the boy
On the Bed, on the Couch
Spring Planting
Another unbelievably sunny morning. Perfect for what we'd planned for the day: spring planting, which the weather and our schedule has put off for two weeks.
First task: purchases. We drove across town to our favorite nursery to pick up veggies and flowers, but the Boy decided that he must -- simply must -- run like a maniac.
"E, if you don't stay with me," I explained, wondering how much he understands. At what point can a child understand cause and effect? Certainly not his age, but we must begin at some point. "If you don't stay with me, we'll go to the car."
He ran off; we headed to the car.
The Boy spent the rest of the visit fussing in his car seat; I spent the rest of the visit listening to the Magliozzi brothers on Car Talk with accompanying screams, cries, and general tantrum-related noises from the back seat.
In the meantime, the Girl picked out flowers with K, always drawn to the most expensive flowers: six, seven bucks for one. In the end, K bought her one expensive flower -- a lovely blue and white blossom that is completely unknown to me and will be for all time, as inept with flowers as I am -- and several less expensive but equally lovely varieties.
The rest of the day was a furry of preparing the raised beds (which took most of the rest of the morning), and planting, planting, planting. Then came the grilling, grilling, grilling. And more time with the grandparents.
And finally, after the bathing, bathing, bathing, some relaxing for K and me.We finished up a Coen brothers' film (Inside Llewyn Davis -- how can a protagonist be so utterly unlikable?) and then just sat on the couch, TV off, the sounds of the evening pulling us to bed, though for me, not so directly.
A good day.
On the Couch
His lips vibrating in a blur of motion, he makes a put-put-put sound for all his vehicles, pushing his tractor in circles and stopping the sound effect just long enough to proclaim, “Tata!Kosi!” How he knows that large tractors can be used to mow is another of the mysteries of a toddler, chief among them the babbling, chirping, squealing, and shouting mix with his improvised words, a mix of Polish, and English and apparent nonsense, a most rudimentary language that only he can understand. Only he and perhaps other toddlers, equally fascinated with the sounds that come from their own mouths and the miracle of adult speech seems to accomplish miracles through mere utterance.
Sticks and Blossoms
Bilingual Homophones
The Boy has been learning to talk for the last few months, and like all kids his age, he has begun extrapolating to amusing results. When indicating that he wanted a bit of chocolate once, K told him he could have pół, which is “half” in Polish, pronounced “poo.” You can probably already see where I’m going with this: when the Boy sees chocolate, asks for pół, and then excited realizes that he’s going indeed to get it, he starts repeating it obsessively, often in pairs. Which makes it difficult to know when he wants chocolate and when he wants to go to the potty chair…
Morning Rituals
The day should begin like this. Every single day. Of course, it's April, which, according to the cliche, brings showers, indicating gray skies. Still, such an April is rare here in our part of the South.
Breakfast each day should be leisurely enough to include play.
If it's raisin bread on the menu, there should be plenty of time to load a truck with raisin bread and unload it.
Again, and again, and again.
Of course, the same goes for Cheerios, should that appear on the menu.
And there should be enough time after breakfast to play with trucks in the warm morning sun wearing your favorite shirt.
Spring Break 2014, Day 1
The day started in L's room. The Boy loves being with his big sister, and she's matured to the point that we know she's not going to do anything crazy -- too crazy -- with the Boy, so I left them upstairs to their own devices while I finished some grading, but the laughter and sounds of an impending mess drew me up the stairs.
Of course the kitten had her own entertainment. The Girl talked the family into a cat tower: that term doesn't do it any justice at all. What we have, in fact, is a sort of feline Burj Khalifa. But she likes it, and the Girl likes that fact, and today, they were both thoroughly entertained,
though for different reasons.
We ended the morning, the Boy down for his nap, with the Girl recording a story. For whom? For you, of course.
But I never took the time today to transfer it from camera, so perhaps tomorrow?
Mulch, Sun, and a Couch
A bright blue sky this morning, with the small, new leaves providing contrast, made it a morning full of bleary-eyed promise. That makes it sound like I really didn’t know what we would be doing during the day, that it was just promising. I knew exactly what I would be doing; K knew precisely what she’d be doing. I had a pile of mulch, a never-ending gift, that I was determined to spread through the entire universe (so it seemed I’d have to do to get rid of ten yards of mulch — ten yards! What was I thinking?)
We got an early start: with the Boy waking at seven in the morning, we were eating breakfast by half-past, and I was out taking care of a couple of small projects before tackling the mulch.
Still, with the morning sun giving the kitchen a golden glow, it was hard not to get excited about the morning. Right — whom am I kidding? We could have all used more sleep, all but the Boy.
Still, that blue sky, that warmth. I am lucky: all of my work in K’s and my division of labor is outside work. K stays inside, cleaning, cooking, helping L with her Polish lessons. So I really couldn’t complain this morning: blue sky, good coffee, work outside. Besides, my exhaustion was all my fault, staying up too late yet again on Friday night.
In the afternoon, Nana and Papa came over to help out. Papa sat with the Boy on the couch for who knows now long, playing cars, sometimes struggling to decipher the words that K, L, and I so easily understand.
We’ll make a video of it at some point, then find ourselves surprised in a couple of years when, watching old videos, we can’t understand him ourselves.
Mulch
The Boy has learned a new word: mulch.
It’s the endless pile. I’ve been working on it for two evenings, and I don’t feel I’ve made a dent in it. Jesus had the fishes and loaves; I have a pile of mulch.