Hug Twice

Last week, I was driving with the kids and on the entrance ramp to the highway, traffic slowed to a virtual halt.  there was an accident up ahead, not that I had known that when I chose to go on the highway, and from the entrance ramp there wasn’t much I could do about it.  We were putting along slowly, barely moving, when i hear CJ pipe up from the backseat “Look!  There’s the other house!”.

And as I looked over to the right, I realized we were passing the apartment complex we used to live in.  We pass it several times a month, and you can clearly see it from the highway, but we’re usually moving too quickly for CJ to notice I guess.  But the thing is - I had no idea he really remembered the apartment at all - we moved a bit before his third birthday.  And, for that matter, I can’t believe he recognizes it from the highway view.

He then told me about how he and Daddy played outside there and threw a ball and all about the geese and the pond and the walks they used to take there.  In fact, he did remember, quite clearly, living there and playing there.  I asked him if we wanted to go back and see it and he said no, it was too far away.  He seemed happy to go back to our house.

But still it amazes me how much he remembers about things that happened close to two years ago now.

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Matt just purchased a Playstation 3 a week or so ago.  He had been saving for it for over a year, and my parents gave him the money for the rest to finally purchase the system.

CJ is totally enamored with it.  We have a game that is small child appropriate that we let him play, and that is all he wants to do.  Of course, that isn’t all he gets to do, and he has limited and structured amounts of time he can play.  But that doesn’t stop him from hoping.

Last Thursday, I told him to get ready to go to T-Ball.  He told me he was sick and couldn’t go.  I said if he was too sick to go to T-Ball, he was too sick to play the “black game” (what he calls the Playstation 3 because the console is black).

He got ready to go and got himself in the car.  And never another word about being sick again.

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A few days ago, I had Alexa dressed in a shirt and matching skirt set.  Not super dressy, but of course, a skirt is inherently more dressed up than the usual jeans and tshirt (or at least, I think so).  When we were going to go outside, I grabbed her socks and sneakers and sat her down to put them on her.

She threw an absolute FIT.  Screeching, crying, kicking her feet, and shouting NONANOOOOONONONAAAAAA as loudly as she could.  Then she toddled off as fast as her little feet could take her.  I figured she’d just have to get her shoes on in the car, and packed them in the diaper bag as I finished getting things ready.

At that point, she toddled back into the room holding her black patent leather shoes.  Which she calmly let me put onto her feet.

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My parents visited us for the past week, and my mom pointed out to me what she affectionately called “The Alexa Alarm”.   Now that it has been pointed out to me, it is so obvious, but it is such a part of her willful personality that I hadn’t fully noticed it before.

When something doesn’t go Alexa’s way, she lets out a squawk.  If the squawk is not duly recognized and attended to, it raises in pitch.  Again.  And again.  Until someone takes notice and fixes her plight, real or imagined.

It’s cute.  Sort of.  I guess she really does have her share of ingrained princess.

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CJ has soccer on Mondays and Wednesdays, and T-Ball on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  All they really have in common is that there is a lot of dirt on the ground (a bit less at soccer), and CJ endlessly plays with it instead of paying attention.

In fact, at soccer there are only patches of dirt amongst the grass, and he will seek these patches out and kick them around.

Last week at T-Ball, CJ was kicking dirt so much that the coach told him to stop, and then had to physically pick him up to trya and make him stop.  CJ’s legs never stopped kicking.  His feet were off the ground, and he just continued to kick and giggle.  I had to go out on the field and lay out consequences for him to get him to stop.

Yes, that’s my kid.  The one so blatantly ignoring instructions he’s kicking air rather than follow directions. 

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