New Bike Glow

Still reveling in the glory of his new big boy bike, Evan woke me up this morning with his helemt on (and still in his pajamas), ready to ride. In his sweetest voice he whispered, "Mommy, it's time to wake up, so I can ride my bike-cycle."

The Happiest Boy Alive

Since the weather has been getting nicer the boys and I have been going for walks in the afternoon. Everyday that it wasn't snowing last week, we would bundle up and head out. Evan rode his tricycle while I pushed Eli in the stroller. Both boys loved our walks, so most days we went out twice. Evan, however, has grown A LOT over the past year and his tricycle was suddenly way too small. As he pedaled along down the street his knees were coming just an inch below the handle bars. I mentioned this to Pat and suggested it might be time for a "big boy" bicycle.

So last night, on the way home from Boston, we stopped at Wal Mart and found a beauty of a big boy bike, called the RockIt. Evan fell in love at first sight. After picking out a helmet, he put it on and pushed his bike all the way to the registers. As soon as we got home he helped Daddy check it over and tighten the training wheels. Then he was off and riding. He was nervous at first, it was bigger and harder to pedal, but within five minutes he had the hang of it and was tearing through the house like a pro.

He would stop every few minutes and in his sweetest, most excited voice, thank us for buying him a big boy bike. Then off he'd ride again. One time he stopped and said, "I'm not going to fight with you anymore at Target, or Barnes and Noble, or Lowe's, any of those places". My dream come true! And, while that statement alone would have made the purchase worthwhile, I'm not sure I have ever seen him happier. He was all smiles and his excitement was contagious. Pat and I stood back to soak in the moment as one boy pedaled joyously through the house, and the other tentatively walked behind him.

Happy Easter!

We dyed eggs this morning. Went to Meme and Pepes house for a yummy Easter dinner. And we ate lots of chocolate. Everything Easter should be!

A Little Leprechaun Love!

911

Eli called 911. It happened innocently enough. He loves the phone and managed to get his hands on it. He was in my lap, so I was aware that he had the phone and periodically checked to be sure he wasn't calling anyone. Then to my chagrin I heard the telltale sounds of the phone dialing. I grabbed the phone and hit "END". Eli broke into a loud, raucous scream of anger and disgust at the grave injustice he was served.

The phone rang almost immediately. No caller ID info. Suspicious. But I answered it anyway. Eli seeing me with the phone again was re-angered and began a hearty wail louder than before. I asked the caller to please hold on because I couldn't hear what they were saying. I handed Eli to Hemanth and adjourned to the kitchen so I could hear. To my absolute horror the caller identified herself as "An operator from Manchester City 911". She was calling because they had received a call from our phone.

Embarrassment, nay, humiliation surged through me. I politely explained what had happened (while Eli screamed in the next room) and begged her forgiveness repeatedly. She was kind and professional and assured me it was not a problem. I was feeling pretty small, baffled by the odds that Eli could actually dial 911 and then hit "SEND". Then the phone rang again. This time the caller ID read "Manchester City". Now I was feeling even smaller.

It was yet another operator following up on the 911 call and assuring our safety. I sheepishly recounted the story ... again, then apologized another half dozen times. After I hung up, I jokingly said, they'll probably send a cruiser. They didn't. They sent TWO! Yup. Two cruisers pulled up across the street and then came to our front door with an authoritative knock.

The officers were friendly and professional. They looked us over as I recounted the story for a third time, emphasizing that the baby was crying because I had taken the phone away, and that I had not realized that he had dialed 911. (I checked the redial and there were a dozen numbers on the screen, the first three just happened to be 911) They apparently decided we were alright and went on their way.

My private humiliation was now public for all the neighbors to see. But I was impressed with the protocol and professionalism of all involved. I'm sure I'll probably see another cruiser pass by in a day or two, but I suppose there are worse things.

The Lunchbox

Evan is eating lunch at school now. So each morning this week I packed him a little borwn bag to take to school. Yesterday, however, while I was out shopping I found a very cute monkey lunchbox. I was thinking practically (and environmentally), but for Evan it was love at first sight. He carried the lunchbox through the store, handed it to the cashier long enough for scanning and then took it back. When we got home he took his new lunchbox to bed for his nap. Then proceeded to carry it with him all evening - it rode in the back of his bike, it came to the dinner table, and even sat on the couch so the monkey could watch Evan and Daddy play football. The monkey lunchbox was there for bath time, although not in the tub, and then of course into bed last night. He even had me talk to "Friendly Monkey Lunchbox"as he calls him, but not just 'Hi, How are you?' I had to talk "Alot" to him.

This morning he couldn't wait for me to put his lunch in the box. He instructed me where everything should go and scolded me for putting the jucie on the wrong side. Then he carried his packed lunchbox upstairs so he could get dressed and brush his teeth. Then, finally, the packed lunchbox made it to it's ultimate destination - the lunch box shelf at school. I had feared he would insist on the lunchbox playing with him at school, but it didn't seem to be an issue. When I returned to pick him up this afternoon he was eating his lunch with Friendly Monkey Lunchbox smiling beside him.

First Day of School

Evan began preschool today, and I am happy to announce that he loves it! Upon our arrival this morning, I was nervous, but hopeful. Would he follow directions? Participate with the group? Would he meltdown? Would he have the time of his life? He gave Eli and me kisses goodbye, and without further fanfare I left.

When I returned 3 hours later he was having a snack. When he saw me he happily proclaimed that he was EATING GOLDFISH! Then he told me about painting (one of his favorite activities), the book they read about snowmen, and the cool trucks he got to play with. He was so excited, and so was I. As we put on jacket and boots to leave, Evan went and hugged his teachers goodbye. Yes, my son, the one who demonstrably hates goodbyes hugged his teachers. The same teachers who were strangers to him just hours before.

As we piled into the car, he found Blue Fish, his big stuffed fish from the story One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish by Dr. Seuss, and held him on his lap. As we pulled out of the parking lot he proceeded to tell me how happy Blue Fish was. I was beaming from the front seat. If Blue Fish is happy - Evan is happy. If Evan is happy - all is well with the world.