Sam's Big Hiatus

I'm pointing out the obvious here. December, with all its hustle and bustle, is not proving to be a great month for blogging! We're only going to get busier as the month goes on. I don't plan on posting again until after Christmas. At that point, there will be some changes with the blog.

May this season bless all of you!

Thankful

Just a few of today's blessings:

-sleeping in
-reading books
-watching Thanksgiving specials
-taking naps
-eating all of our traditional favorites
-walking to the park

And we haven't even had dessert yet! I hope everyone reading this feels as thankful as I do today.

Samuel Griswold

I know, it has been over a week. We have been unbelievably busy! On top of all of the appointments and family gatherings, I have been decorating the house for Christmas. It goes against everything I believe to decorate before Thanksgiving. However, our December is going to be so crazy I was worried the decorating would never get done. So it was now or never!

Part of decorating for Christmas includes watching Christmas movies. On Monday night we all settled in to decorate the tree as we watched a heartwarming classic - National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation.

It is so fun to see Sam's demented sense of humor grow. When Clark was on the ladder stapling his sleeve to the house Sam couldn't stop laughing. Sam loved it when Clark slid off the roof, caught himself on the rain gutter, and eventually fell into the front bushes.

As it turns out, Sam is a fan of classic slapstick. When Clark pulled down the attic stairs and was knocked flat on his back when they hit him in the face, Sam started to get hysterical. Once in the attic, there is the scene where Clark does the old step-on-the-end-of-a-board-and-get-smacked-in-the-face routine. It happens three times in a row, and Sam was just beside himself. He was laughing so hard he could hardly open his eyes to watch.

I have a feeling the rest of our Christmas movies just aren't going to be able to stand up to Chevy Chase's shtick!

Grandpa Karma

As the baby of my family, I've always had a lot of attention. It carried through to adulthood - until Sam was born. Since he's arrived I am simply his chauffeur and public relations rep.

I've gotten used to it but it is still a little annoying. Grandpa Mark, trying to find a time we could meet for lunch, explained, "I would really like to see Sam." Once we set a date, he said happily, "I'm really looking forward to seeing Sam." Sigh.

Well, this morning I let Sam know about our lunch plans.

"Sam, we're going to go have lunch with Grandpa Mark!" I enthused.

"NO," he replied emphatically. "No Grandpa Mark. I have lunch with Tina."

HA!

Rough Waters

I think the only way to tell this story is to just jump right in.

Last August Eric, Sam and I spent a fun long weekend at the cabin. Eric took Sam out in the boat on our first day. Sam loved it! I am afraid of water and so I couldn't go along. After the first day, we were either too busy or the weather was too wet for them to go out again.

On the last day of our trip I was packing and cleaning up. Eric saw that the sun was shining and the lake was calm. I agreed that it would be easier for me to clean by myself. Eric put our smallest life jacket on Sam and they headed out in the boat.

As I puttered around, making beds and folding clothes, I saw that the sky was getting dark. I glanced out at the lake and didn't see the boat. I always worry too much and so I called Eric on his cell phone. He answered, cheerfully told me that they had just started back from the other side of the lake, and they were having a great time.

I forced myself to stop worrying. Then the rain started. It was a sudden, violent downpour. I stood at the window and watched and watched for the boat. I couldn't see it. Twice I went down to the edge of the lake to look. The rain was so heavy, I was soaked within seconds of being outside. I had to shield my eyes to get a good look at the lake, and still I couldn't see their boat. I called Eric's phone over and over and never got an answer.

I kept going back inside, telling myself that I always overreact. I watched the minutes turn into an hour as I waited. Finally, standing at the window, I saw a small movement through the neighbor's trees out on the lake. I recognized our boat. My mind went blank with fear when I saw that no one was in it.

I ran back to the lake, slipping and sliding down the steep embankment. I had a brief moment of relief when I saw Sam's head rise from inside the boat, and then fear again when I saw for certain that he was the only one in it. Then the wind pushed the boat to the side and I saw Eric in the water, one hand on the boat, swimming and pushing its heavy form ahead of him.

I splashed out into the lake. I could hear Sam crying over the wind and the rain. As I got closer I saw that he was shivering uncontrollably and there was absolute terror in his little face. I got close enough to drag the boat the rest of the way to shore. Exhausted, Eric could hardly make it the last twenty feet. We made it back into the cabin and Eric told me what had happened.

They were on their way back when the rain started. Eric had no problem rowing through that until the wind picked up. He hadn't made it very far from the other side of the lake before Sam stood up right when a gust of wind hit the boat. It was enough to throw both Eric and Sam into the water.

As best as he can remember, Eric was underwater for two or three seconds. He said it felt like forever. The worst part was when he came up to the surface, gasping for air, and he didn't see Sam. Then Sam's life jacket did its job and Eric saw him bob to the surface. Luckily, the boat hadn't completely flipped over and was now floating right-side up. This is the part I still can't figure out. Somehow, as he tread water fully clothed, Eric was able to lift Sam up with one arm and throw him over the side of the boat. Sam weighs 40 pounds without wearing a life jacket and being soaking wet. Eric has always been strong, but I can't imagine how he was able to do that.

There was no way for Eric to get into the boat and he'd lost both of the oars, anyway. His only option was to push the boat to shore. He'd make it about 10 feet, swimming and pushing as hard as he could, and the wind would push him back another five feet. He called for help over and over but no one could hear him over the storm. They were the only ones on the lake. It didn't take long for his legs to go numb but he managed to continue forward.

They did make it back. We dried off, finished packing the car, and went home. But to this day I feel a clutching in my chest if the image of both of them in the water works its way to the front of my mind. It terrifies me to think of how easily I could have lost my family.

Why am I talking about this now? I write these posts for fun, and to keep grandparents up-to-date, but my main purpose is to write all of this for Sam. More than anything, this is a record of his life. I'd feel somehow dishonest if I left out such a major event. Also, Sam still thinks about it. Just last night we looked at a picture of a boat in one of his books. "Boat in the water!" Sam said. "And in the rain. But Sam's okay and Dad's okay."

Yes, buddy, you are both okay. I haven't let a day go by since without thanking God for bringing both of you back to me.

Memories

I have a really, really great memory. I don't remember useful things (such as anything ever learned in any class) but I can tell you what I was wearing that night in 2001 when I saw that band for the first time. And if it was snowing and what was playing on the radio on the way home. I've always considered it a curse. I'm beginning to wonder if this is another trait Sam and I have in common. He's surprised me a few times by blurting out things we did months and months ago.

Last night we were in the car after dark. Sam was in the backseat chattering away when he suddenly paused and said, "I see Bay."

"You see Bay? Where?" I asked.

"The lights there," Sam answered.

I couldn't figure out what he was talking about until I looked up. There, on all the streetlights, were lit-up Christmas decorations. Could he really remember last Christmas at Grandma Barb's house? He wasn't even two then! And he is spot on - Christmas decorations are one of the first things that come to mind when I think of Grandma Barb.

I kept talking to Sam about the lights. Sure enough, he insisted that the holly and snowmen made him see Bay. What a sweet kid!

It Was Really Cold

Yesterday morning Sam and I decided to share an orange. Our refrigerator is very cold and the oranges had been on the coldest shelf. Sam bit into his piece. His eyes grew big and he shivered. "Brrr!" he said.

"They're cold," I agreed.

"Yeah, cold!" he said.

"REALLY cold!" I added.

"So cold, I want a hat!" Sam enthused.

He never fails to surprise me!

Sam The Critic

On Friday evening, Eric and I braved the snow (!) to take Sam out to his first movie. We saw Madagascar 2. Sam had seen the first one in passing and had enjoyed the animals. This one was a lot scarier than we had anticipated but Sam seemed to think it was okay. He wasn't heavy enough to hold down his seat so he spent most of the movie folded into it, his knees on his chest, watching the action between his shoes.

Trying to get Sam's opinion of the movie, this morning we had the following conversation:

Mom: Sam, remember the movie we went to?
Sam The Critic: Jackie?
Mom: No, Mom and Dad took you.
STC: Oh. Yeah, movie.
Mom: What did you like about the movie?
STC: Lion, giraffe, zebra, and T-Rex.
Mom: T-Rex?
STC: Well, hippos.
Mom: What?
STC: Lion, giraffe, zebra, and hippo.
Mom: Ah. What part of the movie was funny?
STC: Funny...laugh! Ha ha ha ha ha!
Mom: Yes. What made you laugh?
STC: more ha ha noises, this time with his tongue hanging out
Mom: Okay, what didn't you like about the movie?
STC: I liked the movie.
Mom: I know, but was there something about it you didn't like?
STC: I liked the movie.

I gave up the interview, disappointed. But really, what was I expecting? My two-year old to wax poetic about the psychotic penguins?

Now that we know Sam is a fan of the cinema, I am dreading the long winter just a little less. There's nothing like a matinee to break up a long day!

November 4, 2008

A letter to my son:

By the time you are studying American history, yesterday will be old news. You and your classmates won't remember a time when this country had yet to elect an African-American president.

Trust me, little dude, yesterday was a big deal. As you and I ate cereal at our kitchen table, Americans got in line to wait for three hours to place their votes. It was the first time in a voting booth for many of them. While we made snowmen with your Play Doh and danced to the Wiggles voters were turning out in record numbers.

You were there when your dad and I placed our votes. You were in the elementary school gym, sitting next to your dad, as we both confidently filled in the ovals next to Barack Obama's name. You were there as voters and volunteers chatted happily, no matter who they were voting for. Even in our tiny voting location, people were excited.

You were in bed by the time we turned on the TV to watch the election results come in. You were still peacefully sleeping, wearing dinosaur pajamas, when your dad and I heard, "Ladies and gentlemen, if I may interrupt...Barack Obama is the next President of the United States." I cried, little man. I cried for every child in this country who will now KNOW that there is no limit to their potential. I cried for the elderly men and women who never believed they'd see an African-American president in their lifetime. And I cried for me. I am just one of the many people across this country who feels that finally my voice has been heard.

This country is in rough shape. Barack Obama is just one man and I can't imagine how he'll be able to meet all of our expectations. All we can do is hope for the best. And today, for the first time in a long time, we have all been given the chance to hope.

Yes, Sam. We can.

It's A Wiggly World

Yesterday I got a text from Eric that he was on his way home from work, and he was "bringing home some toys for Sam that will make his head explode."

Funny, Eric never mentioned what they would do to MY head.

His co-worker gave him two big bags of Wiggles-themed toys. Sam is a BIG fan of their music. He doesn't really watch their show but we listen to the CDs every day and his Wiggles books are some of his favorites. There were so many toys we pulled a few out to give to Sam and are saving the rest for Christmas (or a desperate day).

Sam now has a big mat that he can step on to play the same four Wiggles songs over and over and over. He also has four dolls of the Wiggles characters...which play the same four songs over and over and over. For nearly two hours last night Sam sang and danced.

I just got the new toys out for Sam again and he is so happy. As I've been writing this, I've been treated to the talent of Greg, Anthony, Murray, and Jeff.

There is no saving me now.

Overthinking It

This morning as I was in my room getting ready Sam was keeping me company. He picked up a nickel off of my nightstand. "Money!" he said, and started to dash off with it.

"Sam!" I laughed. "Where are you going with that money?"

"Dad money," he replied.

"That's Mom's money, buddy!" I answered.

"No," he shook his head. "Money is Dad's."

I can look at this in a few ways:

A) The nickel was, in fact, Eric's. Sam saw Eric put it on the nightstand.
B) Sam is two and very few of the things he says actually make sense.
C) Due to my decision to be a stay-at-home mom, Sam has started to believe that men are solely responsible for earning and having money. Women do not have money.

I haven't had a lot of mom guilt lately so it should come as no surprise that I automatically chose option C.

It is so important to me that my kids don't see their gender as a defining attribute. That women can be construction workers and men can be at-home dads. (My husband is a nurse, for pete's sake.) That one of the greatest blessings of living in this country is having the freedom to make the choice that is best for one's self and family.

Children learn what they see. I work a very part-time job right now and will eventually return to work full-time. But in the meantime, how do I show Sam that a life's work is more than a paycheck? That how our family operates is just one of the many ways moms, dads, and kids can live and be happy?

Ugh. I'm not going to be able to stop worrying about this and I'm having trouble even pinpointing just what my concern is.

I blame the time change.

Happy Halloween!

Here it is, the morning of the 31st, and Sam is already done with all of his Halloween activities. I never planned on taking him trick-or-treating so we have kept our eyes open for other fun events.

Last weekend Eric and I took Sam to the Dover-Eyota Fall Festival. Sam was able to dress up and played every game there. He even did a book walk. He was walking around and around with nine other kids, the youngest of which was about six or seven. When the music stopped the bigger kids would grab every chair around him, forcing Sam to run around the circle looking for an empty seat. It was pretty cute but we were definitely holding up the game. Finally the women running the game rigged it and Sam won his book.

Yesterday ended up being our big Halloween event! Grandpa Mark called to invite us trick-or-treating at his work. Once again I wrestled Sam into his costume and Grandpa Mark picked us up. The trick-or-treating was amazing! I hadn't expected it to be so overwhelming. It only took Sam a few minutes to figure out that he needed to look for the offices with a pumpkin sign on the door. There, he'd saunter in. "Hi," he'd greet the person inside. "I a pirate."

Over and over Sam was allowed to pick out a piece of candy to put in his bag. The bag got so heavy, I decided to skip the last few hallways. I couldn't imagine what we'd do with that much more candy! In addition to the trick-or-treating, there was an activity room set up with Halloween-themed coloring books for each of the kids. We sat and had cookies and punch while Sam colored the first few pages.

Once again, Grandpa Mark came to the rescue with his camera.

This drives me crazy. Doesn't he look thrilled to be putting on his costume? I had to beg, yell, and threaten every time he had to put it on. Once on, he was so happy. He drives me nuts.

Here he is - Captain Sam. Note the shiny sword and earring.

May everyone's day be filled with as much candy as possible!

She's No Lady

About a week ago, I mentioned Sam's love of my vintage Fisher-Price Western Town. Unfortunately I have somehow lost most of its accessories. There used to be several cowboys and a sheriff, a stagecoach, and two horses. All I have left of the original set is the Western Lady and the Indian Chief.

The lady has quite the little body on her - note the cinched, plastic-peg waist. She has a jaunty little green hat and a matching green carpet bag. The chief is a moderately offensive depiction of some unnamed Native American tribe. He even has a prominent brow painted on his little face. While history tells us that these two would not have travelled in the same social circles, Sam has given them a (rather romantic) growing relationship.

He calls them Dude and Lady. Dude and Lady scamper all over the town together. They talk to the animals, go in and out of the barn, and give each other rides in the horseless wagon. More than once I have walked in on Sam holding the two of them in a plastic embrace, hugging and kissing and telling each other "I love you."

I don't have the heart to tell Sam that Dude and Lady's relationship will never be allowed in their old western town. Instead I smile at them and whisper, "You're just ahead of your time."

Where Does The Time Go?

Our days are flying by. Sam and I have a quick morning together. We eat, get ready, and play with his animals. Then we're out the door to Dusty's house and I go to work. We're back home in the early afternoon for more playing and chores. Suddenly I have to think about dinner, and Sam's bedtime routine starts between 6:00 and 6:30. The last two months have been a blur!

That's why I haven't been actively posting lately. I honestly believe I've posted in the last day or two, and then am shocked to find out nearly a week has gone by!

Right now I'm off to get ready for work once again...but I am hoping to carve out some time for blogging very soon!

Mind Boggle-ing

I don't know where I get these things. I am a big fan of garage sales, so I suppose I picked this up on one scavenging trip or another. Sam has a Boggle, Jr. game and loves to play it! I, too, love this game as I don't have to play it with him. I hate to say things like that but really - some days I wonder if I'm going to come out of raising my kids with any brain function at all.

I don't worry about Sam's brain function. He whips through card after card, copying the letters. Each card has a three-or-four letter word along with a picture. Sam's job is to find the corresponding letters on the letter cubes. I know that he is simply matching letters and then naming the item in the picture, but I still love to watch him do it.

"Okay. B-O-A-T. Where T? Here A! Okay...here O! Hmmm...oh, HERE B. B-O-A. Need T. Got it! B-O-A-T. Boat!"

If someone wasn't watching him do it, it would sound a lot like he was reading. I'm so proud of this little guy!

Thank You, Hunks Of Plastic

Thank you, Julie Aigner-Clark. I'm not quite sure what your role in the Baby Einsten company is, but every book and toy claims to have been inspired by you. At three weeks old, Sam would lay in your activity gym for hours at a time. As soon as he was too old for the gym, I started putting him in your exersaucer. He would sit in that thing and play for an hour at a time - two or three times a day! Your bright colors and slightly terrifying characters got me through the first six months of Sam's life. Thank you.

Thank you, Fisher-Price. You created something special when you made the A-Z Learning Zoo. Sam loved lining up the animals and reading the letters on their chests. Because of you, my son knows what a urial is. He matched those animals to their letters on the mat so many times. I was able to watch several movies - uninterrupted - during the first weeks this zoo was in our house. Thank you.

Thank you, Target, for carrying an affordable train table the month Sam turned two. I never would have spent several hundred dollars on a table and train sets. Your reasonable prices brought the Little Tree train sets into our lives. Sam still plays at that table for hours on end. He drives trains, rearranges the tracks, and races his Matchbox cars. The sides of the table are decorated with stickers. If I can't find Sam, nine times out of ten he is in his room, quietly amusing himself at that table. Thank you.

And finally, thank you Grandma Barb and Grandpa Mark. About 25 years ago, you gave me the Fisher-Price Western Town. For any number of unknown reasons I have held on to that toy. It has now been passed on to Sam. I think the Western Town has made Sam happier than the rest of his toys combined. He doesn't sit and play for hours - he sits and plays for days. My recent addition of a $5 bag of animals from Target has cemented this toy into Sam's routine. Thank you.

Sam sits at the kitchen table playing furiously. "Hi, horse. You go in barn? Raining? Too wet? Yes, you go in barn. Oh, hi, mama cow. Where baby cow? In grass? Okay. Baby cow in the grass. Bunny, you go down slide. Go down. Whee! Kay, bunny? You okay? Kay. Sheep, where mama sheep? Baaa! Baaa! Oh no! Puma! Ahhhh! Mama sheep okay." (I have to admit I'm alarmed by the puma. It comes and threatens the animals at least once a day. There is no plastic puma - only the one in Sam's imagination - but it seems to pose quite a threat to his farm.)

Bless you, toys that will never decompose. As far as I'm concerned, you have earned the right to outlive us all.

The Pumpkin Patch

Yesterday was a beautiful (although a little warm) fall day, so Eric and I took Sam to the pumpkin patch. This place is really huge - we saw a lot more than pumpkins!

Sam had a blast crawling in and out of the miniature town and sitting in every single play tractor. I think he tried every slide there and played in both water and sand activity areas. We did not do the corn maze, as the very idea of them just terrifies me.

Sam's favorite part of the farm was feeding the animals. We put quarter after quarter into the little machines, filling his hands with corn. He dumped it down a tube and the chickens pecked away at it. In the goat pen, a big lazy goat just sat at the end of a tube with his mouth open. He caught everything that was sent down and chomped away. Sam thought that was hilarious and fed him most of his corn.

After all of the fun we took a tractor ride out to the field to pick a pumpkin. Sam likes really gross pumpkins. He chose one that from one angle was round and orange. As soon as it was turned we could see that one entire side was flat and green. It could best be described as an inverted pyramid. The rind was so thick and distorted we didn't think he could even carve it. I distracted Sam as Eric hid it out in the field. We then picked a big, round pumpkin for Sam to carve this week. So sue us.

I just now called to him in the next room to ask him what his favorite part was. "Goats!" he yelled back.

Really, aren't goats what Halloween is all about?

Why, I Oughtta...

I don't always make the best parenting choices. Sometimes we skip Sam's bath. Sometimes we watch TV when we should be reading. And more often than not, I forget I'm talking to the equivalent of a tape recorder with a playback button.

When Sam and I are being silly there is a fair amount of threat done on my part. As my voice gets more menacing, I repeat, "Sam, play with the horse! YOU PLAY WITH THAT HORSE!" Sam thinks it's hilarious (because it is) and always ends up with hiccups from laughing too hard.

Yesterday I was sitting on the couch reading and Sam asked me to go play cars with him. I told him I would in just a few minutes. He asked again, and I again I said I'd be there in a few minutes. Clenching his teeth and shaking his fist, he said, "MaMA! You play cars!"

I was so shocked I burst out laughing. He wasn't being mean or naughty at all. He meant it to be silly and was doing a dead-on impression of me (and Jackie Gleason).

One of these days, Sam...one of these days!

So Close To Normal

Normal: Sam is fascinated by Grandpa Mark's iPhone.

Not normal: Sam can pull up and page through pictures on Grandpa Mark's iPhone.

Normal: The other day at Wal-Mart, Sam picked up a Matchbox car and asked if he could have it. I said no and he put it back.

Not normal: Passing the electronics section, Sam spotted an iPhone and began pleading to bring it home. An iPhone. For a two-year old.

If I wasn't caving on a Matchbox car, he certainly wasn't getting an iPhone for that day's treat.

Aim Higher, Sam

A couple days ago Eric and I took Sam to a little pumpkin farm. It wasn't a huge spectacle but Sam enjoyed the hay bale maze and rows of orange pumpkins.

The farm was selling a wide variety of vegetables and apples and Sam was impressed. We took a quick swing through the small shop before we went out to choose a pumpkin.

Sam picked up the first pumpkin he saw. "Is that the pumpkin you want to bring home?" I asked him.

"No," he replied. "One apple."

We told him we would get him an apple and he continued to look at the pumpkins. Every time he found one he liked, we tried to take it with us.

"No," Sam said every time. "No punkin. One apple."

We couldn't convince him that he could have both a pumpkin and an apple and eventually gave up. We went back to the shop and picked out what we wanted. Sam got his one apple and merrily chomped away at it the whole way home.

He's easy to please!

There Are No Fire Trucks At Grandpa's House

Yesterday Grandpa Mark told me that local fire stations were hosting their open houses. Considering how much Sam loves fire trucks, I knew we'd be going. It didn't start until 6:00, which is very close to bedtime, but we decided to make an exception.

The exact plans were up in the air all day so I didn't want to mention it to Sam. Once I was pretty sure we were going, I told him we were going to have fun and we were going to see Grandpa Mark but I didn't offer any more details. Sam, of course, assumed we were going to Grandpa Mark's house and was delighted.

Sam and I had our shoes on when Eric got home from work. Eric ate a quick dinner and then we zipped off to the fire house. We met Grandpa Mark and James in the parking lot and went inside.
We walked right into the huge garage where three fire trucks were parked. Several large men milled around in various stages of dress in uniform. We were greeted and one man offered Sam a red hat to wear and another gave him a sticker for his coat.

It all sounds fun, right? Well, my kid was so confused. He was tired, a bit overwhelmed, and a little shocked by this turn of events. He refused to go near the trucks and started to cry. Really cry! Eric had to hold him for several minutes as we both tried to explain to him what was going on. We asked him if he wanted to look at the trucks, and he said, "NO! Too big!" After looking around in bewilderment for another moment, he asked me, "Where's Tina?"

Overwhelmed or not, Sam is still Sam, and he was able to turn it around. Within minutes he was cheerfully going along for a tour of the fire house and climbing in and out of trucks. Once he understood what was going on, he had a blast. He loved the big tires on the trucks and watched the other kids try to spray the hose. He even waved and happily said good-bye to the firemen as we left.

Grandpa Mark took this picture of James and Sam. This is when Sam was feeling confident, and he still looks a little confused!

I don't like surprises, either. From now on, I'm going to let Sam in on our big plans!

Chutes of Death

Sam really wants to play games. He loves game boards and all of the little pieces. However, a lot of game rules are still too advanced for him. On Saturday Eric's sister Shannan brought over two Thomas the Train games for Sam. He was so excited and kept begging me to "play Thomas," but they're not something he'd understand yet.

This morning he was so bummed about not playing Thomas. Then - aha! - I remembered that we have Chutes and Ladders. He has to spin an arrow (check), read the number (check), and count that number of spaces (check!). I only had to explain it once before we happily played away.

Right away it looked like he was going to win. I thought that was great, because then I'd be done. Then he landed on a slide. He started over. Then I landed on a slide. I started over. We climbed up and slid down that board for ages before he finally got tired of it and left. I almost finished it by myself, just to prove to the game that at some point, it would HAVE to end.

I need to stop having great ideas.

My Little Carb Addict

As I start to write this, I'm realizing that I have done a lot of posts about food. Hmmm...I'll worry about that later.

Sam loves bread. White bread, wheat bread, bagels, hot dog buns...he loves it. It is the only thing he asks for at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Sometimes I can get away with a little peanut butter or lunch meat along with it, but he just wants bread. I can't count the number of times I've simply pulled a slice out of the bag and handed it to him for his afternoon snack.

Recently we were grocery shopping and I threw a loaf into the cart. "BREAD!" Sam cried. He snatched it up and hugged it to himself, singing, "Bread bread bread! Bread bread bread!"

I can't imagine what the people around me thought. Wouldn't a child have to be half-starved to be that excited about bread? "Sam," I found myself hissing at him, "Don't talk about bread in front of other people."

At James' game last Saturday Sam was getting hungry. "Bread? Mama, bread? Please?" he begged as he hung off my legs. Having no bread with me, I tried to ignore him. He ended up in a heap at my feet, crying, occasionally having enough air to gasp, "Bread!" before dissolving into tears again. There were about 50 other parents there who could testify that I have a child who is so neglected, he cries for bread as his mother ignores him.

I'm going to jail.

Feelings

Sam is a very sensitive kid. He is always aware of other's feelings and gets very concerned when he sees someone crying or in pain. We might be giggling at something and as he tries to catch his breath, he laughs, "I'm HAPPY!"

This morning I got a rare, drawn-out hug. I knelt on the floor by Sam and we rocked as we squeezed each other. I marvelled at this little creation of God. Genuinely wanting a thought-out answer, I asked, "Sam, are you happy? Do you like your life?"

He sighed happily and patted my back. "No, Mama," he replied. "I'm crabby." He then pulled away to go play with trains.

I guess I'm still a few years away from having in-depth talks about emotions with my kid.

Rules Of The Road

In keeping with Sam's love of cars, he has a car set that includes several tiny road signs. I try to look at every play time as a learning opportunity, so we have been talking about the meaning of all of those little signs. Now, when asked, Sam gives explanations for the following signs:

"STOP!"

"Walk. Watch out!"

"Kangaroo. Watch out!"

"R-R. Railroad. X-ray!"

"Dem first."

Honestly, I think he knows more than most of the people I encounter on the road.

(I apologize for the quality of these pictures - I grabbed the first images I found with a Google search.)

He's A Crafty Little Guy

Several weeks ago I started a part-time job. A few hours a day, I go to work and leave Sam with one of my sister's oldest and dearest friends, Dusty. So far Sam has really enjoyed it and I feel so lucky to have someone I can totally trust care for Sam.

Meanwhile, Jackie is always saying she wants to see Sam. Just a week or two will go by and she is saying, "How is he? Does he miss me? I need to see him!" Dusty is spending time every day with her nephew and I think there have been times Jackie wouldn't mind trading places with her.

Last night Sam and I went to one of Miranda's soccer games. Sam loves going to James and Miranda's games! He runs around cheering and gets to spend time with Jackie and Mike.

During the halftime break, Jackie poured attention on Sam. They ran, chased and jumped the entire time. Sam was having a ball. When the second half started Jackie returned to her seat to watch the game.

Not knowing why the fun was over, Sam stood in front of Jackie. "Jump! Jump!" he said.

"I can't jump right now, Sam," Jackie answered. "I am watching Miranda."

Without missing a beat, Sam retorted, "Dusty jumps."

He was just making conversation and not trying to be manipulative - right?

Once Again, I Got It Wrong

Sam is in love with anything with wheels. Driving past a construction site will send him over the moon and he spends every single morning at his train table.

Two days ago we found that my car had decided to not start anymore. This morning I called a shop and arranged for a tow truck to pick it up. Sam and I were both home when the tow truck arrived and I hustled him outside to watch. I figured that he would be thrilled to see a tow in action.

Sam sat next to me on the front steps, calling, "Hi!" to the driver as he walked up to my car. As the driver got in my car, Sam became nervous. "No, no, no," he cried. I tried to explain that the driver was helping me but Sam could not be consoled. He remained panicked as he watched the car get hooked up to the truck and burst into tears when it drove away. "No, my car!" he cried over and over. "Mama car. No, no, no!"

I managed to permanently scar my kid before 10 am. I'm getting better and better!

Maybe He Doesn't Have Tastebuds

A few days ago Sam and I made a huge batch of chocolate chip cookies. We both snuck chocolate chips and I let him taste the batter before I put the cookies in the oven. He was giggling and enjoying himself - but really, isn't that fun for everyone?

A while later I was starting dinner and chopping a large amount of green peppers. Sam wandered in to the kitchen and asked for some. I tried to explain to him that he wouldn't like them, but he persisted. I smugly handed him a piece, expecting him to spit it out.

Sam popped it into his mouth and his eyes brightened. "Yummmmm!" he said and scampered away. Every few minutes after that he'd come back for another bite of green pepper.

The chocolate chips I understand...but green peppers? I don't think that's normal.

It's Getting More Difficult

I've been dreading the day Sam becomes interested in something I know nothing about. Up until now I've been able to answer questions about letters, colors, shapes, and numbers like a pro.

The other day we were playing with Sam's cars. He held up a truck and said, "Wheels! Mama, Mama, see? Wheels."

"Yes," I agreed. "The truck has wheels."

"And truck wheels go roun' and roun' and roun'," Sam added.

"Yep," I agreed again.

Sam thought for a minute, and then asked, "How?"

Oh man. I honestly don't know. I mumbled something about the big engines making the wheels go around and changed the subject.

I'm going to have to start studying to stay ahead of this kid!

Fall Festival

Yesterday the rain stopped long enough for us to venture off to Quarry Hill for their fall festival. I'm always amazed by events like that! There are so many cheap or free things to do with kids.

It was a pretty big event, so Sam and I had to park down by the main road and walk the winding road up to the nature center. He was a trooper and I didn't have to carry him at all. Once up there, he was rewarded for his efforts. I bought enough tickets for Sam to do each and every activity, and I still spent less than it would cost for us to go to a movie.

Sam stamped insects onto a paper bag and designed his own button. He colored a catfish and taped it to a popsicle stick. He used chalk to color a leaf, decorated a butterfly ornament, made a nature necklace, and did surprisingly well tossing rings onto a pair of antlers. We decorated (and immediately ate) fall cookies and Sam painted an impression of a muskrat footprint. We did all of this, not to mention the pumpkin decorating, fish and reptile displays, or eating hot dogs while watching families canoe around a big pond.

Sam came home with a bag of goodies, filthy and tired. He hasn't stopped talking about our day yet. What a wonderful way to welcome autumn!

The Cold, Hard Truth

Yesterday I was on the internet catching up on celebrity gossip. On the screen there was a picture of a beautiful actress. She was wearing a tiny bikini and was tall and impossibly thin. Next to her stood someone I assume was her assistant. The assistant was wearing jeans and a large t-shirt and was built the opposite of the actress.

Sam wandered into the room and saw the picture. "Oh!" he said, very excited. He pointed to the assistant and said, "That's Mama!"

Sigh.

My hopes were raised when his eyes went to the beautiful actress. "Ohhh," he breathed, and pointed to her.

"Is that one Mama, too?" I asked.

"No," he replied. "That's Jackie."

It's exhausting being this kid's mom.

Samersaults

Last Christmas, Jackie and Grandma Barb tried to teach Sam how to do somersaults. I watched with a mixture of fear and amusement as they rolled themselves around Grandma Barb's living room. Sam was not quite two years old at the time and not at all interested in attempting what they were doing.

Well, the other day found Sam in a big, empty living room with Mike and Jackie. I wasn't in the room so I don't know who started it. There was some thumping, and then I heard wild cheers. I walked in to the room to find that Sam had mastered the somersault in about three minutes. He does them very well! He quietly talks to himself as he does it, following Jackie's instructions. "Down, walk walk walk, push!" and then he neatly pushes himself over.

He wanted to see me do one, but I explained that they are like running or jumping - Mom just won't do it. So Jackie and Mike did somersault after somersault right along with Sam. Sam was so happy (and I wouldn't be surprised to hear that they were sore the next day).

Hooray for new ways to burn a two-year-old's unlimited energy!

Slacking

I know, I know. I'm sorry.

Sam and I have been on the move the last week! We have been in the car a LOT and Sam is getting good at helping to carry things. He's growing and learning so much! Every day he does something so amazing I tell myself I HAVE to find time to write a quick post about it. Then, suddenly, it's two days later.

I'm doing my best! I'm hoping to get at least a few regular posts written this week.

Engines, A Caboose, And An Indecent Proposal

There have been no posts lately due to the fact I've had NO spare time! This has been the busiest month of our lives so far.

This morning I was determined to do something fun with Sam. Nothing we'd done a million times (like the park) and not another set of errands. I've heard over and over about a great train store in St Paul and decided Sam and I would check it out.

Well, holy cow - this place did not disappoint! We could go back this afternoon and Sam would be thrilled. It's called Choo Choo Bob's Train Store. It has train sets for both kids and adults and tons of running displays. The back of the store has six train tables set up with the coolest, newest wooden train sets. There are even benches for parents to hang out while the kids play themselves into a frenzy. The (apparent) owner of the store was dressed in engineer's overalls, complete with the striped cap. I don't even care about trains and I was enchanted.

Sam played for well over an hour. It was past lunch time and almost past nap time before I was able to get him close to the door to leave. He was having so much fun, and was so hungry and tired, I could tell a meltdown was close to happening. I asked him several times to be a good listener and walk to the car with me. His head hung lower and lower and I started to get desperate, not wanting to cause a scene.

Just then, Choo Choo Bob sauntered over. "Hey, little man," he said to Sam. "The trains will be here next time you come. How about you give me five?" Amazed, Sam slapped his hand. "What are you going to do now?" Choo Choo Bob continued.

Smiling, Sam said, "I go wi' mama. I go in car." He skipped to the door.

Astonished, I turned to Choo Choo Bob. "Will you move in with me?" I blurted out.

He seemed too surprised to reply, so I slunk out of the store and got Sam strapped into the car. I want to take Sam back to the store very soon - I hope Choo Choo Bob doesn't have a good memory.

Where House?

Again, Sam and I have returned from the cabin. Again, we are exhausted, dirty, and have piles of laundry. Again, I'd have given anything to be able to stay there.

As I've said before, the cabin has gone through several transformations in its life. It was originally a hunting cabin. I have very clear memories of being there when there was no running water, one main room, bunkbeds crammed into a small porch, and an outhouse. Compared to that, it's now luxurious. A living room, kitchen, bathroom, and two bedrooms make it downright homey.

However, it is just one of many cabins on the lake. The other properties have grown and changed in much larger scale. Most of them are actual summer homes while ours is still a getaway. I feel both amused and defensive when I see our little red cabin sitting between large, landscaped houses.

The cabins are set back from the road and Jackie and I have always made a game of seeing who could spot it first. We'd stare out the window, peering between the trees, trying to make out its tiny form. Once spotted, one of us would shout, "There it is!" and the other would cry affectionately, "It's so SMALL!" Repeating that each time was as much a tradition as the ice cream cones. It wasn't a trip to the cabin without it.

That is one thing I've let go of. We have a marker by the road which means I no longer have to slow down and squint through trees to try to find it. Both times I was there with Sam, I didn't say anything as I slowed down and turned into it's grassy driveway.

That's why I was so happy to hear Sam figuring the game out for himself. As we wound down the road to the cabin, Sam began asking, "Where house? Where house?" He repeated it several times. As soon as it was in sight, he cried happily, "HOUSE!"

Some things never change!

Petting Zoo

Now that Paul Bunyan is located on a farm, the price of admission includes access to a petting zoo. Sam LOVED the animals and was much more brave around them than the last time we were at one. I am still terrified of them - so I just stand back, panic, and take the pictures!

A head-butt stand off.

Meh...Sam thought it would be easier to just feed it.

Sam loved this horrible thing. Is it a pig? A boar? I honestly don't know and hope to never see one again.

This sheep was a real jerk. He pushed all the other animals out of the way, ate all of the food, and baaa'd right in our faces. *shudder*

Okay...the calf was very sweet. Apparently I have no problem with cows. I certainly didn't touch it, but it didn't make my skin crawl.

Believe it or not, Sam and I are headed back up to the cabin today! I forgot several necessary items there last weekend. Eric has to work, so this time it is just me and the kid. I will post when we return!

Paul Bunyan

Paul Bunyan has always been the best part of the cabin. It is the world's smallest, cheesiest theme park. When Eric and I went to Saglibom in 2003, all the news was that Paul Bunyan was closing and being torn down. I was heartbroken that my kids would never get to experience it. Less than a month ago, I found out it was torn down - and moved, piece by piece, to a new location! All of the classic rides and novelties are now spread across a family's farm between Brainerd and Mille Lacs.

Sam and Eric model the classic cut-out.

This isn't the nicest picture of Sam...but it is proof that I really do exist! We were the only three people on the little train.

They have the little boat ride! Sam was only mildly impressed by it.

They even moved creepy cowboy-on-a-bench! I tried to explain to Sam that there are pictures of all of us with the creepy cowboy, even pictures of Bay in cat's-eye glasses. That was a LONG time ago.

The best part of Paul Bunyan: it is possible to go on every ride and see every attraction in less than two hours. The worst part? The sweaty, tired ride home.

Ice Cream Cones

I apologize in advance for getting nostalgic. I just can't get enough of the pictures of Sam at the cabin. I spent my childhood there, as did my mom. Grandpa Bob built it as a hunting cabin with several of his friends after the war. It has been transformed into a cozy little house over the years (indoor plumbing is a wonderful thing!).

No trip up north is complete without going to Crosslake for ice cream cones. When I was about 10 years old I was on a trip to the cabin with Grandma and Grandpa. Grandpa Bob and I were playing cards, and he told me we were playing to see who would buy our ice cream. I, of course, lost. I brought my little purse into town with me expecting to use all of my money buying cones. Grandpa pretended to be confused, saying, "No, no...when you're playing cards, the winner always has to buy. Don't you know that?" Aww, Grandpa.

So much has changed, and Sam won't get to know Grandpa Bob's quiet kindness. But I'll be darned if I break the ice cream cone tradition!

Backwoods Baby

Our little family got home a little after dinner time yesterday. We were dirty and exhausted - but we had sure had fun!

Sam absolutely adored the cabin. Every time we walked through the door, whether when we first arrived or after being at the lake, he sighed, "Ohhhh...nice house." That is exactly how I feel when I'm there, too. When I'm in that tiny, mothball-smelling place I am totally relaxed and feel like I'm home. The spirit of the place must have struck Sam, because he felt the same way.

We managed the perfect mix of laziness and fun. There will be several posts about our trip - I actually managed to take pictures and won't be able to fit them all into one post. We ate, we played, we went to the lake, we watched movies...I really, really did not want to leave.

But now it's back to real life and three loads of laundry - no time for a long post today! Here are a few pictures of Sam at a genuine tractor parade!

"Wait a minute...is it really just tractors? AND no candy?"

"Aw, who am I kidding...everything is fun up north!"

Saglibom

Eric, Sam and I are about 15 minutes away from heading up to the cabin. I packed a ton of water toys and enough groceries to last us the rest of the month. Unfortunately, we can only stay until Tuesday.

Regular posts will resume on Wednesday!

Later

Mommy guilt has struck again.

I have been unbelievably busy lately. The next month is booked with a million things to do. I have been trying to get all of my housework done before Saturday. Sam is so good about playing by himself, but he of course asks me to join him from time to time. Feeling harried and overwhelmed, I keep telling him that I'll play with him as soon as I get a chance.

Yesterday I heard him addressing his toys in a new way. They all have the last name "Laytah (later)." It's something like this:

"Pud-dah (puzzle)? Pay pud-dah? No pay. Pud-dah Laytah."

"Oh, game. Game Laytah. No game."

He doesn't even try to ask any more - he tells me I'm too busy. He loves going in the backyard to play in the water. Last night he said to me, "Go? Wad-dah? No. No go. Is okay. Wad-dah Laytah."

UGH. I feel just sick about it. Today is the busiest day of all. Tomorrow starts four days of family fun, but he doesn't know that. The guilt is killing me. I think I'm going to have to buy him a pony.

Edited to add: Ah, the power of the internet. Karen is on her way over to whisk Sam off to a park playdate. He is now following me around, asking incredulously, "Sau go? Sau GO?" and crying, "Hoo-RAY!" every time I say yes. I'm glad Sam is happy, but now I feel even worse!

A Fun-Filled Pedicure

Last night Sam kept trying to take his stuffed toys into the tub with him. As a compromise, I ran into the kitchen for several tupperware containers and spatulas. The toys were quickly forgotten and Sam spent his entire bath cooking with bubbles.

This morning Sam spotted his new bath toys drying on the edge of the tub. He gathered them up and took them into the living room to play. With the bathroom to myself, I decided to do a quick pedicure. I sat on the edge of the tub, filled the bottom with water, and soaked my feet.

Sam poked his head in to see what I was doing. Once he saw the water in the tub it was all over. He dashed to the living room for his tupperware. I was barely fast enough to keep him from throwing all of it in on top of my feet. I kept thanking him for trying to share, but insisted I wasn't interested in playing.

Well, that wasn't the end for Sam. He tugged on his clothes, desperate to get in the tub. I struggled to keep him dressed and had to nearly wrestle him to the ground to keep him from jumping in. I had to give up and drain the tub.

I ended up sweating and my clothes got soaked by the splashing. Aren't pedicures supposed to be relaxing?

...And Everything In Its Place

For the last few days, Sam has been carrying around three big bottles of paint. It's washable kids paint but I imagine it would make an amazing mess if Sam chose to open them. He does know how to open a twist-top. I have been so busy working on the house I couldn't bring myself to care about the paint. I saw him walk through the room carrying them, and all I could muster was, "Sam, just don't open them, okay?"

What? A two-year old, choosing to skip a colorful, fantastic mess? Yes, that is my son. Instead, I walked in to the living room to find this:

Sam does not want messes. He wants things as orderly as possible. And if that means balancing a red, yellow, and green car on top of the red, yellow, and green paint, he's the man for the job.

Let's Start At The Very Beginning

Nearly every afternoon, Sam and I can be found in our front yard. We blow bubbles, color with chalk, try out the bubbles, and color with chalk again. I have a horrible time thinking of things to draw every day, so my section of the sidewalk is covered in preschool basics. I write the names of colors, written in each specific color. I print the alphabet, draw shapes, and write the names of everyone Sam knows. Sam watches happily and then asks to play with the bubbles.

On Friday I was sitting on the front steps reading a magazine while Sam played with the chalk. (I think I've firmly established by now that I am not a perfect mom.) Sam said, "Mama, A!"

"Oh, awesome!" I murmured without looking up.

"Mama! Mama! A!" Sam persisted.

"Ooooh, A!" I replied and turned a page.

Sam walked up to me and put his hand on my face. "Mama," he said, making me look him in the eyes. "A." He pointed down at the sidewalk. I just about fell off the steps when I looked down and saw this:

I'll be darned. The kid wrote an A. I was so excited, I ran inside to get the camera. He was happy to pose next to his masterpiece. Here he is, with his first clear letter by his right foot:

I have to admit, I still get a thrill looking at these pictures. Aw, what the heck, it's my blog...let's look at that again!

Fire Safety

It's staggering to try to comprehend just how much a child learns in his/her first few years. They start out with nothing! They have to gain control of their bodies. They are taught to talk, to play, to eat, to follow instructions...every tiny thing in every person's brain was, at one time, taught. I have to admit I am overwhelmed with the awesome responsibility I have to teach Sam...everything!

His brain is a little sponge right now. I take every opportunity to explain something new. Yesterday we were looking at one of his many truck books and we turned to the page about fire trucks. Within a few minutes Sam knew to point at the black smoke and make coughing noises. He touched the picture of the flames and said, "Hot!" He pointed at the oxygen tank on the ambulance and took deep, cleansing breaths. When I ask him what to do when there is a fire, he now points to the door and says, "Outside!"

Tonight, looking at the book, Sam remembered everything he learned. I pointed to the firefighter and explained that if he was inside and a firefighter was looking for him, he should go with him/her. I continued that if he was stuck and no one could find him, he needs to yell help. We took turns yelling "HELP!" until I was satisfied that he was yelling it as loud as he possibly could. We continued with the book.

A few minutes later, we were looking at another book. I pointed out a picture of children cleaning up and remarked that they were being good helpers, just like Sam. Smiling, Sam agreed, "Sau keen up. Sau HELP Mama!" While the rest of his speech was at a normal tone, he had managed to scream 'help' so loudly it just about shot me off the couch.

I know I don't have to worry about a firefighter not being able to find my kid!

Samuel Lagasse

One of Sam's favorite activities is cooking while I'm working in the kitchen. I pile a miscellaneous assortment of pans and utensils in front of him and he takes over. He chatters happily, pouring water from one pan to the other and pretending to add the sealed ingredients I've given to him.

Really, he loves to cook. I don't know why he became so solemn when I brought out the camera. Perhaps he felt he needed to lend an air of seriousness to his work, as it was for posterity.

(Honestly. Doesn't he look like I'm forcing him to do this? Especially in the last picture. He truly loves it - I might have to try pictures when he isn't looking.)

The Life Of The Doctor's Office

Sam and I just got home from his 2-year doctor's appointment. (Yes, he's 2 1/2. No, I don't want to hear about it.) I can now say with authority that the kid makes a blood draw fun.

We had to do a questionnaire in the waiting room. It tested several of Sam's language and gross motor skills. He loved it, and when we were done he asked, "More test?" (Go ahead and tell the story, Grandma Barb.) When we were called back to the exam room he was totally cooperative during the weighing and measuring. He's 3'3'' and weighs 37 pounds. He is still in the 95th percentile - he's nothing if not consistent!

I talked with the doctor for the first 15 minutes of our visit. Sam is at or above the normal range for all areas of development. When the doctor finally turned to Sam and told him he could get up on the table, Sam let out a little giggle of glee and climbed right up. He sat, solemn and still, as she checked his reflexes, eyes, ears, and mouth. He was happy to lay down and let her check his belly. She commented that she rarely sees a child his age handle an exam so well. She remarked that he was very mature. (Mature? The little kid with a big panther on his shirt?)

My heart sank a little when she ordered a blood test to check Sam's iron levels. We went over to the lab and I was hoping Sam would do okay. I am so afraid of needles, I have to lay down when I have blood drawn or else I pass out. We were called back and Sam sat on my lap. The nurse drawing Sam's blood talked with him the whole time. Sam watched with interest as she pricked his finger and filled a little vial. He was fascinated. Meanwhile, I had my eyes scrunched closed and was trying to stay upright. The nurse told Sam that he was very brave - much braver than his mom. Ha ha...she was a riot.

Sam ended up leaving the office with a band-aid and two stickers. He is delighted with all of them. Once again, I don't know what I ever did to get such a sweet, smart, and well-behaved kid!

Sam The Speedometer

Sam continues to prove that having a toddler can be pretty useful. Less than a week ago, he got me a pop for the first time. I felt bad for about a minute as I sat on the couch and listened to him pad into the kitchen, open the fridge, wrestle out a can, and slam the fridge shut. But he was so proud of himself! And really, how can I take that away from him?

Sam is also forcing me to keep my wits about me. Early Sunday morning, we were driving down Maryland Avenue. The speed limit there is 35 (or is it 30? Oh dear, I should probably know that). There are usually so many cars it is impossible to speed even if one was so inclined. There were several reports of Grandma Barb going 80 MPH down Maryland when I was about to deliver Sam, but I wasn't there to confirm that.

In any case, I usually go on auto-pilot when I'm on Maryland. There is a somewhat sharp downward hill near the end of it. I am used to automatically braking when I see all the brake lights going on in the cars in front of me.

On Sunday I was the only car on the road. I came to the hill and didn't move my foot off the gas pedal. I probably wouldn't even have known I was about to take flight if it hadn't been for Sam. Strapped into his carseat, he cried, "WHEEEE!" as we tore down the hill.

I looked at my speedometer and was immediately horrified. Sam continued to cheer until I slowed back down.

Thanks, Sam, for waking me up!

Worst Mom Ever

Sam and I have just had a very traumatic experience.

I was cleaning the kitchen cupboards and heard a sort of wearing, grinding noise from the living room. I ignored it as Sam never, ever does anything wrong. When I did wander out to see what he was up to, I found this:

Sam decided the best place to color (with a red crayon) was on the textured, impossible-to-clean living room walls. I wasn't really upset, as coloring on the walls is a requirement for toddlers. Still, I turned to Sam and said, "We don't color on the walls! That is naughty." Remember how I said Sam never does anything wrong? That makes this the first time I said something like that to him. That brought on this:

Picture of heartbroken Sam has been removed. It was just too sad!

Seriously. I felt like the worst mom in the world. But what should I have done? Told him to color away? I said over and over that I wasn't mad at him, we just don't color on walls. He was inconsolable.

Heartbroken picture 2 has also been deleted.

He was STILL crying when I had him stand next to the wall to show how big his picture was. These pictures just about break my heart. The worst part? I've been teaching him how to draw circles. He drew some pretty awesome circles!

He is a helper at heart, and all the tears stopped when I said he could help clean it. (His nose was still running, though.)

I got out the Magic Eraser and all traces of crayon are gone. Sam is happily playing.

So why do I still feel so terrible?

Those Blasted Bears - A Rant

Okay. I know I've always been thrilled with Sam's love of books. I have always dropped everything if Sam wants me to read to him. I never understood that the repetition of children's stories could make me feel so insane. Reading a book once is sweet. Reading it 1,264 times a week can wear on a person's soul. But there is one book that makes my blood run cold. I see him coming toward me, happily, carrying that horrible book. No amount of begging will change his mind, and I have to read it again: The Three Bears.

I never had a problem with Papa, Mama, and Baby Bear before this. They were just one of many little stories most people have memorized. But reading this book 20 times a day has changed me, and raised some questions in my mind.

Honestly, why is Goldilocks so rude? Who just wanders into a random house in the woods and starts busting up the place? What is wrong with her? And why doesn't she try the Baby Bear's things first? Why does she think she needs the biggest bowl, chair, and bed? YOU DON'T LIKE THEM, GOLDILOCKS!! You try them over and over and they never work. And only a sociopath can break into someone's house and feel so relaxed about it, she falls asleep.

I can almost believe that Papa and Mama Bear can tell a bite has been taken from their porridge. But how in the world can they tell someone has been sitting in their chairs? Just how obsessed with chairs can two people be? So obsessed they notice that before their child's chair, right next to them, broken to bits on the floor?

Nothing in this story makes sense, people. It completely drives me mad. I tried explaining this to Eric, who didn't understand. Then he noticed the crazed look in my eyes. He made the book go away. I don't want to know what happened to it. Last night Sam pulled all of his Little Golden Books off the shelf, looking for it. When he couldn't find it he simply brought me the entire pile. I didn't have to read The Three Bears. Instead, I had to read 14 other stories that are slowly making me lose touch with reality.

I am SO happy that Sam loves books!

Commanding Attention

Sam and I just got home from the grocery store. Sam was riding in one of those big plastic cars attached to the front of some carts. We were making our way down an aisle that was completely blocked on one side by boxes. Sam saw something interesting and jumped out of his car, which is a big no-no. As I repeatedly asked him to get back in the car, a line of people started building up behind me. Finally I just left Sam there and pushed ahead to the end of the aisle.

I expected to turn around to see Sam scrambling to catch up with me. Instead, I saw him grinning up at a group of retirees who were smiling right back at him. "Oh, HI!" Sam said to each of them, doing a little dance. He answered their questions and showed them the truck on his shirt. They were all so happy, I had to wait for their little meet-and-greet to be over before I could call Sam back over to me.

I honestly don't know how Sam turned out to be so social.

Creepy Crawly

Sam has a variety of interests. I wish he'd spend a little less time with his cars, simply because I am so bored with them, but we do play a lot of different things during the day. Lately, he has become obsessed with bugs.

Spending time outside really sparked his interest. He walks up and down the sidewalk, head down, looking for "ans." He'll spot an anthill and we'll have to squat there for ages watching the little bugs scurry around. He loves all flying insects but does not want them in his face (really, who does?).

Yesterday the theme of storytime was Bugs. Sam was in heaven. He listened to bug books, sang bug songs and got a bug stamp on the back of his hand when it was all over. He talked about the "buhs" at the "li-bee" the whole way home. He found a pack of bug stickers in his art supplies and I became his canvas. I had ladybugs and centipedes and grasshoppers stuck all over me.

I'm glad that Sam is interested in insects. I would hate for him to be really scared of them. I don't want to tell any secrets, but one of Sam's parents is absolutely terrified of spiders. TERRIFIED. There is dancing and shrieking and the other parent always has to run to smash them. I'm not going to reveal who the phobic one is...but I will say that I am pretty sick of having to kill spiders.

Sam is a true bug-lover. Once again, he proves that he is all boy!

A Few Sam-isms

Sam likes to remember where he got each of his toys. If it was a gift, he says the giver's name happily as he plays. We were in his room and I found a race car under his bed. I pulled it out and gave it to Sam, who was thrilled. "Sam, do you remember where that came from?" I asked. Sam looked at me like I was an idiot and said, "Under the bed."

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I was sitting rather close to Sam and he was studying my face. He started pointing out and naming my eyes, nose, teeth, cheeks, etc. He pointed at my forehead and said, "Morehead." I tried to correct him, but he just shook his head at me and repeated, "Morehead." Sadly, he is correct.

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We were having Jell-O for dessert one night. I had tried a new, hip flavor and it was kind of grossing me out. I asked Sam if he liked it and he said yes. Brightening at not having to throw it all away, I said, "Really, Sam? You like that?" He turned to me and pulled his spoon out of his mouth. "Uh...yeah," he said. "It's JELL-O!" I guess that's all he needs to know to like it!

Spelling Lessons

Sam really, really loves everything to do with the alphabet. We are always doing one of his (many) alphabet puzzles, reading books, or spelling words. This afternoon I was feeling pretty full of myself and the progress Sam was making. I thought I'd show off to Eric.

I got Sam's attention and said, "What does S-A-M spell?"

"Sau," he replied happily.

"What does S-T-O-P spell?" I continued.

"Stop!" he yelled.

Encouraged, I said, "Okay, what does D-O-G spell?"

Smiling broadly, Sam replied, "Mama!"

The kid is a traitor.

Vegetable Variety

Is it possible that I'm not feeding my son as well as I thought I was?

A few nights ago Sam was dancing around the kitchen, watching me cook dinner. He cheered when the pasta was drained and clapped when I filled his glass with milk. I started to scoop peas onto our plates. Absolutely delighted, Sam cried, "Oh! Green rocks!"

I think a trip to the farmer's market is in our near future.

Ramsey County Fair

Eric and I aren't big fans of the fair. The noise and people and smells and heat are usually too much for us anxiety-ridden folk. But now we have a kid who likes everything. So, on Sunday, Eric and I took Sam to the fair.

It comes as no surprise to anyone who has read this blog that Sam had a fantastic time. He loved the petting zoo but preferred to let Eric feed the animals. Sam won two prizes at the games and got to try cheese curds and cotton candy. But of course, the best part was the rides!

We were pleasantly surprised by the number of rides that Sam could go on. Eric took him on one of those huge slides that require a burlap sack to sit on. I stood at the bottom, watching Sam's panicked face turn into complete joy by the time they hit the bottom. Eric also took Sam through a kiddie maze (and ended up having to help another little girl through, too).

The one ride Sam could do by himself was the carousel-type ride with little motorcycles and 4-wheelers bolted to a huge circle. Eric went in with Sam to help him up and Sam went right to the pink sparkle 4-wheeler with pink and silver streamers on the handles. I saw Eric hesitate just one second before lifting Sam up onto his vehicle of choice. Sam was thrilled. The next ride was kind of a tilt-a-whirl, with the cars being huge cartoonish dragons. Sam was too short to go by himself, so again Eric went in with him. Sam went right to the pink dragon. I saw Eric actively trying to talk him out of it, gesturing at the purple dragon as a sort of compromise, but Sam wanted the pink one. I laughed until I cried watching Eric and Sam spin around in that pink dragon with a heart on the end of its tail!

We didn't stay long - just long enough to spend too much money and get a little too hot. But really, isn't that the point?

Rib Ticklin' Good

On Saturday Eric, Sam, and I went to our friend's birthday party. This week the birthday boy was 30, not 3, but it was still a blast for Sam!

Everyone there had kids - there were little bodies everywhere. Sam played with new toys, raced around the house, and spent quite a while in a little pool in the backyard. He loved the pool so much I'm afraid I'm going to have to buy one for our house!

During all of the fun, the birthday boy's father-in-law was grilling his famous ribs. He makes the barbecue sauce from scratch and disappears for hours into the smoke coming off the grill. He makes a mountain of ribs any man would be proud of. It is truly amazing, and we look forward to them every July!

This was Sam's first time with the famous ribs and he was really impressed. There were several of us sitting on blankets in the backyard eating and Sam was sharing with Eric. After Sam's first bite, he started getting impatient waiting for the next one. Eric was trying to get the meat off with a fork as fast as he could. Sam was told no several times for reaching in with his fingers and then trying to get some with his own fork. Finally Sam just went face-down on the plate, cutting out the middle man, getting the ribs right into his mouth.

Eric had to go back for a huge pile of seconds because Sam ate nearly everything he had intended for them to share. When he went inside, another guest stood and followed him in, leaving his plate sitting on the blanket. The second Sam noticed his unattended ribs, he took off for the plate. I'd have been embarrassed if it hadn't been so funny. The other guests shouted with laughter when I had to physically restrain Sam from stealing another man's meat.

It's just one more clear reminder that I am raising a little ball of testosterone - Sam will do anything for barbecued ribs!

He Knows Who He Is

While Sam's language is right where it should be for a two-and-a-half-year-old, he still has some pronounciation problems. For example, he calls himself Sau. That is FINE with me - I'm just thrilled he's talking! He still chooses quiet a lot of the time, so he constantly surprises me when he blurts out new ideas.

We were playing the other day and I grabbed him and held him tight. I held him like a baby, rocking really fast, saying, "Awww...are you my little baby?"

His face got very serious. "I Sau," he said. "I a bih boy."

I stand corrected!

A Flair For The Dramatic

For the most part, Sam is a really calm, level-headed kid. Recently he has been doing a LOT more imaginary play. Those imaginary situations have shown a whole new side of Sam.

Yesterday I was cleaning the bathroom and Sam wandered in. I handed him the orange matchbox car I'd found behind the shower curtain. "Oooooh!" Sam said excitedly and turned to run out. He tripped, dropping the car, making it bounce and skid into the hallway. Things like that happen all day, every day, and I've never seen him care - before yesterday.

Sam put a hand on the wall to brace himself. "Orange!" he cried. He ran to the car and threw himself on his knees. He scooped it up and cradled it in his hands. "Orange, you 'kay?" He stood up and carried the wounded car into the living room, still talking to it soothingly.

He really, REALLY, loves his cars.


(Sam says Happy Birthday, Koko! We love you!)

Happy Birthday To Lou

Sam, Eric and I went to a three-year-old's birthday party yesterday. It was for Eric's friend's son, Lucas, who Sam has played with before. Sam had so much fun. To put it in context, Sam will jump, with both hands in the air, and shout, "Hoo-RAY!" when we walk into the bank. The party just about blew his mind.

There were four little boys, all around Sam's age, and they played really well together. Lucas had a new water table and all of them gathered around it playing happily. Sam also rode a scooter (correctly!) for the first time. There was a play tent and balls and a tunnel to crawl through. Not to mention pasta salad and lemonade and a bowl of animal crackers set out at Sam's height.

One of the highlights was the pinata. The boys took turns whacking at it. We all had to wonder what they thought of this game - hitting a big car with a stick as it hung from a tree. (Because Sam is his father's son, he had his shirt off as he swung at the pinata.) Finally, Lucas' dad had to break it open and then the yard was just covered with candy! Each boy got a treat bag and they ended up being stuffed with goodies. Sam's experience at the parade helped him here. He just picked up suckers and Laffy Taffys and stuffed them into his bag without looking.

Lucas' mom made an adorable birthday cake in the shape of a bear. The boys trooped back to the backyard to eat it. I had to laugh when I saw Sam. He was sitting at the little picnic table with his friends, sweating, wearing a cone hat complete with elastic strap under his chin. The kids with normal appetites took bites of their cake and ran off to play with cars. Sam sat and scooped cake until his was gone. THEN it was time to play.

When Lucas opened his presents, his mom brought out gift bags for the rest of the boys. It was amazing! They all got so much fun stuff - bubbles and stickers and glow sticks and an echo microphone! It was all so generous! The whole ride home, Sam talked about "Lou" and the balloons and the pinata.

We got home around 5:30 for dinner. Suddenly, at 6:00, Sam was flat on the floor crying. He had had too much fun and he just couldn't take it any more. He was tucked off to bed - and I stayed up to eat his candy.

Happy Birthday, Lucas!