Trick or Treat? (we shall see on Election Day)

Tonight, in the spirit of the Looming Marxist Regime, we pondered whether we should just fall in line with the logic of the masses and force all of the hard-working kids who diligently spent their night going about town, collecting their precious candy, to come by our house when their work is done and SPREAD THE WEALTH AROUND. We agreed, each of them should put 5 pieces of their candy into our goodie bag.

This would all be done in the name of FAIRNESS, of course. Because we are obviously small and frail and unwilling to traipse around town all night, collecting our own candy. So they must collect it for us.

If they don't want to do this (what?! they think this is unfair?), we would sit them down and explain to them that they already have too much candy to begin with. This is not fair. Why do they need so much? Really, they should not be so SELFISH. Be an American, already! Handing over your candy after a long night's collecting is PATRIOTIC!

Luckily, we came to our senses before this scenario played out. We hope that the country also comes to its senses before this plays out nationally.

And so, what happened tonight? We VOLUNTARILY GAVE CANDY to all that came to our house. Because we are big-hearted that way. As for our own candy-collecting activity, we agreed that if we want candy, we really need to put our shoes (and cute patriotic elephant outfit) on and walk over to at least one neighbor, which we did.

Long weekend in the Carolina mountains

Our family takes several short trips throughout the year to recharge and enjoy concentrated family time, while seeing a new part of the country. With grueling 65-hour workweeks for Daddy and a busy home business for Mama that she can never truly escape from, we've come to rely on these getaways to completely break away from work responsibilities and spend time together as a family.

This past weekend we ventured into the North Carolina mountains for our fall getaway. First we attended the Carolina BalloonFest, a hot air balloon festival in Statesville, then visited the Asheville area, where we climbed Chimney Rock Park (this is where The Last of the Mohicans was filmed) and visited Lake Lure (where Dirty Dancing was filmed). Then we drove to Grandfather Mountain, to see the mile high swinging bridge and 100-mile views of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

We had a great time, even though we never got to see the mile-high swinging bridge, for it was closed due to high winds of 80 mph! I guess, the suspension bridge was really swinging that day! It would have made for a memorable experience, that's for sure. Upon our return, I read that temperatures were at mid-January levels in the Carolina mountains with snow the next day!

Truth is, even hurricane-force winds would not have stopped us, for this bridge was the sole reason we drove deep into the mountains. The road was, of course, blocked and after a brief discussion about the possibility of sneaking up there on one of the side trails (since we didn't think they actually had guards standing at the bridge), we reluctantly abandoned this idea, for the possibility of getting arrested in the backcountry of North Carolina was not part of the fun we had envisioned for the weekend.

The hot air balloon festival was fun. This time, we actually saw balloons go up, about 50 of them. In the evening, all the balloons came back and they had a Balloon Glow display, where once the sun had set all the balloons were fired up all at once, again and again, to the rowdy cheers of the crowd. We were close enough to feel the fire on our faces.

I had visited Chimney Rock a few years ago with a friend and I've wanted to show Ron this place ever since. This place is very beautiful, such a natural wonder to behold. The huge outcropping rocks have stairs built on them, so one can climb up to see the spectacular vistas all around. We climbed up to the top, with Caleb on Mama's back in the Ergo carrier, which is serving us very well. We stayed until closing, spending about 4 hours climbing and walking all of the trails, except for the Skyline-Cliff Trail, which was closed due to renovations. At the end of our hike, we saw the 404-foot Hickory Nut Falls, with the wind blowing mist in our faces, which was not as refreshing in late-October as I remembered it to be on a hot day in July. I also decided to forego climbing on the rocks under the waterfall and getting drenched, for the same late-October weather reasons.

The drive home through winding little roads through the mountains was really, REALLY long, though beautiful. Had we not taken those roads we would have not seen Amish barn designs, and we would have not tasted Carolina barbecue and Carolina caviar. And we would have not had the joy of hearing Caleb's sweet little voice from the backseat, saying "bú" and "ló" as he pointed out EVERY SINGLE COW AND HORSE on the 5-hour drive.

We had a fun time. Can you tell? Now, for the pictures that you've been waiting for so patiently.

22 months: Teaching the Pig to Potty, Helping Mama Around the House, and Proactively Taking our Hand

You are 22 months old today. I cannot believe that you are two months away from your second birthday! This time of year is so much fun, but it also flies by very quickly. Things start to speed up around Halloween, then Thanksgiving rushes past and before we know it, Christmas (and your birthday) is here. I had better start planning your birthday party now, if there is to be one! We'll have to see how busy everyone is in early or mid-December.

It is so much fun these days to watch you play. Yesterday I observed you singing to yourself as you played with your tractor, pulling it along and stopping every so often to “feed” its passengers (the pig, the cow, the horse, the lamb, and the farmer) with your slice of cheese. I think you favor the horse, because you perpetually choose the horse as the driver of the tractor, relegating the farmer to one of the back seats.

Later, when you sat down on the potty (where the tractor and its passengers are required company), you let the pig see the “kaka” in the potty by lifting him up and tilting his head as to show him the contents. (I’m sure the pig will appreciate this lesson.) When I came back a couple of minutes later to check on you, the tractor was empty of all its passengers and the pig, cow, horse, lamb, and farmer had all joined you on the potty, where they were sitting lined up between your legs, apparently taking a private lesson. Now that you have mastered the potty experience, you are very correct in assuming that you need to start practicing teaching this skill to others. The pig, cow, horse, lamb, and farmer are as good pupils as any. It is very smart of you to sharpen your teaching skills now, for in the future, you are fully expected to pass on everything that I have taught you to any prospective younger siblings.

You love it when I can join you in your play, and in the past couple of weeks, you’ve begun to extend the invitation to play by taking my finger, and daddy’s too, and gently pulling us into the living room. And this coming on the heels of my comments last month about how you absolutely refused to hold anyone’s hand! You might have a sixth sense, or something, to know that I charged you in front of the whole world for not holding my hand during a few isolated incidents, when you didn’t feel like being constrained. And you may have thought that this was incredibly unfair. You may have resolved: “I’ll show her! I can hold a hand! In fact, I can initiate holding a hand!” Yes, yes - you can. This new finger-grabbing habit of yours is very effective, as it really tugs at our hearts.

You make the best faces. You are a total ham, an excellent little clown, and I hope that I had something to do with that by demonstrating to you for the past 22 months what a ham/clown looks like. (Though, I must give your father some credit too; he is also pretty good at being a ham and a clown.) Your clown faces range from the exaggerated surprised face, to the oooooh funny face, which entertained all of your Hungarian relatives a few weeks ago, to a large variety of exaggerated happy faces. Whether you are making a goofy face to make everyone laugh or truly reacting to something, your face mirroring your emotions, you are sure fun to watch.

This month, you have begun to take your clothes off. This is a great first step to being able to go potty on your own. I have happy imaginings of this. You are not yet fast enough, but we’re working on it. The problem is, you can take your pants OFF, but you don’t yet know how to put them back ON. Also, you like to take them off randomly, even when you don’t have to go potty. And once you’ve managed to wiggle out of them, you really just like to run around naked. This might be fine if we lived in the jungles of Africa, where both the weather and cultural norms would allow children this type of behavior. But this is not Africa and the October weather here is not conducive to your parading around in your birthday suit. I’m sorry to disappoint, but we’re going to have to put those pants back on.

One thing about this, though: I know that it could be so much worse than just your taking off clean pants/underwear and running around, free like a gazelle. Children about your age everywhere love to be free of their clothing, and those who are still in diapers want nothing more than to be free of those. I have heard of children your age taking off their soiled diapers and going to town with the contents. (Heard? Ha! I must painfully remind myself that not only have I heard of this, I actually LIVED THIS EXPERIENCE with 18-month-old twin boys, whom I used to baby-sit as a teen. Let me tell you, finding Mikey and Frankie in their cribs after their nap with their diapers off and the contents smeared everywhere wasn’t a pretty sight.) Am I glad that – thanks to early potty training – you will NEVER surprise me this way! Your free gazelle-like tendencies don’t sound so bad now, do they, when put in that context.

You continue to love everything on wheels. Cars, trucks, tractors, trolleys, wagons – these are your toys and the subject of your conversations these days.

You have also been especially fascinated with bicycles this month. You go wild every time you see one. You had the chance to try a tricycle at the store (your feet almost reach) and you also tried to push along your friend’s bicycle on the trail one day. You’ll be glad to know that your father and I have discussed your need for some wheels and you should be getting a tricycle or maybe even two in the near future.

You are Mama’s little helper. Whether you’re helping to bring the groceries into the house, carrying your own plastic bag, or helping me with dinner, dropping each baby potato into the pot of cold water, or throwing away some garbage (or perceived garbage), you love to help. You’ve even begun to take over some of the bug-catching activity in the house. When you see what looks like a bug to you, you don’t wait for me anymore. You take action, running to get a piece of toilet paper, then running back to the scene with a long trail of toilet paper behind you, and when you’ve gathered up your “bug,” you hurry back to the bathroom to throw it away. You haven’t yet caught any actual bugs, but I don’t want to discourage this helpfulness, so I pretend and applaud your efforts. When you are done, you make sure that the long string of toilet paper also gets tossed into the toilet, struggling with it until every bit of it is in there.

I have designated one of the lower kitchen cabinets with pots and pans that you are allowed to play with. You love going into that cabinet, arranging and rearranging its contents until they fit perfectly. If the cabinet door doesn’t close right, you work at it some more until you get it right. You also play with the squash and the potatoes, which you like to move from one pot to another. This generally occupies you while I cook and also keeps you within view. Again, at the end of this activity, you voluntarily put away everything in its place. I don’t need to say a thing.

Regret, it seems, is a mother’s portion. No matter how much she might do right through the course of the day, in the still of the night, she will inevitably remember those things that she didn’t do so well.

It was one of those days today. Clients pulling at me from every which way, responses needed NOW, and on top of all that, a million things to do for our upcoming trip tomorrow. You wanted my attention at times today when I just couldn’t give it. Tonight, as you snuggled close to me and contentedly drifted off to sleep, my heart ached that I wasn’t more attentive, more patient with you today. It didn’t help that there had been great moments, as in the above and below photos, taken this afternoon, when we finally played in the fallen leaves, chasing each other and enjoying our time together. It didn’t erase those other moments when I know I could have done better.

Caleb, I can’t promise to always do things perfectly. I am not perfect. But I resolve to learn from days like today and do better the next day, and the next day, and the next...
Tomorrow will be a great day.

Love,
Mama

An Autumn Day

An Autumn Day
Carmen Lagos Signes


Pumpkins in the cornfields,
Gold among the brown,
Leaves of rust and scarlet,
Trembling slowly down;
Birds that travel southward,
Lovely time to play;
Nothing is as pleasant
As an autumn day!

"I cannot endure to waste anything as precious as autumn sunshine by staying in the house.
So I spend almost all the daytime hours in the open air."
Nathaniel Hawthorne

A pumpkin patch and a corn maze

This past weekend, we visited the Layman Family Farm. Caleb loved everything, from riding the cow train (which he spotted right away, shouting CAR!), the tractor-pulled hay ride out to the pumpkin patch, where he saw BALL! and running through (getting lost in) the huge corn maze. Oh, I almost forgot the corn crib and the funnel cake!


Actually, there was something he did NOT like: there were these cannons - one shooting apples, another shooting pumpkins. These were too loud for him.


And now you get to see a couple of videos of Caleb enjoying his day.

First, he sings over the pumpkins and tries to roll them (succeeding too - but that's not on film)

And here, he is getting me lost in the corn maze

21 months: Charming the Hungarian Clan, Exclaiming "Coca" while Traversing the World, and Good Luck to Everyone Who Tries to Hold Your Hand

A couple of weeks ago, you turned 21 months old. Yes, a couple of WEEKS ago. And thus, this month’s letter is frightfully late. In my defense, you and I were in Hungary a couple of weeks ago when this milestone happened, where we were much too busy to write letters, what with all the Metro-riding, thermal bathing, bird-feeding, city-walking, and Ischler-eating. Nevertheless, I did not want to let this month pass by without at least touching on a few things.

Firstly, let me just say that you are a wonderful traveler. A fantastic WORLD TRAVELER. Indeed, by now you are a seasoned pro at this transatlantic flying business, having spent a total of 38 hours at 35,000 miles up in the air during your short 21 months of life. This does not count the long hours spent in transit, which is a tribulation all its own – especially if you happen to be in Frankfurt, as we’ve found.

Once on the ground, you immediately set out to charm the Hungarian side of your family, smiling and acting like you already knew them. I think you felt the kinship and love right away. Through the course of our stay, you developed a friendship with each member of the family, which was expressed in some of the following ways: hanging around Grandma in the kitchen while she cooked, following her around and finding a tall doorstep as your perch, where you could stay close; your face lighting up every time Grandpa entered the room, your hand going up in a wave; clinging for dear life to Barbara, wrapping your arms and legs around her, not wanting to let go. Calling each of them by name.

I know that from now on, you will surely remember your Papa, Mami, and Barbara. And they will cherish having known you as a 21-month-old.

One of the best things was that you really began imitating every word you heard us speak. Perhaps you just needed to hear a single language spoken for a length of time by many people. It was great. For two weeks, you repeated everything, so I shouldn’t have been too surprised when at Dulles Airport on our way back, you exclaimed “Coca” as I opened a bottle of Coca-Cola. I said, what did you just say, and you repeated it with a big grin, clearly asking for the drink. My delight at this utterance was such that I actually gave you some and this encouraged you to repeat “Coca” over and over, like a mantra, in quest of the sweet caramel-colored fuzzy liquid. As a result, you now like Coca-Cola. (sigh) And we now have the task of not giving you Coca-Cola out of our inability to resist the adorableness every time you grin and ask so sweetly.

By the way, this has now become an inside joke between us, or kind of like the punch line to a joke. At any time, even as you are drifting off to sleep, I need only to mention the word “Coca” to have you break into a knowing smile.

There were new accomplishments this month, one of them when you scribbled purposefully on the Doodle Pro (magnetic drawing board), then pointed to it, saying CAR! You are also making connections that often surprise us. Like when we are driving to pick up Daddy and we get to a certain point in the road, you always yell out “Daddy,” recognizing the way to Daddy’s workplace. You associate bookstores with the trains you usually play with there, so when we entered a bookstore in Hungary, you started running to the back saying “Choo-choo!” only to find that they do things differently there (there was a play corner with toys, board and chalk, but no trains).

There were a few challenging occasions at the end of our trip, when we were sightseeing for many hours a day and you were in the stroller. You do great in the stroller and people remark how content you are for long periods (some days up to 7-8 hours with short breaks, I’m not kidding). The problem came not when you were in the stroller, but when you’d come out. You would run around happily until I eventually needed you to hold my hand (or anyone else’s for that matter), which you would absolutely refuse. Any and all attempts to redirect you to go this way or that were met with severe resistance, noodle legs, the arching of your back, LOUD GROWLING, and thrashing around, like a wild animal.

Was it the endless hours that you had spent restrained in the stroller and your urgent need for unrestricted freedom when you were finally out? Was it the bad teething you were experiencing at the time, which we all know can try the patience of the best of them? Or was it that you also missed your nap on a couple of those days, which can completely change the manner of a young child?

LET this be a lesson to you: don't put your child in a stroller for so many hours!

In retrospect, requiring you to sit in the stroller for hours on end was probably most of the problem. The other day we went walking with a good friend of mine who has three children and you sat through the 1.5-hour walk contentedly in your stroller. I thought nothing of it, but she called this “extraordinary.” So the fact that you often sat for hours before there was a chance to come out for a break, then were back in the stroller for hours again speaks for unusual patience on your part.

But at the time, I felt that you were acting like a little terror (or as Ivana Trump would put it, like a “barbarian”) and I was quite taken aback that my sweet pleasant child, who previously knew how to hold my hand and how to obey re-direction, could transform so drastically. To be fair, these were only brief moments in days that were otherwise cheerful and good. You were always quick to get over the tantrum and get back to enjoying your day. In fact, they seemed to disturb me more than you, as I do not enjoy curtailing your happy freedom and thereby causing you distress. So I got a little inventive in order to still let you go AND keep you safe (I’m proud to say, without the use of a leash!) and we had a really fun time as I made a game out of your running back and forth between us at Heroes’ Square – without your running off and out into traffic!

Our travel back to the US went very well. You allowed yourself to be entertained and lulled to sleep by Mama on the 9-hour flight. Your most severe “offense” was repeating “Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba...” endlessly once for about 3 minutes, which elicited the disapproving loud shushing of one passenger, who was by all evidence - childless. What’s more, I’ll speculate that she has never encountered children before, ever, in her lifetime. Daddy says that this passenger is lucky that he was not there to witness her loud shushing. I say, this passenger is lucky that you didn’t give her an earful of your LOUD GROWLING that you had just perfected in the preceding days. There’s no doubt in my mind that all of her loud shushing would have been NO MATCH FOR THAT.

Love,
Mama