The best day ever

Anson has been counting down to today all week?

“Mommy, what day is this day?”

“Tuesday.”

“And after this day I get to go to the fair and go camping?”

Then, we found out we would get to see cousin Carson today, and it amplified the anticipation tenfold.

“Mommy, after this day do I get to go to the fair and go camping with cousin Carson?”

Well, cousin Carson wasn’t camping with us, but the rest of it was true.

And then, today came.

And the fair didn’t happen, and cousin Carson wasn’t feeling 100%, but we still headed to the mountains for camping.

Anson was so excited that he couldn’t nap.

He insisted that we pull over when we got onto the dirt road so he could ride in the Blazer with mommy.

He road four wheelers and reveled in the thrills of the makeshift tree swing and oscillated between shorts and jeans as the sun intermittently came out from behind the clouds, and he got dirty and ate licorice and hotdogs and crashed hard at dusk.

“Daddy, I’m tired,” he moaned, before flopping into his father’s lap by the fire.

So I took him to the trailer, where Maddox was already sawing logs.

And as he changed into his pjs he announced, “mom, today was the best day ever!”

I asked what his favorite part of today was, and he responded, “All of it.”

Things did not go Anson’s way today. He didn’t get to go to the fair, his visit from cousin Carson was far from the vibrant affair he usually looks forward to, and I am pretty sure a bee stung him on the head when he was putting on his four wheeler helmet.

But he was so joy filled and happy. His day was full of adventures embraced.

I’d like to feel that way at the end of the day. I think I might start making it a point to.

Ladies love Anson Jo…

Today at daycare pick up, I met Anson’s friend Teagan.

Anson has mentioned Teagan before as his girlfriend.

But I hadn’t met her before, because apparently her parents and I are on different drop-off/pick-up schedules.

Until today. As I was signing Anson and Maddox out for the day, Teagan’s mom arrived. Anson pulled on my shirt and asked, “Mom, can we show Teagan how to get to our house?”

I looked down at the sweet little girl standing by her mother and big brother and asked, “Is this Teagan?”

Teagan’s mom asked me, “Is this Anson?”

So this is toddler-romance Meet the Parents…

“Teagan talks about Anson non-stop,” Teagan’s mom informed me. “It is just the cutest thing. She told me just the other day about how they’re going to have a playdate.”

Anson piped up again, “That’s why we have to show her how to get to our house, Mom.”

I said something to the tune of how we should do a playdate sometime, and nice to meet you, but I’ll admit I was a bit distracted because Maddox had already darted out the cracked front door and was probably headed for oncoming neighborhood traffic. I scurried out the door with Anson, but he stopped on the sidewalk and adamantly informed me that we needed to wait for Teagan.

“She needs to know where we live for our playdate.”

I said that the playdate probably wasn’t happening tonight, but that we’d let Teagan know where we lived soon.

“She lives really close to us, Mom. She lives in Walla Walla, just like we do.”

 

Firsts

At some point in Anson’s early childhood, he determined that he didn’t like soup.

So, I pretty much stopped making soup.

I’m ashamed to admit it, but from time to time when I DID decide to make soup, I created side dishes and meal alternatives to accommodate Anson’s soup aversion.

My mother-in-law gave me a pressure cooker for my birthday this year, and I had a tortilla chicken soup recipe that I was dying to try in it. Today, I finally made it. And as I was putting the finishing touches on the topping-chopping, I contemplated making Anson and Maddox quesadillas or some other somewhat-aligned side dish.

Because Anson doesn’t like soup.

And then I remembered that the kids had quesadillas for dinner the night before.

And I also remembered that Anson is four years old, and I’m 35, and like, he can probably just eat whatever we eat.

So, there was no backup plan dinner.

I did rebrand the soup “taco soup” to appeal to the children’s love of the book “Dragons Love Tacos” but other than calling it something different, the kids had what we had for dinner tonight.

Soup.

And as Anson ate his 3rd or 4th unprotesting bite, he announced, “Ohhh Mom this is the best soup I’ve had in years.”

And he wasn’t wrong, other than that it was the ONLY soup he’d had in years.

Independence

Anson has started really embracing the responsibility of dressing himself.

I’m not sure what benchmarks or milestones are associated with “dressing oneself” or even if, at four-and-a-half years old, Anson is actually a late bloomer in this regard.

What I will say is that his wardrobe choices often amuse me.

I’ll discover at the end of the day that Anson has had on the wrong day of the week dino undies.

Or he’ll wander out of his room wearing a black teeshirt with blue and green patterned shorts (nope, didn’t let him leave the house like that).

For three days straight, Anson wore a different Red Sox shirt paired with athletic shorts (because the Red Sox are Daddy’s favorite team).

This morning, his selection was a pair of what Zeb would define as “skinny” jeans with an oversized Wingman Birdz and Brewz logo teeshirt.

Like, to his knees oversized.

When he got home from school, he went to his room and changed clothes. I heard his shout from his bedroom, “Who wants to play baseball with me?”

I just assumed that he had discovered his mitt and metal bat, which we strategically hide up high so that Maddox can’t take a whack at any of us when we least expect it.

But then, Anson came scampering down the hallway into the kitchen in full tee-ball team regalia. The pants, the team shirt, he even had his cleats in his hands. “I’m ready to RIP SHOTS!” he exclaimed.

I suppose this isn’t the strongest display of independence that a four-year-old could put on, but I have found it to be quite telling. I often boast to myself that he is “my son” – his hardcore extraversion and his guileless people-pleasing and desire to entertain any and all who’ll give him a moment’s attention. But these are also characteristics that his father possesses (in probably much healthier manifestations than mine). The heavy favoritism to patriotic colors and themes? Totes his dad. Baseball logos on all the things? All Zeb.

Plus this afternoon, Zeb put himself in a grey pair of shorts and a green-grey polo shirt for our date night, so color coordination?

Anson inherited that from his Daddy, too.

 

Sometimes you gotta plan on fun

I’m trying to be more deliberate with how my days are spent.

That’s not to say that I’m not already thoughtful and intentional in my day-to-day. I’m very goals oriented, and most days start with a fairly ambitious to-do list dedicated to enhancing my career, our home, generally staying on top of life’s assorted stuff.

What I’m talking about is how my days are planned in terms of the kids. With minimal childcare support this week and a pretty aggressive client schedule, I need real naps in order to bang out productive work. I also have found that there’s really no point in me trying to work when the kids are awake; they sense my desire to get work done and shift into needy-mode when they’re normally quite independent and self-entertaining. Like dogs sense fear, kids can sense distractedness, and capitalize on it to turn into a-holes and make sure you know that it is your fault they’re behaving so poorly.

Not today, guys.

Last night, I sat down and wrote my intentions for the week and for my Monday in particular. Rather than “hope to come up with fun things to do” or cross my fingers for a day when the kids feel particularly independent, I decided that today, I would do something with Anson and Maddox that we had never done before.

That something ended up being a trip to the Walla Walla Children’s Museum.

We weren’t there more than 2 minutes before Anson announced, “This place is AWESOME!” as he gleefully slid down their indoor slide, and thus began two full, blissful, smiles-on-their-faces hours of family magic.

There is indoor fun to be experienced AND outdoor fun to be explored.

Each room in the building has a different theme or make-believe set up, including a veterinarian’s office, a modern-day kitchen, and an apple orchard and garden. In one of the larger rooms, there is a climbing wall that you have to scale in order to access the slide, as well as a magnetic wall to build gravity tests on, a glow-in-the-dark room with glow sticks you can jam in the wall to make all kinds of cool designs, an art station, an entire bin full of dinosaurs, and a wind machine. The other large room has a fishing pond and damn, and a mini-construction site complete with sand and water to create your own rivers.

Outside, a vintage fire truck from the Milton-Freewater department sits for children to climb all over, inside and out. There’s also a large boat with a crab pot off the side, a gravel pit with a slide and picnic tables, a make-believe lemonade stand, assorted tractors, a giant teepee…

I mean, is this HEAVEN?

Puzzles. Books. Activity walls.

My two little explorers had such a blast, and so did I. All because I made sure to block out two hours of planned fun on the calendar. Because I was able to be 100% focused and present with Anson and Maddox then, they ate great lunches and took legit naps later and were pretty awesome for us all afternoon, as well.

Sometimes, my idea of “fun” and “treats” doesn’t really line up with what my kids get excited about. Sometimes, I really turn on the Mom-Energy and try to fun-up a situation that isn’t all that enticing to start with (ahem, grocery shopping or cleaning up the kitchen). And sometimes, you’re all out of fun and so are the kids and that’s okay too. We gotta live with not-fun from time to time.

But planning on doing something new today with the kids (knowing that it would be fun, to boot) was my win for the day, and the fact that it wasn’t spontaneous but was in fact WRITTEN DOWN IN MY PLANNER makes it feel even better. We don’t always have a magical spark of creativity to turn the mundane Monday into a highlight of the summer, so knowing that by being a little intentional about how I looked at my day today had such an enchanting outcome is very encouraging for me as I look to the future with three to entertain.

Tuning in with the kids today was also rewarding on so many levels. I got to see Anson and Maddox engage in really imaginative play without any fighting over toys or spots or attention. I got to pretend to haul in giant fish off the side of a boat, be a master chef orchestrating a wonderful meal, play ER doctor to an ailing beaver with a huge red scratch, build funnels out of magnetic half-pipes, and write Maddox’s name in glow-in-the-dark sticks. I got to witness Maddox’s love for animals in multiple settings: the thoughtful way she loaded three rubber duckies into a small boat in the outside water station, and the strangle-hold neck hug she gave a stuffed St. Bernard in the vets office (“Ohhhh puppy” she said as she embraced it. “LOVE.”).

And when it was time to go, the kids reluctantly climbed in the car and fought to stay awake for the 10 minute drive home, gushing the whole way back about all the fun they’d had in that jam-packed two hours.

I’m planning on planning more trips to the Children’s Museum in the future, for sure. But even bigger than that, I want to be more intentional in putting fun on the schedule from now on.

How can you put fun on the schedule in your own life?

All in a day’s work

Today after naptime, Anson wanted to go outside and help Daddy clean up the yard.

It was a chillier day than normal for August in Walla Walla, and Anson decided he needed a sweater, and socks and shoes as well. Then he went outside and got busy, looking for dog poop to scoop up with his little shovel and put in a bucket.

After a bit, he got curious about our little tomato garden, which, due to some poor execution on Mom’s part, isn’t producing much in the way of actual tomatoes but does seem to be flourishing in terms of height.

I watched all of this from inside as I worked on food prep for the week. Occasionally something Anson would do would make me smile to myself or even laugh out loud… he’s a very animated kid.

Suddenly, Anson raced across the backyard towards the house. Anson came through the door holding a single still-yellow dandelion flower. He gave it to me and announced excitedly, “Mom, there’s the HUGEST tomato out there!”

“That’s awesome, Anson! Is it red, or green?”

“It’s just green,” he responded. “But it is gigantic.”

“Mmmm, I can’t wait until it turns red so we can eat it. Thanks for keeping an eye on the garden!”

“Oh guess what else Mom?” Anson asked with no less enthusiasm. Then he handed me the dandelion. “This is for you.”

“Wow, Anson! Thank you so much for picking a flower for me.”

“It’s all in a day’s work,” he replied nonchalantly, as he headed back out the door to get back to it.

The way loves grows

Today, I got to fly solo with the kids.

I had grand designs on getting some crafty stuff done, and a grocery trip, and other miscellaneous productive designs.

So I got up at 5 am, and I busted through some of the necessities before anybody in the house had stirred.

And then, the day really began, and we all got carried away in pancake making and laundry folding and general busy work that didn’t really feel much like connecting and didn’t really feel much like producing, either.

It is one of my aspirations to be an exceptional, generous, present, patient, and creative Mom, so I stopped myself mid-laundry basket and decided that we should read a book together.

Maddox snuggled in on my lap, and Anson sat behind us on the couch, and before I could even get started with the book Anson announced, “Maddox, I’m just starting to love you so much.”

Starting to?

At first, I panicked a bit. I mean, is he just NOW starting to love his sister? Yikes. But as I thought about it more, perhaps he is simply becoming aware of what that heart-burst-out-of-your-chest affection feels like when it comes on in a warm swell. Maybe he looked at his sister as she leaned her haystack of a head against Mommy’s shoulder and thought, “Here’s a human being who can love me back… and I love that.”

That’s sometimes what I think when I look at Maddox, and I’m pretty sure I’ve loved her from before the beginning.

We all experience love in different ways in different stages with different people: ups and downs, good and bad, healthy and not-so-much, steady and comfortable, dizzying and overwhelming.

The same can be said for just about any emotion.

But today I’m thinking of how love grows. How it can be a given, like my love for my daughter, yet it can still grow and have deeper meaning as she grows and starts to show us her personality.

And while I know she’s always depended on us, and been attached in particular to me, this new stage in Maddox’s development has her showing and saying her love out loud. She leans her head against books where the characters are sad, and says, “Love.” She reaches her arms out for hugs and says, “Love.” She squeezes our cheeks between her two pudgy little hands and looks us in the eyes and says “Love” before puckering up and saying “Mooch.”

Sure, I’m probably emoting onto my four-year-old a little bit today, but Anson’s turn of phrase, “I’m just starting to love you so much…” makes me think that perhaps this little man is becoming aware of how his love for his family can grow, too. These aren’t just the people you were born with and have to love (although, I do feel that love is a large part choosing after a certain point). These are the people whose love will make you who you are, and who will be shaped by the love you give.

And as our family grows, so does our love.

 

I guess I’m a hunter now

Today at dinner, Anson decided that he’s a hunter.

The middle of our kitchen table is where papers, envelopes, receipts and “homework” go to die. It’s a gathering place for the miscellaneous items we bring in from the car, a home for opaque plastic bags full of purchased items that we subsequently forget about, a hiding place for soggy-turned-petrified bits of cereal.

One of the items unearthed over dinner tonight was an adjustable camouflage hat. Zeb picked it up, placed it on Anson’s head, and announced, “Anson has a new hat.”

“Is this hat mine?” Anson asked… hardly believing his good luck, I have to imagine.

“It is if you want it,” Zeb responded.

“It doesn’t fit anybody else’s head in this family,” Anson reasoned. “I guess I’m a hunter now.”

I mean, the way this kid’s synapses fire…

Me vs. Morning People

I love getting up early and having the house “to myself” for an hour or so before the kids get up and start jackin’ with things.

And today, when my alarm went off at 5 am, I actually got out of bed, fresh(ish) faced and ready to kickstart my morning with a caffeinated beverage and some deep reflections.

Within a few moments of kicking my feet over the side of the bed, I heard Maddox shout, “MOMMY MOMMY MOMMY!”

I vainly attempted to get her pacifier to her so she’d go back to sleep. She wanted to “Hold ‘eee!” which is how she says she wants me to hold her.

I asked if she’d go to bed if I put her in my big bed, and she said, “Yea.” So I went in there and tucked her in but the instant I tried to leave she shouted, “WAIT!”

So I lay down next to her, and she settled down, and for about 10 minutes we just laid in that bed and I pretended to be asleep so she’d get the hint. Instead, she kicked me (like he brother often does) in the back, and rolled over incessantly, and would randomly say a word or two.

Maddox usually sleeps past 7. A 5 am wake-up for the baby girl didn’t bode well for daycare. But I suppose that’s not REALLY my problem.

And then, Maddox started rubbing my back and shoulder. I was lying with my back to her, and she reached her sweet little hands over my shoulder softly, just like she would if I were hold ‘eeeing her and she wanted to hug me back.

It was the sweetest thing, I kind of just decided that if she was up for the day, that’d be okay.

My name is inigo montoya

Tonight, we took the kids with us to a grown-up’s birthday party.

Anson told us on the way home that it was the best night of his life.

Perhaps this was because Anson had a new audience of grown-ups, some of whom had consumed a few alcoholic beverages, that were wildly amused by Anson’s (a-hem) antics.

But probably the main reason was the bountiful supply of gummy candies, pizza, and cupcakes. As Anson sat down to the table to enjoy his chocolate frosted cupcake, he started to engage in the conversation of three men and a woman standing nearby. They must have found Anson as charming as I do, because they immediately began to involve him in the discussion. Pretty soon, Anson had them all in stitches as he used the chocolate frosting from his cupcake to create different variations of a mustache.

One of the grown ups said, “Repeat after me: My name is Inigo Montoya.”

This sent Anson into hysterics. He’s never seen The Princess Bride but he sure did find Mandy Patinkin’s character name hilarious. “Say that word again!”

“My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father, prepare to die.” Anson probably didn’t hear that last part, because he burst into peals of laughter after the name part.

Kids, man. I obviously wasn’t drinking any alcohol, but Anson and Maddox were the best social lubricant at that party I could have asked for. Parents that didn’t have kids wanted to know what it was like. Parents with kids were looking for daycare recommendations and playdate invites.

Who knew a grown-up birthday party would be such fun for the whole family?