Bonding

Look carefully at the picture and you will notice a small face in the upper right hand window.

That is Grant and he is blowing kisses to me as I pull out of the driveway and head to work.  And it is so stinkin' cute.  Grant is definitely in that adorable zone.

Without a doubt I am getting cooler and cooler with Grant.  He cuddles with me, asks for me to tuck him in, and gives me unsolicited, "I love yous".  And if I am mowing then I always have a helper helping me push back and forth on the lawn.

It's nice to have my son looking up to me for fun, acknowledgement, confidence, and bonding.  That's what it is right?  We are bonding.  And I love it.

Yesterday, Grant took off the training wheels on his bike for the first time and pedaled for three whole seconds without me holding him.  He trusts me because the day prior he steadfastly announced he was n-e-v-e-r going to take off the training wheels. My hope is that we can extend that trust to the swimming pool this summer.

Because I am his new buddy, Grant is very cognizant of when I leave for work and always stops me for a hug and a kiss.  I cannot leave without it.  A few weeks ago I left very, very early in the morning.  The garage door must have woken Grant up because as I pulled away I saw the front door flung open with a half naked four year old, tears streaming down his eyes, running, yelling, "HUG!" He was immediately followed by a half naked 44 year old trying to catch him.

Grant said to me today, "I'll give you a hug and kiss now.  I'll be in the window, blowing kisses.  Waiting.  (pause for effect) Patiently."

So.

Stinkin'.

Cute.

Man Down, Man Down!

Grant was sent home early from Johnson Pond yesterday because he was throwing up. 

Grant spit up a lot as a baby.  A LOT.  Poor Lisa would get him in one outfit, sit him up, and then immedaitely have to change it.  Grant would projectile just enough to get it all over him - and sometimes on whoever was holding him.  Usually Lisa who then had to change her outfit too.  Once he hit his toddler years he stopped and then rarely - if ever puked.

Yesterday might have been the second time in memory that he truly could not keep anything down.  Not rice, not juice, not even water.  Lisa got the call and picked him up while I was at the University of Richmond on an inspection of their ROTC program.  By the time I got home Grant was sprawled out on a blanket, barf bucket next to his head.

That poor guy was curled up with absolutely zero enegy in the tank.  I lay down with him and we watched WALL-E and he fell asleep.  He kept on sleeping so I replayed half  the movie again. 

When Grant got up he was thirsty.  Fifteen minutes later water stayed down.  An hour later Pedialyte stayed down.  Some banana stayed down after that.  His energy was at half a tank as he played walkie-talkies with his brother.  Thankfully he hadn't napped through bedtime and he was asleep by 9:00pm.

At 5:55 he was on.  The mischeivous grin was back.

That's our boy.

 

Getting To The Sweet Spot

Grant Robert is four years old.
TJ is almost eight.
Lisa and I are young in mind and spirit and try to keep the body young as well.

The children are no longer toddlers who require diaper changing, feeding, or constant supervision.  They can dress themselves if we leave their clothes out for them.  They can ride bikes, play video games, and get from our house to Grandma's house all on their own.  They are boys now.  They fight and wrestle and hug and adore each other - all in the same moment.  They still listen (for the most part) to mom and dad and willingly demonstrate their love of us.  Grant still gives hugs and kisses and watches you leave from the window when you leave.  TJ is not opposed to holding dad's hand once in a while - not yet, at least.

The boys bring with them all of the fun and aggravation that Andy and I must have brought to our parents.  TJ is now allowed to go out on his own - without his little brother - to find his friends in the neighborhood.  It's nice to have him get on his bike and disappear to Austin's, or Owen's, or Nicholas' house.  And not disappear in a bad way - but in a way that allows him some earned freedom without us hovering over him.  It's not "free range" parenting, but it's close.  Soon enough - once the training wheels come off of Grant's bike, the two of them will be off for the afternoon - coming home at dinner time or when the sun comes down. 

And - oh - how I hope for that for them because it was what I remember from my youth.  The summer days lasted forever and were filled with adventure and missions, scrapes and scratches, sweat and pond water; and all our parents had to do was open the front door, call our names, and we headed home.

We are entering into that sweet spot where they are self sufficient enough to do somethings on their own but not so self sufficient they don't want us around.  I know those days are on the far horizon.  Those days where we are no longer cool enough to want to be seen with.  Where family vacations involve adolescents who prefer to be independent.

For now we can go on a bike ride or head to the beach or go hiking.  The opportunities are expanding.

I am enjoying this part of life.