Happy Boy

Seven, Eight, Nine, Stupid

In the bathtub tonight, I asked Andy to count to ten, and then it would be time to turn the water off. How high to fill the tub is a matter of contention between us. I prefer it halfway full; he'd prefer to flood the bathroom floor. Tonight, Andy seemed strangely complacent with my request to turn off the faucet. He looked at me, sweet as pie, and counted to nine. Then he grinned a little wider, and, staring brazenly, whispered "stupid."

That impish grin! He knew what he was doing.

I can't believe I missed that grin this weekend. Mike and I enjoyed our first weekend away since becoming parents two and a half years ago. Our time away was peaceful, relaxing...all the words you can think of that are never associated with parenthood. But something strange happened: we got bored. We missed our little spitfire.

We came back to hear some interesting stories from Grandma and Pap-Pap. Andy was not shy, and over the course of the weekend revealed his full spectrum of moods and true colors. He was up several times at night, asking for juice. He refused to wear some of the outfits he himself packed, because "they did not match." But my favorite quote from the weekend is "Pap-Pap sadded me." (Upon being told he must come inside).

His capacity to frustrate and confuse us, delight and amuse us, grows greater every day.

Just before we left, he told me, "That is a pretty shirt, mommy." And today, I heard, "You are pretty, mama." (This was not precipitated by bribery, and he didn't want a thing, I swear!)

I am even strangely pleased to hear him shout, "I am angry with you!" (No repressed emotions in this child!) If he can keep the word "angry" and skip the word "hate" during his teenage years, he'll be doing much better than I did.

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Separately...

CONGRATS JACOB on a successful opening weekend in Les Mis! I'm so proud of you, and wish like anything I could have been there to see your performance as Javert. BREAK A LEG!

Thomas and His Friends

Last Saturday was a busy day for Andy. His first bus ride, first St. Patrick's Day Parade, and first stage show: Thomas Saves the Day. The weather was a bit nippy (mid 20's) and as we were walking to the bus stop we were wondering if we had lost our minds. We parents, that is. Andy was too busy making footprints in the snow to notice the cold. Luckily, the bus came quickly. When we got on, we noticed a lot more green and a lot more noise than normal. A bunch of St. Patty's Day revelers were headed downtown to hit some Irish pubs. We naively thought the traffic would be coming out of town since the parade was winding down.


Downtown, we caught the tail end of the parade. According to Andy, the highlight was "the hotdog truck" (the Oscar Mayer Weiner-mobile), but there were plenty of marching bands, bag pipers, and firetrucks. Supposedly, it's the second largest parade in the country. With all that to distract us, we didn't feel the cold at all. We caught an underground train (another first) to the Benedum Center and found our seats. As you can see, Andy had a Thomas flashlight to wave at Thomas (picture from cell phone camera).

Here's another cell phone picture I'm using as my background. I asked Andy to smile, but he thought he'd look better this way.

Mr. Cheese

This weekend the temperature was in the 60's so we walked to downtown Squirrel Hill for dinner and ice cream. Andy was able to wear a baseball cap instead of his usual Siberian headwear.

Andy really enjoys puzzles of the 50 states. We tell him the state names, but he prefers his own observations, like "That man is laughing!" (Happy Abe) or "There is a fish on the grass! How can that be?"

A Beautiful Life

Some might say she died of a broken heart. My grandmother, Lois Grace Long Elwell, died peacefully in her sleep last night. She lost the love of her life only two months ago.

I consider myself lucky to know a handful of people who love me unconditionally. My parents and husband are three of those people. My grandmother Lois was another. If she loved you, you knew it deeply, and could feel it down to your bones. She loved her whole family that way: intensely, passionately, affectionately. You knew it because there were tears in her eyes when she greeted you, and tears in her eyes when you left. Her embraces were long and warm. She had a habit of awaiting your arrival from the window of her home, and lingering there, in her doorway, long after you left.

My last memory of visiting her is so poignant. Andy and I stayed in a Warm Beach guest cottage for a few days after Pop passed away. The last night I had to leave Gram, I didn't want to say goodbye. She was reclining comfortably in her chair, and asked me to place a special quilt over her to keep her warm. The patchwork in this quilt was comprised of photographs of her family, different snapshots of her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren in time. Her son-in-law's sister made this for her, a truly wonderful gift for a woman who was almost as passionate about quilting as she was of her family. I kissed Gram goodnight, bundled warm with her memories, knowing an aide would come in shortly to help her into her bedclothes. I didn't expect her to get up.

Andy and I put our coats on (it was very cold north of Seattle), and we walked out to the car. After I strapped Andy in to his car seat, I glanced back at the lobby of Gram's apartment building. There she was in her orange-red quilted jacket, cane in her hand, watching us from the window. At 86 years old, having suffered several strokes, getting up was always an effort. She could have easily dozed off in her recliner. But there she was, seeing us safely off, a final gesture of her love.

When I drove just across the street to the cottage, I could still see her white hair and orange jacket. I waved. I don't know if she saw me. Andy and I walked inside, and I peeked out the window. She stayed in the lobby, looking out the window, for some time.

That was how she was. She made time stop when you visited her. A warm and gracious host, she had bread baking in the oven, and crafts planned for her grandchildren: origami boxes from old greeting cards, felt stuffed animals. I remember her stroking my hair as an awkward 14 year old, telling me I was beautiful, and almost believing it because I knew that she did.

When she stayed with us grandkids for two weeks while my parents were in Europe, she listened as I talked about my teachers, and the new ideas I was learning. I can't believe I asked her this, but I did: what did she think of overpopulation? She paused as she loaded a plate into the dishwasher: "I think that only Christians should have lots of children," she replied. Although her optimistic Christian faith contrasted with my pessimistic world views, there was no conflict between us, because she was not a critical or judgmental person. I felt that I could talk to her about anything.

At our most recent visit, she told me that I should have another baby. When Gram brought five babies into the world, she trusted in God that all their needs would be met (and they were). Her motto, written in crosstitch and hanging in her living room: "Use it up, wear it out, make do, do without." She reused and recycled before the words were popular with my generation. She sewed her own and her children's clothing, curtains, quilts and pillows. She insisted on having a sewing machine and table set up in her apartment, long after she was physically able to work with it. She loved to dream about it.

She also valued education. Having earned her own Bachelor's degree, she wanted her children to be college educated. After her five children were grown, she taught sewing classes at the local college.

Gram loved to garden. She loved watching flowers grow and bloom. She looked forward to the spring, even after she lost Pop, because she wanted to plant in her new patio garden.

Gram's unconditional love and eternal optimism are her most enduring traits. Having lost her, I am inspired to pick up her torch...and bring another life into the world.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

What a difference a week makes! Last Saturday, Andy was shoveling snow and today there's none to be found...

Do you think Andy needed a haircut? He was "a little bit brave" getting a haircut today. The balloon and candy made it all worth while. The astute observer will notice the left eye bruise due to a bad tumble. Hopefully we'll pick up some smooth moves at Courtney's gymnastic meet today