Just John and Mama

Dear John,

Today was just you and me.  I can't remember the last time we went somewhere just the two of us.  It was lovely.

I took you to the Nature Center first.  We walked around at your pace and looked at everything you wanted to see.

The big wooden sign that I normally take pictures in front of was gone... possibly for repair, possibly for good.  It was weird to think that there will be pictures of us in front of that sign and you won't remember it.

You were in full imagination mode today.  You were a Super Friend (as a result of watching a lot of the 80's cartoon Super Friends).  You even tied on your cape.

And you put on your mask.

Then we were ready to run around the Nature Center.  And we did run.  After a year of weight loss and exercise, I can outrun you, sweet boy, and that was a glorious feeling.

We dug in the Dino Pit for a while.  Normally we go in the warm part of spring and into the summer and the Dino Pit is scorchingly hot, but today it was perfect.

I don't think I had appreciated how much of your attention for activities is brought to you by your sister and her constant entertainment value in your life.  You had a great time at the Nature Center, but were done in about forty-five minutes.  Since we were already in south Austin, I took you over to the big Zilker Park playground.

 

You even got to eat the snack your daddy packed especially for you because, as he said, "Mrs. Robinson won't be there" and she and Mrs. Hazen are your normal go-to sources for snacks on outings.


Once again, although you had a great time, something was missing, and I'm pretty sure it was your sister.  You normally run all around a playground like this, but you were very wary of the other kids and would only approach a structure if it was completely devoid of other children.  You actually got in trouble at the sand box for throwing sand.  It took me a while to realize that you were trying to create a sand play area off to the side where there were no other kids.  Once I explained that the only way to play with sand would be to get in the sand box with the two other children, both of whom were preschoolers like yourself, you decided to abandon the sand box completely.

We also went to Anna's Toy Depot where I found a few legos I wanted and two instruction manuals I had lost, and then we went out to lunch at the Olive Garden.  We came home for our nap (well, my nap, you just kicked me a lot and watched Dr. Horrible's Sing-a-long Blog) and then I took you up to my school to play before we went over to the Robinson's for dinner (see, son, Mrs. Robinson still fed you today).

It was a wonderful day and I know you enjoyed it so much because you have told me about twenty times today that you love me and another dozen or so times that you like me and then, to drive your point home, you even said specifically that you had "so much fun" today.

Today made me realize, though, that we don't do this enough.  You don't have a clear idea of how to be out and about without your big sister and I don't have a clear idea of how to entertain just you.  I am so grateful for the sibling bond between the two of you that I haven't thought about the time you might need alone with a parent.  We'll work on that.

Because while I adore how close you and your sister are right now,

I want to make sure you get the independence you are going to need in a world that won't always accommodate having your big sister by your side.

(Even though one of my greatest hopes for you is that you and your sister will always maintain this great relationship you have right now.)

Love,
Mom