TCNS

Nolan has completed his first month of preschool at TCNS.  He loves it and would readily attend 7 days a week if allowed.  This is a photo from their hike to Taughannock Falls this week.  It was quite the hike for little legs, but they were rewarded at the falls with snack time. Then they practically ran back to the head of the trail for the greatest child motivator... a playground.

context

I can explain all of the pictures from my bike. 

After spending a weekend in the shop, it came back doing more bikey things and less sluggish things just in time for my favorite riding season.

My newest discovery is that if I just wait until PTB arrives home, I can unhook the mobile, ride faster, not have to have a desirable-to-a-preschooler destination (in fact, not have any destination in mind at all),  enjoy sweet peace instead of refereeing quarrels and antics (like the time Nolan took off his helmet and shoes and threw them all out of the mobile), and not wonder if I will die pulling 100 pounds up every hill.

I've been riding alone more lately and soaking in the countryside.  After a few trips without my camera, I decided it would be worth the nuisance of lugging.   It's beautiful in the hills of Upstate NY and though photos do a shoddy job of capturing all of its magnificence, they do at least hint at it.

Fawn

munching warily
transfixed otherwise
watching me
snap a shot (the kind kind)
from my bike
in Upstate, NY

Jone's Cemetery

quiet, solitary

nearly forgotten

holding loved ones

and memories

from my bike

in Upstate, NY

Fields

here and there
on hills and in valleys
with barns and silos
from my bike
near dusk
in Upstate, NY

This Feather

was large
from a turkey? pheasant? hawk? (enter your guess here)
sticking straight out of the grass
on the side of a road
from my bike
in Upstate, NY

Round 2: Smiles and High Fives All Around

This was the routine when we potty trained my firstborn son:

I pondered, planned and purchased (treats),
I worried, wondered and waited (for a miracle),
I researched, rallied, and rinsed (soiled clothing) .

It was an ordeal.  It was a production.  It was a success, but it was hard work.

By default, we are pioneering a new approach with my second boy.  It's the Do-Nothing approach.  I say by default, because with the way things have been going this year, potty training was simply the last thing on my mind ... until one day, not long ago, when my little Pook asked to use the potty because he was suddenly very interested in underwear.  And that was all it took --a smashing success (give or take a few accidents).

Skies Above

a field of corn
from my bike
on a dirt road
in Upstate, NY

Gerret's Top 25

 popsicles, candy, ice cream, just plain sugar (by the handfuls if left within his reach), sucking on his index and middle fingers, sticking those same fingers in tight spaces or wrapping them in string, fire engines, monster trucks, trains, super heroes, basketball shorts, his race car shirt, Cinder, Nolan's Favorite Girls, noodles for every meal (if only that were permissible), vitamins, the phrase(?) Poom Poom Ping, Sister Howard and Sister Bradford, campfires, pajamas, his pillow case, his dad, Nolan, carrots from the garden (but never the store), and... new this week.... underwear

  

There Are Hard Things About Being a Mom

The hardest is that children grow up.

I met such a confusing mix of emotions today when I dropped my firstborn off for his first day at  preschool.

Two weeks ago, I was worried that he wouldn't be able to attend because he was exhibiting some serious symptoms of attachment/anxiety.  We had a long, stressful summer and it took its toll on everybody -especially Nolan.  I wasn't just worried about his attendance at preschool (that's not such a big deal) but the implication for complications in his future really had me regretting our summer and worrying about how things would add up.

Miraculously, something changed in the past week or so.  Nolan was suddenly more sure of himself, more excited about life, and looking forward to the future -- especially  preschool.

So this morning... 

I met Nervous.  Nervous said it wouldn't go smoothly, that the old anxious Nolan would cling to my legs, screaming when the time came to leave him.  Nervous was certain that he would get hurt or wet his pants or have some other crisis during his time there and never want to return.

We made it to the sidewalk in front of the preschool.  He was chatting excitedly, asked me to read him the "Welcome" sign, went right in the door, and led the way down the stairs.  Relief sent Nervous packing.  

The boy who was adamantly opposed to preschool two weeks ago (and for the month previous to that) was missing when I turned around from exchanging papers and money in the entrance.  I found him inside, comfortably seated next to one of the teachers, preparing to create something with glue, appearing like he was made for the moment.  Relief shook hands with Astounded.

Nolan barely acknowledged me when I kissed him goodbye.  At this point Stinging stepped in, because let's face it, sometimes it's hard as a mom to be constantly needed, but the realization that you aren't anymore is much harder.  (Is stinging an emotion? I definitely felt some stinging.)

After it was over --the time spent just me and my youngest-- we returned to the school and found Nolan in the play yard.  His two teachers both confirmed that he was a professional preschooler.  He played, crafted, made new friends, and got (very) dirty.  Then I reacquainted myself with Proud.  Yeah, he's amazing, I said in my mind. 

Lovely Lady

Cinderoo.  My boys also refer to her as their "sweet, sweet little kitty", "princess","Cinderoo-ie", anything that rhymes with "Cinder-boo-boo", and they make up names for her on the spot all the time.  We really think the world of this cat (I do even at 5 in the morning when she's licking my face).  

 

 

(Nolan is making up for her lack of excitement)

Stewart

It's the name of one of my favorite parks.

The sprinklers aren't fancy like the ones in Geneva (or the ones in your city), the playgrounds are well worn, the large bird-duck-goose population mar the grass with droppings, cops peruse the grounds regularly, people take advantage of it in unfortunately sad ways, the beach sometimes smells like something unidentifiable and nasty, benches and pavilions are OLD, even the signs to announce the impending removal of all garbage cans (in the mid-90s) are outdated (the garbage cans have been reinstated).

I can't produce an analogous enumeration of Stewart's qualities, but I still love it.  I have loved it as a girl feeding ducks atop the bulging willow roots lining the stinky shore of Cayuga.  I have loved it as a hopeful adolescent watching (from squeaky swinging benches) the mythical sparkle of sail boats out on the lake.  I love it now because my children thrill to run through the chilly sprinkles or sit on the holes to trap the water and are eager to climb on the same metal caterpillar that I once climbed.

It just feels like home.

Leaf Eater

Fourth captured caterpillar this week called Leaf Eater by the Namer of All Things Nameable

Gerret has taken to calling Nolan "Nonoy".

Nonoy... beloved name of the past... the name we enjoyed laughing about and reciting....the name he was so proud to bare.  Now... not so much.

Nolan repeatedly scolds Gerret, "No!  My name is not Nonoy, it's Nolan!"

"Don't you know that you used to call yourself Nonoy?" I ask.

"Yeah Mom, but that was when I was a baby.  Now I am a big boy and my name is Nolan."

Sheesh.

He's growing up and he is well aware.  Preschool starts in 5 days and counting.  

Humidity Illustrated

If I had realized that a before photo would be necessary, I would have taken one.  This however is the after:

 We came home from the fair with a double-fisted handful of fluffy cotton candy leftover.  It was still in the bag as we entered the house.  We were all ready for a late nap.  Gerret was eyeing that bag --started fiddling with it --turned it upside down --and the cotton candy dropped to the floor in the threshold of the door.  I was fixated on that nap, so I barely noticed any of this.  It was my subconscious who, in one swift motion, picked up the fluff, placed it and its bag on the counter next to the door to discard later.  I continued on to potty time, reading time, drink-of-water time, singing time, and finally nap time.  Routine complete, a half hour past, I re-entered the kitchen sans children and collapsed at the kitchen table like I do most days --you know, to regroup.  After collecting myself, I turned to my kitchen to tidy up and noticed this brightly colored mass sticking to the counter by the door (see photo above).  The double fisted fluff was reduced to a small sticky lump in just under an hour.  New York's humidity got the best of yet another victim.

I dare say I look and feel like that at the end of some muggy days too.

Tallulah on My Mind

If I wasn't already thinking about it, I probably wouldn't have noticed when I watched this with my mom that the woman calls her daughter by name.  Tallulah.  Is that awesome or what?

THE Magnificent

Okay, so I don't think it's so magnificent.  I'm not sure that it could be deemed what I was looking for.  I don't know that he will remember it when he's 26 or 86.  It really isn't meaningful to me at all.  And since I'm being totally honest.... it was the product of a last-ditch, 11pm-Walmart-trip effort.

But... For his birthday, PTB and I gave Nolan this Iron Man stuff.

And... His eyes did light up and it has captivated his attention for more than a few days.  And he has been sharing with his brother and the cat.

So, mission accomplished.  I guess.