Ah, the Funk is Coming . . .

I knew this day was coming, but I didn't realize it would come so soon.  I've heard tales of other children who, around this age, refused to wear anything except the superman costume, or the same shirt over and over again.  For the longest, I didn't think it would affect Sammy, but boy has it come in droves!

It has also come at the same time as another age appropriate milestone - the era of pretend and make-believe.  I've been noticing this for awhile now . . . This weekend, Sammy wanted to go outside and climb the trees in the backyard, but he didn't want to do it unless he was wearing his monkey costume.  Thank goodness it still fits him from his 18 month old Halloween!  He spent hours and hours in his monkey costume, driving his monster truck all over the backyard and climbing the crepe myrtles.  I wish I could have gotten a picture, but my camera charger has been hiding in my brother's truck since we went to the prom last month.  Maybe he'll do it again soon.

His newest pretend game is that he is a fireman.  Yesterday we were at Target, where I purchased a pair of rain boots for Sammy.  The rain boots are for a playdate we are having next week at our friend Travis's country house.  The kids are going to tromp through the forest, collect bugs, and play in the mud.  I've been looking for rain boots for awhile, and was lucky to find a pair that fit Sammy at Target.  So lucky, in fact, that it wouldn't have mattered to me if they were Hello Kitty boots.  Unfortunately, they weren't.  They were fireman boots.  They're black, with the fire department symbol on the front.

Sammy is obsessed with them.  He has not taken them off since I bought them.  You think I'm joking, but I'm not.  As soon as we got to the car, he insisted I take the tags off, and immediately removed his Woody boots and put on the fireman rain boots.  We got home, it was time for him to take a nap, and yet he ran up to his room to grab his fireman hat and insisted on taking a nap in his boots and hat.  As a matter of fact, the ONLY time Sammy has removed the fireman boots from his feet was when he took a bath, and when he came down to our room at 3 am to get in our bed with us.  Mike had told him before he went to sleep in his fireman boots that he wasn't allowed in our bed with them on. 

Sammy removed his fireman boots at the foot of our bed.  As soon as he woke up this morning, the boots went back onto his feet.  Along with his fireman socks.  I'm not sure why these socks, specifically, are fireman socks, however they are gray, and have red toes and heel sections.  Perhaps it's the color?

I'm slightly concerned about the obsession with the fireman boots.  My concern is growing even more, as my friend Elle has a fireman rain slicker in a size 3T that she has graciously offered to give to us.  While I'm excited to encourage Sammy's pretend and dramatic play, I'm also having nightmares about him running around for the next month in his fireman boots, socks, hat, and the rain slicker.  I will be the laughingstock of the neighborhood. 

I guess it could be worse . . . he could want to wear a blue superman costume, or worse he might want to dress up as Tinkerbell.  I should be happy that it's a fireman dream, right?  Right? 

I promise to post a picture of Sammy in full fireman gear soon.  That is, if the smell of his fireman socks doesn't knock me to my knees, considering that he's been wearing them for two full days now . . .

Swim Lessons

Today, Sammy had his third swim lesson at the Y.  Like I said before, it's getting better all the time.  Which is a huge jump from his first day.  His first day at swim lessons, Sammy got in trouble.

Sammy's teacher's name is Miss Denise.  I like Miss Denise.  She doesn't put up with any crap from Sammy, or anyone else.  On Sammy's first day of swim lessons, which was last Tuesday, he got a rude awakening.

Miss Denise is tough.  When it's not your turn to swim, she allows you to sit on the steps in the shallow end, but you have to keep your hand on the side of the pool.  Sammy didn't want to keep his hand on the side of the pool.  Therefore, Miss Denise made him sit outside the pool.

Every time it wasn't Sammy's turn to swim, Miss Denise let him try to sit on the steps in the shallow end.  And every time, Sammy took his hand off the side of the pool.  Sammy spent a lot of time sitting outside the pool his first day.  He didn't miss out on his turn to swim, it's just that he had to sit outside the pool, and everyone else got to sit inside the pool.  I think he was a bit cold.

After the end of his first lesson, Miss Denise came to me and said, "I'm sorry he had to sit out so much, but it's a safety issue."  I smiled and said, "I totally agree and completely support you."  I think Sammy listened.  Either that or else he realized Miss Denise means what she says.

Since then, when it's not his turn, Sammy's hands are GLUED to the side of the pool.  He has not had to sit out since that first day.  Granted, we're only on the third lesson, but either way, I think he got it.

As many of you know, I've been conflicted about whether to put Sammy into preschool this next year.  While he doesn't need it academically, my main concern lies in how he will do discipline-wise once he gets to kindergarten.  Swimming lessons has cemented my thoughts . . . I believe Sammy will do just fine in kindergarten.

That being said, when I do register Sammy for kindergarten at Katy Elementary next spring, I'm going to schedule a conference with his principal.  Sammy does not need the sweet, brand-new kindergarten teacher.  He needs the seasoned veteran who won't put up with his tricks.  Yes, he'll have a tough first day. He might even have a tough first week.  But either way, when his future kindergarten teacher shows him that she means what she says, I think he'll have a great year.  Just like he's having a great time in swim lessons with Miss Denise.

Speaking of, do you think Miss Denise will come to my house and tell Sammy to eat his dinner?  Take a bath?  Clean his room?  I think I need a Miss Denise mask . . .

Nasty Cat

When we graduated from college, Mike bought me a combo birthday present/college graduation gift.  We got a blue point himalayan cat.  We named him Bailey, although we called him MISTER Bailey, as his regalness and grace demanded it.  Over the years, Mr. Bailey has been a colorful member of our household.  However, last year, Mr. Bailey went to live with a former coworker of mine, Cheryl.  My allergies had finally gotten the best of me, and Mr. Bailey found a new owner to love.

Mr. Bailey did not like old people.  He used to chase after my Grandma Gant and swat at her when she walked by.  He also did not like children - although I think that may have been related to the fact that our nieces and nephews terrorized him when we first got him. 

One of Mr. Bailey's most . . . endearing . . . qualities was his shedding.  It didn't matter how much you brushed him, Mr. Bailey shed.  He would leave random hairballs all over the house.  Mike was not too fond of Mr. Bailey's shedding.  He had a more colorful word for Mr. Bailey, but when I pointed out that Sammy might start picking up his words, he changed it to a simple "Nasty Cat."  When we would get home and Mike found a hairball on the couch, Mike would yell "Nasty Cat!"  When we would get home and Bailey had shed on Mike's pillow, Mike would yell "Nasty Cat!"  I'd like to think it was a term of endearment, but honestly maybe it wasn't.

Either way, Sammy picked up Mr. Bailey's nickname.  Anytime he saw something that remotely resembled a hairball, he would yell "Nasty Cat!" as well.  This would include spider webs.  Many a spider web has been mistakenly called "Nasty Cat" by Sammy.  But it also meant actual balls of hair - including those taken from my own hair brush. 

When we were at the obstetrician for my 30 week appointment while I was pregnant with Sophia, Sammy was crawling around on the floor.  I kept telling Mike to pick him up, that I thought it was totally nasty that he was crawling around on the floor of the OBGYN's office. But it wasn't until Sammy looked under the examining table and announced "OOOOOHHHH, Nasty Cat went to the DOCTOR!" that Mike actually thought it might be a good idea to pick him up.  This, of course, was after Mike announced that he hoped it wasn't a black cat that had gone to the doctor.

It's been almost a year now since Mr. Bailey has gone to live with Cheryl, Mommy's friend.  Yet, Sammy still talks about Nasty Cat.  We have a walk-in attic area off our game room that has insulation inside of it, and Sammy calls it the Nasty Cat room.  I'm sure you can picture the resemblance. 

So, today, Sammy was sitting in my lap, getting ready for bed, and he turned to look at me.  He had such a sweet expression on his face, and a big smile, and then, he dropped his bombshell.  He looked at me and said, "Mommy, your hair looks like Nasty Cat."  Seriously? 

Thank you so much, baby - that is awesome!  I think that is probably the best compliment I've ever received.  At least Daddy and Sophia think Mommy is pretty . . .

Pirates and Scalawags

Recently, we have started a new tradition in our household.  It's really quite simple - every day at dinner we ask one another what the best part of our days were.  It's been amazing to hear from one another what types of simple things make our days.

For example, several weeks back we had a really big day.  We'd gone to an indoor inflatable play area, then eaten at McDonald's for lunch, then gone to the Y for me to work out and Sammy to play.  When we got home, he was hungry, so I helped him to make his very own peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  That night, while eating dinner, Sammy shared that the best part of his day was making his PB&J.  Isn't that amazing?  Of all the fun and elaborate plans I'd made for the day, the best and most memorable part for Sammy was making a PB&J.  It's a huge reminder to focus on the small things in life, and make the best of every moment you have.

Today, on the way home from church we stopped at the Mary Jo Peckham Park to let Sammy play on the playground.  It was the day of their Kidfish tournament, and while we'd originally wanted to go fishing in the duck pond, we didn't have enough time before nap to get home and get all of our fishing gear.  Instead, we stopped off to play and to walk around and see others fishing. 

There's a certain piece of the playground that looks like a ship.  Sammy calls it his pirate ship, and he loves to pretend on it that he is the captain, and all others are his scalawags.  When we asked him about his day today, the best part was "telling those other kids that it was MY pirate ship.  And then they said it was THEIR pirate ship.  But I knew it was MY pirate ship." 

Oh, Sammy.  I'm so glad that was the best part of your day.  But really, baby - it's EVERYONE'S pirate ship - we're all just looking for our next big treasure!

It's Getting Better All the Time . . .

I would like to take a minute to express how much I love both of my children.  And in that, I'd like to thank God for giving me a glimpse today of where Sammy will be in several years. 

As many of you know, this has been a rough year for Sammy.  I honestly don't know who came up with the expression The Terrible Twos.  Because I'm here to tell you that the threes have been a million times more terrible than two ever was.  That being said, I also know that this is a phase, that Sammy has been adjusting to his baby sister being a member of the family now, and that he's also testing his boundaries.  He can be so darn stubborn sometimes, though. 

Those of you who know me well know that I have spent countless hours crying and asking God why Sammy can be so headstrong.  I honestly know the answer - it's in his genes.  My parents love to tell me stories of some of the crazy things I said and did growing up.  And they say that you are repaid seven-fold.  All I have to say is, thank goodness that Mike was such a good child, because otherwise, we'd really be in trouble.  Rita, feel free to jump in at any time and share with me that Mike was actually a donkey sometimes as well - methinks he doth protest his innocence too much!

I know that God never gives you more than you can handle.  And I also know that I wouldn't change my spirited little boy for anything - although he does need to tone it down a bit!  I'm not sure if the past few days have been so wonderful just because it's such a sharp contrast from his drug-induced psychosis the other day or what.  But either way, I'm not complaining!

Tonight, when I put Sammy to bed, we read a wonderful book by Max Lucado, called You Are Special.  I love this book - we'd never read it before, and the message is so powerful.  It brought me to tears as I read it to Sammy.  I love how it is so timeless, and demonstrates to children that God loves them just the way they are, no matter what.  I pray that I can always show unconditional love to my husband and my children - just like our Maker does to us. 

Back to Sammy's wonderful day . . . he has the most loving spirit.  He can be so gentle and kind, and his innocence is so beautiful.  I love his inquisitive nature, and the crazy ideas that he gets.  He continued to wear his police badge everywhere today - again, I really think he might have a future career in mind.  Either that, or he might be a pirate, since he loves to put on that costume as well.

Have you nurtured your child's spirit today?  Have you told them how much you love them, and how much they mean to you?  You should - you never know how much your child might need to hear that.  And when you say to them, "I'm so glad that you're my son," and they turn to you and say "I'm so glad that you're my mommy," your heart will break all over again for them.  Thank your children for the joy they bring to your lives . . . remind them that are children of God, and that you love them just for being them.