RM at Age Two

It's almost gone.

The year of the TWO year old.

My first one. It's a year of toddlerhood that is not unlike the month of March: In like a lion, out like a lamb.

Some of you know I can be an anxious person. Once I was even called the 'emotional barometer' for our family when I was growing up. Probably something about being the middle child of the five kids. So, the anxiety of TWO YEARS OLD made me fixate on the "terribleness" that everyone warns you about. But now that we are about to say goodbye to this year, mostly all that I see is the tenderness and terrificness of his being two.

In some ways I thought I would inevitably worry about each new year... but that concern I have becomes increasingly less about his behavior vs. how I respond, and more about how he will see the world, and what will influence him, and what kind of person he will be. All of that is held so delicately in our influence as parents. The responsibility is washing over me anew. Kind of like when they send you away from the hospital with the newborn - but now that newborn has transformed into a boy, and his world increasing rapidly.

There are times that I want to be the fierce momma bear protecting him. Like when the drunk motorcycle chick decides to give him a huge hug at a public place. I just about clawed her eyes out for touching my child. I also want to be the mother bird who is pushing him just over the edge so that he can know the amazing feeling of flight. Like when I coax him to jump into the pool to me. Or give him the much needed encouragement on a big slide. Or let go of the back of the bike.

I'm also realizing the depth of his little sponge-like brain. Counting to twenty. Telling friends his name is Red Gibbs. Spelled R-E-D. And that his daddy is Will Gibbs and his momma is Danielle Gibbs. Telling me which item is bigger and which is the smallest. Matching colors from two different objects and explaining things that match something he has seen somewhere else once before. He wants to walk and visit neighbors. Ask them what they are doing. Why they are doing it. Inviting himself in for a visit. I think he's becoming known as the Mayor of Bradley Boulevard.

What I am seeing is the grand entrance into THREE. It is very exciting to watch these new horizons and enjoy this world with him.

Unfortunately, that doesn't mean that the difficulty of discipline has been vanquished. And it's just surfacing strongly with Buggle too. Aye! No rest for the next few years, i suppose! :)

i'm still alive

i'm still alive. in fact, i have three "Draft" posts that are unfinished. But so goes my life right now. i'm just kind of wondering whether or not my now private blog still gets checked. hmmm. we'll see.
I guess i could bait any potential viewers with this photo. First ever shooting range experience. hmm.

Priorities for the Bug right now. Wearing bracelets. Playing chase. Avoiding the vacuum. Trying on shoes. Reading books. Talking on the phone. So girlie!!

hmmm.

so, about once every quarter (yes, four times a year or thereabouts) Floyd decides to find related domestic items that might have disappeared into the deep abyss of his vehicle. I don't know where the abyss is, only that it must be hard to access because of the infrequent nature of these 'domestic eruptions' that take place. I'm wondering where the five coffee cups have been, and Ta'Da! They suddenly reappear... after what appears to have been a long, dirty journey. Any of you relate?

the Buggle looked FAT to me one day this week. you know, when your child is growing so rapidly that one day they look long and thin, but the next week you notice a pudginess that wasn't there before... anyway, she looked down right fat. Maybe it was the fact that she had guzzled somewhere around 5 eight ounce bottles that day, and was eating more at the 'square meals' than her brother. hot-dog? sure. baked beans? no problem. apple slices? bring 'em on. chips, water, more hot-dog, more beans, more apples... she was a vacuum. it was awesome.

RM is on steriods again. i think the pediatricians are ready to start calling a spade a spade. and by spade, yes, i mean ASTHMA. but before i get any long-range information about how to handle this going forward, of course we have to address the O2 saturation with albuterol and ---wait for it--- ORAPRED. you might be reading between the lines and understanding this means some very sleepless nights, as well as one jacked-up little boy. he was BOUNCING when he woke up this morning. And then, instead of napping for the sitters? He stripped a queen-sized bed and plucked a feather pillow. Move him to the pack'n'play in a closet, you say? Ahh, all the better to take every article of clothing off the hanger. I think this is supposed to make me a more praying person.

me? i'm just facing the August Recess head on, and planning a busy season for the 'in state work period' for an election year. just because we enjoy a 42 point lead in the polls doesn't mean i'm filing my nails at my desk. we like to keep the momentum going, if you know what i mean.

ps - JH, III is still summering in the mountains.

pps - a downpour just started. it sounds amazing. summer shower, at night. Ahh, i love it.