Time With Carver
Carver is a great kid. Just an all-around great kid. I can't relate to other parents when they discuss their children's personalities and temperaments in relation to their birth order. Like "Billy is such a firstborn--he's such a perfectionist!" etc. My kids were born in one environment and thrown into our family with no rhyme or reason to birth order or oldest, youngest, or middle. They're just kids. And Carver is about as easy as they get. He's sweet and sentimental and silly and kind. He's also the best at forgiving me when I screw up.
The afterglow of Thanksgiving was quick to wear off this week, and I am time-crunched myself with a work deadline that is going to be the death of me. Somehow the kids sensed my lack of availability and were downright wicked to each other. It has not been pretty.* I knew the kids were just wanting more time with me, so I spent all of today making sure I got one-on-one time with each of them.
Carver, of course, wanted to go to the skateboard park. That wasn't exactly what I would have chosen for quality time, but it was his choice.
Carver, ready to skate.
Me... ready to rob a bank?
The view from the skateboard park. Not bad.
After an hour of me applauding his drop-ins and ollies and other what-nots, we went to get some peppermint hot chocolate and browse books. Now, Carver is very well read. He's a literature geek and we had a ball oooohing and aaaaahing over new books. But then he found the following:
What is it with 11 year old boys and inappropriate noises? This book not only looked funny, but it had ten (yes, count them... ten!) different accompanying sounds. They were loud and we drew the attention of little old ladies who were buying picture books for their grandchildren.
A day like today exhausts me, but I hope when my kids are grown up and living somewhere else they'll remember that I invested time in them, and watched them fall off their skateboards, and giggled over fart books, and sipped hot cocoa with them, and tried to keep the sibling rivalry at bay.
*this is not one of those blogs where i lead you to believe my children are perfect.