All About Will

Usually, when writing these, it's easier to describe Carter's escapades and adventures because they are more readable. No one really is interested in Will's fine motor accomplishments but me and possibly a grandmother or two. I feel like Will gets short shrifted in these pages. But not today. He was busy yesterday exerting his ever blossoming personality.

It all began when we walked down to the grocery as a family. Carter begged for the wagon and Nathan conceded. Then, no one would ride in it. Carter ran on ahead of us and Will refused to get in. He insisted upon walking and running. The trip to the grocery isn't really that far but kind of convoluted. He toddled ahead, ever so cutely. On we trekked, Carter blazing the trail in front, Nathan pulling the wagon next, Will resolutely following him, and me bringing up the rear. Nathan was amazed at how far Will was making it and I reminded him that when Carter was about this age he led me on foot, without any direction from me, from our house to the cookie counter at Kroger. So this kind of quest for independence is natural. Finally, we had to insist everyone into the wagon. But we marveled at his new found interest in walking it on his own and ability to keep up as much as his little 22 month old legs can.

Once we were home, we prepared a new recipe. It sounded like a pretty good dish; I figured with peaches, orange juice, brown sugar, and chicken involved how could I go wrong? Well, all to easily. Will ate about 4 bites before he balked and refused to take another bite. Carter just told me outright he didn't like it after the first bite but was a good sport to try a few more. Nathan and I were baffled since we found the taste sweet and mild. Will became supremely dissatisfied with the situation of being in his highchair, at this point. Since I knew he was still hungry, I let him down and figured I would get him something else to eat. Carter was satisfied to eat the chicken and couscous without the peach sauce.

I released him from his dining room mouse trap and placed him on my lap. He then ate my salad. And when I say he ate my salad, I mean my whole salad. He asked for more. Nathan and I looked at each other equally amazed. First walking on his own most of the way to the store and now eating salad? What would be next? Just wait. So, we gave him more salad and some of the chicken in it and he ate and ate and ate. That is when I knew he was a lot like his Doc. Nathan eats a lot of salad but not nearly as much as his dad. Will is just the next link in the chain of vegetable loving men.

So, after a bath, will emerged from the bathroom in nothing but a diaper, or what he calls an Elmo, because Elmo's smiling face graces each one of them. In fact, he will say, "Pee pee. Pee pee. Elmo." That means: "My diaper is wet and I need a new one." Anyway, little mostly naked boys are hard to catch. Their kind of slippery like fish. Though I tried to make the idea of pajama wearing appealing and fun, he was not buying it. Running around in an Elmo was clearly his idea of fun. That is about the time his Uncle Roger arrived with Silver. The sight of Silver sent him in to shrill squeals of ecstasy. These loud squeals were causing the poor dog to have visible nervous breakdown. She came and sat next to me upon request so I could pet her. Carter, who is normally very frightened of dogs, seemed enthusiastic for the first time to pet Silver, too. Will on the other hand would toddle over to Silver, lightly poke her with his index finger, squeal, laugh, and run back to the couch, climb up and flop down and laugh some more. He was thrilled with this routine. I noticed that each time he was becoming slightly braver. He progressed from poking to an actual petting motion over a few times. Of course, the squealing didn't get quieter or less thrilled. He may have actually become more thrilled with Silver. Meanwhile, Silver was quietly dying inside. When she actually whimpered - which I've never heard her do - I decided it was time to liberate her from her well-meaning human cousins. Poor Silver. I'm sure she's emotionally scarred from it all. Will's shriek hurt my ears, I can't imagine what it would do to dog ears.

So it was off to bed for Will where he was much too wound up to actually go to sleep. His adrenaline was likely coursing and as a result he cried five minutes longer than usual before falling asleep. So, that made it 5 minutes and 30 seconds. He was up there pitifully wailing "my daa-dee! my daa-dee!" Poor baby. He should have asked for his mama.

A Matter of Perspective

Carter will simply not do what I tell him. He flat out refuses. I say "Carter, please stop growing up." And he just giggles and says "Mama, I can't help it. I just do it." I ask "What am I going to do to stop you from growing?" He laughs and responds, "Nothing. I have to grow up." Well. His last day of Pre-School was last Thursday and I was maudlin the whole day. I cried and cried and thought I must be growing hysterical. I don't usually get very emotional but when his class sang "Use Me Lord," I had to resort to thinking of the other things to avoid becoming a blubbering idiot. It almost worked. Then, as if that emotional attack wasn't enough, his teachers made a scrap book of the year for each child. It listed how much they had grown and how much weight they'd gained. It had pictures they'd drawn and activities they participated in. It was an emotional Hiroshima. There on the last page was a picture of Carter, 2 3/4 inches taller, and 5 pounds heavier. What are they trying to do to me? I wasn't even hormonal. Thank goodness, because otherwise I would have eaten a pound of chocolate that night . At this rate, I can only imagine what sending him to Kindergarten is going to do to me. Five days a week for 7 hours a day.

Luckily, to counteract my sentimentality, we had his last soccer game of the season. I'm sure his coach is thrilled it's over. Carter was in a bad mood for every soccer game. He chose some tiny reason to get grumpy which in turn made me grumpy. This week, he got knocked down and got his hands dirty. Seriously. Last fall, that happened and he just got right back up and kept on playing. This time he barely recognized there was a game going on after it happened. I was disappointed because Mimi and Papa had come up to watch him and he wasn't really even trying - except my patience. His Papa said "Now, now. We all have bad days. But we get 365 more of them in a year. They won't all be bad." Okay, okay. His Nana Jo called and asked how his last game went. I told her and she said - not kiddng - "Well, now. We all have bad days. Patience." Yeah, yeah.

I'm writing this while Will is asleep. He has now been asleep for 3 hours. I would wake him up, but he spent the 5 hours he was awake in the morning whining and crying and acting sleepy. He must be growing. Great. Him, too.

He's an affectionate little fellow and really loves his daddy. He lights up, smiling and saying "Daddy! Daddy!" when Nathan comes home. Nathan said I used to do that, but I don't ever remember calling him Daddy. Hmmm. Anyway, Will is getting more physical in his play. He loves to run, play chase, kick and throw any ball and climb. His particular favorite place to climb is up my legs. Then he hangs up-side-down for a few seconds, then flips over to land on his feet. He could do that endlessly if I would let him. However, white pants are not conducive to tiny tennis shoe tread. But 22 month olds don't get that. His vocabulary continues to grow and impress. He uses a few words together but mostly "My" + _____. My Daddy. My Tarter (Carter). My Mama. But what I find the most striking development is his ability and desire to feed himself. He doesn't like for anyone to wield his fork but him. Even if the food drops on the way to his mouth, he will pick it up and stick it back on his fork before putting it in his mouth.

In direct opposition to this scene is Carter. Carter is the slowest eater on the planet. He can't stop talking long enough to eat. He often comes to the table professing profound hunger only to let the meal get cold while he jabbers away like a magpie. Will sits quietly stuffing his face as Carter chatters on. Nathan invariably becomes aggravated as everyone's plate is emptied and Carter's is still full. See, Carter loves the "enjoying the family" part of supper. He often says to Nathan, who has just scolded him for talking too much and not eating enough, "But Daddy, I was just enjoying the family." I'm laughing as I write this because I'm sure I could never do the scene justice. Carter has talked non-stop today. We ate a little picnic in the back yard and he never stopped talking about how he was going to build a restaurant. Maybe he sees "enjoying the family" as "captive audience for Carter time." Oh, I know. One day he'll be a teenager and won't ever want to say one word to us and then we'll be sorry we didn't enjoy this time. Sure. Just come over to our house at the end of supper as Carter rattles on about whatever is on his mind and the rest of us sit slumped at the table, glazed over, and slightly exhausted and explain to us how bad the silent future is. It's all about perspective.

So, Carter gave me a hug the other day because I mentioned a headache coming on. I asked him why his hugs were sooooo goooood. "Because they are made of a little bit of candy and a lot of love." I'll take one of those any time I can get one.

Happy Mothers Day!

I remember my first Mother's Day. The entire week before, I wondered what kind of corsage Nathan would get for me to sport to church. As Friday slipped into Saturday, I realized that he was not aware of this tradition and on further contemplation, I realized no mothers at our church wore corsages. I wasn't disappointed or sad, but just curious how that tradition fell from popularity. My father still gets my mother her "blossom" every year. I noticed yesterday a lone mother with a beautiful corsage and smiled. She has five kids.

Instead of a corsage, I was showered with affection and two fabulous meals. Which is so much better. Carter labored for some time with his dad on some coupons for me to cash in this year. Four hours of girl time. Hugs and kisses - more kisses because Carter thinks kisses are better. One coupon was for picking up all the toys from the floor. I beamed at Nathan and said "If I turn in this coupon, I get to pick up all the toys from the floor??!!" Note to self: A sense of humor is not allowed on Mother's Day. I tried my oddball humor all day with mixed reviews. The best part was capping off the day by watching "Star Wars" on tv with Carter and Will. Carter's been playing "stoom trooper" all morning with the exception when he was "Sky Luker." I could be whomever I wanted, even a boy, except that when I tried to be Obi Wan Kenobi, I was told I should be the Han Solo. Though I protested that I wanted to be a Jedi, I was firmly relegated to the role of "that rocket driver."

Saturday's soccer game was more eventful than usual. Our team has some good players and we normally win convincingly. But Saturday's opponent was a rematch versus the only team who has beaten us. The Omegas. It was the most competitive match we played this season. But that is not where the action lie. No, Carter, who is spotty in the attention he can give to soccer, said something to one of his female teammates. The next thing I know, she shoulder flips him to the ground in one smooth motion. She obviously had practice at this move. Carter was indignant, and if I were a better mother I wouldn't have laughed as hard as I did. Carter insisted that she hurt his arm, though he didn't act like his arm was injured. He was unable to speak of the event for the rest of the day without being overcome by the sting of the original insult. Finally, on Sunday, I was able to get him to calmly tell me what happened. Here's his version: "I just said to her 'I've wrestled before.' and her wrestled me right to the ground. She's stronger than you, Daddy!" Good move, because Nathan's masculinity was thusly challenged and he responded "We'll see about that!" We'll never know what really happened but here's a picture of the two of them before it happened.

Moving on to Will. What a sweet cutie he is. Okay, okay. He's not sweet and cute all the time. In fact, he drives me crazy at least once a day. But God made him so beautiful that I normally can't even remember that when he is sitting in my lap and cuddling. He wore his big brother's "Fastest Kid in Town" t-shirt and I was astounded at how old he looks now. I guess he's making his move out of the baby stage and into full toddlerhood. I have so much fun watching as he tries to figure out the world. And I'm fully enjoying his mohawk mullet.

Dogs and Cats

Nathan finally requested the web address for this electronic diary and read some. He looked up alpha male and came up with the word "domineering." That isn't my definition of an alpha male. I didn't want to throw words around carelessly, so I did some research of my own. What I found was more my take on the subject. So, I want to clarify that my three fellows are not domineering. Not at all. They all want to be the leader. They all are confident, assertive, and determined. Are they all this way all the time? No. Are they all this way at the same time? Well, sometimes. Do they like to wrestle on the floor like a pack of pups? Yes! So now that we are operating on my definition, let's move on.

Carter had some portraits made and he was not happy about it. I couldn't believe how uncooperative he was, especially considering he loves to have his picture taken. Well, the photographer wouldn't let him do what he wanted. She wanted him to pose her way. That is, she didn't want him to wear his sunglasses, hold an old gigantic cell phone to his ear, point at the camera and scrunch up the right side of his face like he's winking. See, Alpha 2 had his own agenda and it wasn't matching up with the professional's course of action. She tried to hold out his poses as a reward and probably, she should have just let him get it out of his system. I understand her strategy. Things can easily spiral out of control and the whole session turns into a 5 year old making funny faces. But honestly, giving him instructions like "tilt your head to the right" isn't that effective. It renders a boy who is touching his left ear to his left shoulder. So, then you are left with slowly tweaking it by saying "Not so much. A little higher. Little more. A little more." That is frustrating for any kid. But he rallied when she began playing games with him. Nathan and I went to look at the proofs yesterday and I was astonished. They were gorgeous! We told the manager that the photographer was amazing to get those pictures from such an unhappy and uncooperative guy like Carter was that day. Of course, the best one was the one with the sunglasses, cell phone, and finger-pointing.

Last night, Nathan took the boys off to the grocery to pick up some supper items. Kroger is two short blocks away, but I had no expectation that they would make it back in less than an hour. It seems that every trip they take together turns into some adventure or interesting discovery. I heard them roll into the driveway but no one darkened the doorstep for a while. I began to wonder. Then, Carter enters and hands me a ticket. A real ticket to "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof." I looked at the expired ticket and asked "what should I do with this?" He instructed me "Take it outside and give it to Daddy. He'll show you." Okay. I turned to get my shoes on as Carter ran out the back door yelling "her's coming! Her's coming!" I went out the front door and walked around to the back. I had no idea where they were. As I cleared the side of the house, I saw Nathan up in the clubhouse, with Will, and a huge sign that said "CATS." I looked down at my ticket and back to the Cats on the green plastic roof and proceeded to laugh hysterically. I told them that only they could find a huge CATS sign and a ticket for that play on the same trip. Nathan said look what it says on the other side. He flipped it and there was another word completely appropriate for my Kentucky rooting, cat loving, God proclaiming son. I laughed some more and said "we'll have to show Mrs. Barlow. She says Carter will be the next Billy Graham." When we are not cheering the cats on, we can just flip the sign over and have a "REVIVAL."

The Rain in Spain

Talking has to be the most interesting developmental experience for me to witness. Unlike other skills, learning to speak involves years and years. While Will is beginning to put meaning to sounds and stringing some together, Carter, a few years down the road, is fine tuning pronunciation and most appropriate verb tenses. In all honesty, Carter had us worried. We've casually asked a couple speech therapists about him not saying S and some blends, like SL, were distorted.

Will's strides are exciting and fun. Just a couple of days ago, he actually said bear rather than making a growling roar. He said "bur", true to his Harlan County roots. Nathan and I loved how he said it so much that we asked him to repeat it about 15 times. Now, he thinks it's particularly entertaining to say "bur." After all, he says it and everyone laughs and claps. Last night, he recited his entire repertoire to his Mimi on the phone. She asked him to say some words that were kind of unrealistic, but he really tried to say them. Still, though, my favorite is when he's asked "Will, can you say cat?" He stretches his lips wide and says "Neeeeooooow."

Carter's recent strides are more bittersweet. We were driving down the road and he said "I'm kind of sleepy." The realization of what just happened smacked me in the face. I asked him to repeat what he said. Again, "I'm kind of sleepy." For at least two years, it was "squeepy." I began to wonder how long I had missed it. When had he suddenly turned into a little boy from my preschooler? Then, just this morning, he said "I also...." and a tear welled up in my eye. No longer is also - "auswee." At least we still have "skank you" for thank you. Every time he prays, Nathan and I bite our lips so we don't smile too big as Carter starts out, "God, skank you...."

Carter had his kindergarten check up this week. He did great and Dr. Mack declared him to be a delight. I was surprised that his weight was in the 50-75 percentile! I expressed this surprise to the doctor and instructed Carter to show him his muscles. Carter sucked in his belly as far as possible, revealing all his ribs and to the trained eye some internal organs, I'm sure. Dr. Mack said "Wow! Look at those muscles! It's frightening!" That was the perfect response to the sight we all beheld. Skank you, Dr Mack.