Trip To Vermont

Matthew is roused from a deep sleep when the car pulls to a stop. “Fire truck,” he mumbles remembering the last thing he saw before his eyes closed. We are spending the weekend in Vermont and had the good sense to leave during his bedtime hour. It is just Matthew, myself, and Sarah staying in the condo which her parents own, which I have spent many weekends over the years, the first time being when I was in 7th grade, and the last time before now being when I was pregnant. Inside a jumbo stuffed Bear in the Blue house is sitting in an arm chair to greet us. Sarah takes out some chic drinking glasses, with her initials carved into the side of hers, and pours us some water. We guzzle it down as though we walked instead of drove for the last three hours.

I set the pack-n-play up in the room that I will be sleeping in. Once I lure Matt away the kitchen to tuck him into bed, the child latch free pantry being his playground over the next couple of days, I then curl up in my own bed with a novel. Already I can feel the little daily stresses of life melting away.

The next morning Matthew slept to a reasonable hour, which was good seeing that I read to an unreasonable hour the night before. We drove out to a whimsical place called Santa’s Land. It is an interesting place with the whole winter wonderland theme obviously, but also kiddie rides, playgrounds, animals, and old fire trucks for kids to climb on. The rides were included in the next to nothing ticket price. Matthew rode a kiddie ride on his own for the first time, climbed up the highest slides, and fed a goat some hay, but was terrified by the sight of a caged peacock spreading its wings before us. He cried and quivered, and then refused to walk past the cage until I carried him.

Next we drive to a swimming lake with a wonderful wooden playground. Unlike other lakes we’ve been to this summer, this one doesn’t have fish swimming in the shallow waters, ranking it at the top of my list. It feels cleaner to me somehow. Matthew surprises me by spending more time in the water instead of the sand, which for the most part of this summer has been the opposite. I tried not to meddle when Matthew took it upon himself to sit with an older boy who had spent the afternoon collecting and sorting rocks. I worried Matthew would take the rocks from the boy but instead he listened to the boy chat about which ones he liked the best and then later started a collection of his own.

That night Sarah and I play bored games and snack on chocolate while Matthew watches television and snacks from a container of plain raisins that he horded from the pantry. When we are washing up for bed it starts to rain hard. “Boom Booms!” Matthew announces with vigor as he has inherited his mother’s love of thunderstorms.

Sunday we make a stop to the Ben and Jerry’s factory before heading home. Before we even get to the ice cream eating part, we make spin art for free, play on the playground, and visit the flavor graveyard, an area dedicated to retired ice cream flavors, complete with headstones for them. Then of course we ate ice cream. On the walk back to the car Matthew plays with the rubber bracelet he got at the gift shop that reads, “Peace, Love, and Ice Cream.” Those words sum up our trip to Vermont for me.

Piecones

At first, Matthew was more interested in the fallen sticks along the wooded path that lead to the sand area and water. Once he had enough sticks in his arms to start a campfire he handed them all to me and walked ahead to the beach with Bob. He was a little timid around the water but became more comfortable each time he went to the shoreline to fill up his bucket with water for his sandcastle.

Bob took Matthew out wading in the water which I thought was too cold. They collected rocks and looked for fish while I took pictures of the lake and the two of them. Then I heard a splash and saw that Matthew had lost his balance and fallen under the water. I reacted as any sane mother would react, the same as though a great white shark had just carried him off. Bob had helped him up by the second time I had shouted, “Get him!”. The whole incident had only lasted a matter of seconds but while Matthew didn’t even cry.

We have a picnic and then there is more splashing around the water and digging in the sand until it is time for us to get home so that I can log on to work from home and Matthew can take his afternoon nap. As we are walking back up the wooded path the ice cream truck arrives, which Matthew will tell you was his highlight of the afternoon if you asked him.

The 4th of July is the following day. We didn’t have any big plans to celebrate the holiday because I was working from home again in the afternoon. In the morning, I set up a table outside with red, white, and blue art supplies. Matthew may appreciate this but fully ignores it to play a game that involves a bin full of rainwater and a net. For lunch, we do a cookout. Bob grills hotdogs and hamburgers while I boil corn on the cob and slice up some cucumbers and strawberries. For dessert, I bake a blueberry nectarine cobbler. To make it more special we eat in the dinning room, which hadn’t been used since Matthew’s second birthday in May. While eating our Independence Day feast Matthew tells us ‘jokes’.

“It’s dark outside… it’s not dark outside!” This is his first and favorite joke. Of course, we laugh each time he tells it.

Later that afternoon, Bob takes Matthew. When they return home, Matthew brings me two pinecones. “Piecones” he called them. I am pleased that he would share his treasure with me. For that reason I treasure them.

Chatterbug

“Mama?” Matthew looks up at me quite seriously after rolling a yellow play doh snake on the table, “Dis string cheese. Here you go.” He hands it to me with watchful eyes.

“Thank you,” I say, “Can you make me a cookie too?”

“Mmm, good cheese,” he hedges, leaving me no choice but to mock eat the playdoh in my hand.

“Delicious,” I compliment and he claps his hands together with delight before handing me a blob of brown play doh. “Is this a cookie?”

“It’s poo poo!”

“Yuck,” I state this without a trace of humor in my voice.

“Yuuuuuck,” Matthew agrees but his eyes are lit up with amusement, “Yucky poo poo!”

“A mess!” Matthew tattles pointing to the play doh blobs and cutting tools scattered all over our dinning room table that a minute ago it was his string cheese and cookie factory. “Oh no! A mess!”

All He Wrote

I work from two pm until ten pm five nights a week while Bob works more “normal hours” from seven until four. I often am asked if it feels like Bob and I are two passing ships in the night. My answer is that it doesn’t because we still talk to each other all day via email or instant messenger, and on Fridays Bob usually works from home.

On nights that I am working and after Matt is trucked into bed, Bob comes online and provides me with a witty, yet sometimes weary, recap of his and Matt’s night together. I have saved each one. In celebration of Father’s Day, below are some of my favorite moments he wrote about.

1 .We kicked the ball around the house and read his book about chameleons.

2. I dozed off (very briefly) and was awaken by Pirate Booty being shoved in my mouth.

3. Matt does the "HI-YA" karate chop to the monsters now too!

4. Matt was a bit of a handful tonight. "Mischievous" is how I would describe it.

5. It was cute though, when I read Mr. Brown Can Moo he was trying to make the buzzing sound but kept getting tongue tied and just sticking out his tongue.

6. He sat on my stomach and just chatted for about 10 minutes. I have no idea what he was talking about but I think he might have been telling me about his day. Once and while he would just giggle so maybe he was telling me a joke.

7. Matt just did a big fart. I am proud of him.

8. Matt has a new word: snow.

9. We went to the park and he wanted to ride on the swing the whole time. When I would try to take him out to do something different, he would tell me that he was "stuck" until I pushed him again.

10. He seems to be ok with dirt on his hands now too, I told him to just wipe it on his pants.

11. We got a phone call that said town of Holden on the caller ID. It was the Holden police, and they asked if we had a baby that was playing with the phone because someone called 911. I told them yes and apologized, and they asked if they could send an officer out to the house just to make sure everything was ok.

12. I tried a turkey burger and sweet potatoes with no success, so we eventually settled on 2 yogurt tubes. And he gnawed on some leftover watermelon that he found laying around somewhere.

13. Also from the Landmark: 7:25 p.m. 911 no response, noise of young child in background.

14. Then we played Bob The Builder and he sings the song now. It goes something like this "bo billo fix fix fix it”.

15. Matt did not enjoy cutting his fingernails but he needed it:it was like the scene in the 40-year-old virgin where they wax Steve Carrel's chest, and he screams and then calms down and tells them to do it again, then screams again. He would yell like I shot him, and run away, then come back onto the bed and stick his hand out over the trash barrel again.

16. We went back outside to set up the sprinkler and I told him to sit on the stairs while I turned it on, so he wouldn't get wet while I tested to see if it would shoot the right place. Well, I had the sprinkler backwards so when I turned it on it shot right at Matt!

17. After dinner, I told Matt he could help me install the DVD drive in the computer. "Let's go get the tools" I told him. He jumped up and down about 20 times shouting "We're going to get tools! We're going to get tools!"

18. I can't stop looking at him and thinking what a handsome little devil we made

19. He was all about letters and ABC's tonight, singing with Leapfrog.

20. Matt climbed out of the tub and ran to his bedroom before I even knew where he went.

Providence Museum

We’re off to Providence to visit the children’s museum. In the backseat of the car Matthew and his friend Celia nibble munchkin donuts, hold hands, and play a game where Matthew does karate chops into the air and Celia shrieks with laughter each time. In the front seat Celia’s mom Melanie and I talk about what all women talk about, the real estate market and Edward Cullen.

The museum has a great big dragon on top of its roof. The tail hangs down the building near the parking lot. We can’t get our children to notice the dragon because they are busy looking at the trucks and cars on the street. Only once that we are walking into the museum do they notice the tail but at that point it only startles them.

Inside the museum is clean and creative. It’s smaller than the one in Boston that we are used to going too but also less crowded and more catered to the toddler age set. We spend a couple hours walking and playing around the different rooms, Matt’s favorite area would have had to of been a wooden boat with a ladder that he climbed up and down a trillion times sending me into panic mode that he would fall each of those times.

When we leave the museum to head out for lunch. Celia sighs wistfully, "I love church," giving us something to laugh about as we drive by one we otherwise might not have noticed. 

Owtside

Often you are the picture of sweetness like when you are curled up in your comforter singing the alphabet song in your still-sleepy morning voice, asking for more “kicken” at dinnertime, wanting to try on every sock that comes back from the laundry, and your hearty toddler laughter bouncing off the walls of our home. Then of course there are your classic two year old moments which are certainly not so sweet.

The weather is warm and sunny, a perfect morning to play outside. “Matty love, do you want to go play outside?” I ask.

“Yeah owtside!” you answer excitedly. Then you dump out a bucket of play food all over the kitchen floor. Again.

I read somewhere that toddlers making a mess is supposed to be educational, that it your way of discovering the world around you. I wonder what you are learning at this moment as you walk out of the kitchen, stepping on plastic potato chips and felt tomatoes.

“Matthew, please pick up your play food and then we can go outside to play."

“No!” you shout, making a mockery of your own two year oldness, and then climb on top of your art table and start taking down the drawing hung above it and throwing them on the floor.

“Clean up, clean Up, everybody everywhere, clean up, clean up, everybody do your share,” I warble. You start playing with a couple of matchbox trucks.

“Owtside,” you remind me after I have finished serenading the prince of mess making.

“Not until you clean up your toys,” I stand my ground and then snatch your trucks away, “You can have these back once you have cleaned up your mess.”

You pull out all the stops and exaggerate a frowny face before dissolving into tears. So I start tossing the play food into the bucket, mad at you. After watching me for a couple seconds you start pitching in and even smile when I catch your eye. There is never a dull mood around here with you.
“Thank you,” I give you the trucks back, “Now do you want to go outside and play?"

“No!” you answer, plopping down on the floor to play with your trucks.

Peek A Boo Guess Who's Two?

 








“Sit down,” Matthew is always telling me these days, “Sit down pease.” He will say this when he simply wants me play with him, or wants me to watch him play, or if I’m off taking pictures  when we are supposed to be having a picnic together. There is always something else I could be doing, writing a thank you note, checking my email, or reading a magazine, but most of the time I obligingly comply if only for a couple minutes to let him know that I’m always listening.

Matthew turned two years old! If you ask him his age he might tell you that he is two or five or nine. For his birthday this year we did a Curious George theme. We celebrated with red, blue, and yellow decorations, homemade Play-Doh, and served lunch, monkey munch and two types of cake to house full of family and friends. It was a lot of fun.

Two seems like a wonderful age.  I find the messiness and curiosity inspiring. One evening this week I took Matt outside with me to throw out a trash bag and he began collecting fallen tree buds that look like caterpillars. When he was finished he dumped them on our outside table to examine them. When it was time to go inside he followed me but his mind seemed to be lost in his own thoughts of his new discovery.

“Truck! Bus!” Driving in the car with a two year old is a joy. Matt likes to point out every single truck or bus that we pass. His voice is high pitched with excitement at the more trucks or buses he sees. I now find my eyes being drawn to trucks and buses even when he is not in the car.

“It’s dirty! Yuuuckk,” Matthew over exaggerates in reference to his mud splattered t-ball stand after a rain storm, “Ohhhh noooo,” he wails when the ball falls off the tee before he can hit it then a moment later after hitting the ball, “I did it!” with a modest shrug of the shoulders and big grin on his face.

Happy Birthday Matthew!