Hair Twirling

It is amazing that some things seem to be completely hereditary. I have never seen Casey twirl his hair in the entire 13 years we've been together. Not once. But I know from stories I've heard that when he was younger, Casey used to twirl his hair when he was tired. It just cracks me up to watch Riley sitting in his chair watching baseball at the end of a long day twirling his hair. It's even funnier when he stops twirling his hair and a big clump of hair stands up straight afterwards. My favorite thing is to think of a young Casey looking exactly the same way many years ago...

Early Wake-Up Call

I rarely (ok, almost never) go out with friends on a weeknight (or ever, really) and last night was one of the rare occasions that I did. I was out "late" (which translates to 10:30 p.m.). Of course this was the morning that Riley woke up early because he had a bad dream. Wanting to still get a bit more sleep, and knowing he likely would not go back to bed if I sent him back to his room on his own, I volunteered to go lay with him in his bed. This kid is rarely still, so getting to snuggle up next to him for a little while was a real treat. He pretended to be trying to fall back to sleep for awhile, but gave up and started banging on the bed (he called it "playing the drums"). Then he started giggling. Then, you guessed it, he started talking non-stop about last night's Red Sox game ("Monny, they were AWFUL!") and how he wanted to call David Ross on the phone (where does he come up with this stuff???). At this point, I gave up all hope of falling back to sleep or even just resting. So he decided he wanted to play "haircut" which is something we used to do when he was younger. For the next 20 minutes (at least) we took turns getting our hair washed, cut, combed and blown dry, with each of us getting a lollipop at the end of each haircut (thank you Mt. Tabor Barber Shop for making him believe it is every person's right to get a lollipop after a haircut).

Not quite the quiet start to my day that I'd been hoping for, but an even better one than I'd anticipated.

Hygiene

Most three-year-olds that I know love to take baths, but are luke warm (at best) about showers. Riley, on the other hand, LOVES showers, which is ironic (yes, Casey, I'm sure I'm using that word wrong) considering the fact that he HATED showers for the first few years of his existence. We used to make him shower after a day at the pool and you would've thought we were torturing him. Lots of squirming and screaming and tears. And then a cold, rainy day of "surfing" in Maine happened.

As previously mentioned, Riley, Chase, the dogs and I spent a week alone in Maine this past summer. Riley had recently turned three and Chase was about 6 weeks old. To say that being a single mom for that week was a bit exhausting is an understatement, but being in Maine is absolutely amazing and Casey and I wanted that experience for the boys. Besides, the theory was that I could take Riley, Chase and the dogs to the beach all day and it really wouldn't be that hard -- Riley and the dogs could run free while I supervised them and hung out with Chase. Great theory... until the torrential downpour and chilly temperatures hit one morning. Unwilling to stay inside (and possibly lose my sanity), I put Riley in his wetsuit, Chase in about one hundred layers and bundled myself up in a bright (and I do mean bright) yellow rain slicker that I found in the closet. Turned out to be one of the most memorable days of our trip. The dogs couldn't care less if it's raining -- Wrigley still chased the ball for ours and Winston still sprawled on the ground at my feet. Chase and I (and Winston) sat in the garage snapping a million pictures (my form of sanity). Riley, in his wetsuit, "surfed" for HOURS in the driveway -- on a skim board, a foam board, a stack of boogie boards, whatever he could find. And he had a BALL!!! I have so many fantastic pictures of him from that day that it will forever be etched in my memory.

When he eventually tired of surfing, the five of us went down to the beach -- the dogs off leash, Riley running way ahead, and Chase strapped to my chest in the Baby Bjorn (underneath the bright yellow rain slicker -- he was dry as could be). The dogs swam in the angry surf, Riley and I jumped waves, and Chase (still strapped to my chest warm and dry underneath the rain slicker) slept contentedly. It was awesomely fun. And did I mention COLD???

Which is how we get back to the topic of showers. After a full day in the cold, wet elements, Riley asked if he could take a bath (who could blame him). By this point, I needed to start making dinner, so an immediate bath was out of the question. I suggested a shower instead. He gave me a very skeptical look, but agreed. I put him in the downstairs shower which is immediately adjacent to the kitchen and started boiling the water for dinner. 10 minutes later, the water was boiling but Riley was not ready to get out of the shower (in his defense, this shower, although completely the opposite of fancy, has got to be the most amazing shower in the world -- not sure if it's the water pressure or the hot water compared to the somewhat chilly temperatures outside (the cottage in Maine is not really heated) or a combination of the two or something else entirely). So I put the pasta in the water. 10 minutes later the pasta was ready, but Riley still was not ready to get out of the shower. I swear he was in that shower for what felt like 45 minutes. Who knows, but this is when his love affair with long, hot showers began.

I was reminded of that this morning. For whatever reason, he decided that he wanted to take a shower before school. He won't allow me to stay in the same room as him while he showers anymore -- "I want some privacy" (yes, he really says that) -- so our compromise for safety's sake is that he has to talk to me the entire time. So I spent my morning getting ready for work while Riley narrated the ENTIRE Red Sox game from the previous night by memory. I perhaps know more about David Ross and Will Middlebrooks and Shane Victorino than the average person, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Ideas

I may have mentioned a time or two that Riley REALLY likes to talk. This is especially true when we are eating dinner and he doesn't feel like eating what we've prepared or when he is stalling at bedtime. All of a sudden, in the middle of a completely normal conversation, he will blurt out, "I got a idea!" which is always accompanied by an enormous smile and mischievous look. What follows next varies from day to day, but there is a common theme: his fantastic idea always involves something that he wants or that will benefit him.

Examples from the past few days:

"I got a idea! We could share some of the sweet tarts I got at school for taking a nap." (As an aside, perhaps it's the sweet tarts that typically prevent the nap???)

"I got a idea! We could play baseball on the side porch while we watch the Red Sox on the iPad."

"I got a idea! We could watch baseball on the TV." (Note: he wanted to watch on the TV instead of on the iPad on the side porch because he was banned from using the iPad.)

"I got a idea! We could go the the golf club for dinner and eat mac and cheese and strawberries."

"I got a idea! We could hancel (read: cancel) the rain so that it's sunny outside."

Music

Every so often, Casey and I allow the boys to spend a little time on their own without us hovering over them. Such was the case this morning. I was taking a shower and Casey was drinking a quick cup of coffee. Riley and Chase were in Riley's room with the door shut so that our crazy little man would not be tempted to attempt going down the steps without supervision.

As I emerged from the peacefulness of my shower, I heard a horrible sound coming from Riley's room. Well, not horrible in that something bad was happening, but horrible in that it was tremendously off-key. Upon entering Riley's room, I found Riley and Chase in the closet -- both standing up banging on the keys of the keyboard set up in Riley's closet, Riley singing at the top of his lungs, both boys grinning from ear to ear.

In hindsight, it may very well have been the most precious sound on earth.

Birthday Parties

It seems that turning four is officially a big deal. This is the first year we are having a birthday party for Riley, and it's the first year that many of his friends are having parties too. There are 4 other kids in Riley's class that have May birthdays. Today was the first of the 5 parties. Riley was so excited about picking out a gift for his friend, Grace. When we first asked Riley a few weeks ago what he wanted to get her for her birthday, I was not all that surprised when he said "a fire truck". After all, it is one of Riley's favorite things. However, when we went out to actually buy a present for Grace, we asked him again what he wanted to get her. This time his response was "a princess". Grace is a sweet but rowdy girl that definitely can hold her own with the boys, so Casey and I were sort of surprised by this choice. When we arrived at the party, the entire theme was princesses. When we were telling Grace's mom the story of picking out a gift, we laughed as we told her his first response had been a fire truck. Her reply, "Grace LOVES fire trucks." It seems that our boy has already grasped the art of listening to what girls want -- he knew the exact two gifts that would've made her day.

Olive

The first time I ever heard of Olive was way back in September when we were vacationing in Maine. We were at the back bay one morning. Riley, Casey and the dogs were walking around in the marsh while Chase and I stayed back on the sand so Chase could drink his bottle. When they came back from their adventure, Winston and Wrigley had been renamed Wilson and Olive. They retained those names for our entire stay in Maine. Not long after we returned, I saw the roster of names for the kids in Riley's class. On it were Wilson and Olive. It all made sense.

I didn't hear Olive's name again until mid-October. By then, the renaming of the dogs was a distant memory in my newborn-induced fog. It was during this time that Chase learned how to put himself to sleep and I had more time to spend with Riley before his bedtime. The two of us would lay in his bed with the lights off and stare at the ceiling. Sometimes we'd pretend we were watching fireworks -- pointing to different spots on the ceiling and talking about what color we saw and if it was big or small. Other times, he just wanted to talk, and somehow in that uninterrupted setting in his dark room, he started really talking to me about things that were on his mind. Sometimes it was questions about things he'd seen and didn't understand. ("Monny, why is Uncle Scar mean? Why did he hurt Simba's daddy? Did he killed him? Why did it make Simba sad?") Sometimes it would be silly stories that he'd made up. All of those conversations were precious to me. And then one night out of the blue he looked at my feet and said, "Monny, I like you shoes. Olive has shoes like yours." And with those ten words, I knew his life had changed. He had his first crush. So I asked him if he'd tell me more about Olive. He replied, "Olive is a princess." So I asked who the prince was. "Riley." (Big grin.) He then proceeded to tell me, "Monny, Olive likes dresses. She likes dresses with stripes. We match." (Immediately, a light bulb went off in my head: so THIS is why he had insisted on wearing exclusively stripes to school for the past few weeks. Prior to that, he had never voiced an opinion about his wardrobe.) Is it weird to admit that for a minute I was almost jealous of little 3-year-old Olive? I had Riley point her out to me the next day at school when I dropped him off, and I actually eyed her to make sure she was good enough for my baby. I wonder if this is how Casey's mom felt about me 13 years ago...

After October, all we heard about for months was Olive. His teachers also noticed the budding romance and said that they were always holding hands and sitting next to each other. Riley would get nervous walking down the hallway to his classroom when I dropped him off each morning. I had no idea you could get butterflies in your stomach at 3. It was adorable.

In November, I did what every good mom would do: I emailed Olive's mom and coordinated their first date. We met up with Olive, her parents and her little brother (who coincidentally is very close in age to Chase) at the park. It was so cute how excited Riley was in the week leading up to this date. We could've gotten him to do just about anything by threatening to cancel his playdate (I made a mental note to remember this down the road).

In their Christmas program, Riley and Olive had to be next to each other on stage. I was able to get a pretty good picture of them - both reindeer - and Santa framed it for him and left it in his stocking for him to open on Christmas morning. One of my few successes as a mom. He grinned from ear to ear when he came to show Casey and me what Santa had left.

Riley and Olive broke up sometime in January. He started to talk about her less. Casey and I would ask him about her sometimes and he didn't have much to say. Finally Casey ended up asking him if he and Olive had broken up. He shrugged and then said something like, "I'm just hanging out with the boys in my class."

I'm not exactly sure what happened to their romance, but as it turned out, Casey and I really liked Olive's parents and were sort of crushed when it was over. Luckily, they are now friends again and we had Olive and her family over for dinner, drinks and play time today. It was a lot of fun. I do hope that someday, when we do meet Riley's future in-laws, we like them as much as we liked the first candidates.