Chatty Charlie

During our Thursday drive to and from Summerville for Bible Study Charlie and I had some "interesting" conversations...


To Summerville...

Following a lengthy description of "Funland", the rainbow land with no naps, candy for breakfast and no sugar-tummy where Daddy's don't have to work and everything is made out of flowers and raindrops and sunshine rainbows and clouds.

Charlie: You're really fun, Mom.
Mommy: Thank you.  You're really fun, too.  That's why we're such a good pair.
Charlie: I want to live with you.
Mommy: You do live with me, Buddy.
Charlie: But I want to live with you when I'm big.
Mommy: Well, you can talk to your wife and maybe you two can live really nearby.
Charlie: I'm scared to get married.
Mommy: Why are you scared to get married?
Charlie: [Incoherent mumbling].
Mommy: What?
Charlie: Girls will think I'm silly.
Mommy: Well, you just need to find a girl that's as silly as your mommy and she'll fit in great.
Charlie: Will I have to dance?

And back to West Ashley...

Charlie: Mom, will you hand me my black mask. Yeah!  There, there, there [as Mom gropes blindly in the backseat].  Remember how I as a cowboy?
Mommy: Yes.
Charlie: Well, now I'm a super hero.  I just put this on.
Mommy: Does it cover your secret identity like Mr. Incredible?
Charlie: Yes. 
Mommy: What is your super power? 
Charlie: My feet turn into roller skates!
Mommy: Are you Rollerboy?
Charlie: Well, in the movies they usually call "Superman Helper Spiderman".  I'm the black Spiderman.
Mommy: Really?
Charlie: And I have my own changing room where I push the button on my rollerskates.  And you just roll an inch then whoosh.  You go so fast.  Like a horse...wait no, like a car on a highway...what is faster than a car on a highway?
Mommy: An airplane?
Charlie: A jet! Fast like a jet.  Does a police jet go fast when it's trying to catch a bad guy?
Mommy: Yes.  Very fast.
Charlie: Fast like a horse police jet catching a bad guy.

Milestone

Funny isn't it...how one milestone can completely transform the day of a grumpy four-year-old and his frustrated mommy?


Charlie: I read it!

Mommy: Yes! You did! That's what we've been working for.

Charlie: I can't believe I did it!  I can't believe I read a book. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!  [Charlie tackles Mommy with a hug] I couldn't have done it without you!

The melodrama is a bit annoying at times...but at other times it's just perfect!

An explanation of sorts...

Some of our most avid readers (and by this I of course mean Jason and my mom...) have been "wondering" about the fact that Charlie updates have been so few and far between lately. 

Ummmm....well...I don't really have a good reason. 

It's not that there is nothing to write about...Charlie is interested in and learning so many new things, and we're doing lots of fun stuff with our friends.  He's started football.  He's learning to ride his bike.  He's learning to read.  We've started a new church.  He's drawing a lot....and of course, he's still talking just as much as ever.

So maybe that's it.  We're spending so much time going from little boy to big boy that I'm just too worn out to write about it?  What can I say - the more fun we have the less time I have to type it all up. 

I am overjoyed that Jason and I decided to skip preschool and have Charlie home one more year, and as much as I know he'll be more than ready for the structure and socialization of kindergarten next year, I'm already beginning to miss him...So don't be surprised if the updates remain sparse -- I need to soak in as much of my "big boy" as I can before I have to share him with the world.

Some of our recent activities:

And so it begins...

Driving down 61 en route home from the Audobon Swamp Garden...

Charlie: "Mommy, do you see that sign over there?"
Mommy: "The one right there?"
Charlie: "Yes.  I think that place is a car wash, because I read the words "car" and "wash".  And the car in the picture looks shiny."
Mommy: "Wow, buddy.  You're right.  It does say "car wash"."
Charlie: "You mean I read my first sign?  We have to tell Daddy!"

This is dedicated to my mom, dad, brother and sister who spent years in the car listening to me read signs...and Jason who spent the drive home from lasik surgery listening to me read signs...let the fun begin!

A Place in this World

Tuesday night's sleepy chat with Daddy...

Charlie: Daddy, when I grow up I'm going to love you even if I live in a different place.
Daddy: Buddy, I'm going to love you even if you live in a different place, too, but I would love for you to live in the same place as us.
Charlie: I might live in Africa...if they have houses there...
Daddy: Why do you want to live in Af---?
Charlie: No, no, no.  Not Africa.  There are wild cheetahs running around there.  Mommy told me.  Maybe I'll live in Orlando.  You can drive there.
Daddy: Hmmm...
Charlie: No!  I know.  I'll live in Virginia Beach.
Daddy: Oh?  Lakely lives in Virginia Beach, huh?
Charlie: Yeah.  [Yawn]  Maybe tomorrow Mommy and I can get my globe out and find my place.

Music Lover

Charlie walked in while I was blowing dry my hair (and it's not even a special occasion) listening to my iPod -- his latest discovery.  With a huge grin on his face he told me, "I just love this music!"

Realizing that he probably hadn't hunted through the menus to find his Bible songs, I wondered what he could be listening to...Gary Allen, The BoDeans, Sugarland, Bruce Springsteen?  Which of my favorites was he appreciating so much?

Embarrassingly enough, one of my all time favorite songs...Summer Nights from Grease...over and over again.  That's my boy!

It WAS his first rodeo...

Through day three of our annual family vacation to Texas, Jason and I were fairly sure the highlight would be the major strides Charlie made in swimming.  He can officially doggy paddle now and seems to be turning into quite a little fish.  That definitely seemed like the pinnacle of the trip...until Sunday evening.

On something of a whim, Grandma and I decided that we all should go to the rodeo in town.  Since I grew up going to more rodeos than I can count, and Jason used to work the gates for a bull-riding friend in highschool, Charlie definitely needed some rodeo exposure -- and what better place than Old El Paso?

Thankfully, on yet another whim, Grandma and I had taken Charlie to get a summer cowboy hat Saturday afternoon... (his black felt one was too hot to bring to El Paso in August)

Walking in to Justin's...
Grandma: Charlie, you have your boots, your cowboy shirt and your badge.  What one thing are you missing to be a real cowboy?
Charlie: A horse?
Grandma: No, silly!  A hat!

Choosing the right hat (and bolo) is serious business

 

So Sunday evening came, and we all headed to the El Paso coliseum.  As soon as we were through the gates a lady approached me and asked if Charlie would like to Mutton Bust.  Thrilled at the idea, Jason and I asked Charlie if he'd like to ride a sheep (we didn't so much mention the falling off part...) and he said, "Sure," so we paid our $10 and went off to ride the rides before the main event.

 

Zipping away

 

Our high flier

 

Once the rodeo, itself, began though we thought he might be getting a little nervous about his decision when Jason noticed a very serious look on Charlie's face.

 

Figuring it out

 

 

Daddy: What's going on, buddy?

Charlie: I'm just thinking.

Daddy: What were you thinking?

Charlie.  No, I am thinking.

Daddy:  Ok...what are you thinking?

Charlie: About the tricks I'm going to do on the sheep.  I'm thinking maybe a flip.

 

Clearly the bareback riding did not have him second guessing his Mutton Busting debut.  Just a few riders in, Jason and Charlie headed down to the tunnel, leaving me, Grandma, Grandpa and Uncle Jim to try to wait patiently...and me to watch the calf roping more studiously than ever before in an attempt to avoid picturing broken arms and concussions...Jason's text from below didn't exactly help...

 

Ready to Ride

 

Finally it was time.  Grandma and I raced to the rail to get good shots while Charlie waved from the sea of cowboys down below.

 

So little but feels so big!

 

There was no turning back now...

 

(Please ignoring the crazy screaming mom...)









Daddy: Good job, buddy!  What did you think?

Charlie: Can I do it again? I think I can go further.

Sadly, by the time he made it up to our seats and dumped the dust out of his boots, the very last contestant had beat him by about two yards, and Charlie had decided he no longer liked Mutton Busting, because, "I didn't get the trophy!"

Nonetheless, he could talk about little else the rest of the night and through the day today.

Charlie: So, Dad, does Mutton Busting just mean falling off a sheep?

Clearly, last night is a night that none of us will forget anytime soon...but the best part that Jason and I chatted about when we were too amped up to fall asleep, is to think of how many more ridiculously fun times we have ahead of us!

Official action shot at the following link:  http://dudleydoright.smugmug.com/Rodeo2013/Southwestern-International/ElPaso2013-Sunday-afternoon/31145054_SCTpfd/2/2696313926_rK9mS46/Medium

Hmmm...at this point I'm not sure whether he will be a multicultural, musical prodigy or just a complete goofball...I suppose it could go either way...

Breaking the Rules

I am a stickler for naps, even at four years old.  Jason and I have just found that all three of us are happier if Charlie gets even a little bit of sleep mid-afternoon.  The time varies based on our activities -- as does the location -- but it never fails: if Charlie naps we have delightful evenings; if he doesn't bedtime seems like a distant dream.

Weekends are always the hardest, though.  Our standard rule is that whether or not he sleeps, Charlie has to spend at least one hour "resting" and another playing quietly in his room. (And yes, this is at least as much for me as him -- but I figure that I figure he gets a lot of his personality traits from me, so I'm probably much more pleasant when I've had my "me-time").

So I'm sure Charlie was downright shocked this afternoon when I opened his door a mere hour into nap, acknowledged that he hadn't slept and told him to get up and go help his dad in the yard.  We had a bit of a tussle when he wanted to wear his church pants out (they apparently double as safari-pants due to their color), but came to a compromise when he unearthed an old pair.

Imagine his surprise and Jason's and my delight when Charlie walked out to find his brand new tire swing house-warming gift from Texas instead of chores.  Grandma and Grandpa are officially the coolest people in the world for at least the rest of the day -- to say nothing of Mom and Dad who managed to hang the crazy thing without a ladder and without killing each other.

I guess once in a while some rules are meant to be broken (at Mom's discretion of course).

Dear Charlie,

My dear, sweet boy, you are going to be wrong in your life much more often than you'd like to admit. I know this because it's true of everyone since Adam, but more importantly because as much as you look like your father, you take after your mother in many ways...

So I have some very important advice for you: anytime there is a problem, anytime there is a question, anytime there is a disagreement, anytime there is confusion, before you waste your time worrying about, blaming or accusing another double check your facts...

You see, July 2013 was the first full month that we had renters in the Summerville house.  We found a beautiful family who are kind, honest and excited to live in the home we love so much, and especially after some of our other prospects, your Dad and I are extremely grateful for this family.

The first rent payment was due on July first, but the father called on the second to let us know they'd forgotten to mail it over the weekend, so it would not arrive until the third (still well within the grace period of the lease).  Knowing the terms of the lease, Daddy and I were comfortable and impressed that they'd called so soon.

But then the check didn't come on the third, and of course July fourth is a holiday, and the check still didn't come the fifth or the sixth.  Daddy decided to wait through the weekend until today (July eighth), but when we checked the mail there was still no payment.  We were very concerned.

Daddy and I had both thought very highly of this family and wanted to be gracious and kind and understanding, but we also knew this wasn't a very promising start to a rental relationship.  And to be frank, without their rent we could not afford to pay the mortgage on the Summerville house...so we needed that payment.

After checking the mail this evening, Daddy called the father who then called the mother who was not at home, but knew for a fact that she had mailed the check on the second.  As Daddy and I waited for the call with the address and details of her payment (thankfully the mother is very detail oriented and saved her shipping documents), Daddy decided to check the lease to verify that there were not any additional addresses that may have confused her (since we had repurposed a friend's lease). 

There were not, but there was another glaring problem.  Mommy had typed the wrong address in the payment section.  Rather than ending in a 2, I had ended the house address in a 6.  For almost a week Daddy and I have wondered and worried over a missing rent payment that I had had mailed to the wrong house.

Obviously, I am embarrassed to admit that I didn't verify the payment address on the lease. (Not an excuse but a sad fact: I'm not a very detail oriented person and horrible about proof reading.) Additionally, I am terribly regretful that my mistake led your father to make a "collections" call to our renters who had done everything right.

At four years old, there is no way you can really learn from mistake, but in the midst of my humiliation something occurred to me -- despite being a forum for funny stories and cute pictures, this blog is primarily for you.  It's your baby book.  It's your history.  It's a record of Daddy's and my love for you that I hope you'll have until you're old and gray.  By sharing my mistake in this forum in the hopes that you will one day read through all these stories and anecdotes and conversations, maybe you will be quicker to scrutinize yourself than others and therein save yourself, your wife and others all sorts of headaches and embarrassment over the years.  I sure hope so.

All my love,
Mommy

P.S.  And yes, as always, God is more merciful to me than I expect.  The address I provided was that of our new next door neighbors, whom we had yet to meet before this evening.  They are a delightful older couple named Bobby and Geri who have been traveling for the past week.  The mailman should bring all their held mail tomorrow, so they have not had the chance to question, throw away or send back the envelope addressed to your Daddy at their address.  We should be able to call the renting family tomorrow and let them know their check is safely deposited despite my mistake and lengthy delay in recognizing it.

So thoughtful

Charlie: May I pleeeeassse take a picture?
Mommy: Yes.  But be careful not to touch the lense.
Charlie: I'll take a picture of myself

Charlie proceeds to stand by the desk and take many, many pictures...

Mommy: You sure are taking a lot of pictures?
Charlie: Yeah.  It's so if you miss me you can see me a lot.

Planning Ahead...

Just a little Sunday afternoon fun...

Before & After

Here are the pics of the new house!  We really love it...even Charlie says he loves everything about it.

Clearly it was a lot of work to settle in, but as you can see Charlie did the bulk of it... as soon as he gets a little taller we plan to have him hang all the pictures...

And now for the results of all his hard work...

Man Talk

Charlie: "Dad, I love you. I would not trade you for anything."
Jason: "I love you and would not trade you for anything either."
Charlie: "If I had a different Dad I would love him too and I would not trade him. I sure am glad that I got you though!"

Uggghhh...

Well, I am officially out of the running for mother of the year.  Saturday was Charlie's first off-shore fishing trip, and Jason and I made the grave mistake of thinking I could handle the calm seas at the Off Shore Reef and the Charleston 60...uggghhhhh...

I was fine until we made it past the jetties, but as soon as we hit the rolling waves my stomach hit a wall.  For the next two hours (and/or 2 million years...depending on your perspective) I felt like I was trapped in that moment immediately before you get sick.

Apparently it had been so long since I'd been out in rough water (since I was pregnant with Charlie, actually) that Jason and I had both completely lost touch with reality.  In addition to it being Charlie's first off-shore fishing trip, we took friends and their kids, so their was absolutely no turning back.

For about two hours (aka 2 million years) I was the absolutely worst host ever as I just stared off at the horizon wondering what on earth I had done to make Jason hate me so much and I how I could live with myself realizing that I hated him even more.

As we were circling over the sunken barges, (Yes!  Circling in Rolling Waves!!!),  and I contemplated suicide and/or murder, Robert got a bite and reeled in a nice black sea bass that all three kids took turns touching before they let him go. 

Moments later, Jason noticed a tug on his line, and as soon as he mentioned it Charlie shouted "Fish On!!", raced to the rod and started reeling.  He got the second black sea bass all the way into the boat on his own, but declined to touch this one since the first was slimy.  All the while, two tremendous barracudas were circling the boat -- it was picture perfect. 

Sadly, though, there is not a picture to be had.  There wasn't enough money in the world to get me to stick my head underneath to find the camera or look at that tiny screen.

Finally (and yes, I know that is horrible, but I'm just being honest), sweet little Alice started to feel the waves, too and burst into tears.  All I could think was that she was right, that was the only appropriate response, and I should have started crying long before.

As we turned and headed back in, the ride smoothed out since we were going with the waves and by the time we beached just across from Fort Sumter I was talking again and even ready for some lunch.

I am terribly sorry that I didn't get pictures of Charlie's first ocean fish, and a little bit sorry that I won't be able to help out with him on future expeditions, but to be honest, not that sorry about that.  I've made Jason promise to never ask me to go out again, because I fear that I will stupidly agree thinking it will be better.

Of course, he did mention that even though Dramamine, Bonine and the bracelets have all failed for me, there is prescription nausea medication available.  He then quickly agreed to not mention that again for at least a couple years -- when the horror of Saturday has worn off a little...

Just a moment...

Charlie: Why do you have to close your eyes when you pray?
Mommy: Well you don't have to, but sometimes it's a good idea so you can concentrate on God and not be distracted by what's around you.
Charlie: Oh.  I didn't know that when I was a baby.
Mommy: As you grow up you're going to learn lots of new things.
Charlie: Yep.  And when I grow up all the things you teach to me, I'll teach to my son.

Last Batter

Sometimes everything just falls into place to turn a common occurrence into a spectacular event...and Friday night was one of those times.

See, it all started Friday evening on the way to T-Ball.  Charlie asked me to tell him a story and pretty much all of my stories star Curious George as a blatant stand-in for Charlie himself.  In Friday's story George was the smallest member of his t-ball team and often feared that the other kids would laugh at him when he was up to bat because he sometimes missed the ball.  When it was George's turn to bat he did miss the ball on his first swing and expected to hear laughter, but instead everyone was cheering for him.  When he swung again, the ball went farther than it ever had and George scored a home run with all the ensuing fanfare...and everyone lived happily ever after.

Fast forward to the second inning, and Charlie had the coveted position of "last batter".  New to me this year, but essentially, when the last batter is up the fielding team has to replace the ball on the tee to end the inning.  Sometimes they also field the ball trying to get outs, but more often than not they just take it to the tee.

As happens in any sporting event, the crowd's attention waxes and wanes, but for some reason our whole section suddenly seemed to focus on the game as Charlie came up to bat, so he heard cheers other than just  mom's and dad's as he warmed up. 

After a brief chat with Coach TJ, Charlie swung and managed to smack the tee so the ball actually fell back towards him, but just like in our story, the cheers only got louder.  So he scuffed his feet and swung again, and the ball truly did fly farther than it ever has before -- almost to the pitcher's mound, so Jason's and my cheers were definitely louder than usual.

Charlie started to pull up at first base, but Coach Bill told him to keep on going, so in what I consider the cutest running posture ever (head down, chin out and arms motionless down to the elbows, then swinging below) he powered on to second, then with encouragement on towards home with the crowd roaring and Coach Lopez actually swinging his arm around just like they do in the big leagues.

The look on Charlie's face as he slid into home amidst the cheers was a mixture of shock and pride, and I'm sure Jason's and mine were a mirror of the same -- along with tremendous gratitude.

It wasn't a playoff game, it wasn't the final inning, they don't keep score in t-ball and the ball had actually been on the tee since about second base, but I would argue that in the course of over 6000 years of Creation that moment was just as significant as any final play in any Olympics, World Series, Super Bowl or Final Four.  No one could convince me that millions of dollars, lengthy contracts or fancy tropies bring more joy or build character better than a little boy trying his hardest and through the mercy and love of friends, family and strangers, exceeding his wildest dreams.

Sweet

It's no secret that our house is a wreck with random gadgets and gizmos all over the place...especially the dining room.  On the way up to rest this afternoon Charlie and I just had the sweetest conversation...

Charlie: Mom, what's that tiger game?
Mom: What tiger game?...Oh, that?  That's a cake pan.
Charlie: Can I have it?
Mom: Buddy, it's really just to bake in.  I used it to make your sock monkey cake for your first birthday.
Charlie: Well, when I grow up can I give it to my wife?
Mom: Of course, Buddy.
Charlie: Or I could keep it and use it myself.
Mom: Yes, you could.

I really love this boy.

What to do...

when you find yourself whining about the blessings in your life?

Take a break and enjoy the spring with one of your favorite boys.

It's hard...

I now have new-found respect for military wives and women whose husbands are transferred frequently.  Being a good mom when moving is really hard -- and we're just moving from Summerville to West Ashley.  I really don't know how these ladies that have to move cross country every couple of years keep their sanity or why anyone (us included) would choose to move without a really good reason (like saving the world, escaping a plague or something...)

I'm approximately two weeks into packing and by the looks of my house I have about two years left to go.  Granted, I only pack for a couple hours per day in an effort to maintain a relationship with my son and prevent him from becoming a complete couch potato, but it's tough. 

You start taping together one box and trying to figure out how to cram 48 coffee cups into it without breaking any and the next thing you know Curious George is over... 

(Don't tell Jason, but I am finally realizing that he has a pretty legitimate argument when he says no one needs 6 complete sets of dishes -- even if one was her Grandma's, one is Christmas, one is her wedding china, etc...)  Sadly, it appears all but a few odd plates will make it to the new house...you just never know when you might need extras...)

I am proud to say, though,  that I'm finally throwing away half of the left over embossed napkins from our wedding and all of the wine labels we saved from the wine of the month club (I'm not sure what we really thought we'd do with them anyway...).  

And to be honest, I'm debating chucking all our yearbooks.  Seriously, what possible use could we ever have for 13 years of bad pictures?  I haven't been able to commit to that one yet, though.

Ok, my break is over.  Charlie negotiatied (yes...I know it's terrible, but he's really good at it and I'm feeling weak today) for an additional 10 minutes before nap because he is using a ski rope and ultimate frisbee to save lives from his swingset -- he's in the Coastguard today (his poor wife will ave to move A LOT).  But it's already been 14 and a tired Charlie is a mean Charlie...

I'm assuming this goes without saying, but clearly if I'm struggling to find enough hours to be a good mother, there is precious little time to be a good blogger, so you'll have to forgive any extended silences (even you, Mom!).