Balance

I'm trying. I know that every moment after a child's birth, they are essentially growing away from you. Firs tthey can roll away from you, and then crawl, and then walk....Next thing I know, my Bug is pulling up the garbage cans from the sidewalk, describing the farm "in a foreign land" that he will run all by himself, and have inside jokes with his friends of which I am on the outside. Though, lately, I don't mind being on the outside of any joke that has the word "poopoo-head" in it.

I'm trying to take it all in stride. I'm trying to take it in stride. Look like the other mommies at the preschool. Happy to drop my child off and make playdates and worry about what school he will go to next year. And, I am happy to do these things. But I'm also very sad to do these things. I love my Bug just the way he is. Exactly the way he is. I'm a needy parent needing just a bit more of whatever stage that's right in front of my eyes. There's a saying to look for balance. But I think I've taken it to mean something very external. Work/home. Clean/messy. But maybe the balance is also internal. Happy/sad at the same time over the same thing.

S-man, the redhead in the center, asked Bug over for lunch and a playdate yesterday. We've had other invites, but this was the first where Bug went all by himself and because he went to school first thing and straight to the playdate, I hadn't seen him all day. ALL DAY. This turn of events is new for me. Most children spend days away from their parents from the get-go. But, we specifically chose no daycare because of the severity of his allergies. This whole day away thing. Hm. I'm so happy he's growing up and goes to school and has friends and we've found more people who care about us to take such good care - more care than one has to take than with most every other kid. I'm so sad that he's big enough to go to school and have friends and be away from me all day!

He's four. He's four! What can I say, I'm a balanced individual....

cows

Yes. The cows are this hairy.

chicken

Including our latest family visitor, the order of most lion-hearted to chicken-livered is as follows: M, Gi, and Mama T are all clustered right up there. They like roller coasters, being tossed about, and will play with physics via their own bodies hurtling through space at any given moment. Once on a double decker bus in Costa Rica, there was a cliff dropping hundreds of feet below us and it was a dirt road in the rain and the bus kept climbing and lurching and lunging and I thought for sure we were doomed and M said, "Well, it'll be a fun drop to our deaths anyway."

Next and more towards the chicken-livered is actually the Bug. People assume Bug is fearless because he does tings most people are a bit fearful of doing. He has no problems talking to strangers, placing stickers along his naked midriff, and committing to character - like the t-rex he likes to pretend to be. As a side note, this t-rex's name is "Barry" and can't pick up his toys, brush his terrifying teeth, or eat roasted squash with pine nuts because his arms are too tiny. Committed, I did write committed to character, didn't I? Anyway, he is more of the wary sort. He sobbed on his first swing as a baby, tolerates merry-go-rounds, and has his own limit for jumping on the bed. We were all surpised to have him enjoy the zip line at Castle Brodick. It's gorgeous by the way, the Island Arran. A must do if you've got the time when you come.

Finally, there's me. I am a chicken. I don't like roller coasters. I can't swing as high as Gigi wants me to when she's on my lap. Even tall slides get me down. I thought I would give the zip line a go when the Bug enjoyed it though. I thought I could sneak a run when no one was looking. Not so. But, what you can't see in this picture is the Bug yelling across the park, "Don't be afraid Mama! You can do it! It's only the wind!" Gigi is also doing a small happy dance amongst a crowd of unknown onlookers chuckling in the ether just beyond my left shoulder. Like I told Bug the other day over roasted squash, or Barry the t-rex, or whatever...."It's good to try new things."

Photos

I've had to learn how to receive gifts in ways I could not have imagined, since having children. As a rule, we receive many wonderful gifts. Medications that I'm comfortable with using from the states, warm socks that I know won't get holes in them after one wash, wooden blocks that I couldn't find here and really needed...the list goes on. But, the gift I'm most interested in is pictured around the Bug's neck over his birthday weekend at Castle Edinburgh. Mimi and Bucka gave The Bug a kid-friendly camera. I've had a glimpse of Bug's perspective.

Editors play an interesting role. What I find interesting, you may not. So as theme number one from bug's camera I offer these photos of M. I hope you find them interesting.

There are loads of them; M always in the kitchen, staring at the Bug. These expressions, I think, are of my husband/Bug's father trying to anticipate what will come next. While I can't predict the next hour, often I try to predict smaller increments of time. Say, five minutes, one minute...jeez, even 30 seconds heads' up is helpful. However, despite the hands-on dad that M is, he is not the primary caregiver that I am. Unlike myself, M hasn't had the time and experience to fully realize that this attempt at fortune telling as it pertains to our son's wants, needs, and actions, is absolutely futile. Really. It hurts to even try. I offer these photos as evidence.

Welcome to G's World

In her world, there is no such thing as protesting too much, too loudly or even scrunching your face up too tightly while doing the aforementioned protest.