I wrote this entry several times, but the amount of frustration I felt at my lack of ability to summarize this year accurately led me to make this video.
I will always look back on this year with fondness. So much laughter. So many smiles. Some tears, but definitely more smiles. I can’t wait to see what life has reserved for me in 2011!
The best is yet to come….
A rather long recap of our Christmas. In no way will I be offended if you do not watch it. 🙂
What little kid gets excited about clothes under the Christmas tree? Like seriously, you don’t hear a whole lot of gleeful shouts over a new pair of socks, or a sweater. There are no comments about it being what, “I always wanted!” No immediately ripping the tags off, and trying them on right there. Unless! You’re my kid.
Rowan loves sweatpants. No, seriously. He LOVES sweatpants. As long as we aren’t going somewhere that he needs to dress up for a little, I let Rowan choose his own clothes if he wants to. 100% of the time he laments over which pair of sweatpants to wear. With so many options, you know, between the two pairs he had-blue and gray, it could take upwards of several minutes to choose. SEVERAL! MINUTES!
So when he pulled a package out from under the tree, tore the paper off, and discovered a red pair of sweatpants, he was done. The day was a success. He proclaimed them, “AWESOME!” and wanted to wear them today. That second, right now, today. I talked him out of it, stating there were other presents to open, but really I wanted to wash them first. I did so while he napped, thinking for sure he’d forget about them, but I’d get it done anyway. Nope, not so much. He stumbled out of his room, drunk with sleep, threw himself on my lap and whined his need for red sweatpants.
Thank goodness Santa came through for him.
So here we sit, on the playroom floor, that is so littered with toys, you can’t tell what color the rug is. Rowan has been dressed in his red sweats since 6:15 am, happily playing with new trucks and trains, stopping every few minutes to acknowledge his most comfortable article of clothing.
A store’s worth of new toys at his disposal, and my son, he admires his pants the most.
Post-kiss 🙂
Rowan woke up convinced it was Christmas morning. It was terribly hard to burst that bubble. He was so excited, that for a second I thought about feeding the illusion, and allowing him to open his presents. I didn’t though. I gently explained that today was a day called Christmas Eve, and while we don’t get to open presents today, we can still do a lot of fun stuff. I’m not sure he’s buying it.
Right now there are cranberry muffins in the oven, Rowan is watching a Christmas movie by tree-light, while playing with his wooden car carrier. We are going to the Christmas Eve service at our church tonight, but otherwise have a relaxing day ahead of us. Well, as relaxing as fishing little-boy underwear out of the toilet, and picking black play-doh out of blond hair can be.
Watching my two year old experience the holidays this year has been…..stunning. He is the epitome of child-like wonder and excitement. Between baking cookies, wrapping gifts, decorating the tree, and hanging stockings, it has been a month of so many joys and smiles.
Wherever you are, and whatever you are doing today, I hope you are filled with love. Love that makes you forget about your worries and your troubles. Love that brings tears to your eyes, and joy to others. Love like I have for my little boy, who really has no idea what he’s in for tomorrow morning.
Merry Christmas
It’s fairly obvious that I love to write. I’m not particularly good at it. I don’t have an impressive vocabulary, my grammar isn’t perfect, and my thoughts are often jumbled and choppy. Don’t even get me started on my spelling! There’s just something to be said for translating your own thoughts onto paper(or a computer screen) in a way that is uniquely yours. If you think about it, the probability of someone else writing down the exact same sequence of words that you have, is nill.
Instead of reading a book to Rowan during his bedtime routine, sometimes I’ll tell him a story. It could be a classic-Little Red Riding Hood, Peter Rabbit, or the Three Little Pigs. Other times I make up a story. Usually the main character is a blond little boy, around the age of two, and the plot revolves around the little blond boy riding a train, or driving a bulldozer. There is not usually a twist or hidden surprise in these stories. They are simple and to the point, and he loves them!
As a result of telling Rowan these stories, he has started to tell his own. This morning he brought me a pen and told me to write it down. (The night before I had said to Rowan that I need to start writing our stories down)
This is Rowan’s story:
“Big House”
by Rowan Gabriel Dalenberg
Age 2 years and 4 months
I’m going to build a house. It will have 1-2-3 bedrooms. Mommy, Rowan, and Ezra will live there. It will be big all the way to the top! It will be orange. There will be a little one playroom with a big tent. Huge! There will be big books! Much books! 1-2-3-2 books! It will have a kitchen and a stove. I can cook eggs and eat cranberries.
Leighton will come visit me. Brother Lincoln too! And Leighton’s mommy. We will play toys. We will play with Leighton’s toys. We will knock over a tower, and clean it up. Then they go.
Then Rowan goes sleepies. Mama tells a story. Rowan holds a taggie and goes night-night.
~The End~
At a few points during the telling of this story he got stuck. I would ask him a question or two to get him thinking about what happened next, and he would take off, chatting a mile a minute. I’m proud of Rowan. He spent a lot of time thinking about this story. I followed him around as he told it, feeling like a reporter trying to get the scoop.
It was fascinating to watch the wheels turn, witness the story develop, and his reaction to me reading it back to him when he was finished was priceless! “Good story, Mama! Big, big good!”
So! I need something from you guys. Well, not so much for me, as for Rowan.
See, he’s really interested in how the mail system works. He loves trips to the post office, and has endless questions about how the mail gets here. I want to take this opportunity to feed his curiosity.
My question to you is this: Will you send Rowan a letter? It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Just a piece of paper with, “Hi, how are you? Love, (your name here)” I want to be able to explain how someone wrote him a letter, mailed it, how it was sorted, and ended up in his hands.
I know it’s a busy time with the holidays coming up and all, but it would be great if he even got one or two letters.
Send me a message and I’ll send you his address.
Thank you!!
A Sweet Potato and a Superhero 