No, I just like milk and water...

Dave has been gone for six days helping his Grammie move from "The Crick" in Maryland to her new home in Colorado. He helped his sister and mom pack things up and then he drove two 16 hour days with a full Penske truck and Margie's car on the carrier. They (both of his sister's live in CO) unloaded quickly and helped to set Margie up in her new space, Dave then spent a night at his sister Kelley's house and flew home today in time for the Twins Game (free booze and food c/o Colle & McVoy which he did NOT want to miss out on).

Cole, Tucker and I picked him up at baggage claim. Cole had been quite melancholy the longer Dave was absent. He is used to his daddy traveling a great deal for work but never for six days straight. We excitedly (well, Tucker and I since Cole fell asleep on the drive to the airport) greeted Dave who had sprouted a beard during his travels.

We came home and Cole immediately wanted to play trucks and wrestle around with his daddy. As Cole followed him into the kitchen Dave asked him whether he liked his beard to which Cole replied "No, I just like milk and water, I don't drink juice or beer, that is so silly, just daddies drink beer and mommies drink juice (I call my wine "mommy juice""...obviously thinking Dave said BEER not BEARD...we had a good laugh and I was delighted to see Cole so receptive to Dave considering this morning, he said to me "Daddy still isn't home, he has been gone a long time and that makes me sad". He then got quite indifferent when I mentioned we were going to pick up Dave a few hours later. Luckily in the world of a three and a half year old, you don't need to explain much why you've been gone, all that matters is that you have returned!

My little writer...

He might not be potty trained like 90% of his peers but Cole has always strayed from the "normal" range of activity/development for his age group and done his own thing his own way (hmmm, sound like anyone else you might know??)...so although he still proudly wears his PULLUPS, he can write his name without assistance and I am awed by that considering he isn't even 3.5 years! I am glad he has a short name to tackle though he tells me the "e" is "tricky". He has been tracing words and his name at school and home for a few months now and voila, one day I pick up his work from his cubby and there his name is scrawled in free hand with a star and note from his teacher! So I had him sign all his grandmother/great grandmother cards this year which he loved. It simply amazes me how a child's brain learns these functions and all that he has come to be able to master in a short 42 months!

Yeah...now I can BRMMM again...

Cole is rough on his toys and they obviously have not been through as strict of quality control as the packages say they have because in reality, three year old boys drop, push, squeeze, pull, and bang their toys over and over and over; so when a tire pops off a new toy soon after it has been removed from the plastic tomb it came in you know you are in for irritatingly repetitive requests to fix the aforementioned wheel. I can't tell you how many times this has occurred and annoyingly no matter what the price point is, this has happened to various wheels of many of his beloved trucks/cars.

Superglue works wonders on anything you DON'T want to move again, but the pickle comes in when I need to find a fix for one of the many darn wheels, because if the tire doesn't work, Cole becomes distraught because of course, said with a whine that probably makes Tucker wince since it makes me cringe, "I can't BRMMMM it with only three wheels".

I try to address the repair if I know it simply needs a quick snap back into place but sometimes I have to go get tools and if I am in the middle of something else, I don't want him to get accustomed to having his demands met right away, nor stop whatever household task is so vital at that exact moment, so I tell him he has to wait and to go find something else to play with. I have about a 15% success rate with that attempt at redirection. So the other 85% of the time, probably with a sigh or a look on my face showing my exasperation, I trudge off to Dave's workbench scrounging to find the proper miniature set of pliers or the like.

Cole follows me around watching me work my mommy magic and with such joy on his face he lights up the room with his smile as I hand back the temporarily mended vehicle. "Yeah, I can BRMMM now". The last time I made this fix, I obviously made apparent that I was inconvenienced... as he trotted off with his newly repaired (for the 84th time) truck, I saw him detour into his playroom, heard him shuffling around (I was back to folding laundry)...he comes out and says "Here Mom, I have something for you". With that, he grabs my hand and puts a star sticker on it proclaiming "you fixed my truck because it had a flat tire and you made it BRMM again."

**SIGH** in that OMG manner; once again another lesson learned from my son about what truly matters...

The rain is racing...

Since we got back from California two weeks ago, Cole has asked to take his nap in our bed. He sleeps fine at night in his bed but I think it was fun for him to be in our big bed while we were on vacation staying in hotels. He has also come into our room early in the morning (4am or so) for as long as I can remember and snuggled up with the two of us, sometimes three if Tucker is there for another hour or so.

Anyway, he ambles up into our bed throwing my decorative pillows to and fro, making room for himself to curl up under the covers with his blue blanket. I normally lay with him until he settles in, it is our mommy and Cole quiet time. I love watching his eyes gradually get heavy, his little mind trying hard to fight the sleep, his feet kicking and moving around as well in an attempt to find a resting place.

He typically whines about taking a nap but being an early riser and an active little boy, he needs the nap, no qualms about it. Believe me, on the few times where a nap has not been mandated, 4-7pm is a war zone around here.

The other day as he lay nestled up against me, his gaze was drawn to the skylights above our bed. Our roof is at a steep angle to better shed the winter snow we get here so the skylights slant deeply as well. It was raining hard, the skies gray and gloomy, setting the best kind of mood for a lazy warm nap. Even I contemplated just zonking out with him. He had been quiet for awhile but his eyes remained open so I knew he wasn't ready quite yet. Very softly, he goes "Mommy, look, the rain is racing"! Sure enough as I looked upward towards the skylight, the rain was beading at the top of the window and the rivulets were racing in streaks downward, like cars drag racing. I said "your right Cole, the rain IS racing, that is a very good observation". He goes "yep, that is what I see"

My heart skipped a beat and my eyes teared up, it was like hearing poetry from a three year old, his analogy touching me with its sheer innocence. It made me see the falling rain against the skylight from a whole new perspective. It was a moment I won't soon forget.

I know some day...

I know some day, this house will be a PULL UP free zone...some day...

At almost 3.5 Cole still isn't potty trained. He isn't remotely interested. His Montessori teachers ask him to try every day and I have attempted to get him interested using everything from cheerios in the toilet to crossing streams with his daddy. Nope, still not interested. I have blogged before about researching possible methods to use with him but he is just not interested PERIOD! When he becomes frustrated at learning any OTHER skill, we gently prod him to try and try again with lots of hoopla when he does succeed. When we even bring up the subject of peeing on the potty he contorts his face as if we have asked him to eat snails and says, "it's too hard". If we push him to try, he fights us tooth and nail all the way to the bathroom and just stands there. Power of the wills, probably. A game, I don't want to make it that with him, he is too smart already. I need him to think he is the one in charge. Believe me, I know the type.

So what is a mom to do other than back off seeing that 75% of what I read says don't push the wrong buttons or it will take even longer? I know someday he'll amaze me by walking into the bathroom, closing the door, he'll pee, he'll flush, he'll wash his hands, he'll come back out and say matter of factly, "see mom, I went potty" with an impish grin on his face. So I just take solace in knowing that some day it WILL happen...

An "engine" of a different kind...

We just spent four days in California, a much needed getaway for the three of us. It was Cole's first visit to the City by the Bay and we got to share some of our favorite places with him. He is a wonderful traveler!

Two days we spent down in beautiful coastal Monterrey as Dave ran his second Big Sur Marathon. Enjoying the scenery at Asilomar State Beach just a few miles up the road from the famous 17 Mile Drive we found ourselves walking through tidal pools in the chilly Pacific Ocean. We were in awe of the fantastic and breath taking seascape, with spring flowers dotting every rock/crevice.

Dave and I enjoyed a bottle of wine to celebrate his 26.2 finish as Cole ran back and forth, to and fro, around and around as usual. He is very much into pretend play and loves to create racetracks with bridges and crossings. He stops to get tire changes, fill up with gas and recover from crashes. He plays up the sound effects well with his BROOOMM BROOOMMs and his VROOM VROOMs. He raced around loving being barefoot, purposely "spinning" out and landing into the soft sand.

At one point Dave asked him as he changed Cole's tires (his feet) whether he needed an engine tuneup. Cole pointed at his penis and said "no my engine is fine". Dave and I laughed solid for the better part of five minutes. It was one of the highlights of our trip along with our views of the Golden Gate Bridge, the waves and black stones at Rodeo Beach, the 360 degree panorama of the entire city from Alta Vista Park in Pacific Heights, our belly laughs at Ed's analogies on our quick overnight with the Kawashiris and in general our time spent together as a family in the city where Dave and I left our hearts in 2003!

What's Gonna Work....

In all disclosure, Cole watches more TV than I like. It is the reality of my world that I use it as a babysitter of sorts in order to prep/make dinner, to reply to emails, to manage my PT work, to take a shower in peace or to attempt to read the newspaper.

Don't think badly of me as when I say he watches too much TV it is my guilt that trips me up more than the actual amount of TV time itself. In comparison to many three years old I know, he doesn't watch nearly as much TV as his peers. Cole gets more one on one attention from me most days than I have energy for (hence many times I collapse into bed when he does); we have picnics (real and imaginative), we play trucks, we race cars, we color, we go to the playground, we walk Tucker in the woods, we get messy in the sandbox, we go to the library every Tuesday, we "do" lunch out together on Fridays...our days are relatively unstructured in a sense so that he can just be a boy experiencing his world at his pace...we have playdates and run errands and did a lot of music/art/gymboree type classes when he was younger but as he has gotten older, I want him to use his imagination and explore what is right under his nose.

That said, I really shouldn't feel the shame that I do when he does watch TV. We only allow him to view commercial free Noggin (now Nick Jr.) or PBS Kids or select DVDs. He can count to ten in Spanish (c/o of Dora the Explorer), he can say Hello, Sun and Goodbye in Chinese (thanks to Ni How Kai Lan), he dances and bops (with the Yo Gabba Gabba crew), he loves to see Max get himself into a pickle on Max & Ruby and he has most importantly learned the concept of teamwork from the Wonder Pets. He knew their jingle as early back as I can remember but the past several months has used the term or its likeness in context repeatedly.

I try to include him as best I can when I do tasks since he loves to say "I'm a good helper" after assisting me. He helps me clean, bake, sweep outside, make the beds...he loves to just feel the need to be a part of it all. I adore that about him. So eager and willing and upbeat about what would typically be to me just a mundane task. On the occasion where he cannot participate with me, his face falls and he mutters "but I want to be a team". It is so difficult to explain to him the complexities of life and how some things need to be accomplished solo. I know disappointment is just as much a learning tool as success but nonetheless his enthusiastic approach to teamwork is certainly something to foster.

I know the day will come (and probably before I will ever be ready) where he won't want to hang out and play with me as it will be uncool. I'll have to beg him to help me with anything domestic in nature and he'll make it known that I should be invisible. That is what happens as they learn about their independence. I hope he always wants me around but reality is what it is. Anyway, I digress...

For now and as long as he subscribes to his "we are a team" mentality, I will cheer him on and give him as many opportunities as I can to make him feel like Winnie, Tuck or Ming Ming...a very vital part of our TEAM!

Stubborn as a Mule ( like his Mom)...

Cole has been bribed, coaxed, wooed, cajoled, lured, and urged amongst other things in a vain attempt to become potty trained. Unfortunately he has my stubborn streak and hence, despite trains, candy, stickers and race cars beckoning him from the bathroom shelf he has zero, nada, zilch, diddly squat interest in breaking free of diapers/PullUps.

He gets physically distressed if you try to leave them off...he refuses to wear big boy underwear unless it is over a diaper/PullUp and though he freely lets the stream flow in the bathtub, he exhibits extreme anxiety when we try to nudge him to use the toilet. Every few months since he was about two years old, I tackled the venture of potty training for a few days at a time but I also know that it is one of the major milestones that I cannot dictate to him and when he pushes back vehemently I know to back off. He has to want to do it comfortably for it to be a success. It has been probably the most frustrating thing about being a parent (with the exception of four months of colic) that I have experienced with him. I am tired of keeping diapers/Pullups and wipes stocked. I fear since he is so tall for his age that soon the largest size of those won't fit him anymore. I am tired of carrying around a changing pad. I am done with stinky trash.

I have been incredibly lucky that his preschool is of the mindset that kids master the potty at different rates and even his teacher acknowledges with a laugh that "Cole does NOT want to use the potty, he makes that quite clear every hour we make him try"!

I know he will eventually ditch the last vestige of his baby/toddler days and it is his way of telling us he isn't ready to become a full fledged little boy and who can really blame him?

Well, not exactly...

Spring has magically arrived much earlier this year than the previous two springs that we have been residents of Minnesota. We have gone the entire month of March WITHOUT a lick of snow. It is the first time in the history of record keeping that NO white stuff has fallen during the third month of the year. It was chilly (ie. required hat/heavy jacket) and windy most of its 31 days however we got blasts of 2 day stints where the temperature ventured way above normal and we are expecting almost summer like days next week to end the month.

All of that said, we find ourselves cleaning up the yard six weeks ahead of schedule (almost 8 weeks compared to last year) and watching green shoots pop up in the warm sun as the ground has completely thawed! We hesitate to plant a darn thing as we fear mother nature saying "HA, watch this" and sending some arctic air and heavy wet snow our way as she hasn't been very happy with us as a population in general showing her wrath with earthquakes and freak storms.

Anyway, Cole has been a huge helper as we have spent the past two weekends working outdoors. He has his set of gardening tools and a pair of gloves and loves to get dirty of course! My planters and pots don't fare well even when they are stored in the shed as the temperature gets soooo darn cold here during the winter that it causes the paint and terra cotta to crack. I lost quite a few this year since we had extended bouts of subzero weather in January and February.

Outdoor decor and spring inventory has been on display in the stores since after Valentine's Day which always perplexes me but this year it seems to have been a wise move! Cole and I were in SuperTarget and I wandered down the aisle in the Smith & Hawken section since the sign at the end said "SALE"...I love Smith & Hawkin but they typically are out of my price range. I was hoping to find some planters to replace my cracked ones but instead saw a cool outdoor thermometer that would look great in our firepit/patio area.

To Cole, the thermometer looked like a clock. He is learning about telling time at Montessori and we have gotten a few books at the library about clocks/telling time that we read before bedtime (along with whatever books about trucks/cars/vehicles/anything with wheels we can find). I explained to him that clocks have numbers 1-12 and show us what time it is. A thermometer has bigger numbers and tells us how hot/cold it is. He looked slightly confused, so I repeated myself and said that we would hang the thermometer outside near the deck.

Cole looks at me, then points at the thermometer in the cart and says matter of factly "that isn't like the one for my butt". I realized his puzzled face was because a thermometer to him was the one I pulled out of the drawer when I told him "you feel hot buddy, I'm going to take your temperature with the thermometer" I smiled but didn't laugh because to him he was making the connection that a thermometer had multiple meanings (and uses). At three years old , he continues to amaze me with his ability to connect the proverbial dots and impress me with his understanding of the way the world works.

The working mind of my three year old...

So Cole and I are wandering through TJ Maxx Home Goods Store and as usual I am in a race to find the items I need as well as do a quick look-see for "stuff" for the house. I know I have a limited amount of minutes before my son begins to whine. He is a trooper with all the errands he goes on with me on but he is three years old. Enough said.

I am flying through aisles attempting to find two gifts but having no idea exactly what it is that I want to find. We cruise down to the area of home decor where several older woman are leisurely combing through the odd array of bric-a-brac. Cole blurts out excitedly, "MOMMY, MOMMY, LOOK...the Eiffel Tower"...at first, I didn't realize that was what he was saying because it was so out of context and YET, there he was pointing at a decorative replica of the Eiffel Tower. The two ladies within earshot both looked up as I said "You are so right, it is the Eiffel Tower, you are so smart to recognize that". The one woman commented "WOW, have you been there?" Cole sheepishly replies "No, we have one in the book at school". The woman goes "what aren't they teaching preschoolers these days?" and we both laughed.

It was a proud moment. Whereas earlier in this post I said, he is three years old, enough said, how do I now explain that my three year old who acts like a three year old 89% of the time was able to make the connection between a world renowned structure he saw in a book at school and its miniature imitation on the shelf in a store? If that is my son's mind at work, he'll be a rocket scientist anyday!

Foul Four Letter Word Free Zone

Before becoming a mom, I had quite a sailor's vocabulary (aka potty mouth). Once Cole began talking, I knew I had to learn to filter what I said and/or come up with some creative exclamations to replace the naughty four letter expletives. It took some time trying out various phrases to find something relatively innocuous as well as a statement that allowed me to actually still vent. I used "SHAZAM" for awhile but that didn't pack the punch necessary when some "silly" person cut me off in traffic. I mumbled under my breath for a time but again, that didn't alleviate my need for spouting something out loud plus my grumbling could still be heard occasionally from the backseat.

Somewhere along the line I switched to using "OY VEY" when I was annoyed and "ARE YOU SERIOUS" when I was quite irked. Those seem to carry the necessary outlet I was looking for. Thankfully, those substitutes have been in use for over a year. Unfortunately, Cole began using both in context recently, stating "ARE YOU SERIOUS" when I asked him to put his toys away,having to repeat myself with the threat of a time out. I almost burst out laughing but have learned to table any expression on my face when he is in hot water as he closely observes for even the slightest weakness in my armor. "OY VEY" escaped from his lips the other morning as I was hustling him to get dressed, vexed as he wiggled his frame making it impossible to put his socks and shoes on. I let out a sigh and he immediately fired back "OY VEY". He disarmed me but I remained stoic parroting back to him "OY VEY is right...do you know that you are making things difficult for mommy"? He smiled back at me, stopped moving around like a fish out of water, and said he was sorry. I thanked him, kissed his nose, finished getting him dressed and picked him up and twirled him around. That is how conflict should be fleeting and forgotten but OY VEY that those moments have to happen at all.

It's a Beautiful Day...

Today dawned and it was very apparent that the sun would not shine. We were experiencing our first raw drizzle since November, the dirty snow melting into pant soaking puddles. My mood matched the inclement weather as we hustled to get out of the house this morning. Leaving even five minutes "late" causes us to become a part of the backup on the crazy ramps with the stop/go lights onto the highway.

I rushed Cole out the backdoor warning him to avoid the pools of water. The mountains of snow alongside our garage have been seeping into it as it melts, so more hazards as I get him into the Volvo.

Sensing my hurried pace, Cole turns to me and says "Mommy, it is a beautiful day". Instantly tears well in my eyes as I realize my sensitive son is teaching me another lesson about taking life as it comes.

He remained looking at me with his big Coca-Cola colored eyes and beaming smile. I took a breathe and replied "Your right, it is a beautiful day buddy". In that brief encounter, he turned my cranky self right around. We sang songs all the way to school. As I watched his contented face from the rear view mirror bopping along to my off key melodies, I was reminded once again how much my son continues to share with me his perspective about living in the moment.