Five Baht Elephant

my crafty home

My Kid is a Goofball

Goofball

(and I love it)

I carved some time, ok, truthfully I willed myself to do it – but I sat down at my computer, fired up Lightroom and got to work on sorting, editing and posting photos. I found this series of shots of Miles from January.

He’s at that age where he is pretty  much sick of ‘smiling’ for the camera – and it doesn’t matter which camera big Nikon or iPhone, he is just not interested. But he has no problem hamming it up.

He did it wearing snow boots in January.

He did it a week ago in Manhattan (Central Park).

He did it at a family wedding, even when I wanted him to NOT do it.

I know that I am biased, but seriously. I have a good looking kid.

He’s just been into being funny. And laughing this huge laugh. Other things he’s into, right now:

  • swim lessons every Thursday
  • going to Carol’s on Wednesdays
  • sleeping with a pillow on his head each night
  • begging me to sleep with him ‘this much’ and not ‘this much’ as he measures ‘much’ by spreading his hands apart
  • eggs, pancakes and spaghetti with butter (or Tobasco)
  • riding the bus and pretending to be a bus driver – he can name the streets in order from Colorado Blvd to the Capitol
  • elevators
  • maps – my car has a navigation screen that he likes to look at while we’re driving. In JJ’s car, he’ll want to look at the map on a phone. “Where the blue dot?”

 

The Ease at Which He Holds My Hand

For now at least, right? And not just when we’re crossing the street and I force him to hold on to someone.

I’ll reach my arm out to his side, touching his upper arm and shoulder. Without looking at me, Miles reaches up with his hand and hangs on. For just a little while, until something catches his attention and he runs off.

I noticed this on Sunday, while we were at the Boulder Creek Festival. There were so many people and so many things to see – I didn’t want to lose him. I am not even sure why that day I chose to pay attention to how his little hand fit in mine. Or how he seemed to reach for it instinctively. Maybe it was my hyper-awareness of keeping track of my kid and my husband as we made our way from one end of the creek to the other.

At 4-almost-but-not-quite-yet-5 I know that Miles is just going to grow. and grow and grow. And he’s going to need me less and won’t want to hold my hand. For now though, he’s still small and sweet and needs me. I’m going to remember to pay attention to little things like this, to the feeling of having my little guy around. The feeling of him wanting to be around me.

It’s a good feeling, being around these two 🙂

BCF

I Miss Yai

I miss my Yai.

And judging by the sheer number of times Miles has asked me this week, “I go to Ohio?” I think he does too. Misses his Yai, I mean.

I was sitting in my office one morning, I can’t remember why exactly, and Miles came by to show me his little Ampelmännchen. Carol brought them back from Germany, and he’s obsessed with them. Red Stop Man and Green Go Guy.  While he was standing there showing me his Ampelmännchen, he noticed a photo on my magnet board on the wall behind my desk.

ampelmannchen

He pointed to Yai and then I pointed to Yai. We both said “Yai”, referring to different people.

yai and yai
According to my mother, in Thai, Yai means maternal grandmother. Its what my sister and I called my mom’s mom. Its what my cousins called her too. Its what Miles calls my mom. Its what my cousins’ kids’ call my aunt. Miles calls my aunt Yai Au (she’s Na Au to me) and another aunt Yai Noi (She’s Na Noi to me). And my mom is Yai Mun to Mason and Briley (she’s Ba Mun to my cousins – the Na and Ba refer to younger sister vs older sister) Lots of Yai’s around.

I pulled the photo down from the wall and held it for him to see. And I lingered on it too. Its my favorite photo of them. Yai looks so happy. And so does my mom. It was a Thai celebration at the temple, I think. I wasn’t there, I know. I might have been in Korea. Stupid Army.

Trying to explain who each person was in the photo, and their relation to Miles and that they are both Yai probably confused him. See, I call my mom Yai now too, when talking with Miles.

Generations are funny things. The differences can be so so great, yet the similarity so apparent. I know that my Yai loved me, that my mom loved me. Miles knows that Yai, his Yai, loves him. He knows that I love him. And I’m reminded of something my mom shared with me almost ten years ago.

My grandmother was in the hospital. It was after her 4th stroke.  I lived far away and I went home because they were going to take her off life support. And they were basically waiting for me to arrive to begin the process of dying.  I was in Yai’s hospital room with my mom, and we were looking out the window. A gray day of course – Winter Ohio is always gray.  Mom had her arms around my waist and her head on my shoulder and she said to me, “I never knew how much my mom loved me until I had you.”

I looked at that photo for just a moment longer. My son had already left the room. Seeing their smiles, remembering their smiles, and today, I really miss both of them. Miles and I will soon go to Ohio to see Yai (and Grandpa!).

“Miles Eat Four Pancakes?”

sunday pancakes

Sunday began with some help making pancakes. Which, can I just share this?  Miles ate four. Four pancakes. And he refers to himself in the 3rd person. And his inflection makes everything a question. Its totally adorable.

How cute is my little helper? I keep a step stool in the kitchen because, well, I’m short and need the stool to reach pretty much everything.  Oh. I should say that I try to keep the stool in the kitchen, but JJ always moves it out of the kitchen and into the closet in my office.  And then when I need it, I go and pull it out of the closet, use it, then store it next to the trash can. JJ then moves it out of the kitchen and into the closet in my office.  And then when I need it, I go and pull it out of the closet, use it, then store it next to the trash can.  JJ then moves it …. and so it goes.

Anyway. The stool. Miles uses it to get up on the counter. He knows that the “black stool”, if its not in the kitchen, is in my closet and will go and drag it out when he wants to climb up onto the counter.  He also has figured out how to climb up the trash can to get up on the counter (or to grab some graham crackers from the pantry) but I try to discourage him from doing that.  Note that I said “try”. So, here’s Miles helping me “mix-a mix-a” the pancakes Sunday morning.

He likes to stir the batter. He likes to watch the butter bubble in the skillet. He likes to count out how many pancakes I pour and flip.  He also really likes to eat the pancakes. See above. Four! I’m still kind of in disbelief that he ate four! Seriously, Miles barely weighs 30 lbs – where does he put four pancakes??!!

My little guy is really cute right now. And I’m having so much fun with him right now. I’m enjoying him being small enough to sit on the counter yet he’s big enough to climb up all by himself. He won’t be this small or this adorable forever. I know he won’t always want to help “mix-a mix-a” the pancakes. I’m writing this, hoping that I’ll always remember his adorable-ness and how he asks a question even when he’s not asking a question. I hope that I’ll especially remember that when he wakes me up at 0640 on a weekend, saying “Miles want to eat?” that these days go so quickly. Much sooner than I realize, he’ll be old enough to make his own pancakes.  And I don’t want to think about how he won’t need me as much.

I’m enjoying him right now.

 

Today, I Want to Remember

I want to remember how you wanted to get on a plane and go to Ohio when we dropped your aunt off at the airport first thing in the morning.

I want to remember how you ran to ‘push the button’ that opens the doors at school.

I want to remember how you tripped and fell, skinning your knee, running to the rec center.

I want to remember how you dutifully paid attention during the first 3 minutes of swim class, then spent the remaining 27 doing whatever you wanted.

I want to remember how you read to me One Blue Fish during the drive home.

Waiting….

We’re in the car, waiting for the doc to return from lunch.

It’s M*’s 15 month checkup.

I’m hoping he weighs in excess of 20 pounds.

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

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