Bad Weather

I am just going to say that this weather has gotten me down. If this were February, I could deal. March, even, with a little good-natured complaining. But April 23rd and still wearing a long sleeve shirt, a sweater and wool socks? Not cool. Hail and snow instead of light ocean-kissed breezes? Depressing. I don't think I can maintain this slippery hold on sanity for more than another day of this dreariness.
Yesterday was Earth Day and we braved the elements (a downpour and even a peal of thunder and lightning at one time!) to go to the OSU organic growers' club hooha, as they call it. I have never been to an official hooha before, and I have to say (and maybe it was my addle-brained cabin-fevered rain-drenched state) that it was righteous. I never did see the promised petting zoo, but there was a guy blowing the hugest bubbles, some draft horses plowing the muddy clay, live folk music, and the nicest spread of hippie food (rice and veggies, lentils and tofu and such, hunks of sourdough bread, pickles, and dairy-free ice cream with marionberry sauce) to be scarfed down elbow-to-elbow under sodden tents. But the timing was good; when we got there (after nap, of course), the sun was almost visible and the rain a mere drizzle. The sun even appeared in a moment of glory! Then, just as the food line moved under the tent, the downpour started, and by the time we had warm food in our bellies, it had slowed down to a tolerable drizzle. I think Trevor, little icicle that he was, would have gladly stayed for hours; he doesn't mind the rain or the cold just as long as there's a party and some mud.
I am now sipping a cup of lemon balm tea, wildcrafted from our front border (I did not, would not plant lemon balm!), and it is a freakish plant with leaves the size of my hand. I think the word got out that our border theme is "romp freely," and even though uninvited, how could lemon balm, such a free romper, not crash the party? I just hope l.b. doesn't invite its rowdy friends.

Really Good Movie, Pretty Bad Movie, and the jury's still out on this one.

I have been lucky/ambitious enough to watch 2 3/4 movies this week! Have you seen Into the Wild? I love that movie. It is long but so good. I also watched Good Luck Chuck, which is pretty ridiculous and almost pornographic, with a few almost redeeming funny moments. I am in the middle of the drawn-out process getting through the Darjeeling Limited, a Wes Anderson film, which is interesting if you like this kind of thing. Definitely a slow-mover, which I can appreciate, but have to break it up into chunks, like reading Proust. So I have been watching it in short installments. I think (I hope) I am developing a new movie-watching habit, so give me your suggestions, and I will add them to my list!

We have had a very busy end of March with Todd's brother Scott and his wife Sally visiting; travelling to Portland & Seattle to visit friends, sightseeing at the coast, and whooping it up for Todd's birthday. That is my excuse for taking so long to post anything new; I will now attempt to add as many pictures as possible before I get sick of staring at the computer screen.

Don't Bring a Box of Toys!

There has been much discussion lately about how toys and even playing itself have changed. Toys are for very specific uses, with characters on them, and unstructured play has fallen by the wayside. Check out the story at:
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=19212514

I am not claiming to be supermom, but when I read this article, it seemed, well, obvious. I have intuitively avoided having a million toys for a few reasons, not the least of which being that it gives me greater pleasure to see my son playing imaginitively with a stick or an empty yogurt container than acting out some script from a cartoon movie with a cartoon toy. As for unstructured play, I much prefer it since it takes less energy on my part than organizing activities. If anything, we lack structured activities, unless going for a walk or a bike ride to the park or meeting friends at La Roca for lunch can be considered structured.

On to the important part of this post: You don't have to drag a bunch of toys with you everywhere, and maybe if you do, your kids are going to expect it and not know how to improvise. Here's my story: Last night we went to Todd's boss's house for an intimate sushi party. We brought nothing in the way of entertainment for Trevor, but he had a great time figuring out how to open and close Ken's windows, climbing up and down the furniture (couches, swivel barstools and a kid-sized metal chair), feeding Cassie the dog treats, and grabbing little somethings only he could see off a metal floor lamp and throwing them at the floor and furniture, then putting them back, all while singing karaoke and dancing. Why bring toys?

"Just farts, dad."

The other night, Todd was putting Trevor to bed and he had some noxious gas (Trevor, that is.) Todd asked, did you poop? NO. It happened a few times, with Todd turning on the light and taking a peek several times, until finally Trevor said "Just farts, dad."

Dreams

Almost every morning, I ask Trevor what he dreamed about. The answer is always "Sun" and "Horses."

22 month update

The distance readers of this blog may wonder what our little hero is up to these days. Well, a lot of the obvious stuff that can be expected from an almost-two-year-old. He loves to run and jump and climb, he is learning to share and take turns, and he is starting to string together three words. I have to watch what I say around him, for sure. Case in point: Our usual postal carrier is a woman, but today we watched as a scruff-bearded long-hair drove up instead. I commented that a hippie was delivering the mail today. He repeated "hippie." Later in the evening, we were reading our Richard Scarry book and came to the part about a letter being sent, and Trevor pointed to the mailman (who is actually a raccoon) and called him a hippie!
Trevor is also becoming quite bossy, in sort of a friendly way. He sometimes reminds me of the popular kid at school who is super nice to you as long as you play by his rules. His friend George was over last week, and the boys were playing in the backyard, digging in the garden beds. George decided to move on to something else. Trevor, pointing his trowel at George, demanded "More!" I asked (as I often must), "More what?" His response was "digging."
Parents are not exempt from bossing. Trevor had a fever last night, and I was babying him when he woke up in the middle of the night. He had two binkies, but he asked for more. I think he wanted a certain one, which I had left in my coat pocket in the car. I told him it was in the car, and he said (I'm not sure, because it sounded like some entirely different words, but the inflection was right) "Get it!"
Of course, my response was, I'll get it in the morning, I'm not wearing any shoes right now, etc., you already have two others. Then I thought it would be cool to record some of these conversations between parents and toddlers, where the parents are wildly guessing what the kids are saying. I say "I have no idea what you're talking about" or just "Oh, really" (which means "I have no idea what you're talking about") sometimes, but it seems discouraging to say it too often.
The End.