Snow holiday

It turned out to be a good day for a holiday -- we got at least six inches of snow and O and I were hunkered down inside for most of the day. But when he got up from his nap, I thought we needed to get some air. I practically had to drag him outside but I eventually sold him on going out when I suggested we bring the snowball maker he got for Christmas. (It's great, by the way -- today's snow wasn't quite wet enough for good snowball making, but we'll have a ton of fun with it when the snow cooperates.)
Once we got outside, he had a really fun time. He made flaky snowballs, helped me shovel, made a snow angel, and then wanted to make a "Frosty." Here's our handiwork, with a corncob pipe and magic hat made out of leftover Christmas tree branches. We also made a Professor Hinkle (the magician in Frosty) and Frosty's friend Karen, also made of tree branches. He then wanted to make an Owen and dad along with a TV. Hmmm. They got Liverpool FC insignias made out of fir fronds.
After spending about an hour outside, we came in for grapes and cocoa. Maybe I can use that as a bargaining chip the next time I'm trying to get him out in the snow.

Tomorrow

When I was first pregnant with O, I searched for a way to relax myself - to take me to a mental place where I was blissful and not worried. The place I found was familiar - I had inhabited it when I was about 10, when I was obsessed with "Annie." So , throughout that first trimester, I listened to the soundtrack...over and over and over. I guess it shouldn't surprise me that he now loves the songs. Tonight, I had to have "Maybe," "Tomorrow" and "You're Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile" on repeat as we drove home from Target, and he thought it was funny when I made up new lyrics as I got his dinner. ("oh pizza, pizza, I want to eat some pizza, with pineapple on the cheeeeeese.")

Energizer

This is the scene I walked into when I went to pick O up from school the other day: He dribbled a soccer ball, shot it in to the hole of a cushioned tunnel, then did his post-goal celebration, complete with jumping, fist pumping and yelling "I scored a goal!"

One of the teachers shook her head at him and said, "I don't know where he gets so much energy!" I know just what she's thinking -- I don't know how he does it. Right now, it's almost 10 p.m. and he's still stirring around in his bed, trying to fall asleep. Earlier, when we were supposed to be quietly singing in the rocking chair, he was belting out "People in our Neighborhood" from Sesame Street. (And he was doing it with different voices. That's one of his new things -- when he's pretending, he speaks in a lower register or makes his voice scratchy to be a man, and a little gurgle when he's pretending to be a baby.) Tonight he's quiet in there , but some nights there's singing and talking to his stuffed animals as he tries to settle down. I guess that two-hour nap today did its job for the afternoon, but charged his batteries for the whole evening.

I'll be interested to see how things change when he's out of his crib and in to the new toddler bed we bought for him...


He's been doing this "pretend to be a baby" thing a lot lately, including tonight after his bath, when he was lying on our bed as I toweled him off. But then, as I tried to get his pajama bottoms on, I pulled him to standing. He threw his arms around my neck to give me a big hug, and after I told him I loved him, I got an "I love you, too" back. And so while it's fun to remember what he was like as a baby, having an expressive, loving 2-year-old is pretty incredible.

P.S. He managed to fall asleep while I was writing this.

Reflections

The begging to watch "Curious George" started the minute we got to the car this afternoon. I mentioned that we were going to go home and make dinner and Owen said, "Can I watch something while you make dinner?" Then it was repeated, about two dozen times. I made the decision that we weren't going to watch anything and I'd try to find some alternative entertainment. So, after dinner Owen and I spent about an hour tonight going through the old blog posts looking at his pictures and watching videos -- over and over and over again. I told him stories about what he was doing in them, and he loved it. I think he was most amazed at the things he can do now that he couldn't when he was a baby -- roll over, talk, sing.

After his bath and some stories, he and I were sitting in his rocking chair to quiet down for the evening. I looked down at how big he's getting and realized he's not going to be able to sit in my lap much longer, so we stayed there for a long time tonight -- he was unusually cuddly and still (rocking is typically a squirmy affair), so we sang songs and talked for longer than usual. Aside from the moment he sees me when I arrive at school to pick him up -- he shouts a hearty "Hi Mom!," drops whatever he's holding, runs to me and says, "Let's go home!" - talking with him and remembering the best pieces of our time together is my favorite part of the day.

Little man

After I posted last night's blog, I went back and looked at all the old blog posts I'd written, and as I got to those from when he was a baby, Colin asked me, "Are you going to start crying now?" A few tears were shed, I'll admit, but you can't help it, especially when watching the ones with videos of him giggling (he still belly laughs that way).

And as I read back through the old posts, I found some threads that are still relevant today, and I'll revisit those. But this evening I've been reflecting a lot on my Grandpa Maher, who would have been 94 today. I wish he had gotten to meet our kids -- he would have gotten such a kick out of them. When O senses a new audience and starts to ham it up, I know he got that from his Grandpa Bernie. And every time O is asked who is his favorite baseball player is, and he yells "Joe Mauer!" I can see my grandpa's smile. So, even though he didn't get to meet O, little pieces of him lives on.

As for the little man, he becomes more grown up every day. After I picked him up, we went to Sport Clips for a haircut and despite crying, "I don't want a haircut!" through the whole thing, he was a good sport and did really well. (My coat is covered in hair, but oh well.) It helps that the place is plastered with hockey sticks, soccer balls, and pictures of football, baseball and Bucky Badger. He does great when we have lots of distractions.

Yes, dear, I'm very happy

I know I said last year I was going to blog more, but this year I really mean it. I have a warning, however: If you don't like stories about O, you can stop reading. It's really going to be dedicated to the funny, insightful, sweet things he says every day. Another blogger I read says she writes a blog about her kids and prints out the previous year's entries on their birthdays. So, even though blogs are soooo 2006, my mom doesn't want to join Facebook and misses out on a lot of the stories, and I want to have a better record of O's childhood, because it's speeding by.

We just enjoyed a nearly two week break together and we seem to have hit some stretch of the third year where he (temporarily?) dropped the "terrible" part of the terrible twos and has been a ton of fun. Tonight, even though Mr. No Nap was bordering on deliriously tired, he wanted to play a game where he was a baby and thought it was hysterical that we were talking to him and carrying him like a baby. It sure made the bath a lot easier; for the last month, he's pitched a fit and splashed us away when we tried to wash his hair. Instead, he giggled away and cooed like a infant as I lathered him up. (I seem to remember him not liking the bath at some stage of infancy, but I'm not going to remind him of that. I will remind him that last night -- out of the blue -- he declared that I am smart.)

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I have been less stressed out over the holidays, but in our best moments, he keeps turning to ask me, "Are you happy, Mom?" with his big grin. Yes, I tell him, I am terrifically happy.