One Year

It's truly amazing what happens over the course of a year.

In 2013 Toby crawled into the living room to see what the Easter Bunny left him.

In 2014 he walked.

In 2013 the Easter Bunny went WAYYY overboard. 

And in 2014 the Easter Bunny... well, he still went overboard...

In 2013, Toby's uncles, Matt & Nelson, were so in love with him.

 And by 2014, that didn't change either.

I would also like to think that Toby took the cake for the best dressed little boy in 2013...

And 2014

But, on Easter Sunday 2013, our family didn't know whether or not McPepe would be here for Easter 2014.

 

We are so grateful he is.

We hope your Easter was filled with as much love and gratitude as ours was.

Freak out Friday: Volume 2

It took me a couple of weeks to amass another installment but, here it is.
Mr. Mister's recent freak-outs:

• Because his thumb scared him. Yes, his thumb. 
• Because I wouldn't let him eat a nickel.
• Because I banished him from the bathroom after he licked his potty seat.
• Because Daddy forgot to wave to him as he backed out of the driveway. (He threw himself on the floor in a fit of tears, signing "All done" while saying between gasps, "Daddy all done. Gone. Daddy all done" [Okay, so this one actually did break my heart and I called Aaron immediately on the phone so I could make him feel guilty all day long.])
• Because I wouldn't let him crawl under the shed.
• Because I made him hold my hand while we crossed the street.
• Because I wouldn't let him ride in a wheelchair at Target.
• Because I wouldn't let him use a steak knife to eat his supper.
• Because I flushed his poop down the potty.
• Because Daddy wouldn't let him repeatedly set off the car alarm. (once is enough)
• Because I wouldn't let him eat the eggshell in the compost pile.
• Because all the birds flew away when he knocked on the window while looking at his bird feeders.
• Because we went into Kohls.
• Because we left Kohls.
• Because I took away the pear he was playing ball with.
• Because I wouldn't let him wear the hat in the lost and found at the Audubon Center.
• Because I wouldn't let him throw his mitten down the sewer grate.
• Because the person speeding down the road on their motorcycle didn't wave back.

The path of least resistance

A few weeks ago we went on a winter hike with our don't say it, don't say it ALMOST TWO-YEAR-OLD. We brought our Kelty carrier thinking he would get tired and want a ride (that didn't happen.) It was a nice little hike up to the ledge at Lake Massabesic. We ate some fruit, watched a kettle of hawks, and climbed a tree.

On the way back we let Toby take the lead; Aaron and I lagged behind watching our kid. (It's just so weird. There was a time when he wasn't here. I can't even remember that.) While he was navigating the somewhat icy trails, which were difficult for even us, what amazed me was how he didn't take the short-cuts we adults did. He didn't take the path of least resistance; the easy way. Many times he slipped and insisted on getting up, without assistance, and continuing. He could have just reached his little arms up and his Dad would have scooped him up and carried him.

At one point he chased a leaf off the trail, through bush; the wind blowing it further each time he almost reached it. Silently I thought, "You'll never catch it. Come on, Little Buddy... let's just go." Shame on me. He was persistent and he caught it.

Many things about that experience; watching my son, humbled me and scared me. As adults we tend to take the path of least resistance. We want to do things the easiest way possible. We take shortcuts; we have an app for that. We're plugged in and tuned out. Watching my son be curious and patient really centered me to take more time. Be more curious. Let life happen. Slow down.


I knew my kid would teach me a lot about how to be a mother. Never did I think he would teach me how to be an adult. It has been a few weeks since that happened and I still can't get the moment he caught the leaf out of my mind. I want to be like my kid.