Bikes, Begonias, and Bed Rest

Dear John,

St. Patrick's Day makes your dad miss his brother.  I think it makes everyone who knew your uncle miss him.  It's hard to know what to do with that grief, so your dad and I try, every St. Patrick's Day to do things that make us think of your uncle in happy ways.

For your dad, that means getting outside, in the fresh air.  He wanted to go for a walk around the dam at Lake Georgetown.

We took your sister's bike and her camera.  Mostly, she rode her bike and you took pictures.  Your Uncle James loved, loved, loved riding his bike and so I know that seeing your sister riding up and down that rode brought some bittersweet feelings for your dad.

You did get a few turns on the bike, too, which made both you and your dad very happy.

I enjoyed walked in the back, with you, watching your dad and sister.  You and I took pictures of each other.

 You also took many, many, many pictures of the ground.

 And a few pictures of the landscape.

 You also captured your dad and sister, way on ahead.

Back at the house, your dad cooked a special Irish stew, another activity that I know made him think of his brother.

 It was a lovely St. Patrick's Day and I am, as always, so grateful to have our family together to share it.

It was the day after St. Patrick's Day, though, that I got to do the thing that makes me the happiest when I miss your uncle.  I worked in the garden.  It's a tradition I started with myself the first St. Patrick's Day after he died.  Your Uncle James loved to garden... a lot of the Nolens do.  I had never tried and the trying something new and challenging is also something that your Uncle James supported.

For two years now, I have been working on this corner of the backyard, getting rid of the old playscape, moving the landscaping timbers, and relocated all of the gravel that was under the old structure.

 I have finally shifted a significant portion to the corner and moved the landscaping rocks over there.

 

You helped a lot.  You wanted to use all of the tools I was using and be a part of the process.  You also enjoyed the hunt for roly pollies under the rocks and in the leaves.

I had originally planned to just redo the pinwheel garden, but then I thought it might be nice to branch out and do actual, you know, plants.  So during your nap I went to the store and bought some begonias and geraniums. I broke up the soil in the old pinwheel plot and then covered it with a new layer of topsoil.

You were very involved in the planting of the begonias.  I would get them out of their little plastic containers and you would carefully put them into the hole we dug together and then cover them back up with dirt.  You did almost half of the planting.

 While I was finishing the planting and also redoing the rock garden, you helped to spruce up the back fence.

At one point I looked over and  you were painting yourself.  I told you not to do that and you said, "I have to.  I'm a monster!  See my face?"  Well, okay then.

Once the plot was done, you were so excited to water all of the plants.

Then you wanted to plant the pinwheels and I gave you several choices of spaces and you chose the area under your window.

You planted the pinwheels and then, because you wanted to water more than the begonias really needed, I let you water the pinwheels.

The backyard was beautiful by the time we finished.

I know it looks like you and I did all of this by ourselves.  I want to be clear that your sister did help, from time to time.  She was good about bringing us water and she did do a few things here and there.  But mostly, it was just you and me.  I like that gardening may be the thing we have together.  I don't know much about it but I want to learn.  It's how I like to miss your uncle.

As for your dad, well, here's the thing about your dad.  He never once mentioned your uncle this weekend.  He never does.  He doesn't like to talk about things that make him sad.  So you probably won't be having long talks with your dad about his grief.  The things to look for are the times he decides to go for little hikes with you kids.  Walking around outside is something your dad likes, but not enough to actually take the time to do it.  Taking the time means he's thinking of his brother, who loved the outdoors.  You also have to listen for the sound of Flogging Molly, your uncle's favorite band.  When you dad puts it on, it's a sure sign he misses his brother.

The other way to tell how much your dad misses James is to take his temperature.  It's a funny statement, I know.  But your dad never used to get sick.  Ever.  Then your uncle died and now, several times a year, often when we go to Houston to see family and at times of the year when your uncle is heavy on your dad's mind, your dad just physically gets sick.  It's like his body puts so much into protecting his heart from the grief that it doesn't have enough left to protect the immune system from illness.

Your dad got through St. Patrick's Day just fine, but then on Sunday, he was exhausted.  Finally, at five he just went to bed.  When he got up the next morning, he was so nauseous that he actually passed out.  Within twenty four hours, though, he was back to his old self.

He just needed to shut down for a little bit.

You're not going to remember your uncle, I know.  But I want you to know that your dad misses him terribly, even though he doesn't say anything.  And I want you to know that your life is going to be full of bike rides, and hikes, heartfelt attempts at gardening, and an extreme love of all things Irish.  All of which is designed to honor your uncle and give you and a your sister a little taste of what your uncle would have brought to your lives.

Love,
Mom

Play for Most

Dear John,

This is you having fun at the Play for All Abilities park today.

That lasted about ten minutes.

You were there for all of twenty.  But your first ten minutes at the park were a time out for the fit you threw before we even left the house.  I know a two minute time out is appropriate for a two year old, but sadly for you, son, the time outs in this family only count when you are compliant and quiet and so your own time outs are frequently much longer.  But you settled, had you time out and played for about ten minutes, after which your sister wanted her bike from the car and no amount of explanation that we were going to the car and coming right back convinced you to leave under your own power.

I try to be very positive about you all the time.  You are my darling boy and I don't want anyone speaking negatively about you.  I have mentioned some of your recent behaviors to my friends and to your grandma, looking for ideas and validation.  I was sharing some stories last night with my friends Carol and Jerri and Carol pointed out that I should write some of them down so that one day when you have your own Irish boy with his own Irish temper and you call me wondering what in the world is going on, I can say, "ah, yes, son, you did that... and that... and that... and that, too."

I also feel the need to point out that while your little tantrums may have been a result of frustration with a lack of communication or just feeling overwhelmed by your own emotions back when you started them at twelve or fifteen months, they are certainly something you have control over at this point.  The famous airplane, left in the Wells Fargo parking lot is my prime example.  You fitted over not being able to reach it from your car seat.  You fitted when I told you I would not be able to get it because I was driving.  You fitted when I told you that I needed you to stop screaming so I could concentrate on driving.  You stopped completely when I pulled the car over, thinking you might get your plane.  What you did get was a small swat to your bottom, prompting a new fit.  You continued the fit as I put your plane down in the parking lot and wrote out my note.  You continued as we drove off.  That's when I stopped the car again and pointed out a McDonalds and told you in a low even tone, "If you do not stop right now, I will drive up to that McDonalds and hand your other plane to the lady at the window and tell her to take it home to her little boy."  You stopped on a dime.  Right that second and did not fuss again the rest of the evening.

You did the same thing Sunday over some goldfish... you wanted them in the bag, I wanted them in the bowl.  Before we had a chance to negotiate anything you turned to me and said in a loud ugly voice, "You wrong, Mama!"  No goldfish for you and straight to your room.  An hour later, you were still screaming and did not stop until I told you that if you could not control yourself, you would not be going to Sea World.  You stopped that fit and did not have another one until the end of the day at Sea World.

Among your rough moments at Sea World was your ride in Sabrina's stroller.  You wanted to keep pulling the top up and down.  Mr. Ford wanted his daughter's stroller to stay nice for as long as possible.  He asked you to stop in his nice Mr. Ford way.  I told you to stop in my "mama means business" way.  You kept your hand on the top of the stroller, not playing with it, but not complying either.  I told you to put your hands down.  You didn't.  I rephrased, "Put your hands in your lap."  You did.  And then I turned away and you put one hand straight in the air... not messing with the stroller, but showing that you still had the last say.  I walked away, your arm got tired, and we all moved on.

Even there, I understood some physical exhaustion was making it hard for you and your dad and I talked you through it, making it clear that you would not get a souvenir if you didn't calm down.  You calmed down.  You got a souvenir... a shark and a book about sharks.  And then you refused to give me the book in the parking lot.  You yelled at me.  You snatched it away from me.  And finally you threw it on the ground.  And I got the receipt and the credit card from your dad and returned your souvenirs.  No worries, though.  You happily played with your sister the whole way home... she with her souvenir Shamu whale, you with your invisible alligator that I suspect you fake shoplifted.

You do that a lot.  Obey... sort of.  When I sent you to your room for a nap on Sunday, I told you to get in bed.  You fitted for a while and then settled down.  I went to see if you were asleep and found you laying on your pillow, with your blanket... on the floor.  When I tried video taping you, since one friend suggested that if you saw what you look like you might reconsider the fits.  I videoed.  I showed them to you later, when you had calmed down.  I asked you if you liked what you looked like.  You said, "yes."  I said, "But that doesn't look like my sweet boy" and you said, "yes it do!"

Last night, while I was visiting with Carol and Jerri, you were in your room.  I let you have a movie since I wasn't available to settle you into sleep with books or a nighttime chat.  We thought you were asleep until we heard the triumphant cry, "I got the lock off!  I got the lock off!  I got the lock off!" and you came running in with the childproof lock in two parts, in your hands.  You actually took the pieces over to the trash can, looked at me and said, "I throw these away?"

Um, no.

Mostly, I look at all of this and think about how smart you are, how determined, how focused and driven.  On the day of the goldfish fit, you fitted for an hour and slept for two and still woke up asking for goldfish... in a bag not a bowl.  You just don't give up.  These are all going to be wonderful traits that will help you to be very successful in life. I also see the connection between independence and defiance.  I also know as a Kindergarten teacher what happens when you don't adequately teach the difference in the preschool years.

I want you to have cool toys.  I want you to have exciting adventures.

I want you to be obedient more.

So if you look back at this blog and your sisters you will notice that she played more, got more treats, and right now, if you could look in your rooms, you would see hers is full of toys and yours has almost nothing except a sticker chart showing you how many more "no fit" days it will be until you get your toys back (six at last count).  It's not fair.  I see that.  But what I see being unfair is that you got your mother's Irish temper and your sister did not and so you are just going to have to work harder in life to keep your emotions in check.  That's the part that's not fair.  That I love your sister enough to help her learn little things like empathy and gratitude and I love you enough to help you learn things like self-control and how to channel anger into productive outlets.  Well, that's 100% fair.

Love,
Mom

John's Fav'rit

Dear John,

For months now, you have been telling me at random times, "I wan' go Sea World.  It's my fav'rit.  We go Sea World with Fords?"

Then your dad started talking about a Disney World vacation and I swear to your ears it's "Sea World" and "Dis Sea World" and you are so worried that we are going to mess up and take you to "dis" Sea World instead of the Sea World that is your favorite.  I know this because on the way to Sea World, your dad was talking Disney with Mr. Ford who has been much more recently than your dad and I and you kept saying from the back seat, "No we go Sea World today!  It's my fav'rit!"

Mrs. Ford pointed out that perhaps we should call that place in Florida "Disney" and not bother you with information about it on the way to Sea World.  She also pointed out that since Sea World is so much closer and more affordable that it's lucky it's your favorite and not the other.

You did have a wonderful time today.  You saw the Shamu show and told the trainer afterwards that Shamu is an orca and that's a kind of dolphin, which is true.

You fed the dolphins.  Which is you other fav'rit.

You played your fav'rit made up game in which you are Nemo and I tell you, over and over and over again not to touch that boat (which is whatever object you decide looks most like a boat near you) and then I tell you "If you put on foot on that boat..." and then you do and I make an angry face then we play it all over again. 

Can you tell that you are working out the difference between independence and defiance these days?

We rode rides.  I rode the carousel with you which was fun.

But then your dad rode the Shamu roller coaster, your very first roller coaster ride, with you and that was a lot more fun!

We stopped and took pictures with various costumed characters.

Your dad kept saying that this trip was a trial run for our summer trip to Disney and  so as he was gauging whether or not you and your sister could handle the pace and the physical exertion, I thought it was fair to make sure he could handle the sheer boredom that is standing in line for a picture with a guy in a plush costume.  (My challenge was having to ride that crazy Shamu coaster with your sister since your dad could only ride with one of you and both of you wanted to go.  It wasn't easy, but I made it.)  Happily we all made it.  Especially since I don't think your dad was joking about "family boot camp" if we all collapsed halfway through the day at Sea World.

We did learn to expect a slower pace and to leave time for the unexpected joys as you, your sister and little Sabrina all settled in at the Coral Reef for a solid hour.  You and Sabrina looking at fish and your sister hosting her own little Sea World show which you were somewhat involved in, when you weren't looking at fish or otherwise in your own world.

By the time I thought to get the video camera out, we had been in the aquarium for over forty-five minutes, so the excitement you are showing over the ray is really the level of enthusiasm you maintained for the entire visit.

As I was filming, I mistakenly thought you were part of your sister's orca show.  You explained yourself well, and really I should have noticed the mask you put on.  Regardless, since becoming the caped crusader is something you do often these days, Mrs. Ford found this image for you.

Batman is your other fav'rit right now.  And also Green Lantern.  And Flash.

I love you and your varied interests so much.  I love that you tried to do your own orca show in the aquarium, loudly announced "Ladies and Gentlemmmm" and then when you say that actual people were looking at you, you turned and hid your face in the wall of fish.  I know that's why you had to be Batman when the camera was on.  It was too much to have to be just John in that moment.  I get it.  I have had my own anxieties and understand yours all too well.

It was a wonderful day at Sea World.  I loved sharing it with you and I'm sure we'll go back at least two or three times this year, probably with the Fords.

After all, it's your fav'rit.

Love,

Mom

South Austin

Dear John,

I have this new plan to spend all of Spring Break outdoors.  It's always so hot in the summer that any outdoor plans I have that don't include rising before dawn or being immersed in water turn out to be pretty miserable.

Today I wanted to try out the Botanical Gardens.

They were, first of all, breathtakingly gorgeous.

 

Secondly, they really inspired you and your sister in some careful nature observation... not of the lovely flowers and plants, but of the local doodlebug population.

At the opposite end of the Botanical Garden is the Hartman Prehistoric Garden.

 

From there, we could see out the gate to our usual parking spot for the Nature Center.

Your dad and I have these plans to take you and your sister to Disney World this summer and in preparation for the time at Disney, I thought it would do us all some good to push our walking limits, so we headed off to the Nature Center.

If I had planned on doing the Nature Center, I would have brought a change of clothes with me.  I did have a set in the car, but I warned you and your sister that if you played in the water and got wet, you would have to walk around wet until we got back to the car.

So the two of you walked so carefully.

So very carefully.

Until that first slippery spot.

And then it was all over.  I actually told your sister as she looked up at me, worried that I would be mad, "I'm over it.  Really.  Just play."  She wasn't sure, though, and the next time she fell, she called out, "Mom, are you over it?"  Yes.  Really over it.  You two had so much fun.

We ended the Nature Center at Prince John's backyard, where both of you Pavlovianly wanted dry clothes and a snack, neither of which I had.

But you made it back out of the Nature Center and all the way through the Botanical Gardens and to the car where I did have both dry clothes and a snack.

Tomorrow is Sea World and I think if you can do as well there as you did today that your father may give up his threat to hold family boot camp to get us all in shape for Disney.

Please do well tomorrow!

Love,
Mom

Random Acts of Kindness and Calorie Counting

Dear John,

Your dad and I have been watching our calories and working out a lot in the last year.  It's led to a lot of good things but it hasn't changed the way I feel about food... especially chocolate.  I moderate my chocolate cravings by keeping Dove chocolates around.  They are about 50 calories a piece and pretty satisfying.  Any other chocolate really can't be in the house.

So today when I told you that you could have a cookie from the Monument Cafe, that's all I wanted to buy: one cookie.  Any more than that is pure temptation for me.  Unfortunately, when I asked about the cookies, I found out that they only sell them in bags of six.

Some day, I hope to be able to have a bag of six cookies in the house, but now's not the day.  I tried to give the other cookies back to the lady, but she wouldn't take them and told me to freeze them.  Freezing them made me think of the other kind of cookies people freeze: Girl Scout Cookies.  I made it through Girl Scout cookie season with the genius plan of buying cookies only for troops... you pay the girl scout, supporting her fund raising, and the Girl Scouts of America send the cookies overseas.  Win-win.  And also, in my weight loss, I have learned that the only people who need to be eating all of the extra calories in things like Girl Scout Cookies are people burning lots of extra calories... like soldiers.

So, back to the five cookies (since you and your sister did eat the one).  I wasn't mailing them and I'm not sure where to find soldiers in Georgetown, so who else burns a lot of calories and deserves sweet appreciation?

Firefighters.

So we went to the local fire station and presented them with our problem of too many cookies.  They said they could totally take care of that and then they told us that their fire truck tours had recently changed in price from $26 to five cookies.  Our lucky day, I guess.

You were very shy around the firemen at first, but they were sweet and you warmed up to them.

 Especially when they let you drive their fire engine.

I know it was a completely random thing to do... taking cookies to firemen.  It makes me think of some of the random ideas my mother used to have.  She would say things like that, like "we should take these to firemen" but then she has your initial shyness in social situations and so she would think on it and wind up changing her mind.

So I hope I can teach you both, the random ideas, and the ways to get past the moment where you ring the doorbell on the fire station and wonder what in the world this fireman is going to say to you and just do it.

Because chances are, he's going to say "thanks for the cookies."

Love,
Mom

Time with Fords

 Dear John,

You call this little girl "Bina" which is short for Sabrina.  You like her a lot and it is so utterly adorable to see you interact with her.

The Fords came over the other night and you and Sabrina and your sister and I played and read books for a bit.

Then we went out tonight with the Fords to celebrate Mrs. Ford's birthday.  I was holding Sabrina, so you worked your way into Mrs. Ford's lap... if your mama could have her baby, then she could hold you!

Mostly, though, you were very busy with fries all evening and didn't seem to mind that I was holding Sabrina for most of the meal.

I am so glad that you have gotten to enjoy Sabrina and don't have a lot of jealously over her and that any jealously you do have can be solved by a little extra attention from Mr. and Mrs. Ford.

Love,
Mom

Tough Love

To Whom It May Concern,

I am leaving this toy airplane here because my son pitched a fit over it in the parking lot.  If you find it and have a boy of your own, please take it home to him and may he be better behaved than my son has been this evening.

[Dear John, I would attach a picture of said plane, but it's now sitting outside of a Wells Fargo bank next to a rock which is holding down a ticket stub from one of our Houston adventures with a note of that exact sentiment if not the exact wording.  I hope you are one step closer to learning to control that temper, sweet boy.  Love, Mom]