Houston
fall and spring is some of my favorite weather. Last week, we had one of those
perfect days where it was 70 degrees and almost no humidity. So after arguing
my older son outside, we finally spent some time as a family, riding very
underused bikes, enjoying the perfect weather, and each other.
The little one was on the red tricycle my best friend bought for my older one when almost 5 years ago (I really need to Marie Kondo my life, but it worked out this time), and he took great joy in calling attention to the difference between his red and his brother’s orange.
I love this view!!!
It
was one of those afternoons you hope will live on forever. In fact, after
arguing about how he didn’t want to go outside, the older one didn’t want to
come back inside…so I didn’t make him. I let him ride to his heart’s
content…because how many days do we get like this in Houston?
Then we did something we don’t normally do. We came inside, and watched Planet Earth II on Netflix and ate microwaved popcorn from a great big bowl. It was a wonderful day.
Sooooo many calories!! At least we had already burned some off outside.
More
importantly, I took the time to enjoy my family. To slow down and savor the
moments with them. To soak them in. In this fast-paced world, we’ve got to do
that more often.
Toddlers are pretty amazing creatures. They’re just great big balls of pure, random emotion. Nothing feels better than the sheer excitement they have when they see you for the first time when they get home at the end of the day: “Mommy!!” with arms outstretched, and smile wide, eyes bright. Similar force of emotion drives their not-so-positive behavior, and he’s not so reasonable when he’s extremely disappointment that the milk is in the green cup instead of the blue one as he requested. Luckily, they’re also really, really cute at this age!
My toddler, also happens to be a sarcastic old man trapped inside a toddler’s body. When he bumped his head the other day, he allowed his dad to briefly comfort him, then quietly walked over to the kitchen where the “real” comforter of the family was cooking. He looked up at me expectantly. I picked him up, and gave him a hug as he laid his head against my chest. “Your head still hurts?” “Yeah,” said in the congratulatory tone of a parent proud of a child for guessing the correct answer mixed with a bit of pitifulness—delivered with a touch of side eye he’s been giving since he was 3 months old. So I patted his back—really laid it on thick. I really thought this was hilarious—how he had just quietly walked away from my husband like—yeah, I’m gonna go get this mama-cuddle, but I’m not gonna hurt your feelings. So funny. He wasn’t dramatic about it at all.
Circle of kisses in bed with the littles
This little one keeps me laughing.
I can’t wait to see who he is as he gets older. My older one, he’s a great big
heart. I tell everyone—I don’t know what he’s going to do, but he’s meant to
touch people’s lives. This younger one…I laugh, because I see him and think “World
Domination.” At 17 months, what’s supposed to be the height of separation anxiety,
he walked into a bustling Halloween party full of screaming 5-7 year old kids
and adults with his chest stuck out, reading the room, with a smirk on his face
and didn’t look for me until it was time to eat. He had everyone eating out of his hands. This
kid is so much fun, and so much challenge. I pray every day he loves school, because
you don’t MAKE him do anything.
Where am I going with this. I don’t
know. Just an ode to my younger son, I guess. An ode to where we are. I
realized that because the toddler days are so crazy, and my experiences with my
older one are so much more—organized, I’d written more about him, and it seemed
unbalanced. Unfair. So this was a shout out to the littler little.
The other day, he walked up to me, out of the blue, and in toddler speak said, “I lub you” while I was doing something random in the living room. I was so touched, because before that, he had only ever said thank you when I told him I loved him. And I wanted to remember it. And now I will.
“Mommy, is Santa Claus real? Really, mommy, tell me the truth.”
I had always promised myself that when my child REALLY asked, he would get just that, the truth. Because that is one of my core values, honesty. Almost to a fault, really. So when he asked while we were doing cuddle time with his 2 year old brother, I quieted him, because we’re supposed to be quiet during cuddle time, and when we went downstairs to read Harry Potter, I texted his dad to be sure it was okay that I told him the truth. It was. “Did someone tell you there wasn’t a Santa Claus?”
“Yes” “Do you think there is a Santa Claus?” “I do, but I want to make sure I’m right.” “Well, logically, do you think there’s a Santa Claus. Does it make sense?” “Well, no. I mean, magic is make-believe. And how does one man get all those presents to everyone?” “If he doesn’t get the presents, who does?’ “Your parents.” “So do you believe in Santa Claus” “I do, but I want to know if I’m right”
A few more rounds of this. I asked him if he really wanted to know the truth and he insisted he did. I told him it might make him a little sad. Then I told him that there isn’t a Santa. Guys, he took it much better than I did, and I was 2 years older when I found out! “So you’ve been buying all my presents?” Mind you, I didn’t exactly get the thank you I hoped for, but I did get a few requests, one of which was for some frogs—which I promptly turned down. The boy can’t take care of plants, and I already have a puppy to try to support. I AM NOT KEEPING FROGS ALIVE TOO! We then talked about his responsibility not to ruin the fun for everyone else. I asked him why the little boy who told him had told him. He was being mean. Of. Course. And he would NOT do that to some other kid. He WOULD NOT. He would let them enjoy the fun until they figured it out for themselves. And then we read a chapter in our first Harry Potter book. They grow up too fast, guys!
Saturday, my son was the first person I told about the site, because I wanted to get his permission to use the rainbow image on the motherhood page. And I created a monster. “Mommy, you have to tell them about our amazing night!” he instructed as I snapped photos of him and his toddler brother having an amazing time. When I decided to have them 5 years apart, so many people had so much to say.
“They won’t be close.” “You sure did wait a long time.”
I had my reasons. One was that a sane mommy is the most important thing in a child’s life, and I hate–loathe–pregnancy. In me. Pregnancy and my body are not friends. But then my son started asking for a brother. Praying for a brother. And my husband and I had discussed two children, and he hadn’t exactly freed me from that promise. So here he is–and I love him.
And I’m amazed that they have such a brotherly bond. The younger is 2 and the older is 7 and they fight and play just like my brother and I did, and we were only 18 months apart. So this evening started with my toddler having a meltdown because he couldn’t have all my decorative pillows to build his personal fort, pillows my 7 year old had already started playing with (I, by the way, don’t approve of any of this fort building with my decorative pillows–but I’m a boy mom, so some battles, you lose). It ended with a shared fort and songs and laughter and hugs. “See how much fun it is when you share?” I hear my older son say to the toddler.
