Toys Arrest

Today we had some time after Sam's flu shot and before going to a neat gymnastics class at CORE Academy in the West End.  Soooo we did some retail therapy by popping into Toys R Us by Regency Mall for a few minutes.  Sam promptly started to refer to the store as, "Toys Arrest."  Of course, this take on the name had me cackling away like a Halloween witch, only nicer, I hope.  

Usually Sam's misnomers end up having an uncanny amount of insight.  Not always, mind you, but usually they do.  So then I started in on one of my favorite past-times, musing to myself.   It went something like this --  "Toys Arrest?  Hmmn... Does that some up the place at all?"  Well, maybe it does, I thought to myself.  Could the store be a sort of jail for toys?  Perhaps it is from a toy's point of view.  

This scenario reminded me of one of my all-time favorite children's books called "Corduroy" by Don Freeman.  In that adorable story, a lovable bear named Corduroy languishes away in a department store.  He longs for a real home with someone who would truly loves him and take care of him despite his rumpled appearance.  *** SPOILER ALERT***  By the end of the story, a sweet little girl takes him home for her very own and even sews a new button on his overalls.

So, I guess you could consider Toys R Us to be "Toys Arrest," at least from the point of view of lonely toys like the forlorn Corduroy trapped inside longing for a happy home.

Alas, we did not free any toys from "toy jail" today, just bought some Halloween candy (which by the way is 50% off.)   Some days I purposefully try to not buy Sam anything, so he doesn't take it for granted.   And today was one of those days.  

My apologies to those Corduroys we left behind toys at Toys Arrest.  Like Arnold, we'll be baaaaaack to liberate you at some point I'm sure, perhaps just in time for Christmas. Someone's got to boost the economy and, more importantly, free the toys!

LibbY

"I Can Do It Myself"

And you know what, most of the time he can do it himself.  Of course this freaks me out a wee bit. To me he will always be the little babe we brought home from the hospital who couldn't hold his head up.  Man, now he is bounding up and down the stairs by himself, climbing all over anything and everything at the playground, and even switching lights on and off himself.  Is this boy who bounces into the tub without a second's hesitation the same infant who was so terrified of the bathroom that he practically hyperventilated during his first bath?  No wonder why parents can never let go.  You have your kid's most vulnerable state imprinted on your mind forevermore.

So he has progressed.  Then why at almost three-and-a-half won't he use the potty even a little bit?  I gave up trying again recently because everyone, including the pediatrician, says that pressuring a kid will only make them take longer to do it.  (Duh!)  So we've been cruising along pressure-free, but I couldn't  help myself the other day.  I had to ask, "So when are you going to start potty training?  He replied in a firm voice, "In four weeks."  SHould I mark that on my calendar?  I think not.  In the meantime I wait for the "I Can Do It Myself" attitude to apply to all thing potty.  In the meantime I can still try to enjoy that here is still some baby left in this little boy who is now well over 40 inches tall.

LibbY

Touching Lots o' Trucks

We came.  We saw.  And, boy, did we touch!  Touch-a-truck, what a fantastically well organized event by the Junior League!  Everywhere you looked there were huge trucks of all shapes and sizes, with their drivers at the ready to help kids get on and explain what cool functions the mighty machines perform.  There were not one but two bouncy houses, plus lots of giveaways, games, and face painting.  Needless to say, my little truck lover had a great time and wanted to stay forever.  The only real bummer was the long lines for the more popular, but even that was worth it to have the charity event be such a booming success.  Heck, it was so crowded when we arrived at 11 AM we parked 1/4 of a mile away, I kid you not.  

As Arnold would say, "We'll be baaaack!"  Can't wait for next year to get there earlier! 

VROOM, VROOM...

LibbY

My Little Parrot

It is really time to watch what I'm saying.  Lately Sam has been asking lots of questions about how babies are made and how he came into the world.  Jeesh, he is only 3 for crying out loud!  I thought I had a little more lead up time than that!  

I've told him coutless times that he gew in my tummy, but the other day he told me the "real" story about his arrival at the McNamee household.  "I walked up the stairs and knocked on the door, and you answered the door!"  Well, thank God I was home and not out rooting around the Dollar Store looking for bargains.  If only delivery was so easy!!  No need for epidurals, episiotomies, or a hospital gown when he just comes a-knocking on the door!

He's also been firing off the "why" question incessantly.  It goes something like this:

Mommy: "Sam, we're leaving for school in a few minutes."

Sam: "Why?"

Mommy: "Because school starts pretty soon."

Sam: "Why?"

Mommy:  "Because it's Wednesday, and you go to school on Wednesday."

Sam:  "Why?"

Mommy:  "Because God made it that way."

End of conversation.

So the other day I overheard him talking to his Thomas trains as I was cooking dinner. He explained in a patient voice to the gang that Toby the Tram Engine is brown because God made him that way.  That pretty much ended that conversation, too.

Then ast night I told him, "I'm so glad that God gave me you."  And his reply was, "And I'm glad God gave me that thing over there," pointing to his huge wooden Thomas trunk.  Well, at least we are both grateful for a prized possession.

LibbY

Boys Loose at the Children's Museum!

My dear friend Debby was in town from Norfolk with her two young rambunctious boys, Collin and Chase.  So I brought my young rambunctious boy, Sam, to meet up with them at the Children's Museum, a haven for young rambunctious boys.  We sure hit the jackpot since CMoR was gloriously empty, and it was a sunny afternoon to boot.  The boys got their pick of toys and the chance to burn off some steam both inside and out.  Plus there were lots of new exhibits at CMoR, definitely worth checking out.

The Debster and I go way, way, wayyyyyy back to those swinging single days (daze?) of pounding the pavement in Seattle and Tacoma trying to find "Mr. Right" -- or just settling for j "Mr. Right Now."  We both worked on post at Fort Lewis, Washington -- Debby as an engineer and myself as a JAG Officer, which is Army speak for lawyer.  **However, all this reminiscing would not be complete without mentioning our third partner-in-crime, Jamie, formerly known as "The General," who has since settled down with her hubby in CT with two little girls of their own.  Unfortunately the Mommy Formerly Known the General was not around for our antics at CMoR, but we sure wished she was!

While we watched our sons run around like Mexican jumping beans pinging from one end of CMoR to the other, we just had to laugh.  How long had it been since we saw Pearl Jam live in Seattle on a Monday night after work?  A few lifetimes, several deliveries, lots of moves, a couple of weddings, and that's just for starters!  We used to share pints of frosty Pacific Northwest beer and nachos, and there we were swapping off diapers and exchanging potty training woes.

As attractive as that carefree single life seems now, this is what we wanted.  This is what we were searching for in Pioneer Square traipsing around on Saturday nights.  We're both so fortunate to have great husbands, a sense of home and stability, and kiddos who are happy and healthy, at least most of the time.  This is our happily ever after, but nothing on Earth is ever perfect.  Just like single-hood has some lonely nights to endure, parenthood has its many poopy diapers.  If only "happily ever after" included a Monday night out hearing Pearl Jam live.  No, that would be called Nirvana.

LibbY