*Cue music…I BELIEVE I CAN FLY…I BELIEVE I CAN TOUCH THE SKY!

Yesterday was wet and blustery, cold and raw.  Naturally Rowan wanted to play outside.  Weirdo.

He circled the yard in his gator a few times, tied up a tree with bungee cords, and sat on his bike, cursing the rain.  While he was doing all those activities, keeping his blood pumping and staying warm, I was doing this: Image Rowan had the brilliant idea to dig out the kite that is currently rigged with a coat hanger, heavy string, and a BBQ skewer.  I tried to explain that it probably wouldn’t fly, as I didn’t want him to be disappointed when he couldn’t get it in the air.  As is his way, he persevered, and for a half hour he and I ran around the yard trying to get that darn thing up.  He eventually told me that I wasn’t doing it right and released me from my duties as string holder.  I went back to reading my book on the porch, and not ten minutes later I looked up from “The Decameron”, and he had that dolphin kite soaring. photo 5 (1) photo 3 (2) photo 2 (3) photo (1)

As any parent (or anyone who has spent any time with little kids) knows, they are strikingly persistent, optimistic, positive, and have a way of showing you your own bad attitude.  Time after time Rowan has proved me wrong.  When I say that he won’t be able to do something, it only drives him that much harder to want to do it.  Sometimes I love seeing that side of him, like when he flew the kite.  Other times, that side of him gets him in trouble, like when I told him not to use an entire tube of toothpaste in one day, so he did.  Stinker.

Anyway, I need to learn that just because I can’t figure something out, doesn’t mean HE can’t figure it out.  With every passing year the lad grows smarter than me, and not for one second do I want to repress that part of him.  If it means that I have to buy a few extra tubes of toothpaste, and clean a few messes, I think I can deal with that.

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Best of Buds

A few days ago Rowan found his soul mate.  It doesn’t matter that there is four years between them, or that he lives a half hour away.  It doesn’t even matter that it’s a he!  All that matters is that Avery has this:

tractorsThis is only a portion of his (dad’s) collection!  I’m pretty sure that is part of what Rowan’s heaven will look like.

One of the things I love about hanging out with Avery, other than the fact that I get to chat with his mother, is getting to see what Rowan will be like as a big brother some day.  At first there was a little frustration about Avery wanting to move Rowan’s carefully lined up tractors, but after explaining that Avery was too little to understand, something seemed to click.  Rowan became patient and kind, loving and playful.  He gently told Avery, “No thank you, Avery, I’m playing with that.”  Sometimes Avery would move on, but if he didn’t, Rowan would silently plead with his eyes to take that kid somewhere else!  If we didn’t though, he would play with Avery for bit, explaining the parts of the tractor, or what kind of tractor it was.  It was adorable to watch these two tiny men together.

playing

Avery’s first birthday is next week, and he was the lucky recipient of a little slide that they put together while we were at their house.  The slide was great.  The box it came in was better.  Rowan patiently played peek-a-boo with Avery, letting his little friend shut him up in the box time after time.  If Avery wandered off, as one year old’s are prone to do, Rowan would invite him back to play, and they’d giggle as I threatened to ship them to Alaska.

photo 4

We also went on a hay ride this weekend.  It was a bit chilly, but perfect for warm hats, and wrapping up in quilts.  For an hour we cuddled against a scratchy bale of hay while nibbling goldfish crackers and watching the world pass by.  🙂

stare

Five

I think it’s bad blog etiquette to start a post off with how much you’ve neglected your blog, how sorry you are for being gone so long, yadda….yadda….yadda.  I won’t do that.  I know I haven’t posted in a long time, and I don’t really care.   Between caring for my 93 year old grandmother, my son, the stack of books by my bed, my garden, school,  and eating cupcakes(what?), and homeschooling Rowan, there is simply no time for this.  Well, obviously there’s time NOW because I’m writing this.  *sigh* Ok! So our neighbor is having a tree cut down and Rowan is riveted to that scene and already completed his school for the day, Grandma is at lunch, the house is a mess and staying that way, there are weeds in my garden, a Tupperware of untouched cupcakes on my kitchen table, I’m between semesters, and the stack of books is patiently waiting to be read.  In other words, I’m being lazy today.

My fall semester is about to start, and after acing my summer semester full of science and labs, I’m going into this with all the confidence in the world.  After getting the biology and math and stuff I’m horrible at out of the way, I’m ready to read and write and write and write for the next four months.  It will mean painfully late nights, reading novel after novel instead of post after post on Facebook.  The upside to that is my brain will no longer feel like it’s sagging.

For anyone that knew me as a child the thought of me having any sort of predilection towards learning is actually laughable.  I mean, I’ve always had a appetite for learning, but it had to be on *my* terms.  That taken into account, I was a poor student.  I wasn’t stupid by any means; I was actually quite bright.  The problem was that all I wanted to do was read.  That in itself was a good thing, but I never wanted to take the time to read what was assigned to me.  I also had the gift of daydream.  I could read an entire section of my history book *OUT LOUD* and not have heard a word of it because my brain was somewhere else-probably thinking about climbing trees and fishing with my best buddy, Tyler.  I wasn’t your typical pre-teen.  I wasn’t into boys (other than hanging out with Ty, who I didn’t even see as a boy until one summer when he decided he’d rather learn how to use the backhoe, and I decided I’d rather travel than spend our days by the pond and in the woods. It was never quite the same after that summer, but he will always hold some of my most favorite childhood memories. So many fish….so many forts….so many frogs…it was magnificent.) I didn’t care what my hair looked like, or makeup.  I didn’t really have a desire to be popular.  I didn’t want to be disliked, of course, but I didn’t have the drive to include myself in things.  I would have much rather be curled up in the hammock, or in the safe haven of my bedroom with a story that could become my reality.  I was intensely shy, and an introvert in every sense of the word.  I was home-schooled from third grade on, and the idea of sitting in a classroom being compared to other students was the embodiment of all that I feared.

As I grew older, I started to outgrow those traits a little, and I attended a semester in New Hampshire, and then again in California.  I never quite had the avidity to continue though.  I did well enough, but I just didn’t….care.  Then I had a child.  At first our needs were met, and I still didn’t have the ambition to tackle my continued education.  THEN came the turning point in my life: I became a single parent.  Every single one of my son’s needs were placed on my shoulders.  I had enough work experience and positive recommendations that I could probably get a decent job making just enough to live on, but nothing more.  That was not what I desired for my son, or for myself.  It was time to get serious.  My tenacious demeanor started coming in handy at this stage of my life.  I made the commitment to my little family that I would finish school, and that I would finish well.  My  son deserved that at least.

So while my son is busy turning 5, I’m busy laying a foundation for his future.  Yes, mine too, but it’s mostly for him.  He’s the cutest little motivator.  🙂

That whole Rowan turning five thing…I’m not ok with it.  Let me rephrase that: I’m glad he’s healthy and happy, and has made it five years without falling off one of the numerous items he’s climbed, and broken his neck, but his babyhood is over and I will always ache for that time.  He’s all boy in the sense that he’s a rough and tumble, tackle, high energy guy.  In other ways he’s a very unique child, a fact I can relate to.  He’s shy until he gets to know you, and then he never stops talking.  He loves reading and singing and playing instruments in the loudest and most chaotic way imaginable.  He loves being outdoors and riding his gator.  He’s obsessed with tools and building and fixing.  His birthday wishlist is as follows:

  • A ladder(which he’s getting)
  • A hatchet(still under consideration)
  • A hand cart(which he’s getting)
  • A stud finder(which he’s getting)
  • Every single item at Lowes(He’s getting some tools, but not everything in the joint)
  • Duct tape(which he’s getting)
  • And the only toy he’s consistently asked for: a cheap-o helicopter(which I haven’t gotten yet, but plan to)

He’s also getting a toolbox and some other random items, but sometimes I feel like I’m shopping for a twenty-five year old, not a five year old.  There are other people I love, but none seem to sweep me off my feet quite like him.  He’s my world.

Every year for Row’s birthday, I put together a “highlights” video of Rowan’s babyhood and past year, so here is that video: