P, experiencing his first, very own backyard sprinkler moment. He sprayed it straight in BB's eyes. He was very pleased with himself.
My dad sweetly reminded me today that I still have a blog :) P has been going through some (seemingly) rapid changes and challenges the last week, gobbling up my every last bit of energy, patience and problem-solving pride. I'm not sure what's wonky with him, where its coming from (developmental? the rash? growth spurt?) but, true to Little Man form, he seems to feel best when smothered in luuuuuv. Result? Me, off radar ;) Sorry, dad :)))
Working some compost into his garden.
One of my favorite things about living out of the city (hahaha! I think of this as living "out of the city," but our neighbor was just saying something about her "poor little city kids"! I thought, this is the freakin' boonies! But, seriously, the boonies don't have traffic (or foot traffic) and a grocer across the street, so... obviously its all quite relative :) At any rate (oh, could I be more rambly tonight?!), one of my favorite things here is that P can experience "real work." And how much he loves this. Now, don't get me wrong, I luuuuved Brooklyn. But the closest thing he saw to human work there was... E coming home from a long day. Or dishes and mopping. Or going to the market. And though he did dig mopping, most of our bill paying parental parts were not so kid friendly.
Harvesting (and eating;) our raspberries.
One day's "crop."
Here, he is our little shadow. Trim the grape vines up? Lemme do it, Mama!. Mow the yard? I'll push the mower, Papa! Plant the garden? Water the garden? Sweep the porch? Pull the weeds? Harvest the berries? Mash the jam? Feed the compost pile? Double, triple check. He wants to do it Alllll. Hisself.
Helping the neighbor shovel her mulch (with her sons, P's new BFFs:)
Of course, for two perfectionists who like to efficiently finish a task, this extra set of helping hands can feel more hinderance, less help... But that's our issue ;) So, as the occasional bunch of grapes were lost to an extra-zealous trim tonight, I took deep breaths of humus-y earth and told myself not to snatch the clippers.
With the cooler weather, the garden rarely (from a Kansan's point of view) needs a tap top-off, but one warm day, the lettuce and peppers looked kinda wilty, so I dug a sprinkler out of the cellar. Oh the joy of the child. He had grabbed his rain boots and stripped down before I blinked. So we aimed it towards the grassy spot... much to the melon's dismay, and relinquished our petty "perfectionistic" wants :) The child, he quickly decided he loves to "help water the garden" ;) In these moments, E and I give each other loooong, meaningful gazes. The ones that say, "Don't fuck with the kid! He's anxious to help, we don't want to squash this love of doing... even if it ruins the freakin' xy or z...." Oh that we (and our garden, lawn and compost pile) have some small measure of success... At the very least, the kid is having a blast doing some real work :)