I want to catch you Daddy

Brighton's newest thing is jumping from footstools. Marcy bought him this little footstool that he loves to stand on. When he climbs up he says "Catch you Daddy" and then says sit there. I proceed to sit, like the obedient dad, and he jumps a little and falls into my arms. Then he wants to catch me. So I sand on the footstool, instruct my baby to sit on the floor and then I pretend to jump and fall on him, which is really I step down off of the footstool and then in slow motion I fall to the floor and give the little guy a hug. Giggles follow from mom, Brighton and dad. After I catch him, he stands in my lap and says "Higher Dad". Which means I hold him by his knees and hoist him up in to the air. He giggles non-stop and up and down we go.

Every day at work I can't wait to go home to play with my little guy.

Dad

Rain, Rain, go away

It's been raining all week long and I'm fearing the worst.  We'll never get to experience the splendor of an Iowa Autumn.  The smell of burning leaves, the smell of freshly fallen leaves, apples, pumpkin picking, fall bonfires.  

With every day that passes, I'm confronted with the fact that my little boy is becoming a ... well ... little boy.  He no longer likes to cuddle (except in the mornings when we have about 20 minutes to get out the door).  He hates to sit in the car and is no longer a passive passenger.  He has (gulp) real opinions regarding food, activities, toys, US.  He is also becoming very kind and sweet.  Giving his puppy (Feebee) hugs and gentle pats on the head.  He actively says "thanks mom" whenever I do something for him.  And lets face it, Andrew and I still giggle and feel that twinge of delight when we see his silly signature run.  

So I guess in a way, I'm now seeing the seasons of the year like the months and years of my son's life.  Spring is brand new, exciting, fresh.  Summer is steady, gets hot and unbearable sometimes, but we plow through it and watch the growth.  In the fall, we rest for a piece, we enjoy the fruits of our labors of the summer, and we bare down and get ready for the cold winter when we sit still, we reminisce, we hope for good weather, we enjoy the huge snowflakes falling on our tongues while we ache for the summer sun.  That is, right after we spend hours shooting down sledding hills on disc sleds and then come in for a cup of hot cocoa.  

I love Iowa.  I know that there are so many times I say I'd move in a heart beat, but I really think I would miss seeing the seasons and the earth change right before my eyes.  It's predictable.  You know that come April and May, you'll be fighting planters on the road.  In May and June you'll see the bright green of corn and bean buds against the dark black fertile Iowa soil.  By July you're measuring to make sure that the corn is knee high by the fourth of July (for a good crop).  Finally in September the corn browns and the yellow ears peek out behind the silks and husks.  Then in October against Iowa's beautiful sunset, you see the combines readying the harvest.  It's still.  It's dependable.  I never appreciated the steadiness of Iowa until I moved to rural Iowa and it was in my backyard.  I hope Brighton can see it the same way someday.  And when he has bonfires in fall and hot cocoa after sledding and sees those first green signs of spring against the black dirt, he tells his kids how wonderful it is to experience the seasons here at home.  In Iowa.

Tarbuts & Donods

I've had a number of blog-worthy days here this last week, but I decided that I'd perhaps write about a few things that I've...um...observed.  

Day One:  We went to the pumpkin patch with Brighton's preschool, and I realized that I most certainly could NOT do what preschool teachers and daycare providers do.  

Day Two:  Being old does not automatically make you handicapped...and therefore you shouldn't use the handicapped bathroom stall.  As far as I'm concerned, if you're shopping with a stroller or a toddler in a shopping cart, that IS your handicap and you're fully entitled to use the largest stall in the restroom.  

Day Three:  I walk into a store, "toss" my child into a shopping cart, ask someone where the restrooms are, and assume I can make a B-line for the bathroom (after my quad espresso + double tall latte) child and purse in cart, racing the restroom.  I don't expect 1. to be told I can't take the cart into the restroom because A. it's empty and B. the clerk tells me it is a "fire hazard."  (huh?!)  When I walk into the hallway then the bathroom, it's cluttered with rolling carts and racks and basically CRAP.  But I have to take the time (while almost wetting my pants) removing said child and purse from the EMPTY shopping cart, to make my way to the bathroom.  So...my cart is a fire hazard, (in case of fire my cart would block traffic...) but all the other crap in the bathroom/storage area isn't? 

************

Day Three almost over:  It's time to go home and Brighton is starting to get whiney.  I understand, he's tired, hasn't had a great nap, and it's going to be a long ride home.  We pass the mall and all I hear from the back seat  "Tarbuts!" "Tarbuts, Mom!"  And the rest goes a little something like this:

"What?" I say.

"Tarbuts, tarbuts!" *you fool-don't you speak English?*

"You want Starbucks?"

"Yeaas..." *duh? didn't you just hear me say that?*

I start to pull into the turning lane to go through the drive through because honestly, I'm thinking I can't make 

it through the next 30 minutes if I don't have some *Tarbuts* myself...but then...

"No! No Tarbuts"

"You don't want Starbucks now?"

"nooooo (whine), Donods."

"What?"

"Donads!" *good God woman, clean out your ears!*

"McDonalds?"

"Yes, Donads!" 

"No honey, we're going to eat pretty soon, no McDonalds tonight.  I'll make you some Starbucks when we get home."

"Nooooooo...Tarbuts"

*sigh*  I anticipate a looooooooong and whiney ride home.  About 1 mile from our drive, I starts wailing.  I 

admit, I lost my temper and told him "STOP WHINING!" (In my defense, it was a constant releasing air from a balloon sound all the way home...for THIRTY MINUTES...that mmnnmmnnmmnnmmnn...like a hungry puppy minus the drool) at which time I promptly pulled the car over onto the shoulder and in leu of ramming my vehicle straight into the first telephone pole I saw,  I saw his big tears, my heart softened, and I asked, "Did Mommy hurt your feelings?" (oh don't go gettin' all self righteous with me...you've ALL lost your temper on some cute little kid, you know you have!)

"Yeeeeeeeeeeeees..." *as he wipes away his big crocodile tears*

"Oh babe,Mom's sorry.  She shouldn't have yelled.  Can you hold out for just a few more minutes until we get home?  And please stop whining?  Sing a song!" *do something other than whine before my head explodes!*

"Tay"  *sniffle sniffle*

"Tay." I repeat.

Finally we get home and he sees daddy's car in the driveway and perks up.  Daddy greets him at the door of the car and rescues him.  

We spent the rest of the night together watching "pendins" (Happy Feet) &"meemo" (Finding Nemo) and it turned out to be a good night afterall.  

Finally.

Is it bad?

Is it bad that I hate dinnertime?  Feeding Brighton is an absolute nightmare anymore.  He usually doesn't like what we make (godforbid he eat meat...) and it takes him an excruciatingly long looooooonnnnnnnnggg time to eat.  Forget that he tosses most items out to the dog, but then he just plays and will put things in his mouth only to spit them out when they're chewed to a mush...how is he growing?  I just don't get it.

Writers Block

First of all I have to apologize for my posts lately.  Now I know how writers block feels!  Hopefully one of these days my creative writing skills will once again become apparent...but until then, I guess we'll have to just keep plugging away!!!

Yesterday I filled out a form for Brighton's new preschool called "all about me."  It got me thinking about all the new things Brighton is doing and discovering.  

I'll start with his new preschool.  He LOVES it!  Miss Mary has centers for science, art, language, dramatic play (which Andrew thinks is hilarious), and math.  They have free time during the day, he gets regular snacks and a great lunch, never comes home hungry, goes on field trips and she's even invited me to bring him next Friday to their field trip to the pumpkin patch.  I guess this is what REAL good preschools are, but it's such an eye opening experience for me to be able to drop him off and not worry!!  I actually almost cried Wednesday when I left him but it was because she was rounding them up to go on a field trip to the Children's Museum and watching Brighton toddle along with the other kids and me knowing he was going to have fun and be safe and all that jazz just got to me.

Another new thing, Coffee.  Brighton sees mom making espresso every morning and occasionally, I'll make him a steamer.  That is steamed milk with syrup.  So the other day, he looks at me and says "I want coffee mom!"  My reply went something like this "You want coffee?"  Yeah, I know.  Pretty uneventful.  And I proceeded to make him a vanilla steamer.  For the next three days.  Yesterday I made him a raspberry steamer and he looked up at me after taking a drink and said "Is this coffee?"  "Yep!" I said, "it's raspberry coffee, Daddy's favorite!"  Wherein he proceeded to drink it hesitantly.  Well, I  better be off. I have to get this house prepared for the Gazette photographer who is coming out to take a pic of my gourds...

We'll be in the paper on Saturday the 13th of October!!  Check it out!

Supper

So tonight I made supper.  No big feat for many moms, but a big one for me!  I actually cooked a meal.  Here is what I made.  It was nummy.  I substituted chicken breast for the pork and Brighton REALLY liked it (for once).  I seem to make a meal of this type every fall.  

Brighton said it was "dood."  I did too.  But now we're snacking on "pips" and Happy Feet Fruit Chews.  Yeah well,our healthy evening ended approximately 7 PM.  Tomorrow night we're going to have dinner at the Solon American Legion.  YAY!