Wedding

We traveled to Colorado earlier this month to attend the wedding of my cousin, Sara, and her beau, Jordan.  The weather had been beautiful all week, but of course, as it was time to leave for the wedding site (on the beautiful grounds of a local home) the skies darkened ominously.  An hour before the ceremony was to start, it started to sprinkle and the wind whipped around so fiercely tablecloths flew off their stands and my hair decorated my face like Chewbacca.  I was certain we'd have a late ceremony or a drenched bride.

Then somehow the clouds cleared and the next thing I knew there stood the groom next to a beautiful, wind-free canopy, and soon after the bride walked toward her man under a clear blue sky.  Magic.

 We got seated pretty early, to make room for our large crowd.

 Lila entertained her great-grandparents, Frankey and Gordon...

 ... and auditioned for the part of the flower girl.

 Uncle Nelse (and the iphone) helped keep River busy.

 Jordan looked calm and handsome as he waited for his bride.

 Sara was just gorgeous, of course, and so happy.  The ceremony was lovely and unique, written entirely by the couple and presided over by their close friend.

After kisses and congratulations were passed around, Lila spent most of the evening doing this:

I had a fantastic time at the reception.  The food and company was fantastic.  After the kids were fed, we hit the dance floor with the kids and didn't leave until well after their usual bedtime.  There is something about dancing with kids that is just so liberating.  You don't really care what you look like out there because everyone is just having so much fun.

It was a wonderful, memorable event.  Thanks so much, Sara and Jordan, for sharing it with us!

"I want to do it!"

Examples of the "big boy" syndrome we're currently experiencing.

• will only brush his teeth with Daddy's huge, Sonicare toothbrush
• wants to scrub his feet with mommy's loofah every night
• determined to eat with his fork, even if he has to pick food up with his hands to get it on there
  
• likes to practice sitting on the potty (like mommy and daddy), though he has not yet gone pee or poo
  
• wants to climb stairs unaided (he will swat me away if I try to put a hand on him)
  
• likes to tell the kitties when they're doing something wrong
  
• is refusing to sit in his high chair for dinner because he wants to be in a regular chair
  

River News: Month Twenty

Oh my sweet boy,

You have had quite a full month. It seems that you are firmly in the throws of TODDLERHOOD, and by that I mean you are still mostly your sweet, considerate, funny self... except when you're not. And when you're not, you are an out of control caveman. ME WANT seems to be theme of the moment.





















For the past few days we've seen the most primitive behavior emerge during bedtime. Me want splash! Me want story! Me no want sleep! Last night we followed our usual routine: bath, jammas, stories, and - nope - nothing after that, because instead of moving onto songs and bed, you cried and cried for your favorite book. We'd already done quite a thorough job of reading Katy Caboose and when we went to turn off the lights and snuggle in for song time, you cried and cried, "Boose! Boose! Boose!" It was pretty much the toddler equivalent of "Read it again, dad." You screamed "Boose!" for a good twenty minutes before you finally wore yourself out in daddy's arms. More and more you find any excuse you can to extend bedtime and avoid that torturous moment of laying down to sleep. You make the hungry sign, you ask for juice, you ask for mommy, nope, what you really meant was daddy. If you thought it would get you out of bed I'm sure you'd ask for a glass of pickle juice and a heaping plate of haggis.
















It's made for frustrating moments and hilarious ones (the night you hopped out of the bath dripping wet and ran around holding your tush comes to mind), and I know you're just testing us and asserting your independence. But my boy, you need sleep, and momma and dadda need a sliver of time alone at the end of the day, and neither of those things are coming easy lately.
















None of this is helped by the fact that you've been sick almost every day this month. I suspect it's because your system is adjusting to the lack of antibodies since weening but the informed doctor we saw this week assured me in her most condescending voice that, no, it's just winter and kids get sick. Either way, illness brings out the primitive beastie in you, which means we all get to look forward to the very long winter ahead of us.





















When not acting like the missing link, you have been a lovely, adorable little man. We hosted Thanksgiving this year and you got to spend lots of time with your grandparents and great-grandparents. Grandma Frankey was beyond delighted that you warmed up to her this trip. She's been waiting for a great-grandchild to show her a little affection, and the hugs, kisses, and smiles you showered on her have made her a happy lady. You were particularly thrilled with grandpa Terry this time around, and though he's a great guy, I'm sure the M&M's he kept sneaking you didn't hurt.
















When they arrived on Tuesday, we put my dad and grandpa to work right away, assembling cabinets, hanging them, and fixing a bunch of stuff around the house. You saw the men at work and went right in to help with a hammer and a screwdriver. It was the sweetest thing to see all those generations working together. A few days before he had to go home, you spontaneously started calling grandpa Terry "Dado." I tell you kid, you know how to make a heart melt.































All the grandparents got some great moments with you - coloring with grandma Julie, getting tickled by grandpa Jack, making playdough shapes with grandma Janie, and eating turkey sandwiches with grandpa Terry. You have also thoroughly charmed your little cousin Finn. The moment he sees you, he wants to do what you're doing and eat what you're eating. He crawls after you, watching with wide open eyes to see what you'll come up with. In return you treat him like a little brother: a little antagonizing, a little helping, and a lot of giggles.
















Thanksgiving itself was a great day - we cooked and cooked and ate and ate. But my favorite moment came after the dinner when we hauled ourselves up and went for a walk to take some of the pressure off our belts. It was a short trek - just a few blocks in the direction of Harvard Square - and about halfway down we saw two fire engines pass with sirens blaring. You were thrilled and, as usual, asked for more.





















You had forgotten about the trucks by the time we walked a few more blocks and ran into the fire station. One of the garage doors was open, so we decided to have a look around, and just about the moment you peeked inside, the two fire trucks returned to the station. There we were - eleven of us scattering like mice to make room for the trucks - and I kept thinking how put out the firemen would be we were in their way. After the trucks were in, we gathered to quietly make our way home, but oh no, the fire chief came out of his truck and did the most amazing thing. With a huge smile on his face, he made a bee-line for you and said, "Does he want to see the trucks?! Come on in! Hey guys, leave the lights on."





















It was as if God had swooped down and asked if you wanted a peek at Heaven. You were dumbstruck - mouth open, eyes like saucers, paralyzed with joy. I think you were a bit overwhelmed, because you clawed onto me and couldn't get the nerve to climb on the truck or get too close to the firemen. I understand. It's a bit like meeting your greatest idol and losing the ability to speak. I was so touched by the generosity and enthusiasm of the firemen. Even though you were stone still and silent, and even though it was Thanksgiving night and they were at work and not home with their families, they poured smiles on you and welcomed us all. They made sure we stuck around while one of the men got you and Finn fire hats and stickers and coloring books and they sent us off into the night feeling very warm in spite of the icy air.





















Of course as soon as we turned the corner, your stunned silence was broken and you asked for more.

You are so heart-breakingly lovely, my darling boy. And I love you more than you could ever imagine.

Mommy

day one: so far... okay

River had a good day yesterday - we played at the park, both had good naps, and went to the toddler group at Stellabella in the afternoon. River seems to have an aversion to the group sing along, though, because as soon as the free play part is over and we get in a circle to sing, he starts a litany of "go, go, go." Poor guy bangs on the door like an inmate. This is torture. Don't make me siiiiiinnngg!

Last night Kevin and Crystal were kind enough to let us over and cook dinner so I didn't have that extra task on my plate. Plus it filled up the roughest last couple hours of the day. He went to sleep pretty easy - not a surprise considering how much activity we'd had during the day.

One short wake up in the middle of the night, and up at 6:2oam. A pretty good start.

Today has been a bit rougher, so far. River is already missing his dad and acting out in silly ways. More clingy, needing to be carried more, fussier at meals. But he's down for his nap now, and I hope the rest of the afternoon goes a little bit better.

I've taken a new zen approach to meltdowns. This morning we went to Darwin's for breakfast before heading to the Natural History Museum for a playdate with my moms' group. After a short time in Darwin's he was begging to, "Go, go, go." It was too early to go to the museum and too cold to just hang out outside, so I held off as long as possible. Finally, when it seemed like we'd killed enough time, I tried to get his snow suit on so we could get out the door, but he went limp and wouldn't cooperate. Instead of fighting him and manhandling the suit on, I called his bluff.

"Fine, you don't want to go? I'm okay sitting here and finishing my coffee." He looked totally confused that I wasn't playing into his hand, and just sat there for a minute. After a little while he was ready and put on the suit with no complaints. Chalk one up for the mommy!

good times

We've been crazy busy the past few days. Between a mad dash to get our current condo ready to go on the market, searching for the best flooring, appliance, and soundproofing options for the new house, and some insane yard work (long story, perhaps you'll hear it later) we have had very little time to devote solely to Mr. Riverman. The poor guy has been carted here and there, sent on playdates with the neighbors, brought along for endless errands, pushed from activity to activity with little time to switch gears--AND YET, he has been an absolute prince about it all.

I have to say I'm loving this current toddler phase. I know that it's very likely, in fact it is a veritable certainty, that we have not seen the worst. Still, right now River's attitude is not only okay, it's fantastic.

Rather than get into a laundry list of all the great things he's doing lately, let me give you an example from yesterday: River had already spent the morning at the sitter's, endured a very long car ride, and sat through an hour and a half of mom and dad examining appliances. Normally this would be a recipe for disaster and we would try to get home as quickly as possible.

But it was getting late, none of us had eaten dinner, and faced with yet another change of venue or the twenty minute ride home, we chose to eat out. A few minutes later we found ourselves at the Cheesecake Factory and were told it would be a half an hour wait for a table. Hungry and tired, I was sure more waiting would push River over the edge. Rather than stand in the entry with all the other bored parents and kids we decided go out to the courtyard to let him wander around and get some fresh air.

Blasting through the patio sound system was a Counting Crows album, and just as I was thinking how cheesy and loud the music was, River started waving his arms. Shake shake! Shake shake! Turn and smile. Shake shake! He was dancing!

He heard the music, wanted to move, and found a great way to entertain himself (and all the folks eating outside). And only moments before, I feared we would have to pack it up and move on before he had a meltdown.

Dinner wasn't the easiest--he needed lots of time in mom or dad's lap, he picked at his food, he wanted to wander around--but still we had no tantrums, no food throwing, and no embarrassing scenes. In fact he charmed everyone who came within three feet of our table. He flirted with the waitress, waving and smiling, stopping just short of asking for her digits.

These little changes have made all the difference. I love his newfound independence, his patience, his growing inventiveness. I love that he is happy and we are happy... even when we're crazy busy.