Proud playground mama

Allow me to indulge myself as I boast about how I have the most clever little boy in the world. We went to Chick-fil-a for dinner and Ian wanted to play in the playground. He wasn't able to make it up the steps by himself so I had to squeeze myself into the equipment to hoist him up each step. It was no easy task and I was getting a little claustrophobic. But he was so excited about the slide, I hated to tell him no. So after I helped him up twice, he figured out how to climb the steps himself. If he went over to the edge versus the middle, he could get his hands on the far side and help pull himself up. So suddenly I could just sit on the bench, drinking my iced tea and he was able to go up and down the slide a million times on his own.

It pleased me to no end to see how well he could communicate and how I could help him without even seeing him by tapping on parts of the equipment to direct him towards the slide (it's a rabbit warren up there, trust me). This part? This talking and problem solving and finding joy in accomplishing things? This part is the Terrific Twos.

Goal!

Uncle Lee asked Daddy yesterday if we had gotten Ian "cheese cutters" yet. At first I thought, "the kid just learned how to use a fork, let's not expect him to work in the kitchen yet!" but then realized they were talking about skates. Ian is fascinated with hockey. That should come as no surprise. I'm typing this right now as a random hockey game in playing on the TV. (Toronto @ Dallas. Tied 2-2 so I should care more about the last two minutes of the game.) We have our own goal and sticks and pucks that are permanent parts of the living room decor. But I hadn't really thought about him actually playing the game versus just swatting a puck around under the sofa.

Ian and Uncle Lee played quite a bit of hockey on the back porch after Thanksgiving dinner and I'm not sure who was smiling more. Every time he scored a goal (knocking the tennis ball through the propped open screen door) Ian would yell GOAL! and wave his stick in the air. The stick he's now using is a Philadelphia Flyers stick that belonged to both Daddy and Uncle Lee when they were little.

So maybe he will be ready to try out the ice soon. But he's certainly learning a family tradition and having fun.

What two-year-olds are thankful for

Daddy saw this as we came to pick up Ian yesterday afternoon yesterday and said, "well awesome."

I would have paid Ian's teachers $100 to write Daddy up there instead of Mommy, but what's done is done. Ian is slowly but surely moving into the Daddy Appreciation Club but he is still very much the President, Vice President, Treasurer and Secretary of the Mommy Fan Club. And it's hard because sometimes Ian can be very frustrating to communicate with and Daddy isn't getting those 'yay!" moments to outweigh the "boo!" moments.

But just today while we were stopping for gas on our trek to Richmond, Ian turned to me and said, "Mommy?"

"Yes, Ian." "I want Daddy!" "Daddy is right outside the car. Do you want him to come back so you can see him?" "Yeah!"

So we're getting there. And at least he wasn't shown up on the thankful list by toy trucks or Mickey Mouse.