Err Ready for Halloween?

Well, it's been all prep, prep, prep for Halloween these last weeks, and we're closing in on it as we speak. Last night was a Halloween party at Matt and Michele's, and the boys (Theo, Axel and Henry - or should I say SpiderMan, Captain Jack Sparrow and Shrek) were in their full glory. It's fun to see them grow up - these boys that weren't even here just three short years ago.
Henry and I also spent last Friday morning at the zoo, where the annual "Pumpkin Prowl" was in full effect. There, literally, were close to two thousand jack-o-lanterns spread throughout the zoo. Henry just had a ball. And, frankly, I did too. Nothing like ghost and goblins (and two thousand pumpkins) to get you in the Halloween spirit. It's all a fantastic lead-up to the day...and this year we're pretty sure he gets what's going to happen because he just loves all the hoop-lah. Two is definitely a fun age. This morning, for example, he asked me "Err ready for Halloween Momma?" Which is such a great reminder of how two is this intersection between baby and kid. He still uses "Err" when he means "you" or "your" (ex. - Do err like cereal Momma? or Err brushing err hair?), but he completely understands and appreciates that we're preparing for something special - like a big kid. It's just so much fun.
My favorite "err" quote of the week, by the way: Scene: Henry and I at the snack bar in the zoo. Dialouge: "Momma - Daddy is carving a jack-o-latern tonight and Henry's going to be scared and err going to be scared. Okay? Okay, Momma?" Happy Halloween, everyone. I hope err ready.

Beautiful Blue Dog

On Thursday of last week, Henry and I spent one of our days (we have two days at the end of every "work" week to be together now) shopping at Target, Barnes and Noble and traveling down to Puyallup to see Great Grams (GG). We had a good day - we found shelves for the kitchen, got two new Curious George books and a Old Maid Curious George game - and got to see GG and get a new "money jar." We came home - tired, but feeling great. Until bedtime. Dave was having dinner with a friend and I put Henry to bed. It was then that I remembered that blue dog was in the car - I was too lazy to go get him, so I told Henry he was taking a bath and that we'd see him tomorrow. Fast forward to the next day at naptime when I actually went out to the car to get him - and he wasn't there. I knew he'd been in the car with us on Thursday and I knew we hadn't taken him out. I completely and absolutely panicked. I searched the house anyway (desparate times...) and then put Henry in the car and went and searched all the parking lots we'd been in the day before. An hour later we were home with no blue dog and me in some wierd state of craziness. I literally could not stop crying. I called Dave and I must've sounded just nuts enough, because he came home early to make sure we were okay. A weekend of emotional starts and stops later (and calls to everywhere we'd been) and I found blue dog on Monday. It turns out we'd left him at Barnes and Noble and a worker there took him home for her kids (after she gave him a bath, she said - no suprise to me, as that dog stinks like dirt and spit and two and a half years of little-boy-living). She brought him back and all is well. And now I'm wondering how it is that I got so momenumentally crazy over a small, stinky stuffed animal. I'm not sure I understand it, I just know that he has been Henry's best friend and a part of everything these last years. A central character in his baby years. And I simply love that silly dog. Is this the kind of craziness that comes with being a mother? Holy shit, it sure feel like a bowling ball to the stomach sometimes. :) But - all that said -I've made a Seward executive deicsion, and blue dog is staying home from now on. That little turkey can't try to sneak off and live with another family. I'm (I mean Henry) is just too crazy about him.

Missing Henry

It’s my sixth hour in the Toronto airport. I’ve been waiting for a flight to New York. Storms have made the flight late and now the backup of planes means that it might be another hour or two before we’re able to take off. Frustrating. There is the annoyance that comes with too many hours in uncomfortable seats, the amount of money spent on bad airport pizza and glossy magazines, and the irritation I feel listening to brash New York businessmen vocalize how much THEY are inconvenienced by waiting hours in an airport. But, more frustrating than all these things put together is my guttural reaction to families walking by with kids. I notice little boys with blonde hair and chunky legs and sandals. Kids laughing loudly, running as fast they can from parents who are trying to coral them before their flights. I miss Henry. I shouldn’t be in an airport in Toronto, I should be picking him up from daycare. I sometimes find myself in the classic working mother scenario (too many hours at work, not enough time at home – or the other way around) and feel guilty about it. But never so much as I do when I travel. Especially when Henry is at this fantastic period in his life. Every day brings a new word, a new realization about the world. On our “conference call” this morning, he told me, “Mommy on airplane. COME BACK!” Come back. Indeed, that’s what I need to do. If only I could get on the damn plane.

A Return.

I’ve decided to break back into blogging. The reason: it's the easiest way to keep track of Henry.

Last week, a good friend of mine asked me about some milestones during Henry’s first year. And I had to go back to the blog to find out when he did what. That’s the kind of scrap-booking, baby memory-keeping mother that I am not, apparently. In any case, I thought I better start up again – as the milestones (and the words) are coming fast and furious these days.

There are a couple key things going on with that boy now:

-He’s learned to express his discontent with us saying “no” by countering with, “Why not?” When we first heard him say it, we had to take a step back. “Why not?” Well…don’t say it…don’t even think about saying it… Okay, let's go with… “Because Mommy and Daddy don’t drink apple juice for dinner either. We drink water.” “Because we worked really hard to make the floors look nice and it’s doesn’t look nice to have crayon marks on them.” “Because the other kids at daycare might get upset if you took blue dog, jars of money, your spider man cup (insert any other object that happens to be near him on the way out the door) to school and don’t want to share.” “Because, even if the oven isn’t on and hot, it’s still not a toy.” … But, you know, in reality we’re only a few short weeks, days even, away from saying it. It’s coming... “Because I told you so.”

-He is completely in love with public transportation. So, this Saturday, the three of us got on the bus at the stop right down the hill from our house and took a trip downtown to the book store. Henry was thrilled. He looked all the passengers in the eye and said, “Daddy, Mommy, Henry ride the bus.” In case they were interested. When we got to the bookstore, Henry went straight for just about the worst book in the place, entitled something along the lines of, “The New Adventures of Scooby Doo and Friends.” His choice. One of many choices that I imagine we will think we can make better than he can. But, it’s what we went home with. And he loves it.

-He also loves to skip. I’m going to try to upload a video we have of it to this blog, as the skipping is something to see. It’s the oddest thing – he moves his shoulders like he’s skipping, but doesn’t lift his fee off the floor. Instead of jumping up in a skip action, he moves them around on the floor like James Brown circa 1969 singing “I Feel Good.” I’m not sure there are words to describe what this looks like when executed from such a small, two-year old form, but it’s quite fantastic.