Hard Headed, II

At any rate, he’s figured out the bell. Never mind the idea that forward momentum is a direct result of putting your feet to the pedals and pushing. You know, effort?!?!?!?

In absolute contrast, Cooper is racing all over the place on his bike. I believe we know what Christmas will look like at our house. Bigger bike?


PS – This great bike (that Cooper is on) was a hand-me-down. (Do you remember when Cooper first started riding it?) We love it and have been so grateful for it. If Mason ever catches on to the concept, he’ll ride it too. What a blessing.

Until it Froze

When a farmer lady says stuff, you should listen. Well, this is what I’ve decided. The woman had already driven my kids and me on a tractor cum runaway train over the better portion of her pumpkin farm. I had overheard her snickering with her husband about the phallic shapes and sizes of the pumpkins in her patch. And then she approached me and leaked a little wisdom. She didn’t mean to do it, I’m sure.

“You know, we never know how great the pumpkins are until it freezes.”

“Come on now,” I replied.

“No really, we plant the seeds and then the leaves take over and from the house we can’t tell what’s going on. (Then she pointed at her house at the top of the hill.)
We walk around occasionally to make sure there are no problems, even have the field trip kids over. But we never know what’s taking shape until it freezes.”

“Oh.”



I purveyed her spread. All I could see for a couple of acres were rows and rows of gleaming pumpkins, squash, and gourds. The orange, cheery promise of great jack-o-lanterns was nesting atop matted, rotten, blackened leaves and stalks. In plain sight. But not until just a few days ago, when it froze just enough for the pumpkin plants to retreat, shrivel, and take a new place under their fruits.

Hmmmmm… do you think I’ll feel like that when my kids are 16? I’m going to wake up one morning after a chilly night and realize what’s up under there. Or am I going to realize that I’m the big leafy bush of a pumpkin plant. Right now I’m hovering over them, protecting them, sheltering them, not letting anyone get their grimy mitts on them. And one day, I’ll realize it’s time to shrivel up and die. Then someone will parade by, point to them and take them home.


Or will this adventure in parenting turn out to be more like the maize maze? We wander and wander seeing only our feet hitting the trail in front of us. And then finally we see it, the platform that raises us up and lets us see our entire journey at a glance? Not only where we’ve been, but also where we still need to go.

I have no time to fret on the future as I enjoy today. For now I can rest assured knowing we giggled and laughed and drank in the sun.

Holy Cow

Just gotta share how Mason says Holy Cow.

Homey Towel

Yes, people, he's that funny.

I Just Transcribe

Cooper: Do doctors get to do anything they want?

Mom: No.

Cooper: Oh, so they can't poop in a pizza box?

People, I do not make this stuff up. Also, thank you to ... well, you know who you are.

I Might Have Freaked

Have you ever lost your kid? Just admit it.

I have lost one or the other kid for a moment or two many times. I lost Cooper once when he was about 18 months old. We were in a huge sporting good store looking for snow boots for him and then he was gone. The store was a zoo -- people everywhere. Crazed fans, no less. Some kind of event with the Broncos cheerleaders. And that my friends is where I found him, checking out the hotties in the ass-less pants.

But anyway, some of my very worst mother moments have been in fabric stores. And I have another one to add to the list (maybe I should just stop going to them). Remember Cooper's first field trip? On that very day I made my kids go to a fabric store. Not just any fabric store, but my favorite, gigantic, warehouse style, wannabe Mood, fabric store. Both kids were pleasant and honestly they know the drill at fabric stores. They absolutely will NOT get my undivided attention, so they don't even ask for it.

The two of them were trailing me. I could hear them playing at my feet as I flipped through samples and remnants. Then all of the sudden Cooper poked his head out from under the table and said, "Where Mason?" Where's Mason indeed! I wandered around the store calling his name. I was calm. Then I figured I'd made a full circle of the store and hadn't seen or heard him. So, Cooper started yelling his name and I posted myself at the exits. Nothing.

Then I started to sweat. We had just had some other weird stuff happen in our family and so I think I might have been a little extra sensitive. But I genuinely went into overdrive. Every little blue hair in there knew I was looking for my kid. They announced it over the intercom, I started crawling on the floor. And then...

One of the little worker bees came out of the back and sweetly said, "I found him." I followed her to the back of the store, and there he was, sound asleep. He slept so hard that I was able to pick him up, sit him in the cart, place a fat chunk of fabric under his head and he continued to sleep for another hour! (Do I shop too much?)

It's OK to freak. I freaked. I found him. But I freaked, first.

Someday

If history is any indication I'm fairly certain that at some point in the future my children won't like me. They will have their reasons. And whatever. But for now, I think they do. Proof?

Mason was hugging me, then began to stroke my hair, then half-closed his eyes and said, "You so toot (cute)."

PHOTO NOTE: More pics of their Indy outfits.

Showers are Safer

I have some mildly interesting news. And since Mason has taken it upon himself to tell everyone -- including our pediatrician -- I'll let him take it away.

"He (cooper) was grabbing the soap and he felled and then he bonked his chin, and then it bleeded. It was so gross."

You heard him right. Cooper fell in the bathtub and had his first run to the E.R. for stitches (we've had a few other events but none so messy). And here's where I start bragging a little bit. In a moment of horrendous timing, I put the kids in the bathtub at the very moment Steve left to go grocery shopping. So, I was alone when the mayhem got under way.

Like a million other kids his little chin smacked on the edge of the tub so hard he got an impact laceration. Which is a boring way of saying, with a sickening crack Coop's chin split open and instantly looked like an exploded hot dog. Makes you wanna bun, huh?

From what I understand, this is really a right of passage for something like 99 percent of males. So, here we are. He's ready to be a stud. I have been somewhat confused on how many stitches were in there. I originally thought 10, when I finally got a look at it I thought it was 8. The pediatrician took out 7. And then I noticed another little bit of blue thread wriggle out when I was cleaning it today. So, not entirely sure.

Look closely and you can see the scruffs of his stitches in this photo. And that my friends will probably be the last time you see any sign of injury there because the sewing was quite good.