Boy or Bear?

It appears our little Adam is going through a bit of an identity crisis. His idol right now is Winnie the Pooh. Before bedtime he and I always have a little cuddle time and a little Q&A about how his day went. I was asking the usual, "Did you see a plane?", "What did you eat?" and I threw in "What's your name?". His answer, "Pooh, name Pooh". I asked again to get it straight and then had Tim come in and ask. Again, "Pooh". We tried to explain his name is Adam. He shook his head emphatically, pointed to his chest and said, "Pooh, name Pooh!". We'll see how long this one lasts. I can already see me years down the road recounting this story to his first girlfriend! (j/k)

Two Much

I can hardly write fast enough to keep up with all the cute things Natalie and Adam say and do.. So here are a few...

Natalie:

"Mommy someday I will marry Moe (Adam) and we will dance together and play toys together. And I have a cake for us."

"If you ever see wolves chasing you you run away Moe!" (said randomly while playing one day- what goes on in that little head?)

Said often during dinner: "Mom did you know you can make your food dance?" (proceeds to make her forkful of chicken or biscuit dance)

While watching Adam painstakingly try on one of her plastic dress up heels, "I think that looks very handsome for boys."

One day I walked in on her dancing with her pillow. She looked at me and said solemnly,"Do you know some people like to dance with pillows Mom?"

"If you ever see a dog you just give him a jellybean."

"My name is 'Kiss' and Moe is named 'Hug."

"I'm real right Mom? I'm not made out of wood?"

Adam:

Is frequently found clomping around the house in one of my slippers or heels or one of Daddy's sneakers.

His favorite song is the B-I-B-L-E and he puts the most emphasis on the E!.

Particularly enjoys dipping all of his food in whatever's available, says "Bip!" as he does it.

Sings the entire Itsy Bitsy Spider complete with hand motions.

Attempts to chase planes in the backyard yelling "Pwane, Fwy! Pwane, Fwy!" (plane, fly), we believe he thinks he can fly too if only he runs fast enough.

When he feels it has been too long since he has connected with me he comes trudging down the hall to find me calling "Ma, ma, ma!" and puckering up for a kiss.

It's the Great Pumpkin...

As you can see we spent this past weekend at a pumpkin patch. Some notable moments including Natalie falling flat into a large, rotted pumpkin, then she was involved in a minor accident involving the cart and a few more pumpkins, the cart careened and she went flying out.

Adam fell in love with several varieties of squash which kept him occupied for all of 15 minutes then he began to sob, trudging through the patch after me. Tim was bravely attempting to maneuver cart and corral kids while I searched in vain for the "perfect pumpkin".

After 45 minutes in the harsh sun and tripping through several miles of pumpkin wasteland we gathered up some small Boo (white) pumpkins and headed for the barn to snatch up some of their perfect picks. All in all we laughed, we cried, we fell down, we drained ourselves of all energy and most importantly, we had a blast!

Happy Pumpkin Hunting one and all!

A Beautiful Mess

I have a longstanding date. Every afternoon once the little man is tucked in bed and before our budding artist is down for some quiet time, she and I splash some color on the canvas and enjoy silly conversations and quite a few giggles. We began to notice awhile back that Natalie was pretending everything was a paintbrush, everything needed to be painted.

After purchasing some paints and small brushes it was clear she is very artistic. Her artwork is just like her personality; bold, colorful, uninhibited. Whereas I neatly pour circles of color in rows on the tray and carefully outline a bird or a flower on the paper, Natalie swirls the colors together with abandon, paying no attention to order and splashes globs and blobs of color all over my neat rows of blooms.
At first I felt a little frustrated, longing to show her how to be patient and work slowly till she created the picture in her mind, work carefully with one color at a time, don't paint over a well drawn picture. It was hard to keep my mouth shut when she would lean laughing on my knee, paintbrush slopping all over my pants to whisper in my ear or show me an idea. I was hard pressed not to watch the clock, willing the timer to sound for quiet in our home, when I could clean up the mess and order would return.

And then it hit me. It is a mess to me but to her it is beautiful. "Isn't that wonderful Mom?", she asked me, gesturing towards an unrecognizable smear of browns and blues and lilacs. "See what I did?" And to her it was wonderful. Beautiful. A beautiful mess. While I was concerned with cleaning and neatness she was enjoying the experience. Not worrying what came next or how it would all turn out. Enjoying every minute.

As I thought more about it the painting looked a lot like my life. Swirling through the days, a punch of color here, add some exciting events, a little mundane housework and billpaying, glop on a little marital tension and late nights and you've got yourself a mess.

That is if you leave out the moments of breathless wonder as our boy strings a sentence together or learns to run, or the belly laughs when Natalie does crazy somersaults down the hallway, or still getting butterflies when my husband takes my hand or gives me tiny kisses all over my face. Those things are what makes the mess beautiful. Most beautiful of all because a Master painter is at work and to my great relief he isn't finished yet.

All the World's A Stage..

It is with some anticipation and much misgiving that I prepare to watch the Vice Presidential Debate this evening.