Friday, September 23, 2011

rat race

Sam got a job.  he leaves every afternoon before I call NAP time and goes to work.  before picking up his shape-sorting bucket and heading out he kisses me good bye.  and all the pets.  the dogs both get a hug and kisses on the nose and the cat gets a quick pat and peck on the butt.  (such short salutations are due to his unpredictable nature. the children have learned to make as little contact as possible and to direct the contact as far away from his teeth and claws as it is possible). then sam shuffles, pantsless, to pick up his bucket of colored shapes and makes the long commute to the empty corner cubby in the tv cabinet.  he cheers, “luv you” before carefully tucking his toes and nose in and closing the door.

within minutes, his work is done.  I assume he is a licensed shape-sorter.  and he emerges from his cubicle- quite literally- saying “I’m home” and passing around more wet kisses than you can shake a stick at.  I don’t get that saying. does there need to be a large amount of items gathered before it’s appropriate to shake a stick at them?  or could you just shake a stick at one or two things? anyway.

if you ask him if he’s all done working and ready for his nap, he’ll shriek NOOOOO and pick up his shapes and head back to his office.  he can sometimes be coaxed out of disgruntled employee mode by offering a severance snuggle in the brown chair.  it’s his favorite place to read “one more book”.   one more meaning as many as he can carry from the shelf to the chair in two trips.

once all the books are read and then just a few more are read, it’s possibly safe to hoist the workaholic onto your hip and carry his tired boy body to his bed and away from the stresses of a longish-short minute at work and around the house.

Will work for m&ms… will sleep for nothing.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

toy story

on one of our last weekly visits to see jed's mom and dad,  a little basket was quietly pulled down from a closet and proudly presented to sam on the carpet of the living room floor.

daddy's cars.
and tractors, and trucks, and diggers, sporty cars, dragsters (is that correct?) and one very popular fire truck.

for twenty minutes we all sat around the basket full of old classic toy cars and things (Go-bots and Micro Machines, even...) and oohed and aahed while jed and sam dug around discovering forgotten gems/new trophies.

jed remembered his favorites and which were originally his brother's.  he plunged his hand into the depths of truck-heaven looking for one in particular that another sparked a memory of.  and told stories about the ones with the wheels that "ride smooth".

sam's little hands couldn't rest on just one or two.  his favorite are the ones with the little doors that open and close.  and the ones with the beds that really dump.  and when i caught him playing quietly (for once) in the sunlight this morning on his little red table- i picked up my camera and watched his little boy hands as they made the wheels go.

"daddy's cars" are once again getting their turn.  makes me happy for everyone involved.