Big Boy

Finn could not be convinced to leave Scout at home as we were headed to the park, so I loaded them both up into the wagon and off we went. There were big boys playing at the park when we got there (brothers: 2 1/2 and 3 1/2 and a baby.  Mom talk over the slide.).  Scout was squeezed extra tight while Finn surveyed the rough and tumble play going on.  He stood on the edge of the playground, one had holding tight to Scout, the other holding tight to me, before he decided that it was okay to join in the fun and he let go of both me and Scout. He laughed and chased the boys around.  They welcomed him as only boys can: with laughter and running and outside voices.  Every so often he would pause and look over at the baby (who was snoozing peacefully in a baby seat in the shade.).  He would point and look at me and say, "Baby?  Baby?"

He is infatuated with all things that are babies these days...at the store, at the park, in magazines and books.  He likes to point out the babies.

He wears his sunnies everywhere when we're outside - and even sometimes when we're inside.  I like to promote good eye health and the fact that he keeps them on his face is awesome.  The fact that he looks so dang cute in them is an added bonus.

His fear level is minimal these days and he likes to do most things for himself.  It's a true test of my patience when I know that we could move things along if he'd just let me help him.  I know that it's smarter to let him learn to do things on his own, though, so I resign myself to tacking an extra 10 minutes onto whatever it is that we're going to do.  On the plus side, he's good about asking me for help when he gets into a predicament.  I have my ear tuned in to his little voice asking for "Hewp!  Hewp!" throughout the day.

I tried to tell him that this ladder was for bigger boys.  He promptly ignored me and taught himself to climb up, with me hovering right behind him, ready to break his fall should he loose his balance.  He never did stumble.  It took a minute for my heart dislodged from my throat and the panic to subside.  He hasn't learned how to climb down the ladder yet (thank God).  He takes the slide down instead, but he will only slide down on his bottom if he's holding my hand; otherwise, he slides down feet first on his belly.

He's such a contradiction sometimes.

I happened to glance over and see a sticker on the play set that said: "Recommended for ages 5 and up."  And then I saw Finn trying to climb up this weird, curvy ladder.  I knew that telling him this, too, was for bigger boys would probably get me nowhere, so I just stood nearby and let him do his learning on his own.

The hardest part about being a mom these days is standing back.
It's also the most rewarding.