Stage 2

Every parent goes through the same two stages with their small kids:

Stage 1 - Kid as a pet...
This is the stage where babies and toddlers are just there. They don't talk or have control of their limbs. You pick them up and carry them around. Sometimes they come when you call them and sometimes you can teach them little tricks.

Stage 2 - Kid as a person...
Once the kid learns to talk, everything changes. They lose their pet-status and turn into little humans. It's CRAZY.

At first that is completely fascinating. You watch your little pet turn into a person who can tell you what they think and express themselves and mimic things they've heard you say.

Then the infatuation wears off just a bit, as they lose the ability to be quiet. They just talk and talk and talk. Sometimes I think that Ryker might faint from not taking a breath.

Tonight he was mimicking me as I spelled words for Jack. They he began spelling things himself. Not correctly, of course, but he was trying. Mostly they were real letters, but sometimes he would use the oft-forgotten letter "doe-bay" and string together a series of m's that doesn't naturally occur in English words. Then he started counting. "One, two, fee....seben, eight, nine, ten...wevn, twev, firften..."

I got the camera out but he clammed up. I'll keep trying.

Weird Things I've Seen

August edition:

1. A stuffed frog flying down the highway.
2. A man wearing jeans, no socks, and black dress shoes while working out.
3. Nikki eating brats and Coke for breakfast 3 days in a row.
4. Several different couples at different times kissing in the exact same place on the Plaza at Target Field.
5. A senior living facility named Real Life.

Also weird, all children's programming: Dora, Sponge Bob, the Wiggles. I mean seriously, have you ever watched them? Someone was on some serious drugs when they made those shows. And our kids are obsessed with them.

Car Conversations

Ryker gives a monologue in the car now. It goes a little something like this...

"Momma! No Momma. (S)Top it Momma. No. No. Joshun no. Top it Joshun. Why? Why Momma? Why? Whatchoo doin? Whatchoo doin Momma? Top it!"

He's alternately curious and appalled by our drive home. It's virtually the only time he's not requesting food though, so that's nice.

Generally Jack stays quiet during these monologues. Sometimes I ask him what he thinks Ryker is trying to get me to do. Tonight he told me that he thinks Ryker wanted me to stop the car. To which Ryker replied, and repeated at least a dozen times, "top da caw Momma. Top it! Top da caw."

The Gym

Those of you who follow my tweets and/or Facebook posts will have heard most of my gushing about the gym. But hey, if you are following my tweets, FB posts AND blog then I consider you either a stalker or my bestest friend, and either way, you have obviously demonstrated a tolerance for my ramblings.

But first, can someone please explain to me why it took me 31 years to figure out that vanilla yogurt and granola bars are CRAZY GOOD together?!

Okay, back to the gym.

I used to spend all of my time in gyms or fields of some sort. But when I got pregnant with Jack I just couldn't figure out how to swing the timing of it, so I gave up my membership and Chuck kept his. It's stayed that way despite Chuck's efforts to get me to sign up again.

Until last week. He finally convinced me. I signed up during one of their incentive periods so it'll be really cheap.

I went Thursday for my first time. I did the elliptical for 20 minutes, at which point I couldn't handle the taunting of the brand-new basketball court any longer. I went in there and shot around for an hour. It was FANTASTIC. Nothing like it. I was running up and down the court like a little kid. Then I sat in the hot tub like an old adult.

I didn't go on Friday, mostly because I was hungover from a wedding on Thursday night.

But I went Saturday, Sunday and Monday.

I LOVE THE GYM. It really is awesome. There is something very addicting about working out so hard that you are dripping sweat. It feels good. I've missed that feeling.

Today I couldn't figure out how to get over there. I do NOT get up in the morning. I just don't. I hate mornings. And I don't like getting ready for work at the gym. That eliminates lunch as well. I went to pick up the kids and tried to take them to the gym, but was politely informed by Jack that they can't go without snacks. Van Nostrand rule, I suppose, because it's certainly not the gym's rule. And since I was sans snacks, I headed home. We went to the park to play but after we put them in bed I decided I'd go to the gym anyway. Chuck really wanted me to try to go later in the evening because it's "so relaxing."

So I went. My back is hurting today (how old am I?) so I decided to swim. I got in the water and realized I didn't have my goggles. But I'm stubborn, so I swam anyway. After awhile my eyes really hurt, and I know that when they do that, they are bright red and I look exactly like a cocaine addict. Or something. So I decided to sprint in the pool. That kicks your *ss so I figured that was a good alternative. And I got tired fast, but was stubborn some more so I made myself sprint without a break for 30 minutes. My feet HURT about halfway through but that just made me more mad so I kept going. When I got out I figured out why my feet hurt. It's because I had ripped a hole in my toe. Blood and all.

And that meant that I couldn't go in the hot tub or the sauna. So I went to shower instead, where I noticed I brought shampoo and lotion instead of conditioner.

I got home and Chuck asked if I was relaxed and I hobbled over and looked at him with my junkie-eyes and told him NO. And then we watched random Italian Scrappers yell at each other on TV. Tomorrow's a new day.

Giant

We're raising a giant. We've taken to watching those Discovery Channel shows about the tallest man in the world, just so we can have an idea of how Ryker's episode will be laid out. You know - the footage they'll want and the types of childhood recollections that would be prominently featured, perhaps dramatically reenacted.

One such scene, I'm guessing, would have to be the early doctor's appointments. They would include interviews with our pediatrician, who would by then be maybe 60 or 7o years old. She'd sit in her trinket-filled living room recalling those early appointments with Ryker, and they'd cut away to visuals of his growth charts.

The one from two years old:

• Weight: 99.16% of growth percentile based on weight-for-age
• Length: 95.48% of growth percentile based on stature-for-age
• Weight for length: 98.22% of growth percentile based on weight-for-recumbent length
• Head Circumference: 99.92% of growth percentile based on head circumference-for-age

Any guesses on how this will benefit him in the future? Aside from the obvious jokes about football scholarships and sumo wrestling?

A Talker

Ryker is a talker, just like me. He's saying more and more things and we're understanding him better.

Last week he said his name for the first time, correctly. Ryker is not the easiest name for a kid. He has previously referred to himself as "why why" or "bebe." But the other morning I asked him what his name was and he said "Why-kur." Now he repeats it over and over because he knows I like it. "My Why-Kur, myyyy Why-Kur." (He uses "my" for "I.")

Last night I said "Ryker, what do you like to do?" not really expecting a response, and he said "baseball."

Today I told him I was going to give him a haircut and he said "Nicki not here." Nicki, if you haven't been reading this blog for very long, is our magical neighbor. Among other talents, she cuts hair, and apparently she's made quite the impression on him.

After his haircut he had a bath, and after that I put him in a froggy towel. He was hopping around saying "wibbit" and I got him on the changing table and asked what he was and he said "My wibbit."

He's also extremely fluent in the art of telling me what he does NOT want. Why do kids pick that up first? His love for saying no sometimes gets in the way of what he really does want, but I've learned to adjust. This morning he told me he wanted eggs and then proceeded to yell "no Mommy! No Mommy!!!!" until I brought them over to him, at which point he smiled and said "tank too" by way of appreciation.

I LOVE this age!

Beautiful

From my sweet boy just now, out of nowhere:

"If things are so beautiful sometimes I almost cry."

My Sweet Jackson

Jack's going through some harder times. I haven't posted it because it's scary to write about, but he's having a lot of trouble dealing with frustrations. He's been this way since birth - and I mean that literally. He was the colicky baby who turned into the hitting and kicking toddler who turned into the tantrum-prone preschooler. We work on it ALL THE TIME. In fun ways and in serious talks and in everything in-between. Mostly I think it's the friends he has at school right now, and those friends are moving on to a different school this fall for kindergarten. For that, I'm eternally grateful. But one friend talks about hurting himself and death and all of these tremendously adult topics. And Jack is mimicking that. And he's getting a reaction out of me. I know that's a shocker to you all, right?!

Anyway, he is doing okay and he's going to be fine and we'll talk to the pediatrician about it. And he's constantly talking about happy things and things that he wants to do and wants to learn and wants to work on.

And I need to take this moment to share how sweet he really is, and how kind his heart is.

When I picked him up from school yesterday I told him we were going to CJ's birthday party (the eldest of the Hayes children). He asked if we had a present and I said that no, we didn't have one but that it was okay. He pondered that for awhile. Then he told me that he would give CJ one of his toys. "I'll give him one of my toys, I don't care." He said it so sweetly. So we got home and he decided he wanted to give CJ the pop-up book he's been working on.

The pop-up book, just so you know, is not something that we have ever talked about. He decided to do that himself this last weekend. He stapled a few sheets of small legal paper together. Then he used construction paper to make a house with a roof. He cut out a window and a door and then another window but left enough paper in that window upon which to draw a person. Then he stapled the bottom of that house to an inside sheet of the legal paper book. So when you flipped into the book, you could then flip the house up. Hence the pop-up book. It was brilliant.

So Jack wanted to give that to CJ. He ran around the house asking us how to spell different words so he could write into it. We took it over there and when it was time for CJ to open presents there was his book, amidst the baseball gloves and games. Chuck and I were hiding in the back of the yard because we were scared Jack would get made fun of. (Have I mentioned my total fear of kids being disappointed or made fun of or kids not coming to other kids' birthday parties?)

Before CJ got to Jack's card, Jack brought it to me and told me that he needed to write his name on it. So we went inside and got a pencil and Jack sat down to write his name on the front. It was the first time I got a look at his book up close. At the top of the cover page he had written "Jacks wig". And no, I didn't type that wrong. He doesn't know how to use apostrophes. And "wig" is the newest word he has learned how to spell. Under "Jacks wig" he wrote "CJ" and under that he was adding "Jackson".

I said "that is really sweet Jack. Do you want CJ to open it now, or later?" He said now. I said that CJ might ask what it meant, and he said "well, YOU can tell him..." I said "well yes, except I'm not really sure what it means. Why did you write 'Jacks wig'?" and he goes "I couldn't think of anything else to write so I just wrote that."

Good answer. So we went back outside and he handed it to Payten, who was handing presents over to CJ. I stood on the stairs and hoped it would go well. CJ opened it and read it and did so amazingly well with it. He was confused, of course, but spent a sec with it, looking at it and reading it and said thank you. It was adorable. I am SO thankful that CJ was so kind about it. And Jack sat there looking immensely proud and sort of blushing.

And later Nicki and I got a hold of the card and saw what he did on the inside. He had written "Jackson has so much fun with wig."

Of course. What else would you write there?

Cuddling

I don't know how long my boys will cuddle with me, so I better blog about it now.

Tonight was the best cuddle night. I put Jack in bed and he asked for me to cuddle with him. Actually, his manners have fallen by the wayside recently, so it was more of a demand. I'll take it though.

I curled up next to him and he put his arm around me and put his forehead against mine. It was pure bliss.

Then I sat on his couch for a few minutes as he fell asleep and I was relishing the calm and peacefulness and WHAM the door flies open. It's Ryker. "Momma!"

I scooped him up quickly and ran out of the room before Jack woke up. Chuck was in the hallway, and I was like "why did you let him do that?" and he was like "he wouldn't stop asking for you." And I was just holding him in my arms and he just beamed at me.

My sweet boys. I love 'em.