Chick Magnet?

This morning when I dropped Riley off at school, he almost immediately walked up to one of his friends and asked her if she wanted to see his boo boo. She answered, "Yes, I do want to see it." His teacher looked at me and we both had a quick laugh about how cute the conversation was. As Riley explained how he got his boo boo at the baseball game, his teacher explained to me how he is "all boy." She then proceeded to tell me that I better watch out when he is a teenager. Thinking she was talking about him being obsessed with sports, I agreed. However, she then went on to explain that she thinks the girls are going to flock to him. She said, "Not only is he so handsome, but he's also clearly going to be an athlete. But the best thing of all is that he's sweet too." Of course, I couldn't agree more, but it made my heart swell with pride to hear his teacher acknowledge the special qualities that make him him. But now, after having all day to reflect on her comments, I am struck by two thoughts: uh oh (we really will be in trouble when he is a teenager) and oh no (someday some other girl will steal his heart and replace me as the most important woman in his life). I am prepared for neither...

Sunday Busy Sunday

Like most weekend days, today was a busy one. Can't complain. We try to devote as much of our weekend to fun time for Riley as possible since we don't spend nearly as much time with him during the week as we'd like. The day started out with our normal trip to the bagel place (Riley insists on a "special toast bagel" (large bagel coated in mass quantities of cinnamon and sugar) in his own bag). Sadly, we are such regulars at The Bagel Station on the weekends that they know his order before he even places it. Then we drive across the street to Starbucks for some coffee and to eat our bagels. We pass by a used book store on the way (one which only bought about 5 of our two laundry baskets full of books). Riley must have a vivid memory of Casey getting mad that they didn't buy more because each time we pass the book store he asks, "Daddy, are you still mad at them?" After finishing our bagels, we walked with the dogs over to the park, played soccer on the "soccer field" (otherwise know as the bocce courts), used the lacrosse stick to throw the ball for Wrigley, hit "laser shows" on the "baseball field" (a different bocce court), spent some time on the big boy swing (no more baby swing for this kid), played in the boat (slide/play area designed to sort of resemble a boat) and then walked back to our car. We arrived home at 10:40 and had to divide and conquer in order to get ready for his friend Grace's birthday party at 11:00 (incidentally, the way to Riley's heart is to send him some mail - he was so excited to get the party invitation in the mail that he actually gasped before grinning from ear to ear and clapping). We spent the rest of the morning at Grace's wonderfully non-overdone and very relaxed, fun birthday party where, I should note, Riley was the only little boy invited (except for the baby brother of one of Grace's friends). Apparently Grace kept asking her parents if she could invite Riley and they finally gave in (I should note here that Riley before, in spite of knowing her first and last name very well, has referred to her as Gracie Otis - uh oh). Anyway, he had a blast and was worn out by the time we left. We came home for nap time which consisted of Casey running around town trying to pick out suitable tile for our bathroom floors and me trying to go through the insane amounts of baby clothes to semi prepare the guest room for its transition to the nursery. Three hours later, Casey had returned with the tile and had treated the yard with something that will hopefully get the weeds in our front yard under control, while I managed to get at least a decent start on the nursery preparations. Time to wake Riley up from his nap so that we could leave in time to make it to the Western Carolina vs Elon college baseball game which our former neighbor, Connor, was playing in. In spite of the 45 minute drive to get to the game, Riley was super excited, randomly shouting, "Let's go Connor" from the back seat. When we arrived at the game and started walking towards the stadium he kept repeating, "I'm excited!!!" Guess the trip to the game was a good decision. After we paid, he cried when I told him he had to use the potty before we could watch the game. After using the bathroom, he practically ran to the stands where he promptly sat down in the first seat we encountered. He stared intently for quite awhile until Connor's family came to talk to us between innings. From that point forward, Riley became Connor's 8-year-old brother's shadow. He thinks Whit is the coolest kid ever. Fortunately Whit is an active little guy too and was perfectly content to play catch (if you can call it that) with Riley for the next hour or two. Eventually Connor and Whit's other brother (Ty) joined in too and pitched for Riley so he could hit some laser shows. I do not think he could have enjoyed himself more. He talked all the way home about being a baseball player and playing with the big boys. By the time we got home, it was almost 9:30 (a full two hours after bedtime) and we were all exhausted. Just a typical Sunday...

Singing

One thing I love about Riley is that he's not afraid to sing. Sometimes it's a song I know, sometimes it's one that he's making up on the fly. Typically you know the song is over because he either tells you to clap or sings without missing a beat and without any sort of transition, "the end of the song...". Sometimes you really have to be paying attention. Today, as I was in my closet picking out something to wear, he spotted Casey's old guitar and started strumming it and singing, "I love my mommy... and my daddy... and Winnie... and Wrigley." which of course made me stop and smile. Before I knew it, he was ordering me to sit down. Casey then came into the bedroom to see what was taking so long and Riley commanded him to sit down next to Mommy. Before we knew it, we were being treated to a concert, us sitting on the steps in my closet, him standing on the floor below. First the "I love my mommy and my daddy" song. Then "Itsy Bitsy Spider." I could've sat there all day. He may be off tune, and he may not be Jimi Hendrix, but with that killer smile, those goofy dance moves and his crazy "just got out of bed" hair, he gives one heck of a concert.

Breakfast

One of my favorite times of day is breakfast time. Not much beats the 20 or so minutes of uninterrupted quality time I get with Riley. The nice thing is that given The choice between eating at home with me and eating at school with his friends, he will still choose me about 99% of the time. I know the day will come (and probably not too long from now) when he chooses his friends over me most all of the time, so for that reason, I treat breakfast with Riley as the sacred event that it is. If my phone rings, I ignore it. No checking email, no reading the news. No tv. Just me and my little man (well, and the dogs too). We talk about whatever is on his mind. We talk about what he's going to do at school that day. We talk about whatever it is that I know he's learning at school that week. We practice his letters and numbers. We sing songs. He has transitioned over time from spilling most of what he's trying to spoon into his mouth to getting upset if a single piece dropped (although now he has realized that Wrigley likes it when he drops a few pieces, so he "accidentally" spills a few now). He has gone from having to ask me to help him get the last few pieces in the bowl to grinning widely and saying, "See?!?!" and tilting his bowl over slightly to show me has finished very last piece by himself. Now he gets the box of Cheerios, his bowl and spoon and even pours his own cereal and milk (with close supervision - he gets the concept of pouring but not so much the concept of stopping). He has grown up before my eyes a little bit every morning and I will gladly be a little later than I should be for work to share these simple little moments with just him. Even after breakfast is over and I get up to clean up our dishes, I still love to take my time. Wrigley likes to lay under the breakfast table (no doubt to catch the accidental spills) and Riley calls it her bedroom. he likes to climb down from his chair and hang out with her in her bedroom while I clean up. And each and every time I come back into the room, he is snuggling with her and they both look up at me like, "What?" and then Riley asks me to take their picture. Still have yet to get a good one that captures the sweetness of the moment, but this will at least give you an idea.

That Makes You Happy?

Riley asks me this every time he does something that he knows is good. He says it in the sweetest voice and it just about always makes me want to cry. Today, when I picked him up from school, he did something so kind that I actually did cry. His teacher did too. When I walked up to his classroom door, he was one of three children still in the room (the rest have good mommies and daddies who come to retrieve them earlier). Each of the children had his own balloon. Anyone with kids probably knows that balloons are a sacred item and it is a super big deal to be allowed to play with one, especially at school. One of the other children in the room was his friend Luke ("Lukie" as Riley refers to him). Luke's balloon met an untimely death a few minutes after I arrived, and knowing from experience with Riley just how traumatizing this can be, I was not surprised to see Luke break down in tears. We left shortly after with Riley explaining to me that Lukie had popped his balloon and was sad. After we were out of sight and out of earshot, I asked Riley if he wanted to share his balloon with Lukie because he was sad. He looked at me and said he wanted to take his balloon home to "show Daady". I told him that was fine and that it was his choice since it was his balloon. I could see him consider this and then start walking. We took one step and then Riley announced that he wanted to share his prized balloon with Lukie. He turned around, walked back to his classroom, opened the door, walked straight up to Luke and handed him his balloon and said he wanted to share it. For an almost three year old, it was probably the kindest and most heartfelt gesture I have every witnessed, and I was so proud to know it was my son on the giving end of such a gesture. I hope I can capture the image of him extending his arms with ballon in hand in my mind forever. All the way home he told me that he had made Lukie happy. I asked him how it made him feel and he said it made him feel happy too. I told him that I was proud of him and he said he was proud of himself and that Miss Vanessa and Daddy and Wrigley and Winnie were proud of him too. And I'm quite certain that they were.

Baseball

Riley, it seems, is addicted to baseball. Truth be told, he's addicted to most sports, and is happiest when playing just about anything that involves a ball. Part of me blames Wrigley for this, part of me attributes it to the fact that we did not let Riley watch TV for the first 2-1/2 years of his life and therefore spent much of our time outside playing, and part of me thinks it's just genetics. Apparently Casey was quite obsessed with baseball growing up too (not that he's really outgrown that much - have I mentioned that he wants his dad to paint a replica of the Green Monster in our "man cave"?). But still, Riley is obsessed. He knows the words to "Take Me Out to the Ballgame." He will sit still (a small miracle in itself) and actually watch a baseball game. He knows the name to all of the local teams: the Dash (minor league team), the Deacons (Wake Forest's team) and the Demons (the high school team). He will gladly watch any of them play. He seems to follow the concepts - knowing which team has the "bad guys" and which is the good guys. But the best part of all is watching him play baseball in the back yard. He wants to play every night after he gets home from school and will sometimes actually cry when it's time to eat dinner because he doesn't want to come inside. Casey (fortunately or unfortunately, I can't decide which) has coached him to say "Laser Show" each and every time he makes contact with the ball. He has also taught him who Dustin Pedroia is. It's pretty funny, although I'm sure our neighbors are really sick of hearing "Laser Show" over and over, night after night. I guess that's a good sign though, in terms of how much he actually makes contact with the ball. I confess that I don't know much about what almost-three-year-old boys are capable of, but I think it's pretty impressive that at least 75% of the time, he actually hits the ball... which is being pitched to him (no tee for this kid anymore - he gave that up a few months ago). Throwing is equally impressive, although we still have yet to determine whether he is right or left handed. So, as a reward for being completely potty trained (yes, he even wears underwear at night and stays dry), we bought him a baseball glove. And then proceeded to buy him a baseball glove for his other hand later that week when we decided maybe we had guessed wrong about which hand he should be throwing with - very confusing. He seems to rotate between the two gloves, so who really knows. No matter, we're just banking on his career in MLB to get us through the retirement years. Sample video of his batting prowess to come soon.

It's Our Birthday

May 1st already, how is that even possible? I noticed when I logged in the my last post is from January, a fact of which I am not terribly proud. What can I say, it has been a busy year, although that really is no excuse. I should start out by acknowledging the obvious. Not once has the new baby been mentioned on this blog. I promise that is no reflection on our excitement level. We are thrilled to be adding another member to our family, and the fact that we are going to be welcoming another little boy is awesome. Perhaps we are biased, but I cannot imagine that there is a better thing in this world than a son. You will get a sense of why I think this when reading through this month's posts. A few things about the new baby. First, after past experiences, there has been a whole lot of fear and paranoia during the early phases of my pregnancy. Losing a baby is an awful experience in general, and we were so sad to suffer through the miscarriage before Riley. But, at least to me, losing a baby after you have a child and know just how much they bring to your life, well, it was devastating. The cancer scare that came with it may have ultimately been a blessing because I could focus my attention on the tests instead of dwelling on the loss. Truthfully though, the loss and resulting "what if's" may very well explain why we have been procrastinating all of the things we had already done at this point during my pregnancy with Riley - choosing a name, decorating the nursery, packing my hospital bag, installing the infant car seat. Or maybe it's just the second baby syndrome that everyone refers to (I hope not). Second, although Riley has been told that he's going to have a baby brother, I'm not sure he really fully grasps the concept (which may be a good thing). He'll do sweet things like try to feed a banana to my belly. He's chosen a name: Alice (I should note here that Alice is the name of the lunch lady at school - see past posts regarding his rocking horse and most other inanimate objects that he has named Alice - she clearly has made an impression). Today as we were driving home from school, we past a woman holding a baby and he said, "Hi cute baby!" and then proceeded to tell me that he likes babies. These things make me optimistic about him welcoming his baby brother in July. Riley is such a sweet little guy that I have no doubt he'll be a wonderful big brother, at least after the shock of it all wears off. Finally, this is likely the last post in which I will mention the baby until June. This is Riley's birthday month, and for the last two years, I have devoted the month to writing posts about what it is that makes him so special. Especially during this, his last birthday month without sharing the spotlight with someone else, he deserves some special attention. So I will start out the month of May with a quick example of what a kind soul Riley is. Wrigley, for reasons we can't really understand, seems to be getting nervous of loud or unexplained noises. She hates thunder and will hide in the bathtub any time it storms. She also dislikes being in the yard lately (which is quite odd considering how much she lives to play ball), which we have attributed to barking from neighbors' dogs that she cannot see due to the privacy of our yard. So now, when Wrigley is inside moping, Riley will come inside, bend down so that he's eye to eye with her and say, "Sweetheart, you ok?" And then he'll give her a hug and a kiss. It is so sweet and so kind that it makes me want to cry each and every time he does it. Speaking of Riley and Wrigley, they are hilarious to watch together. Often, during our walks, the two of them will run ahead of Casey, Winston and me. Just watching them makes you smile because you can tell that they are going to get into trouble together. Wrigley loves to roll in the grass, especially during the spring, and especially in our new neighborhood where it seems that everyone's lawn is immaculate, almost carpet-like (in fact, Riley calls one neighbor's yard his baseball field and insists that no one walk on it except him). But I digress. The funny thing is that Riley seems to have taken to this idea, so on most nights, you will find Wrigley and Riley in a random yard rolling around in the grass together. I hope neither of them ever outgrows this...