blue blanket retrieved.

ava's skating coach is the hero of the summer. she rescued the blanket, put it in the front seat of her car, and now we can go get it first thing in the morning. she gave me explicit directions to the location of her car as well as a lot of advice regarding dealing with ages 2-6...

peter got a new blanket too.

so, i mobilized the troops, and we won the battle.

jeez. this is exhausting. particularly emotionally.

i left the blue blanket at the ice-skating rink.

i am going to cry. carter has not noticed, god bless him, because he was so tired all he could do was cry all the way home, which is why i left it there in the first place because he was a total mess and i was trying to get ava's skates off, her bag packed, sippies put away, all while he was running in place and crying over something, oh i know--he wanted to nurse--and we got out of there as fast as i could and yet i had this funny feeling...

35 minutes later, as we were 10 minutes from home, i remembered.

i put in a call to ava's coach, but it really is not her responsibility, and i put in a call to peter, hoping against all hope that he was going to take the long way home from plattsburgh and go through lake placid. it is not likely.

no one has returned my calls. i cannot believe how worked up i am, but i feel like there is a brick in my stomach.

how to disappoint your children 101.

Linus—oh, I mean, Carter—has attached himself to a blue blanket that Nana originally made for Helena, Ava’s doll. This has caused some issues with Ava, who rightfully claims ownership, but who has been remarkably tolerant because she knows just how much the color blue means to Carter. I was in the basement rooting around the other day, and was so relieved to find the super soft fuzzy blue receiving blankets that Grandma sent us when Carter was itty bitty. So now we have 3 blue blankets, which Carter is completely obsessed with. He lays them out on the floor and says “night night,” he drags them around outside, he even insisted on having Helena’s blanket in the car with him today. It was 86 degrees out and he carefully draped it over his lap, tucking it in and bundling himself up. He was drenched in sweat, but had a blissful smile on his face. Every time he goes to sleep he must have them, and they have to be draped wrinkle free on his pillow. When he cannot find one, he will run up to me, saying “bue bue bue bue? Bue…” and if I do not immediately respond, say if I am on the floor tying Ava’s shoe, he will bend over so that he is looking up at my downturned face, put his hands on my cheeks and turn my head to his and look me square in the eye and say “Bue. Bue. BUE!” I usually tell him where I think it is, and sometimes he returns triumphant, “BUE!!!!” and sometimes he returns with hands upturned and head shaking no..”bue…uh uh.”
The security blanket thing is new to me—Ava never had anything that resembled a “transitional object.” I guess she figured Mom was there, why transition? I can understand it of course—tons of children have them, but it is so endearing. And yet so time consuming. But more significant is the absolute obsession with the color blue. It has been going on for a while now, and he really is completely totally obsessed. He will walk up to perfect strangers, point to his blue shirt, blue pants and blue shoes and tell the listened that they are blue, each one. Ava loved red, and now pink, and I loved green, one of her friends loved purple at 18 months, still does, another yellow…I find it interesting the color preferences that are established so early and so vehemently. Why? Is there something about these colors that the individual children respond to? And Carter’s obsession is pretty unique. There are favorite colors, and then there is Carter’s love for blue. I am fairly certain that at least 2/3 of the day is spent thinking about blue. He will even stop a very interesting activity (ie nursing) to point to the sky and say “bue,” even if there is only a teeny tiny patch.
The other third of the day is spent trying to Be Just Like Ava. Everytime he does something the way she does it, even if it is sticking his tush in the air after going potty so mommy can clean him up, he will say “Ava ava ava ava” until I say, “that’s right Carter, now you are just like Ava!” – Everything she does, he wants to do. He wants to eat at the little table, not the big one. He wants to swim like her. He wants to dance like her. He totally adores her.
And of course, he still adores rocks. Really adores them. He will notice rocks smack dab off the bat, where I probably would never have even registered that there were decorative pebbles lining a path. He stops dead in his tracks to point out a big rock, and likes to carry them around. I suppose if kids have a favorite color, perhaps they also have a favorite element (in an ancient sense, not in a periodic table sort of a way). I am trying to remember Ava’s. Water was not always a favorite, though it is now. Rocks never did much for her, and fire also was interesting, but eh. Air? Seems a little tough to quantify, and if it were so, one would think she would like the windows open in the car. Noooooo. I guess it would have to be water. But not the way Carter loves rocks. Funny how their preferences seem almost completely innate.

Today we continued the hunt for toad food. I told Ava that if she stumbled across any small bugs, to let me know and we would try to capture them for the toad. This of course segued into a full-on bug search—under rocks, under logs, under the compost bin, under just about any large heavy object we could find. We managed to find a little millipede-y looking thing, 2 beetle-y/wormy shiny looking things and one errant ant. Since ants are so abundant in our sandy soil, we were eschewing them for more interesting and hopefully more tasty toad treats. We were pretty disappointed, and then I had a brainstorm. I told Ava that after we fed Maggie, Nana’s dog that we were babysitting, we could go to the hardware store and get some “live bait.” Now, I laugh at the live bait stores around here. They are so ubiquitous and so, I don’t know, typical—make that stereotypical, and it just makes me giggle. Not to mention that our town clerk’s office—the office where we had to go to get our marriage license—is a desk in the back of a tackle and bait shop. That’s right—to get our marriage license, we first had to walk past the refrigerator of nightcrawlers. But, finally, they were going to prove to be useful to me. Not that I was going to give our teeny tiny toad an earthworm that could eat him in one gulp, but I figured they had to have some small worms there too. The hardware store only had the mega-worms, so they directed us to the local outdoors shop and we snagged ourselves a tube of grubs (ahhhhhhhhh!), and a tub of nightcrawlers because Ava could not contain herself and literally held it to her chest and said “Mom, I REALLY want to keep these for a pet.” Oh, fine. So we got back to the car, did a little looking at one of the earthworms, to which Carter said “eeeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhh” which means big, and then we went to the strawberry patch.
Strawberry patch=bliss for the kids. It was so cute—they don’t use any chemicals, so you have to sort of peer through the tall grass to find the berries, and Carter would sit down in a patch and all you could see was his little head peeking up through the grass. It took him about 2 seconds to catch on, and he would often come over to me and show me his eeeeeyyuuuuuuuuuhhhhh berry and then ask me to take the leaves off so he could eat it. Ava spent most of the time chasing butterflies, and I picked 3 pounds of berries. Not a mother lode, but enough for us.
When we got back in the car, Ava asked to see her worms again. She then asked if she could play with one on the way home. I hedged, and then thought, what’s the harm? It is not like they (the kids) are squeaky clean, and we have 12 worms, and it certainly is not going to bite her, so ok.
Doooo deee doooo….driving down the road, half way home…la la la….
“Oh no! MOMMY!”
“What happened Ava?”
“It broke in half!”
Mom, unable to stop laughing, “OK, well, you are going to have to throw it out the window.” Ava started to laugh, fortunately. I rolled down the window and she flung it out. I then explained to her that earthworms are NOT like gummi worms, and she had to be gentle and kind. She sat in silence for a few minutes.
“Ava? Now how many worms do you have?”
“Ummmm…” (whispering to herself) “ummm one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve…” (now loudly) “ELEVEN!”
“Yes! That’s great Ava!”
Earthworms are not just for science anymore.
Yesterday, Carter was in the bathroom flushing the toilet. He takes pride in this step, and usually does it 4 or 5 times, waving goodbye to his now long gone creation each time. Sometimes he slams the seat down each time, then lifts it up again to see what happened. For some reason, Ava was interested in this, and she was in there chatting with him, while I was just outside the door sweeping or something. Flush…BANG! Flush…BANG! Flush…THUMP…AAHHHHHHhhhhhh!!!!!!!! Mommmmmmyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
Before Ava emerged from the bathroom, I was already convulsing with the giggles, because I knew exactly what had happened, and when she did come out holding her head she was so worked up that all she could do was squeak out something that was totally incomprehensible to anyone but a dolphin, and I was trying not to laugh as she was really upset and probably in a lot of pain, but I could not help shaking as I hugged her to me. After she calmed down, I tried once again to ask her what had happened, but I could not get it out without snorting and giggling again, and when she looked at me in shock, I apologized, and tried to gather up a straight face. But I couldn’t and I started laughing again. And that is when she looked at me and burst into laughter through her tears. I was finally able to say, “Ava, I know that hurt, but that was a very funny way to get hurt. Not everyone can say that their brother hit them in the head with a toilet.”
And the giggles keep coming. After Carter woke up from his nap, I was sitting outside with him in the Adirondack chair rocker that has a drink holder in it, and Ava was standing in front of us, drinking her (decaf) tea from a travel mug that fit perfectly into the drink holder. Carter was grumpy as usual, and was nursing through his post-nap disappointment, and I said something to Ava along the lines of “Hey, wasn’t it funny when you did something something something…?” pretty much at the same time as she took a huge swig of tea. I have no idea what it was that was so funny, but it must have been, because when I triggered the memory in Ava’s mind, she screwed her face up as the laugh came through her, desperately trying not to spit out her tea, but then she exploded and tea spewed everywhere, all over me (and Carter). She looked at me in total horror, and then I started roaring, and she let loose. It was her first initiation into that particular phenomenon, and it was great.

did i mention we have a toad? it eats bugs. tonight, after the kids went to bed, i put on my jacket (it's chilly today), and headed for the door.

peter: where are you going?

erin: i have to catch some ants for the toad

peter: you have to catch ants?

erin: well, it has to eat, right?

peter: does it eat them?

erin: i think so. they are not there in the morning, and the toad is still alive...either that or they are escaping.

off i went, got the ants, fed and watered the toad, and put him back in their room.

peter (shaking his head): you are an incredible mother.

smile.

Ava got her first bike a few months ago, and was SO EXCITED, but then she fell on her elbow twice and has been frightened of it ever since. Then yesterday I had an idea. We loaded up with bike and trike, drove to the high school, and rolled over to the track, a perfect oval with looooong straight sides, requiring no elbow-crunching turns, and off she went. Lo and behold, bike riding is fun! She went ALL THE WAY AROUND and she nearly floated away on a cloud of excitement and pride. She ran over to me with arms in the air and a huge grin, screaming “I did it!!” – We then explored the sand pits for the long jump, and both kids had a great time trying to do it. Ava said “I love this run and jump game, mom!” The funny part about it was that she and Carter both ran full tilt to the sand, screeched to a halt, then jumped. They just could not figure out how to leap while running. They did not even realize that they were not doing what I was doing. Not that I was the best example. I don’t bounce.

Ava is a riot to talk to. I will start a story, and get to a part like: “And then we had to move, with a pregnant cat, to Pennsylvania, but first we had to go to South Carolina to stay at my grandmother’s house because our PA house was not ready,” and she will suddenly, very seriously and very intently interrupt, and say “oh, yes yes…I have been to South Carolina…it is so beautiful there. Really gorgeous.” Completely deadpan, completely 100% convincing.
I just stare at her when she does this. It is like talking to someone at a cocktail party.

Carter calls her Evi or Avi. It is very cute. Mama…Mommy. Dada…Daddy. Ava…Avi. Logical.