Big Love

It was just the little man and I this weekend as the husband was out on business. After a full fun day of swim lessons, ice cream and a trip downtown to a new interactive dinosaur exhibit, the little man and I were snuggling on the couch watching a movie. It had been a busy day, so I welcomed the calm and warm snuggles.

The little man looked down to my ring finger and touched my wedding ring. He ran his little finger around it.

"Momma, are you mawrrried?" He asked.

"Yes, I am. I'm married to daddy," I replied.

"And daddy ... he's mawrrried too?" He asked.

"Yes, mommy and daddy are married to each other, just us." I said.

"Why do people get mawrrried?" The little man asked as he shifted to look up at me.

"Well ... people get married when they love each other," I said. "Then they have little babies, like we had you."

The little man sat in silence. I could tell his little mind was racing.

"Momma?" He finally said. "I wanna get mawrrried, too."

"Oh, you will someday," I said. "I promise."

"But .... But ..." the little man started.

"What, buddy?" I asked.

"I want to mawrrry Nana!" The little man said with a big grin. "Nana!"

I laughed.

"Well buddy, Nana is already married." I explained. "Nana is married to grandpa."

The little man's face quickly turned serious.

"Well grandpa can share." He said matter-of-factly.

And with that, the little man turned back to his movie.

And I was content to leave that explanation for another day.

Little Fish

Growing up, my brother and I were always at the pool. My mother loved to swim, so we were both introduced to the water at a very young age.

My mother loves to tell the story of how when I was a baby people would remark about the criss-cross tan lines on my back from my swimming suit and some of my earliest memories are of my mother throwing nickels into the pool so that I could dive down under the water and pick them up.

"I'm a little fish, look at me momma," I would always remark as I surfaced with a hand full of nickels.

The little man is definitely no stranger to water and has dipped his feet in a few lakes, pools and even the ocean on more than one occasion. While we have played with him in the water and have touched on some basics, like kicking his legs in the water, my intention was to always get him in to swim lessons very early so that he, too, could be a little fish.

At least that was my intention.

Then one day I looked up and my little baby was suddenly 4. Time definitely flew by.

As if the time ticking by wasn't motivation enough to finally research local swim lessons, my motivation was increased by the little man's increasing interest in our neighbor's pool and the fact that our family has plans to sail the high seas on a very big "toot-toot boat" (a.k.a. cruise ship) later this summer. (A toot-toot boat that boasts a very large swim area just for people the little man's size.)

So, after some quick Internet research, the little man was officially enrolled in his first swim lessons.

From the very first lesson it was apparent that my child was not going to be afraid of the water. Blowing bubbles, sticking his face in the water, even floating on his back and learning the necessary arm and leg motions to swim were no challenge to him.

And he met each challenge with a great big smile.

His first swim test would come this week - the deciding factor about whether or not he passed this first level and was cleared to move on to the next one.

And, of course, he met the challenge once again with a great big smile.

As he was handed his certificate and reward of fruit snacks, the little man could barely hold in his excitement.

"You did a very good job, buddy," I said as I congratulated him.

"Momma, did you see me?" He asked.

"Oh yes, I'm very proud of you," I said.

The little man smiled.

"I like that you use that word, momma," he said. "Proud."

I paused and smiled back.

"Of course I'm proud of you baby," I said as I hugged him.

"You're my little fish."

What is Sweeter than Easter Candy, You Ask?

{The little man and his cousin partner in crime}

Why?

There's been one question that has been on the little man's mind as of late.

It is constantly there ... always at the forefront of his mind.

And no one seems to have the answer, for one answer just brings about another round of questions. A vicious cycle, of sorts.

Why?

Because the little man had entered the ever-famous "why" stage.

Why?

Because he is 4. And 4-year-olds are very curious creatures.

Why?

Because it's a natural part of growing up and becoming more aware of the world around us.

Why?

Because the world is an interesting place. And there is so much to learn about it.

Why?

Because you can never learn too much.

Why?

Because it is good to expand our minds.

Why?

Because it makes us smarter, more in tune with everything that goes on around us.

Why?

Because when we learn something, we grow as individuals.

Why?

Because.

Why?

Because God made us and the world that way ...

... why?

The Force

I've written before that as the mother of a boy, I am quickly learning that some things are just inherent to boys.

Trucks.

Trains.

Tractors.

And now Star Wars.

The little man has recently discovered Star Wars. From the first moment he gazed upon a TIE Fighter and heard his first R2-D2 beep-dwoooop-beep, he has been hooked.

I had thought we still had at least few more years before he would succumb to the force, but apparently I was wrong.

Little boys LOVE Star Wars.

Although I do have to admit that his latest Star Wars obsession has been handy.

Did you know R2-D2 loves to eat peas?

{He does now, at least as far as the little man is concerned at the dinner table.}

A brand new Star Wars spaceship also comes in mighty handy when your 4-year-old needs to have stitches removed from his chin ... especially when he is not happy to be back at the hospital that gave him said stitches.

But the promise of a Star Wars surprise was enough to keep him at least moderately still while the nurse worked.

However, I should not have been surprised - the force does run in our family. My brother also succumbed to the force as a young child. My brother loves all things Star Wars and was glad to hear that his nephew has discovered his great love.

Although he lives a few states away, he and his family will be visiting this week.

And I'm sure to find a Jedi Master and his young Padawan sitting before the DVD player all weekend.

Sunshine

For us, this has been one of the snowiest and coldest winters in a very long time. Maybe we have just been spoiled as of late with mild winters, but this season Mother Nature is definitely showing us her power.

Which made our yearly winter beach getaway that much more fun.

This year Nana and Grandpa couldn't make the trip, so we recruited some very dear friends of ours and their 8-month-old son to join us. Since they call Chicago home, it also didn't take too much convincing of them to ditch the heavy winter coats and hats for a few days of sand and sun.

Even before we approached the subject with the little man, he began asking around Christmastime when we would be going to the beach this year. It seems we have created a little beach monster.

{Of course, I guess he did have to get it from somewhere.}

So, a few weeks ago, we boarded the airplane and set off to sunnier places. We were greeted by the palm trees and the sun shining high in the sky. And the minute our feet hit the warm, white sand, all of the work and daily life responsibilities were quickly forgotten.

We lounged in the sun and dipped our feet in the ocean. Dolphins even greeted us at the beach our first day, while a whole group of them played in the shallow water near the beach.

The little man dug holes, watched them fill with water and hunted crabs. He ran in and out of the waves, laughing as as they hit his chest.

Our last day was cloudy and overcast, but that still didn't stop us from venturing down to the beach for one last sandcastle and glimpse of the ocean.

And one last beach sunset to remember.

Until next year.

911

Our lives have been very busy as of late, hence my lack of posting! Our family had many fun adventures while on our annual getaway to the beach a few weeks ago and have found it hard to get back into the swing of things since returning home from our sunny escape.

Since the days since our return home have been so very busy, we were very much looking forward to a nice, relaxing weekend. When we filed in the door last Friday we were all relived that the week was over and settled in for a quiet night at home.

Not so much.

As the little man stood to get up from the bathtub that night, he slipped and fell, banging his chin on the side of the tub. As the entire scene played out in slow motion, I reached for him, but mommy's hands just weren't quick enough to catch him.

As I pulled him from the tub and sat him down, I immediately began checking his mouth and teeth. I was sure something had split, chipped or cracked.

Fortunately, it wasn't any of his teeth.

But there was a gaping gash on his chin.

Almost as quickly as it had happened, I had the little man dressed, somewhat bandaged up and in the car, headed to a nearby children's hospital that I knew had a 24-hour Urgent Care Clinic.

After a quick triage by the nurse, our fears were confirmed that the little man would indeed be getting stitches.

Although the little man sat contently and watch cartoons, mommy was terrified.

I knew what was coming and knew it wouldn't be pretty.

I sat in the chair, holding back tears. I didn't want to scare the little man or let on just how scared I was for him.

Then, as we waited in the treatment room for the doctor to return and begin the procedure an alarm sounded.

We heard an announcement come across the speaker in the hall, calling a "Code Blue."

There was a rush of footsteps outside the door.

"That doesn't sound good," I said to my husband.

Just then, we heard a knock. It was a nurse telling us that there had been a situation in the clinic that had pulled the doctors and nurses away and that our wait would have to be a little longer.

"Wow," I thought as I sat back in my chair. "Definitely not good."

But, after all, we were in a hospital.

Then it hit me.

We were in a children's hospital. Which meant somewhere just beyond the door the "Code Blue" was a child. A child with much, much more than a split chin.

And another mother, much more terrified than I was.

I immediately glanced over at the little man, still sitting contently on his daddy's lap, watching cartoons (one of the many benefits of a children's hospital - toys and TV's in the treatment rooms).

As he sat there, with a bandage across his chin that made him look like he had a little white beard, I was suddenly oh-so-very-thankful that we were only there for three little stitches.

When the doctor finally returned, the little man put on a very brave face and before we knew it, we were up and headed out the door back home.

As I tucked the little man in that night I couldn't help but give him an extra kiss goodnight.

Followed, of course, by a promise of chocolate chip pancakes, chocolate milk and Star Wars (more on that later) for breakfast.