, that ones too little." or "No, that one has spots." Until we came upon the outdoor pond with some rather big turtles.  I picked one swimming in the water and started yelling "There he is!!!"  Wyatt got so excited.  It was contagious.  We fed Momma's turtle and watched him swim.  Another little boy came over and Wyatt proudly pointed saying "That's my Momma's turtle."  He didn't really care about the other fish or frogs after that.  He talked about it all the way home and then told the story to Gammy and Pa.  He asks for the turtle story every night and sometimes at nap time too.  But now it ends with our visit to the Fish Hatchery to find that Momma's turtle was happy and swimming with his friends.  He wants to go back already.

The true story is:  Bri and I did find a turtle in a puddle on a bike ride. I changed it to Kari because he sees her more.  It was a pretty big sucker and we brought it home for a little while, took some pictures and I think brought it back to the beach.  I never gave any animal to the Fish Hatchery.  Although when I told Kari, she said that she gave 2 turtles there.  So, I guess the combination of our two stories might work.  Wyatt is going to find out one day that his turtle story was just of my creation and be very upset.  I hope it's not as devestating as the Tooth Fairy or Easter Bunny.

Now Selling On Ebay:

This Saturday post has a story to go along with it.  On Wednesday night (or Thursday morning) I woke up at 5am.  Soaking.  Wet.  My first thought is My God I peed myself.  Upon further investigation the saturated spot seemed to be down by my knees on the opposite side of Wyatt.  Pup's usual sleeping spot.  I investigated some more and found that my bed was soaking wet from the top comforter all the way to the mattress, through the comforter, two sheets and a mattress pad.  The smell test concluded bacon bits.  And Pup's paws were wet and he's giving me this real sheepish look.  The stupid dog Wet MY BED!!  Have you ever heard of a dog that pee's where he sleeps?!?  I jump up, grab his collar, and drag him outside.  Then go back to the bedroom to figure out what I am going to do.  As my luck would have it, the Pup festivities woke Wyatt up, just enough, for him to have to go potty but not enough that he asked me or even so much as lifted his beautiful head off the pillow.  So that leaves me covered in Pup pee, Wyatt covered in Wyatt pee, and the bed sopping from both crime scenes.  I decide that this is just too much and put a sleeping Wyatt on a pillow while I change the sheets around him, in the dark.  He opens his eyes for a millisecond when I changed his PJ's to ask "What happened, Momma?" Oh sweetie, you don't even want to know.

Conclusion:  I am selling Pup on Ebay.  Hell, I will pay for someone to take this dog.  Mom thought this was very funny.  Hilarious!!  I guess this is what I get for opening my bed to a 2 year old and a puppy.

29 Months

Bud,

Your taller then your average 2 year old, the average is 2'10" and you've clocked in at 3'2".  Your also around 30lbs.  You're tall and getting skinny with your bizarre eating habits.  I say bizarre because somedays you'll eat and try anything.  I'll say "You might not like it" when you ask for a bite of my greek salad and you'll respond with "but I want to try some."  And you will and I am so proud of you.  Then there are the other days the you will live entirely off pickles and maybe some water.  I'd like to think its evening out but you are getting skinny.  I made a quick decision to cut your bottles cold turkey.  You have been holding onto those 2, 8oz bottles like they were the source of eternal life.  I felt bad making you get rid of them.  Then finally, something snapped.  You are almost 2 and a half.  It was time to ditch the bottles.  More then time.  So, I stopped giving them to you and you stopped asking for them.  And then I began to think that maybe I was holding onto the habit more then you.  We're getting rid of the binky next.

You graduated from your class at the Y.  We have been going for an entire year.  Only 4 other kids did that and Miss Judy made a big deal out of it.  Your too old to go back to that class now.  I think it served you very well.  It gave you a crash course in learning to play and share, with me being about to coach you.  You ask other kids if they want to play.  "Do you want to play with me?"  And ask if they would like to share your snack.  Then light up when they say yes, turn to me and retell the story like you just proposed.  I'm going to miss those moments when you go it alone in September but I can't wait for the stories you'll tell on our way home.

Dada and I took you on a whirlwind Bronx adventure last friday.  As Dada was driving up from Baltimore, we decided to meet at the Bronx Zoo because you have never been and the weather was amazing.  You haven't seen Dad in about a month and we were walking towards each other.  I stopped the stroller and said "Look who I found at the zoo!"  Your face lit up, then smiled your shy smile whispering "It's Dada." Then hit the ground running.  You had a blast.  And I loved all the babies!!  Of course, in classic Wyatt style, when I asked you what was your favorite animal at the zoo you said "chasing pigeons.....and there was a monorail and a golf cart!"  Seriously.  The elephants, giraffes, monkeys, tigers, alligators, and a billion other animals apparently bore you.  I guess I can never say that life with you is boring.  After the zoo, we found this outdoor garden at a restaurant on City Island in which you had full reign.  You were such a boy; digging in the gravel with your trucks.  Speeding cars along our picnic bench.  It was the perfect ending to an amazing day.

Your vocabulary and memory continues to amaze me.  We sat down for dinner the other night and I was asking questions about your day while you answered them.  You're 2 and a half years old.  Having conversations.  At the dinner table.  Its phenomenal.  And your imagination.  You surprise me everyday. We were playing in our room and you go:
"Look out!!  An osprey's coming."
"An osprey?  What's an osprey?" Of course I know but I wanted to see if you did.
"Mom!?! (with an exasperated sigh) It's a type of bird."
Silly Momma, why didn't I know that?!  Because, of course, my two year old is going to correctly identify an osprey.  It makes me rethink and retrace everything I say to you.  Because your listening, even if it doesn't seem like your listening.

This summer has been kind of lazy so far.  We have been doing day trips.  To the museum.  To the beach with Kari and Lars Christian.  To story-time at the library.  To Mets games.  Play dates with Jack and Jessica.  And dinners at the club.  It feels like I have been home with you a lot lately.  Or maybe I'm just being more productive on our days home together.  I just can't get enough of you.  And from the way you look at me when I come home, you enjoy my company too.   Most days I just can't think of enough adjectives for how amazing you are and how happy you make me.  I am so proud that I get to take even a little credit in how amazing you are.  I am so proud of this little boy you are becoming.

I love you everyday.
Momma