The Corn Tiger graduated from baby to two year-old big boy
last week. He spent two
nights at Nana's house by himself and gave up the boob (the
latter, not without a tussle).
It was one of the hotter weekends of the summer season so
far and we spent a lot of time outside with as few clothes on as possible,
meaning a light dress for me and nothing at all for CT.
We had breakfast, lunch and dinner in the yard, went
swimming at the pool in the afternoon, had icy cold drinks. He was so 'cited that he couldn't lay
down long enough for a nap, which meant we fell asleep together around 9 pm and
got up by 7 am, a might early on both ends for my schedule.
He brought me some little bean plants that he had started by
himself with his poppa in his garden in the city and we transplanted them into
my garden, shaded them with a beach umbrella and watered twice a day to keep them
from wilting. He helped me water
and picked up leaves and pinecones wearing the miniature version of garden
gloves I got for him. "I'm a
working man, " he told me solemnly.
He re-invented the game of baseball with a hard rubber ball
and a long plastic bubble container he found in the yard. I took him to the dollar store to get a
plastic bat and ball so he wouldn't bean himself or me while he was practicing
hitting. I tried showing him how
to "keep your eye on the ball," but he's better at throwing the ball
out himself and swinging at it, connects with the ball about every third time.
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| Filling the buckets for water play. |
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| "This is my tub."
It was so hot when we drove to the dollar store that I had to put a towel over one of the metal car seat buckles so it wouldn't burn his legs. We stopped downtown for what had to be one of his first ice cream cones. He already knew he wanted a cone, not a cup. A cone for "only me, Nana, only me." I've never seen someone so concentrated on soaking up every bit of the taste on his tongue, one slow lick after the other. He took his time, enjoying every lick and every bite.
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| On the bench our friend Sarah painted. |
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| Whole tongue lick. |
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| Lick. |
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| Lick. |
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| Saddled up. |
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| Poppa FJ getting ready to roll. |
Saturday night it was still hot at 8:30 pm, so we walked down the street to the park with the neighbors just before dark. He loved being out on his scooter in the warm night, playing in the deserted playground with just Chloe, his big girl friend from across the street. By the time I got him to leave, I had to wheel him home as he sat on the scooter platform, his feet carefully held out straight in the air to keep them from dragging.
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| In the sand pit. "I missed these guys." |
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| Scooting to the park near dark. Helmet light on. |
We got through the second night with the promise of
"Momma is coming tomorrow morning.
We'll go to the bus station to pick her up." He slept through the night with no
diaper and no accident in the bed.
So proud to be able to tell Momma, so excited to see her.
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| Watching Mother Goose a la Richard Scarry with Momma. |
I'm not saying we didn't have a dark hour in the night. He broke my heart when he woke up at 5 and 7 am the first night crying "I need my Mom" in tragic tones. But we got up at 7 and started planning our day and he got interested in yard work and play. And there were some moments of sorrow and even anger when he realized that, though Momma was here, he wasn't getting any more boob. But she has been gradual weaning him for months and it was a good time to make the break.
It's so hard to give up the baby but so much fun to have our time with the little boy.
More soon.
Little boy kisses for now.
N2
