David-isms September 30

• David likes to help himself to breakfast as soon as he crawls out of bed in the morning. I guess if I had his energy, I would need to fuel it as soon as my head popped off the pillow, too. Yesterday morning we were a little low on groceries. His concoction ended up being bran flakes and buttermilk. Mmmm. Sounds like a breakfast of champions to me.
• He was a little disgruntled with his breakfast, and declared it to be "ickscusting!" His morning turned around, however, when he opened our back door to see about four inches of snow in our backyard. I was excited when it all melted off by noon, and returned to fall colors. September is a little too early for snow in my book.
• One of my new things with letting David out of timeout is that he can get off the chair when he's ready to sing me a song. It helps his mood turn around before he leaves time out, instead of returning with a vengeance. It's a version of what my mom did with us once upon a time. I like this arrangement a lot--he's happy to put on his best performing self and share all the dramatics of a song or two for my pure enjoyment.
• After seven (yes, seven!!) years of being a one car family, we bought an oldie but goodie as a second vehicle this week. David gladly tells everyone he sees about our "BRAND NEW CAR!!!" The car with all the bragging rights? A '96 Explorer. Oh, how he wanted to ride in it when we brought it home the first time. But for the moment, we only have one car seat for our little man--and it was already secured into the Toyota. So we followed Daddy while he drove home our "BRAND NEW CAR!!!" We told David he could ride it in on Saturday, after we  had taken care of the registration, etc. He kept track, and on Saturday, he proudly took his place in the back seat of our "BRAND NEW CAR!!!" The joy ride was only from our driveway to a parking place on the street in front of our house--but wow, it made a little boy giddy with excitement over his "BRAND NEW CAR!!!"

Guilty (but not convicted)

Orange jump suit and all.

When I first saw him, he was at the very top of the gate, like he was about to swing a leg over to go down the other side. By the time I retrieved my camera, he had reasoned himself out of that little stunt, much to my relief, and was on his way back down! He didn't know I had seen anything at all, and was very proud to report on his boyish antics when he was back on the ground. How on earth am I going to keep up with this boy's energy needs this winter? I think I'll start looking for toddler cross country skis.

Artwork

David is not an artist. Not in the sense that he can't do it, but in the sense that it doesn't really interest him. Art projects at our table last maximum 5 minutes. When I give him a pallet of paints, the first thing he does is mix all the colors together. And really, how fun is painting with brown? Put him on the piano, he'll entertain and be entertained for 30-45 minutes. But art? It's just not a place he focuses his energy.

Last week he was a little too rambunctious in nursery at church. He got riled up, and it was hard for the teacher to settle him down (and keep him from riling up everyone else). So this week he baked cookies and made his teacher a card to take to her in apology. I was stunned when he actually drew the card for her. And he included a self portrait--with very clear eyes, mouth, head, arms, legs. He of course wrote the letters of his name in various directions, and once even properly clustered together. But mostly I was thrilled to see him create a piece of art, not just letters.

When I dropped him off, he had to take his cookies and card up to the door by himself while I waited for him. On our drive over, we reviewed again why he was making the visit and what he wanted to tell the teacher when she came to the door. He was a little sullen and unsure getting out of the car, but then he took off running across their lawn, clutching the cookies and card. The dear teacher came to the door to wait for him, when David realized he was missing the point by running across the lawn. So he ran back to the curb, and jumped on all of the red stepping stones leading to her sidewalk. He and his green rubber boots didn't miss a single one. The cookies nearly dumped, and the card almost blew away while the little boy holding them focused on zig-zagging back and forth through rows of stepping stones. Meanwhile, the teacher waited. I waited. Her family came to the door and waited. And we were all having the time of our lives watching. He was so cheerful by the time he reached the door, he couldn't really remember why he was there, other than to deliver good cheer with his plate of cookies.

Maybe David's artistic perspective is in showing the rest of us the fun details of our world. It's not about creating something from nothing--it's about creating fun and carefree with what we've already got.

And if you ask me, that's a lot more fun than a plate full of brown paint.

Davidisms--September 22

• "Mom, the only food my body wants right now is hot dogs and ice cream. All the other food will make me a very naughty boy." Lucky for all of us, pasta was on the menu--so he was agreeable after all.
• When I watched the Olympics, I thought about how the synchronized swimming is a little like what our pew looked like at church one particular week. Arms and legs shooting into the air, size 8 shoes dancing above the pews without any visible body attached, and an occasional leap up. (Except there's nothing synchronized, as I don't join him in the antics.) The poor people behind us who try to be pious while witnessing such a show. Oh, and his non-whispering voice makes it all the more exciting, "Mom!!! Stop whispering on my cheek!" I'm happy to report that since we reached that particular pinnacle of imperfection, David has greatly improved in his reverent behavior.
• "Reglier" instead of regular.
• David opened our front door the other day and in his cheeriest voice exclaimed, "What a horrible day!!" Me: Oh, it's a beautiful day! David (excitedly, cheerily): "Yes! Just horrible!" I'll correct him on his choice of words when it loses the entertainment value. Right now we like to giggle at it.
• Me: David, do you want to be a missionary someday?" David: "Yes. First a primary kid, then a missionary."

Cabin Camping 2012

It's that time of year again. We had a wonderful trip to visit the public use cabin on Kelly Lake. We were there in 2010, and we opted to return to the same cabin because it was only about 1/4 mile distance to pack in the gear. It's a good amount--to feel like we're going into the wilderness and also to feel like we're close enough to the car to use it as an extension of camp if necessary.

We went with our friends the Larsens, making it the 5th time we've gone cabin camping together since the winter of 2008. We practically have it down to a science, we don't coordinate much more than the meals anymore. It's a lot of fun to enjoy the Alaskan beauties with good friends.

The boys would tromp through the spongy moss forest bottom calling out "bushy berry bushy berry." We didn't get them to stay within sight very well, but they were always within ear shot. I loved watching their little boy imaginations take off in the middle of the forest.

 Getting ready for a morning boat ride with the men folk.

 See that spot of heaven on earth?

One visitor recently exclaimed,
"It's a post card everywhere you turn!" 

That's the pristine Alaskan wilderness for you.

 And they're off.

 So thankful for that glassy lake.

 One of my very favorite things about being a mom is that I am the person he runs to when adventure and excitement is pumping through his little body. He jumped out of the boat, ran up the path and found me on the porch of the cabin.

 Just to show me the evidence of a really really good time on the lake.

 For most of the weekend, we were bundled up while the temperature bounced around between the 40's and early 50's. It drizzled here and there and the wind came and went, but thankfully the storms of earlier in the week were well past by the time we were in the great outdoors.

 Guess who falls into the role of leader of the pack!?!

Sam had plenty of helpers on that saw.

 Not knowing what the weather would be like, and not really wanting to imagine what it would be like to have 3 small boys holed up in a cabin in bad weather, the moms each brought plenty of activities to keep little hands busy. Tempura paints quickly turned into an outdoor activity as these little boys decorated the tree stumps.

  While the weather was blustery outside, Sam entertained the boys by playing games on the "bunkin' bed." (The streamers and sign were to celebrate Courtney's birthday. We've linked our cabin camping trips each year to a birthday--Jess's, Sam's or Courtney's. I mentioned that we need to go in April sometime, but I got a collective moan at the thought. No one wants to camp in icy mud.)

Falling asleep on the "bunkin' bed" was definitely a highlight for David. When we went to bed, we moved him to a fort made out of the benches and table all scooted together. He claimed that he was not happy with the arrangement. He wanted to sleep on the bunkin bed all night--but alas, luckily he didn't know about the switch until the morning. In reality, I don't think the "fort bed" he woke up in was much of a disappointment either.

Eventually we took a boat ride with six of us--three adults, three boys.

 These two boys went from being the boat's rudder to acting like the mast, then moved on to the mascot at the stern. Oh, they were having a good time!

 While we were on the boat, Sam tended the fires so we'd have warmth to greet us after the lake.

When the Nutella finally softened a bit, we polished off the camping trip with a nutella sandwich, a big smile . . .

 and two minutes before we pulled into our driveway, the excitement finally gave way to a nap.

 And as we packed up, the clouds gave way to sunshine. I waited for the men folk to return from one last trip to the cabin with the boat, and I sunned myself on a rock and watched fish swim in the lake at my feet. No, it's not warm enough to think about splashing my toes in the water.

But it was warm enough to sit there and take it all in.
I just can't get enough of this grandeur beauty Alaska offers me!

The Storm of 2012

"They" say that if it had been in the lower 48, the storm system would have covered 5 states.

"They" also say that the wind was as strong as Hurricane Isaac at landfall. 

(88mph at McHugh, 103mph at Glenn Allen parking lot)

I say that I'm thankful, we didn't have hurricane floods.

I also say the wind storm was a real doozer, and it kept me up all night wondering when our deck's plastic roof would be flying off.

I wandered around my yard in the morning,  reporting to my friend all of the things missing from our yard. Things like the huge rubbermaid tote and our small hibachi grill.

When I repeated all of the excitement to Sam, he calmly told me he had safely tucked the missing items into our shed. So much for my tall tales.

BUT~! It was still a doozer of a storm. Usually when we get wind storms like this, we have frozen ground to anchor the trees. This time the trees just brought the ground up with the whole root system. Or the whole lawn, like this one:

This guy needs a truck to just stand his tree back up, please. It's a random photo pulled from my friend's blog, who pulled it from facebook. I think it's an impressive view of that root system!

Trees are down all over town, and power lines went down too. We didn't lose power, but we are the only people I know to not lose it for at least 17 hours. Some for as many as 4 days. Lots of sounds of generators and chain saws. Our neighbor 3 doors down had a tree fall on his truck. He rolled the tree off his truck, and it's still in the road. Maybe he's waiting for the city to come haul it off? Another tree on our street is leaning on another tree next to it. Both are at least 30 feet tall birch trees. It looks like it could do some damage if it slipped from its perch and came crashing down.

So excitement was in the air, and David was more than happy to run around the yard the morning after the storm. "I'm fixin' the storm, Mom." He explained over and over as he took his work very seriously to stack small branches and pile up leaves. (apparently my camera couldn't figure things out with the low light and the fast boy--so all we got were blurry pics)

 When it started to rain again, and we came indoors, David must have still felt a little vulnerable.
He gathered everything on the main floor that he could pick up and barricaded the door.

Can you see the little boy tangled in his own booby trap? That's our David! Setting a trap and then trying it out on himself. Tee hee hee!

 We feel blessed that it was exciting, but not too much of an adventure with our power staying on.

Post Script

After I wrote this post about how much David loves to listen to the world around him, I realized something. David was born left ear first (as opposed to the crown of his head). That makes me think that his ear was tuned in to his world from the very start.

Three

Oh, how I delight in our little guy. Three is such a charming age.

As we make our way through errands around town, I hold his hand in the parking lot (the only place left where I'm allowed to hold his hand) and we swing hands while we sing, "When David holds your hand, you feel so grand, your heart starts beating like a big brass band!" 

Or sometimes I'll look over at him and say, "I love my boy." And he comes back with "I love my girl."

Today we were super hungry coming home from 1 pm church--and Daddy was still in meetings, so dinner was on hold. David ate a piece of cantaloupe while I sang him a song about "Hungry hungry I am hungry, table table, here I come. I could eat a goosemoose burger, fifteen pickles and a purple plum." It's the perfect storm of words, and I hammed it up for him in opera style. David turned on the belly laughter for me, and my silly antics were well rewarded. (Although probably not something that will be repeated for any other audience.) We were having a great time, and all smiles after that about waiting for dinner.

Yes, he's still a little mischievous. I think the examples are funny, so here's a few to document. He took a knife to all of the bags in my chest freezer. So now when I move things around, I get things falling out from their proper bags. When I clean out the freezer, I'll have quite the concoction of berries, green peas, corn and green beans at the bottom. That happened about three weeks after David proudly announced that he had turned off the heater. Thus the mystery was solved as to why our freezer occasionally seems to "go out" on us. The dial was being turned up and down by little hands.

And this morning he dug in the pantry to find a hand-crank food chopper still in its box. He took it out, properly assembled it, and promptly put a loaf of freshly baked zucchini bread in it to see what it would do. Tomorrow for breakfast he'll get zucchini bread crumbs in a bowl. I'm sure it's still yummy--especially because David takes after his Daddy in putting milk on anything that can get soggy.

But for the most part, I hear his sweet voice or see his efforts to help clean, or his realization that he made a mistake, and his desire to make it right--and my heart just melts. He is very imaginative. Most of the day, he insists on being called "Peanut." Because "I'm not a boy, mom. I'm a dog." The hard and fast line is that Peanut has to come to the table as a boy so he can use his little boy manners. Oh, and Peanut doesn't leave the house with us--or else David's knees and hands would be sweeping every floor in this town.

David has his cards that he does every morning for a ticket. He brushes his own teeth in the morning, and he makes his own bed, brushes his hair, takes his vitamins, then he brings me the scripture story picture book and says, "It's time for scriptures and prayer, mom." And the whole world stops while we read his version of the scriptures.

Doesn't this sight make you smile, too? It gets me every time.

I recently picked up a(nother!) parenting book called Your Three Year Old by Louise Bates Ames. In her opening pages, she says this, "Three now enjoys other children, but most of all he enjoys his mother. He loves to do things with her--go for a walk, go to the store, "help" with housework, and above all, play. He is happiest when his mother finds it possible to give up other activities and concentrate on him. Almost anything the two of you do together brings him joy. It is bliss to have Mother read to him, play games with him, talk to him, just be near him."

Yes, that is where we are at. And I am soaking up every minute I can from this delightful little three year old. Some people ask me where I'm going to send him to preschool. And I think "Send him? I'm keeping him! I am the stay at home mom of one little boy. Don't take these moments from me. I will be his teacher. And I will reap all the delight from that."

So I am trying to establish more of the structure and predictability in his day to help him thrive. And I'm doing my best to give him time to learn social skills with friends. I love it when his playmates treat him more like a sibling, less like a special guest who gets served up whatever toy he wants in the moment "because he is our guest." Too much of that, and the social scene backfires. I want David to learn to share, and in the trenches at friends' houses is the only place I can do that.

Oh, how I love my three year old. I want to bottle him up with all of his enthusiasm for life.

I love this little guy of mine!

David's Best Gift

Our little man's best gift is his ears. He is so infatuated with the idea of hearing everything.

When we run around town, he'll ask me, "Mom, can you please roll down my window so I can listen to that big truck next to us?" Or if he sees an airplane overhead, he excitedly asks the same thing, but with much more urgency. He knows the airplane sound will soon be lost, and he doesn't believe his life will be complete without experiencing the sound of it. After he hears the loud plane, he calls it a 24-2. Which is his version of saying F-22 from the airshow a few weeks back.

When he identifies a new sound, he sits back in his car seat and grins from ear to ear. His whole body smiles with the pleasure of that discovery.

Then there was the night Daddy was singing to him at bedtime. He was quickly interrupted by our pal. "No Daddy! It doesn't go like that. It goes like this!" And he proceeds to sing the exact same words, the exact same tune, just in a different key. Can he really hear that Mom's voice sings in a different key than Dad's when we sing it on subsequent nights?!?

The best thing you can give those little ears is a new song. Oh, how he loves to hear a new song. And he'll probably ask you to sing it three times in a row, then on the fourth time he'll sing along with you.

Sometimes David's favorite thing to hear is his own voice. Often, he likes it more than he likes to breathe. He chats and chats and chats with us, especially if he's being reunited with one of his parents. His connecting phrase is "Dad (or Mom), do you know what?" (Leaving out all unnecessary consonants, like "Da'dyouknowha?") This phrase is often followed by his tongue coming out and swiping across his top lip--where he grabs a quick breath in. Then he'll start a new tangent of conversation. Or monologue, if you prefer. Sam and I look at each other and giggle while our little guy is trying to fill us in on his view of this wide wide world. It's an absolutely delightful view!