Wishes

This morning, at 5, I heard someone yelling, “MY FEET! MY FEET! I have to wash my feet! WASH MY FEET!”
Quinten had his first bad dream and it was about his feet getting dirty, which makes sense because he’s rather particular. The other day as I wiped down the kitchen counter he said, “Mommy I like it when you clean”.
I felt rather defensive about it, but that’s not the point.
After I managed to wake him up, he was hungry, so we sat on the couch eating a chocolate granola bar (*A sign of a terrible mother? If you want to meet another terrible mother click here). Of course, he couldn’t just EAT the granola bar, he had to count the chocolate chips. “One, two, free chocolate chips….four….one….”.
My brain was screaming, “JUST EAT THE GRANOLA BAR SO I CAN GET BACK TO SLEEP!” but I managed to keep my real feelings under my hat, because he kept giving me hugs and saying, “Sank you for my granbola bar Mama”
Now he’s sitting on the living room floor holding the arm of his wooden rocking chair. He just ripped it off of the chair, now broken and he’s working on “fixing” it. He’s rubbing it on the carpet…I’m under the impression that he’s working on a static electricity thing.
I just asked him what he was doing and he said, “No.”
Ah, two year olds.
Now he’s gotten his little paws on the door stopper; he’s trying to attach it to his rocking chair arm. He’s saying, “Okay…perfect….is dis da way it goes mama?”
Soon he will be three. He looks bigger to me, not as babyish. When I say, “You’re my little boy” he says, “NO! I not, I’m your big boy”, and I’m afraid it’s true. There’s something about this morning that makes me want to record the tiny details of this day, June 11th. The day that Quinten is two, not twenty, not three.
Time is not the friend of mothers. I wish I could bottle today and save it forever; Quinten wishes that door stoppers could meld with rocking chairs.
“You can’t have that wish Little Bear.” –Else Holmelund Minarik
I’m joining up with moms without blogs for conversations with my kid.

14 thoughts on “Wishes

  1. This is a great glimpse of your little guy. It sounds like he would get along great with my 2 year old. Together they could probably manage to disassemble my van- or at least a Herkimer Battle Jitney.

    What? You linked to me?! But then people might actually read my blog:)

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  2. Your wonderful post reminded me of our second son, who would disessemble anything he could get his hands on. Once it was our telephone. This was pre-wireless days. Your ending quote also reminded me of a quote of something my husband used to say to his boys when they wanted to do something beyond their preschool years: “Not yet, not yet, not yet, small bear. Not until you have arm-pit hair.” 😛 My guy's corruption of the Berenstain Bear father.

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  3. Two lines I loved “I felt rather defensive about it”…made me laugh, and Time is not the friend of Mother's. A wonderful sentence that captures my feelings daily. I am currently helping my eldest choose the right high school. I really enjoyed your post. So glad that I found your blog : )
    Dana

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  4. You are such a writer. Truly.

    How very sweet 2 is. Your post makes me pine for those days.

    Now I have to give my teenage girls some hugs and remind them of those lovely, lovely days. They still are, they're just a different lovely.

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  5. Aw..what a sweetie! I mean, I know you weren't thinking that at 5 a.m., but still!

    And for some reason? I'm still not getting your blog into my google reader and I don't know why. It's making me VERY angry!!

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  6. Oh I love this. I love how you so simply state that there is something about this morning that makes me want to record the tiny details….I feel that way so often….

    What a sweet boy you have there…and my lil' guy is turning three on Friday. I have less than one week left with a 2-year-old…..wow. That's making me weepy…

    Great post and thanks for playing along!

    Lee

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