Okay, okay. I know that almost everything I ever write about, and almost every picture I ever post pretty much always stars my adorable, lovable little boys. But, hey--they are just so entertaining and cute. At least I think so. I am pretty sure that I can't even really talk about anything else for longer than a couple of hours (at the most). I don't even think I could have a viable non-mom friendship right now because I just don't even know if there is a topic on earth as interesting as what my kids are up to, and I am sure that said non-mom friend would get justly bored. What can I say? I never knew that having kids would be this satisfying. I love life! (At least most of the time on most days and with the exception of around 5 pm on probably every weekday--at which point I pour myself a glass of vino and things typically start to get rosier.)
Max. What a wonderful, enjoyable little guy. Who will not ever hold still--especially when I am trying get him dressed, or lotion him, or give him a vitamin. Or pretty much anything. He so much as sees or hears that I am coming toward him with something to apply or ingest and he takes off on a sprint. And if I happen to catch him, he will fight and jump and wriggle away. This kid is pretty tough when he wants to be. Pisses me off sometimes. And then let me tell you about what a deceptive, conniving negotiator this little guy is--ALREADY! He is only 2 1/2, yet he can find loopholes in every thing I say or ask, and he has an uncanny knack for getting me to change my mind or give in to his pleas for "just one more time/just a few more minutes/just a little bit more." I am sure that these traits will prove very beneficial for him later in life, but at the present they serve to really complicate and irritate mine. Did I mention that he has also perfected the skill of procrastination? I take full responsibility of having passed this trait to him, but who knew that a little boy could methodically think of excuses so as to not have to go to bed. I mean I didn't know. I tell him bedtime is in 5 minutes, set a kitchen timer, and when there are like 3 seconds left, he looks at me with this adorable little serious face and says, "Mommy--I huhhhnngry. I want peanut butter sandwich, mommy. I huuhhnnnnngryy!" And then of course I can't send my beloved child off to bed starving--that is just not right. So, indeed he gets to eat and then another 20 minutes later we are finally back up stairs to begin our bedtime routine: brush teeth, pee (at which point he procrastinates a little further and states he needs to poop and will therefore kill another 5 minutes because I can't just not let him do that--what if he really needs to go?), read a book (or two, depending on how well he is able to negotiate), and then we turn out the lights and I have to lie down by him and tell him a couple more stories. This is followed by my favorite part: cuddling with him for 5-10 minutes (or 20, if he is really slick). And even after all of that, he will still think of ways to further put off sleep. What a sucker I am, every single night. Gotta just love this smart little boy.
Max and I actually reached a momentous milestone this week: I dropped him off at a summer camp and left him for 3 hours. I know--milestone (for me, anyway, since I was the only one crying when I dropped him off). He went to a "summer fun days" camp at My Gym which is this little gym where he takes weekly classes. So, he was somewhat comfortable with the setting and the teachers, but I have never taken him someplace and left him. Sure, I have left him at our house with a sitter numerous times, but never just dropped him off somewhere and driven away. Like I said, I cried. I guess it was just a big fat reminder of how big and grown-up and independent he is getting. If nothing else, at least it is great preparation for sending him off to preschool this fall (which he is super excited about and wants to start tomorrow).
RoboMax. The Maxbot. I forget the clever name Paul came up with for this crazy idea (which was obviously a Paul invention--he's just so much more creative than I).
Sam. My beautiful, big-blue-eyed, blonde baby. He already has all of the ladies smitten. I take him to the daycare at the YMCA about 4 times a week while I exercise and all of the girls who work there fight over who gets to hold him. At least I know he won't be left crying in a corner.
He is getting to be so much fun. And he is getting to be a lot more work. For instance, he is in to everything, can climb up anything, and wants to do whatever Max does. He is so much more of a handful than Max was at that age and is very determined and stubborn. Additionally, he is super smart. He can say "ma-ma" and "da-da" now and wave goodbye on command. He can even play Chopin on my piano.
He loves to play the piano and will crawl all the way into this room even when no one else is in there, pull himself up to reach the keys and start plunking away. But, he especially loves to perform when he has an audience.
The refrigerator is Sam's latest fascination. He will speed crawl for it anytime it is open; he wants to see what is inside so badly. I was cleaning it this week, and of course he took the opportunity to truly explore this curious apparatus full of cool and colorful things of varying shapes, smells and textures.
Not only has Sam totally shunned all things pureed or from a jar, he won't even let anyone else feed him. He wants to do it all by himself. If I try to put something in his mouth, he spits it out immediately. Then he will pick it back up with his chubby little fingers and, if he can get it into his mouth on his own, he will eat it. Needless to say he makes quite a mess this way, and the food that falls onto his lap or the floor is usually enough to feed a small army.
Look at this messy kid! He must have been really hungry this day as I started him off with some avocados and hummus on bread while I was making dinner, and he ate a ton of it. Then, when dinner was ready (a spaghetti-type dish with rice noodles and broccoli) he ate a ton of that.
I think he might be wearing more than he ate: look at the piece of tomato hanging from his ear, and I had to wipe sauce out of his eyes more than once.
Sammy just LOVES his daddy. Whenever daddy gets home from work, the gushing, joyous smile Sam gives him is truly heartwarming. If I happen to be holding Sam when Paul walks in, he will literally try to jump from my arms toward his daddy. It is such a perfect, amazing exchange.
And what a lucky little boy Sam is to have such a dedicated, hard-working father. Paul really is a terrific dad, doing more for and with his little boys than any other dad I know. Poopy diaper? No problem. Noses full of green, slimey and snotty boogers? Paul has it under control (and not everyone knows this, but Paul actually has a deep-seated apprehension for phlegm or any respiratory secretion). Bath time? Paul will handle it. (hmmm--what do they need me for? Maybe I will go on vacation.)
June is not only a month to celebrate our gratitude to Paul for all he does for us as a father, but it is also the month of his birthday. My friend Sara's husband's birthday is in June also, and we started to plan a combined birthday-night-out for them, complete with dinner and dancing at our favorite "cougar" bar. When he was informed of this, he told me point-blank that in no way was that going to be his birthday celebration. Instead, he opted to stay in, and I fixed him his favorite dinner--Jambalaya, and of course a chocolate-y birthday cake that I unfortunately overcooked. At least the frosting was good (the only part that Max will eat anyway).
1 comment:
So cute! I can't believe how fast they are both growing up. Looks like the summer is treating you all well.
Lots of love
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