Sweet TJ

Bounce House

We went to the "big" bounce house to schedule Paul's birthday party, and I promised Paul he would get to jump once we finished all of the administrative work. I should have emphasized ALL of the administrative work, and explained that meant he had to stand with me until I finished talking to the teenagers who run the place and go with him to the play area. Even that would have been confusing, because part of the administrative work involved looking at the monstrous play area and choosing which of the different rooms his guests would get to visit. I lost him. Literally. Lost. Him.


Once I finished the administrative work, which including talking to said teenagers while holding a screaming 1.5-year-old, Paul was nowhere to be found. I found his shoes. I looked in each of the rooms twice, carrying a still screaming 1.5-year-old, before I enlisted the help of the other moms. These were moms who could sit and happily chat while their well-behaved children jumped in plain view. Can they really see their children, or are they just not concerned? I don't know, but one of these moms found him for me. I'll take this to mean they really do know where their children are.


After a talking-to and a time-out while I went through one of the obstacle courses with now-happily-squealing TJ, Paul resumed play and stuck with me. Those boys wore me out. Paul can do everything without my help, but TJ needs help to climb over most of the hills. I bounced with them and wondered if I ever had so much energy.


The boys decided to look at the video games for a few minutes. (Thank goodness!) TJ checked out all the driving games and Paul locked on to the game in which the player swings a sword that's tethered to the game. I asked Paul which rooms he liked best and while he spoke, I looked around for TJ. I stopped listening and kept looking. He wasn't at any of the games or under any of the games. I lost another one.


I looked in the first room dragging Paul behind me, until I decided to leave Paul at the front with the sword game to "look out for TJ" and "grab him if you see him." Again, I looked in all the rooms, asked moms, and started to imagine horrible possibilities. Should I go ahead and call the police now? Am I wasting valuable time in this search and rescue? I grab Paul and ask him if he can find TJ. He does. TJ's on the third level of a playscape in the back room. Hooray Paul!!! Once we got TJ out of the playscape, which was no easy matter, we high-tailed it out of that place.


So, I hope all of Paul's friends will join us for a great time at the physically and emotionally-draining, kid-obscuring bounce house.


On a positive note, maybe I can tell Paul he's better at finding than I am next time I hear, "mom, where's my...?"

Travel Delays

Coker was out of town Monday through Thursday this week. He should have been home late Wednesday night, but Delta just couldn't manage it. Everyday, both Paul and TJ asked about dad. TJ just asked, "dada?," and Paul had numerous questions.

At church Wednesday night, another dad asked Paul where his daddy was. Disappointed to know that dad would not be home that night as expected, he said sadly, "Dad told mom he's not coming home."

Computer Savvy 3-Year-Old

Paul has started using the computer. He plays Wiggles games. He can double click to open the link we've placed on the desktop and click away online to play the games he wants to play. He needs no help from me, and Coker jokes that he's better with the mouse than Poppy is. I guess it's time to start using those parental controls! A scarier thought: how long can I keep him from learning about video games? (Yes, Scott, I hid the Star Wars game - I'm not ready for that yet!)

Carbon Copy?

So many people tell me that TJ is a little carbon copy of Paul. I always answer that they do look like brothers. I do see the resemblance, but there are so many differences. So, to set the record straight, a photo gallery will follow. You judge for yourself.

Paul at 18 months

TJ at 18 months. Don't let the cream cheese distract you. He really enjoyed his breakfast that morning.Paul at 3.875 years

OK, they look a LOT alike. Looking at baby pictures, I can tell them apart. Paul still looks like Paul, and TJ's still a baby. We'll see how they change. Coker looks nothing like he did as a child. How I wish I had a digital image of Coker as a child to add!

Me Baby, You Mama

Don't be surprised if one day my younger son swings into the room on a vine yelling a perfect Carol Burnett "aaahhh-ahhh." To get a turn at whatever, he simply says "me" and pats his chest like Tarzan. As Paul played with foam soap in the tub, TJ would remind big brother, "me" and add a chest pat for emphasis.

I know TJ can't possibly get as much attention as I heaped on Paul at 18 months. I have to ask myself if he's worse off for being the little brother. He can't count or recognize any letters like Paul could at this age, and I'm hoping that won't make him a dunce in school. However, he understands just about everything I say to him, although he pretends either not to hear me or not to speak the language when I ask him to do something he doesn't want to do. Unlike Paul, TJ sleeps so well in his crib. I wonder if it's partly because I couldn't rush in every time he whimpered, being occupied trying to get Paul to go to sleep. There are a million comparisons I've made, and there are positives and negatives on both sides of the sibling equation. Even if it turns out imbalanced, I hope my boys will be happier for having had a brother.

That written, TJ is brilliant despite his lack of maternal attention. Incredibly sweet and handsome, too.

Handyman Dad

Last week, Paul told me he was going to work. I asked him why and he said that dad and mom go to work, so he would too.

Tonight, Coker asked Paul what he wants to be when he grows up. Does Paul want to be a veterinarian? No. An astronaut? No. A cowboy? No. After going through about 15 options, Coker asked if Paul wants to be a dad.

Paul: "Yes!"
Coker: "What do dads do?"
Paul makes a drumming motion.
Coker: What is that?
Paul: "Building. Dads build things."
Coker: Very pleased, "What do I build?"
Paul: Thinking, "Alec's dad built my swing set."

Crushed, Coker pointed out several things he's built. To his credit, Coker fixed my garbage disposal tonight. Thanks, Hon!