Big Boy, the wallflower -- yeah, right!

My mother-in-law and her husband came into town yesterday from Alaska. We don't get to see them as often as we like (no, I'm serious, I really like them both), and I was worried about Big Boy's reaction to them, since the last time he saw grandma was a year ago and a year's a long time in a two-year-old's life.

So I really talked up their visit in the days leading up to their arrival. Turns out I had no cause to worry. Right when they got to our house, he took grandma downstairs to show her the bed she'd be sleeping in. He told her she was tired, so she laid down and he covered her up.

Then last night at dinner, Big Boy finished eating before we did, so we let him down from his high chair and he decided he wanted some undies (long story short: he REALLY wanted pull-up diapers and we got them on the condition that he had to go potty in the big boy potty, which lasted about two days so we put him back in regular diapers). So we still had one pull-up diaper in the car in the diaper bag.

He ran out to the garage while all the adults were still eating, and ran back into the dining room, yanked his pants down, tore off the tabs on the diaper, and flung the diaper off. Then he ran around the house with just his shirt on, until he decided to put on his undies. Later, my niece was opening some birthday presents and he took a pack of hairties she'd gotten and started taking one off the package. MrDartt told him those were his cousin's, and he tossed them aside, grabbed a stuffed bunny and started hitting our eight-year-old nephew with it (they'd been wrestling all night, so I guess Big Boy was wound up). I got up to take the bunny from Big Boy, and he quickly stuffed it under his shirt. As grandma's husband pointed out, it's hard to discipline when everyone, including mom, is laughing. But I held it together and put the bunny in toy timeout with the fan Big Boy had used earlier to hit Little Boy in the head.

And to think I'd been worried that he'd turn into a wallflower and not want anything to do with anyone. Ha!

Throughout the night, Big Boy had been asking, "Should we have cake now?" FINALLY, after presents, Big Boy went to ask grandma and Papa R if we could have cake. They said okay, so he went to ask Aunt L and Uncle S. Uncle S said he had to have a hug first. Then grandma and Papa R said they needed hugs too. So then Big Boy ran over to Uncle B and said, "Should we have cake?" and flung his arms around him before planting a kiss on his lips -- kid learns fast, I guess. Or kid really wanted cake.

Anyway, it was a fun night. And grandma and Aunt L did the dishes. Awesome.

today's mission: act like a kid

I love holidays. Of course, you get all the good stuff on holidays, like food, candy, dessert, wine, more food, more wine. But what I really love is that holidays give you time to get together with a bunch of adults and act like a bunch of kids.

This Saturday, my clever mother planned an Easter scavenger hunt. Teams comprised my sister-in-law, my youngest brother's girlfriend and myself against my two brothers and my husband.

The girls wanted to win so bad! We had to run all over town, taking pictures here and videos there (yes, that was us singing "God Bless America" next to the statue downtown). We had to collect wrapped toothpicks and road apples (I'm pretty sure that was my dad's idea).

After my parents privately tallied the results, they suggested a tie-breaker. My brothers and I knew that meant somebody had won, but just by a hair. After the points were cast appropriately (the boys didn't get credit for the video of a live owl -- they'd downloaded it off the internet on a phone; the girls didn't get credit for a picture of a wrecked car -- it wasn't very wrecked and the girls were not in the picture), I decided to review the points myself.

Alas, I found out that the boys had won -- but by one measley point. But a point is a point. I looked at my dad a few times, and he looked at me, and I knew he was waiting for me to concede. So I did. No tie-breaker after all. But next time, the girls will prevail.

Then we had an egg hunt in my parents' house (it rained all day!). I of course found only one egg, before someone helped me find a second one.

My mom said, "I'm suprised your brother has only found one egg."
I said, "Aren't you surprised I've only found one egg?"
She said, "No, he's a better looker than you are."

So it wasn't totally like being a kid -- when we were kids, my mom never would have admitted that she thinks my brother's a better looker than I am. But I guess you can't really go back.

We had so much fun that evening, and I propose that every adult take a little time each day to act like a kid. You don't have to go on a scavenger hunt and get a photo of yourself standing on your head at Big O Tires, but do something fun, just because! And remember, winning isn't everything. (Yeah, right.)

Big Boy's Pocket

Today, two things happened: Big Boy put his own socks on for the first time – yippee! – and later, in the car, he told me he had time in his pocket.

The quick consecutive occurrence of these two things got me thinking. I often feel rushed and frazzled as I move through each day. I’m a regular laundry-washing-and-folding conveyer belt, carpet vacuumer and a toy picker-upper. I’m scheduling appointments while I’m scribbling bill payments. I’m nursing an infant while making pb and j for a toddler.

So today, after Big Boy had finally succeeded in getting his socks on, we were driving (in a rush) to the grocery store. He spotted a restaurant that has an indoor play area and asked if we could go there.

I told him, “Maybe later, if we have time.” He squirmed around in his seat, digging his hand into his pocket, and then pulled out something neither of us could see.
“I have time, Mommy,” he said, holding his hand up for me to see. “Right here! We can go! I have time!”

For some reason, I suddenly felt very sad. Nobody can just pull time out of his pocket. So while I’m rushing to and fro, trying to keep the house clean and the laundry done, my little boy is learning to put on his socks and make a very tall block tower.

But I can’t get this time back. He’ll never be 2 again, struggling to get his shirt on right and his undies on frontwards, and rejoicing in getting his sock on over that darn pinky toe. Sure, 10 years from now, he will have different challenges and successes. But he’ll be in school and at sports practice and I won’t have a front row seat to these things that happen in his life.

So I have resolved to spend more time focusing on my boys and the little, yet amazing things they accomplish each day, whether it’s getting socks on or sitting up. That other stuff can wait (as long as we have clean underwear). And when somebody figures out how to get more time, I just might start to worry about the dishes.

main players -- human

Four humans, two canines and two felines live in our house. And various houseplants in varying stages of the life cycle. I thought you should know more about all of us (except the houseplants -- I'm kind of embarrassed to elaborate):

First, the humans:

There’s me, Mrs. Dartt. I’m a 20-something (almost 30!) wife, mother, writer and optimist who likes pretty much everybody but also has quite a list of pet peeves.

Then there’s Mr. Dartt. He’s a 30-something husband, dad, hard worker and pessimist who is surprised when things turn out well and is grudgingly accepting optimism as a good lifestyle.

Our two children, Big Boy and Little Boy, are 2.5 years old and seven months old, respectively.

Big Boy is a rambunctious, ever-moving firecracker who enjoys going down slides, singing and running on the treadmill (he only got to do it once under Mr. Dartt’s supervision before Mrs. Dartt found out about it and laid down the law – what a party pooper, right?). He loves Curious George books. He talks nonstop and has only recently discovered that he likes to sing.

Little Boy is relaxed, smiley and cuddly (all unlike his big brother). He spits up constantly but seems to enjoy it. He also bursts into tears when certain friends and family members speak to him. I'm hoping this is just a phase and that he will not continue to do this throughout his life. I hope he outgrows it before a girl he is dating when he's a teenager brings him home to meet her parents. "Hello, Little Boy, nice to meet you." (Eyes squint shut, mouth opens and screams ensue.)

Check in later for introductions to the canines and felines.

Hope everybody is having a wonderful day -- and looking forward to a relaxing weekend!