That's All Folks...

Dave has been traveling a ton for work, new clients, new business, all good for him and Colle & McVoy, not so good for me, Cole and Tucker. I think it is awesome that my talented husband is in such high demand, but I feel a bit like Cole on the days when he just wants to hide his toys and isn't in the mood to share.

But reality is what it is and thus Dave is going international this week, flying off to the far away land of Germany for a week. It is difficult enough to connect with him when he is stateside and in the throes of deals and transactions and presentations oh my, let alone in a timezone 8 hours ahead.

So he decided that it was time to learn what everyone else seems to have already mastered, SKYPE. As long as he has internet connection which he isn't 100% sure of, we will be able to "see" one another instead of just settling for hearing one another's voice.

He bought a webcam & microphone long ago, I don't remember why but it has been collecting dust in a drawer so he pulled that out and hooked it up and voila. We practiced with him upstairs on his computer and Cole and I downstairs in my office on mine. It took us a little getting used too but I think we know enough that we can muster through.

Dave came back downstairs to give me passwords and such and Cole ran upstairs as he wanted to "get on daddy's puter". We watched as he sprang into Dave's office, his face filling the screen. He likes to come in close so you get a full shot of his adorable mug. Dave spoke silly to him and got him laughing. He kept moving around (as he typically does 99% of the day) so it was like watching an action movie rather than just talking to someone. This went on for a few minutes when he suddenly blurts out "okay, show's over". Dave and I looked at one another and burst out in laughter, where did he ever hear that? He could hear us reacting and so with glee, continued to repeat this.

It obviously lost its initial performance value but nonetheless became instantly blogworthy.

I don't want a dirty banana...

Cole is a very very very selective eater. He ate many more foods as a toddler than he does as a pre-schooler. The past six months he keeps me guessing as one week he will eat corn or peas and the next week, he won't touch them. One day he will eat noodles with butter and the next he is shrieking because he doesn't want the "sauce". He will devour blueberries, apples and strawberries and then say 24 hours later "I don't like those". He won't touch chicken nuggets (or most meat proteins), has NEVER taken to yogurt and shies away from most veggies. So cooking for him is a frustrating task. I have thought about just giving him a plate a food and if he eats it, great and if he doesn't, then he will if he is hungry enough. However, he is already reed thin and wiry because of his 5am-8pm GO GO GO schedule (no more naps sadly except the occasional crash mid-afternoon on our couch) and thus I worry about his caloric intake. He does drink almost 1 1/2 gallon of milk each week, eats eggs, cheese and turkey hot dogs and lots of organic fruit. I am hopeful he will embrace a broader menu as he grows.

Anyway, this week he has been a little monkey, noshing on bananas. I peel them typically so he doesn't see them before they hit his plate. Sitting on the stool in the kitchen as I made homemade tomato sauce, he asked for a banana (his second before 8am), my hands were full of tomato seeds/skins so I told him to take one and peel it. He said "but I don't want a dirty banana". I realized he thought the few brown spots on the skin was dirt. I explained that the banana was perfectly fine, he looked at me as if I was trying to pull a fast one. So he peeled it back and voila, he smiled and said "oh, okay...yummy"

I love MY Pickle...

I still remember the evening of Cole's birth like it was yesterday...following the hoopla of having an emergency C-section after a half-day of pushing and all the commotion of the previous hours, I lay there in recovery in the middle of the night letting the reality of his arrival sink in. The nurses had left us alone, Dave had crashed out hard on the pull out chair and was breathing deeply and Cole lay in my arms sleeping off his delivery hangover. Adrenaline still coursed through my mind and body and yet I was calm, completely content with Cole's sweet smell drifting around me. I had tried my darnedest to have a productive labor but my wee one was a week beyond his due date and hence wasn't so wee plus he had decided to turn sideways in the birth canal before becoming wedged. He was battered and bruised as a result and looked as if he had decided to fight his eviction notice. As I gazed down at his sleeping form, I began talking to him, telling him all about how we had waited for this day, how I felt from day one that he was a boy and that he had such a future of adventure ahead of him. His face was all scrunched up and prune-like so typical of a newborn. To me, he looked like a pickle. That very night, his nickname was also born.

Three and half years later, I still call him PICKLES...even his classmates at school have heard me use it. It comes out unconsciously most times. It is just our thing. As a toddler he used to actually eat pickles and make the laugh-out-loud pucker face but as he grew more picky with foods, he stopped eating them. So he will forever be my PICKLES and I will continue to use it here and there until one day when I say it and embarrass him. Then, I will have my moment and grieve over the loss of a once intimate communication and realize it is one of many things I will have to let go of over the course of his lifetime.

Flowers and Dumptrucks

Cole and I took a recent Monday morning and had an adventure at the University of Minnesota's Landscape Arboretum. We had not been there in probably two years and I forgot what an amazing place it is. The gardens and flowers and fountains, the stones, and sculptures and shady trees, oh my...acres and acres of lush plants and blooms! I absolutely love flowers and actually prefer seeing them in yards than in vases.

Anyway, I was oohhing and ahhhing my way down the various paths while Cole was checking out every possible water feature and finding rocks and steps to jump off of. I was attempting to snap pictures of him amongst the beautiful backdrop and doing close up shots of some of my favorites.

Cole turns to me after about an hour and poses the question "mommy, you love flowers, they make you happy?" I said, "yes buddy, mommy loves all these flowers, they make me happy just like you do!". He nods as if my confirmation of his thought was expected. He turns to me and goes "well, I love dumptrucks, they make me happy" and then proceeds to make the sounds of a dumptruck backing up (beep, beep, beep) as he backs himself up the stony walk. I just had to laugh out loud and agree!