Easy like Sunday morning

Say what you will about Facebook and their questionable business practices, today I’m thankful for the ability to connect with a wide range of people.

This weekend has been full of spending money and giggling like a little girl, but it’s not Jokker’s fault this time. In response to my last post, a friend suggested I contact a boxer breeder she knew of who had an older dog looking for a new home (a million thanks Ann!)

Based on the cat’s still roundly pissy yowling whenever Cyrus gets too close (he isn’t scared, just mad he’s not an only furry animal in the house now) it may be too early to declare total victory on the dog acquisition front, but in only a day we’ve made adorable headway.

Cyrus is the same age as Kade, coming six years old, already a distinguished gentleman with impeccable manners and a tendency for carrying stuffies around in his mouth. He’s a super cuddler with a soft mouth and needing a soft place to land (he prefers the couch to the super highly rated dog bed I found on Amazon). Kade is already smitten, Tom is being won over by Cyrus doing his best to ignore said pissy cat, and strangers stop and they comment on his handsomeness on our walks.

I know there are a lot of heavy, terrible things racketing around the world these past few weeks, and I’ve given what blood and help I can. In our little corner of the world, our hearts are quietly full, and I’ve made at least one little boy tremendously happy. Coupled with a heavy headed snoring dog, tasty coffee, Tom home from South Korea and a new job to start at tomorrow, life is pretty excellent!

Learning lessons

Sunday was a normal day for us, as in I bashed heads with my dad, got a new car (Possible codename: Emerald Queen), & nearly lost my child in Target (trying to find accessories for said new car). Wait, did I just admit that in public? Lost my child? For five minutes in a busy box store, I didn’t know where my child was. Pause a bit before you call CPS on me; a few good things came out of this, past the near heart attack & tears.

  
This incident more clearly defines my personal parenting struggle between two types. I could be a helicopter which people seem to expect these days, which goes against my basically lazy inner Cali girl. More & more I lean on my own hazy memories of slipping the bounds of my supervision when I was Kade’s age & wandering the Arizona desert with only a probably confused, definitely long suffering dog named Major for company.
As Tom & I stood a few feet away & watched Kade search the aisles for us, we waited for him to turn his head two inches & spy us, I was in a way testing him. Could he figure it out, how to seek us? How much tether to give him, considering the huge, wild ride of kindergarten poised to jump us at the end of this summer?

  
Kade didn’t see us (or there would have been no tale to tell), instead he headed off uncertainly down a different aisle. I shook my head as I headed out to collect him, but the panic only set in when he wasn’t there. No matter what the statistics say, I watch too much Criminal Minds. I understand the potentials in this situation, but there’s still the struggle. How much do I protect, from everything, & how much can I start teaching him now to fend for himself, to engage the brain resting in that pretty blonde head? What is appropriate for this child at this age, compared to his desert wandering mother, farm wandering with two older bothers’ father, or Tom with two older sisters in a sleepy farm town?
In that five frantic minutes with the worst trotting through my mind’s eye, & I can say this now with pride since the panic has (mostly) passed, Kade proved he does listen to me, & remember. I have two main rules for when we go out-don’t leave a place unless you’re holding the hand of whoever you went in with, & if you can’t find us, find an employee or cop & tell them you’re lost. It was the second one he put into use on Sunday. He found a women with a red Target shirt on, clearly an employee & not a random Joe Schmoe, & informed her he couldn’t find his Mommy.
Thankfully the tale ends there, as Tom overheard her calling a code yellow & found him that way, & then here came Mommy to scoop him up with no panic evident on her face.
So there’s the good news out of all this; he can handle himself fairly well in such a situation. But I’m going to teach him how to do a proper search, or just stay in place, for god’s sake child!
   

Choices…

Tomorrow night I have a quite rare child & boyfriend free night, as the boyfriend is running the kid down to meet his dad for his weekend with the blondie. So, after work, I’m free to be a seize the night owl, & I’m a little torn as to what to do. So far I’ve come up with four things, each valid in their own ways.
I could fight traffic out to Eagle Creek & work my current rescue horse, a sweet little 3 year old Arabian, Cha Cha, & spend some quiet time in the barn & seeing what she can pick up on, practice my groundwork with her. Minus the traffic part, I think this is my main choice.

  
I could also sneak out to Ikea, which is fairly close to work, & wander around dreaming of ways to make our small apartment feel bigger, a concern for us with Kade bigger & more rambunctious every day & no yard to kick him out to. Ikea is a huge draw for me, with its shout that just get this one shelf & all your organizational needs will be at peace. I also spend too much time on Pintrest occasionally, because I’ve put just enough ideas from there into practice to keep going back! It’s a joke of course, I’m a pack rat with cycles (collect a ton of stuff, get rid of a ton of stuff every spring) living with two boys for whom the notion of laundry in baskets & toys on shelves is sketchy at best. But a girl can dream…& buy that one shelf….

  
Another option with the moon so riotously full this week is a night hike, say up Powell Butte or along the Columbia River, somewhere close in & bright with that moon we don’t get to hang out with often during our rain soaked Oregon winters.

Or I could be much more boring & head home, maybe hole up with some soup & finally get my current novel plugged into YWriter & wrangle it into making sense, bouncing between Netflix (I just finished the Office for the umpteenth time, maybe time to get reacquainted with Dean & Sam or Dinozzo & Gibbs) & actually writing & plotting. Such a night, so many possibilities!

  

Who is 5 today?

  
Memories are a tricky thing, never perfectly trustworthy & apt to change or fade over time. But I have good reason to clearly recall what I was doing today, five years ago; labor! I wrote one of my most in depth blogs ever about it, but suffice to say it was a memorable event!
Even now, I can look back on how I brought my son into the world & draw strength from that. It’s a reminder that I’m doing pretty well for a first time Mom, & I have been making fairly solid choices (most of them anyway) since before he was born.

  
Today I have a golden, flirty, fully formed & yet still so much to discover little blondie who won’t stop growing & changing with each breath! I learn more from him & with him than in decades of schooling, & I never cease to be entertained. The best, of course, are the (thankfully decreasing!) wretched, woe is me, the world is bleak tantrums. You can’t help but laugh at what causes kids to go off the rails, #reasonswhymysoniscrying (today, no iPad before school, which has always been & will always be the rule).
I’ve practiced countless ninja moves, heard amazing stories of jet planes, friends & speed, accepted mud as a part of my daily life, cursed Legos when I find them with my bare feet, stocked up on Band-Aids of different kinds (Angry Birds, Star Wars, & of course, Cars), lost most of the pairs to his socks, & never cease to be amazed by how much pizza a 40 pound person can put away. And still I’ve not sucked in enough of that clean, sleeping little boy smell, felt the thump of his heart or the amazing amount of body heat put out when he crawls into bed with us to hide from a nightmare to get me through those teenage years I know are sulking just around the corner of those adorable fat cheeks & skinned knees.
We’ve welcomed Tom into our lives (I’m pretty sure he was accepted mainly on the basis of food & Lego provider by some of us). But at least we have someone to teach him the patience of fishing, the wicked coolness of a space video game, & an endless supplier of fart jokes (all farts real or imaginary are the most hilarious ever.)
I love you kiddo, & here’s to so many more Lego creations to build, puddles to become one with, rockets to launch, books to read & laundry to clean!