First Day of School Part Two

I thought he would whine this morning as we started to leave. I thought there would be tears. I thought there would be a scene. I imagined him screaming and clawing at me as I walked out the door. Boy, was I wrong. 

Oliver woke up this morning around 7:30. I walked in and asked him what day it was. He cried out: “Monday!” I said: “And what is Monday?” ... “My First Day of School! I’m going to the library!” (You would have to have read the new Pete the Cat book to get the last part but his enthusiasm translates either way). We ate some breakfast, grabbed his lunch, backpack and Pete the Cat doll and headed out the door.

The entire way to school we talked about the day. He told me over and over again: “It’s my first day of school!” We talked about how he should share with his friends and shouldn’t throw fits. He told me that if he got frustrated he would “take a deep breath and walk away and calm down.” He reminded me that he would stay at school all day and that I would pick him up when I was done at BookPeople. After ten minutes of grilling him on proper school behavior, he had enough and asked me: “Mommy, can we listen to the Talking Heads?”

So, we listened to Burning Down the House as we pulled into the parking lot. Oliver kept saying: “It’s Burning Down the House! Burning Down the House!” I didn’t bother him about it but said a quick prayer that those words wouldn’t be the first words out of his mouth at school. 

We walked in, went to his classroom and got him settled with the help of a teacher’s aide. His classmates were out on the playground so we went out and joined them. Oliver immediately threw himself into playing. I chatted with his teacher for a few minutes and then it was the big moment. The dreaded Good-Bye. I went over to Oliver, knelt down solemnly and told him it was time for me to leave. He looked up at me with his big sweet eyes and said: “Bye, Mom” and ran off to keep playing. Absolutely perfect.

I left the building, shed a few tears in my car and headed off to work. I spent all day with my phone in my pocket but never heard from the school (the director asked me when I left if I wanted them to call me and give me an update. I decided to be brave like Oliver and declined the offer). Around 3 o’clock I was desperate to rush over and pick him up but I forced myself to stay at the store until 4.

I walked into the school and was greeted by the teacher’s aide that had helped get us set up this morning and he gave me the best news ever. And I quote: “He was awesome today! He told everyone it was his first day of school! I didn’t hear him upset at all today!” What a relief! I got into his classroom and the entire classroom was running around without their shirts on (they had been doing a messy painting project). They all looked so happy and excited. Oliver was in the corner playing with some toy or other and didn’t hear me come in. I watched him for a few minutes before calling out to him. He looked up and said: “Hi, Mom! It’s my first day of school!” and went back to playing. 

I don’t think we could have asked for a better first day. I know the other shoe could drop at any moment but even this evening all he could talk about was how he would go back to school tomorrow and he was happy about it. I’m pretty sure he didn’t nap today at all but he was still in a pleasant mood this evening so I’m not worried about that problem yet (ask me in a few days). I’m very impressed with my little man right now and am so grateful this first day went so smoothly.

First Day of School Part One

Tomorrow is a big day in the Contine household. After over two years of staying home with Brian and over six weeks of staying home with whoever could watch him after Brian started working (huge THANKS to Laurie, my mom, and Ann, by the way), Oliver is finally starting day care tomorrow. We found  a school that we love (Open Door Preschool) and after almost two months of badgering them we secured a spot and a start date. I should be relieved. The last two weeks, I have been (almost) solely responsible for O’s care during the week on top of trying to do my full time job and I have done both tasks rather poorly. I should be excited to get back into a routine. To be able to do the same thing every day will be good not only for Oliver but for me. I miss being at the store and I miss being able to give my full attention to my work during the day.

I should be excited and instead I am a wreck. O is taking the news that he is going to school tomorrow in stride. He can tell me that in the morning he will pack Pete in his backpack and I will drive him to school. I will drop him off and he will play with his friends, eat lunch and take a nap there until I come to pick him up in the afternoon. And he knows that he will do that every day except Saturday and Sunday from here on out. He seems set and yet I know there will be tears in the morning. My tears, however, have already started.

I am mourning the end of O’s time at home with his dad (which, in reality, ended six weeks ago). I am mourning the end of the period of his life in which he spent every moment with one of his parents or grandparents. I know school will be great for him... that he will flourish in the new reality of not being the center of adult attention and that spending time with kids his own age will do him nothing but good. But still I’m sad and I’m anxious about our new routine.

I haven’t sat still at all today - filling my day with meaningless tasks trying to prepare us for tomorrow. I’ve done laundry, made stuff for lunches, packed and repacked Oliver’s backpack and yet I’m still not ready. I have so many questions about how this whole day care thing will work. Do I need to bring diapers? If so, how many? Can I just leave a stash at the school? What about wipes? What about nap time? Will he sleep? What could I send with him to make it more likely that he will? Will he like his teachers? His classmates? Ugh. I’m more nervous for O’s first day of school than he is. 

Here goes nothing. 

A Day (Or Two Years) in the Life Of...

This is from Brian, who recently started working full time for the first time since Oliver was born(more on that later).

When I was in high school I had a low rider. It was a brand new, white Honda Civic Ex, dropped, with a loud muffler, and a loud stereo. It was clean, and I was on top of the world. I felt like a celebrity. If you would have asked me then, I would have told you that that was the most fun I’d ever have. Like most seventeen year olds, I was wrong about a great many things. I’m a little older now, and not prone to the same pitfalls that riddled my teenage years, but I will once again unequivocally announce that the last two years are going to be the best years of my life. 

Most anyone who would be reading this blog knows that I haven’t always taken the straightest path. I’ve fallen a few times. To say that Elizabeth and I sat down and made the choice to have me stay home with Oliver would be a lie. I wasn’t doing well at school, and graduation seemed to be getting further away. So, out of necessity, I stayed home with Oliver, worked a couple of nights a week at the bookstore, and tried to support my family in every way that wasn’t financial. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it was a plan that worked. We ate, laughed, and flourished as a family. I’ve started a new job now, and I love it, but I wanted to take a few minutes to remember what it was like to be a stay at home parent. 

Most days at our house start with poop. Oliver almost always fills his diaper in the night, so one of us gets up and immediately changes him. He doesn’t get terrible diaper rashes, but they come when we don’t get to the dirty diaper fast enough. Diaper changing starts the day fast, and with not much room for anything else. So, the first thing you should know about my two years with Oliver is that I didn’t shower much. Maybe 3 times a week. It bothered me sometimes, but mostly it didn’t matter. After poop comes play. Our little bundle of joy is a morning person. His most energetic, focused play comes right when he wakes up. I would get my coffee, sit down and watch him. You can’t do this at 4 in the afternoon; he’s not really an afternoon baby. But between 6:30 and 8:30 you can watch him explore. These were the times that I felt fully appreciative of this experience. It’s also on one of these days that I realized that I wouldn’t change places with anyone in the world. We all fantasize about being someone else, for me it’s always Michael Jordan or Gertrude Stein, but after these relatively quiet mornings, I’m sure that my favorite thing to be is Oliver’s dad. I wouldn’t exchange it for money, genius, France, or the ability to do a 360 degrees dunk. Although the dunk would be second. 

Then the fear sets in. Elizabeth has gone to work. We waved to her from our dog slobber stained window, cried, and set about our day. Oliver is an active child. He likes to move, and he likes to be outside. This is great, but if I didn’t provide activities or excitement, he’d turn on me quick. Boredom is his most unlikeable state of being. He’s horrible at being bored. At the beginning it was harder. He couldn’t walk, so most parks were above his level. He was also taking two naps a day, so there was a pretty short window between when we could leave, and when we had to be back for eating and sleeping. Every once in a while we went to the nice park in our neighborhood that has only a few drug dealers stationed there, and we walked Town Lake sometimes, but my day almost always included a trip to some store. Grocery stores are an Oliver favorite, he thinks that everyone is there just to wave at him, and sometimes it seemed like he was right. We walked slowly up and down the aisle, talking about Mac & Cheese, and getting our miniscule assortment of six items. We didn’t want to get too much, because then we couldn’t come back tomorrow. It wasn’t efficient, but it was. 

After he got a little older, we lost a nap and ventured into Austin. The Children’s Museum was a hot spot, BookPeople was a must when Miss Staci was singing, and we battled our fare share of peacocks, but the place we visited most was the Science and Nature Center. It had all the characteristics we cherished most: outside and inside areas, shade, water, animals, and dirt. Not to mention, it’s free. The part I love the most about the center is the back trail. If you go to the owl exhibit and keep walking south, you’ll come to a fence, usually open, with a fifteen inch drop-off onto a trail. The trail is completely shaded and serene. There’s almost never anyone else there. We would walk about a quarter mile (probably less) in and come upon a dry creek bed. This bed provided rocks for me to sit on and rocks for Oliver to throw. We’d sit there for an hour or so, drink some water, and practice throwing small rocks at big rocks. I tried to take pictures, but they never came out the way I saw the place in my head.  

We’d get home, and it’d be time for lunch and a nap.  Nap time hasn’t changed much since he was an infant. We cuddle, we read stories, and we sing a song or two. I’ve been at my new job for three weeks now, and I can’t tell you how much I miss putting him down for his nap. He used to read two stories, now he reads three, and is begging for four. We’ll probably move onto longer stories in place of the fourth, but I feel silly complaining about the length of story time. Oliver Finds His Way, Charlie Parker Played Bebop, Art & Max, and Good Dog, Carl are some of my favorites, but I highly recommend The Tin Forest for those prone to sentimentality, like me. After stories, we give the dogs a kiss and a hug, and move to the rocking chair. I used to sing him the ABC’s because it was the only song I was sure I could remember when I was exhausted, and he seemed to like it. Over the last year I’ve been singing him the theme song to Cheers. He and I both like the song, and it’s turned into a duet. Now that he’s a little older, he doesn’t fall asleep in my arms, which was sad, but it’s been replaced with a big hug and kiss. He grabs his bedmates, Pete the Cat, Grover, and a rubber football, and goes to sleep. 

Post nap is Oliver’s toughest time, and I found myself constantly looking to the clock to see when my lovely wife would be home. It was sometimes too hot to go out, and I found myself with no energy to battle him into cloths, into the car, out into the world, and back again in time for dinner. So, we spent afternoons at the house. This meant one thing: Dance Party! I would turn the music up way too loud and we would bounce off the walls until we were too tired to do anything but fall down. I’m sure the neighbors were curious about all those strange sounds coming from my house, but sometimes you just gotta be loud. Some of the favorite selections were Mumford & Sons, Townes Van Zandt, Guy Clark, The Beatles, and Kanye West. But when we wanted to get really loud, and I mean REALLY LOUD, we’d choose Miles Davis, Arcade Fire, or The Tiny Tin Hearts. Lately I’ve been digging through Chuck’s (Elizabeth’s Dad) old records and we’ve been playing a couple of those every day. He’s split between Simon & Garfunkel and Cat Stevens as the most requested. We’ll continue the debates on Saturdays and Sundays.

Elizabeth told me a month ago that I should take the time to enjoy my last few days as a stay at home parent and I tried. But it’s something that no matter how hard you try to take it in completely, it eludes you. The experience can’t be recreated, and it is unequaled by anything I’ve ever done. If you want to get my dad talking about the past, there’s only one way to do it, get his little sister Linda to start the conversation. I remember one particular trip to Mt Charleston with the family. Aunt Linda got my dad talking about something, and it came around to how he got drafted, and how he left school. At the time it was not the plan he had in mind, but without the mistakes, he wouldn’t have become the father and husband he’s become. He said something to the car, but I’ll take it as advice straight to me, “Some of my biggest mistakes have been my best decisions.” I didn’t choose to be a stay at home parent, and it was a necessity built on my mistakes, but it’s the best time I’ll ever have, and I’m grateful to my wife for the sacrifices she’s made, and I’m thankful to Oliver for noticing buses.

Chinwagger

So, I wanted to call this entry “Chatterbox” but I have an entry titled that from over a year ago. After a quick search of an online thesaurus, I settled on my favorite synonym. Hence, “Chinwagger.”

Oliver has been going through a bit of an explosion when it comes to his verbal development. He regularly speaks in full sentences (many of which we can actually understand!) and does a play by play of everything that anyone is doing (Brian calls him Marv Albert, although I prefer Al Michaels). The gist of it is that whereas at one point we were concerned that he would never talk, we now regularly wonder whether he will ever shut up! I thought it would be nice to jot down some of the funnier/cuter things he’s said in the last couple of months.

Grandma came to stay with us for Oliver’s birthday. She took a shower one day (well, many days but one day in particular) and came out of the room with her hair wet and spiked all over the place. Oliver looked at her and said: “Grandma. Dry your hair.” She toweled it off and left it spiky and Oliver said: “Comb?” and handed her a comb. She combed through her hair but left it looking a little crazy and Oliver looked at her, thought for a moment and then said: “Hat?”

Brian turned on Simon and Garfunkel a few weeks ago while Oliver was eating cereal standing at his train table. The music started and Oliver started dancing all over the place while he was trying to eat. He looked up at Brian and cried: “Daddy! This music (pronounced “mizkit”) makes my feet move!”

Oliver grabbed a bag the other day and came up to us and said: “Bye, Mommy and Daddy! I be right back! I have to go get a tiger.” We asked him where he was going to get a tiger, and he replied: “Target.”

Brian took Oliver to the splash pad. Oliver took a kid by the hand, dragged him over to Brian and said: “This is Brian.” So much for “Daddy.” 

Today, driving home from work, I started coughing. Oliver says: “Mommy sneezed!” I said: “No. Mommy coughed.” Oliver says: “Nooooooooooo! Mommy SNEEZED.” Okay, kid, I sneezed. Sheesh.

But my absolute favorite thing about this latest verbal spurt is that he now regularly, without prompting will come up to me, wrap his arms around me and say: “I love you a green bus, Mommy.” It’s the best thing in the entire world.

So fast...

An hour ago I put Oliver to bed for his last night of sleep as a one year old. I can’t get over how quickly the last two years have gone by. I can’t believe he’s already two years old but at the same time I struggle to remember what life was like before he came along.

He’s changed so much in the past two years. Tonight he and I went to dinner together and he told me exactly what he wanted to eat - chicken and edamame - and we spent the entire meal having a conversation about what he had done that day, what he was eating, what he wanted to do tomorrow, etc. We talked about how Grandma is coming tomorrow and he told me that when he sees Grandma he is going to say: “Hi, Grandma! I need hug! Big kiss!” 

He’s become such a lover boy just in the last week. We’ll be pushing him through the grocery store and he will look up, spread his arms wide and say: “Hug, Mommy!” It’s awesome (although it does add a considerable amount of time to our shopping trips). 

Sometimes I find myself getting nostalgic for the little tiny baby who came into our life two years ago

but then I watch our little bundle of energy, running wildly across the yard declaring: “I fast! I fast!”

or leaning up against the garage door, counting to ten to play hide and seek

and I just get so proud and happy to be the mom of such an amazing little boy. He is spirited, almost always smiling and laughing and just a heck of a lot of fun to be around.

Happy Birthday, Oliver! Can’t wait to see what the next year has in store for you.

Austin, Texas - A Love Story

Oliver and I woke up this past Saturday morning at my mom’s house in San Antonio. We got up, got dressed and went out for breakfast (we had “Gackos” or “tacos”), and then headed north to Austin for music class. Music class starts at 10:30 and we left San Antonio at 8:45, seemingly with plenty of time even considering that I-35 was shut down in the south of Austin (which I knew before we headed out). My plan was to continue driving north on 35 until it started to slow down and then get off and take the surface roads the rest of the way to music class. It didn’t work out so smoothly. The highway never “slowed down”. It just stopped. Dead stop. We went from going 70 mph to going 2 mph. It was horrible. I knew we weren’t going to make it to class and I felt awful. I was so angry at myself but even angrier at the city of Austin. I mean, what sort of city has ONE north-south thoroughfare and shuts that road down for an entire weekend? What kind of city makes it so impossible to get anywhere? Shuts down roads every two minutes for some sort of festival or race, etc? Ugh. Austin was on my list. I was so over it.

Oliver and I got to music class thirty minutes late but our teacher was nice enough to let us sit in on the next class so Oliver didn’t have to miss it entirely. After class we headed home and Oliver and I both took pretty decent naps. When we woke up, Dauphin and Kelly called and said that there were headed to Zilker Park to fly kites and hang out. We headed down to the park and spent the next three hours running around, playing soccer and flying kites. There were hundreds of people out at the park but it wasn’t crowded. Oliver ran and ran and ran and met tons of people. He kept running up to people and saying: “Hi! I Oliver!” It was too cute. We stayed until the sun started to set and then headed back to the car. On the walk to the car I caught one of my favorite pictures of Brian and Oliver of all time.

 MoPac up to the house was smooth sailing and I found myself falling in love with our town once again. Well played, Austin. You’ve got a fan in me.

Chuckles

I don’t have the time or energy for a long post tonight but I wanted to jot down a few things that Oliver has done lately that have completely cracked me up. And most of them are related to his new trick... counting.

• Oliver started counting last week. He did great with one and two but kinda lost it after that. One of his first attempts went like this: “One. Two. Nine. Done!.” Now he consistently counts to three (I will get a video soon and post it). He will get to the top of the slide and sit down and yell: “One! Two! Three! Go!” and then slide down. The other day we went to the park with Dauphin and Kelly (more on that later because it was an awesome day) and Oliver was setting up to race Dauphin. He lined up with Dauphin and then counted to the start: “One! Two! Go!”  He totally skipped three. That little cheater. 

• We’ve been using time out for certain “infractions” lately with mixed success. The thing that always always always lands him in time out is playing in the dogs’ water bowl. He’s done well for awhile but in the last couple of weeks he has repeatedly splashed in the water bowl. When he screws up we put him in time out and tell him why he’s there. We also will tell him how much time he has left. At one point last week Brian even counted down the last ten seconds for him. On Sunday afternoon Oliver splashed in the dogs’ water, I put him in time out and told him why he was there and then tried to ignore him while he served his time. A few seconds later, however, he started shouting: “Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven!...”  He was counting down the end of his time out. It was so so so hard not to laugh. 

• He now calls the cats “girls” since he follows his dad’s example. Brian walks into the garage every morning and says to the cats: “Hi, girls.” Oliver now says the same. He can’t say boys for the dogs so he says “guys” which is his go to word for a lot of things - his toys, the dogs, the men who drive the recycling truck (who, by the way, made an unscheduled second pass on our street a few weeks ago because Oliver was outside cheering them on), the five year old boy who lives across the street whose name is Zakai (it’s pretty close, right?). 

That’s it for now. More later this week.

Slumber Party

I have been begging Laurie and Robin to let Lydia spend the night with us for awhile now both because she’s a super cool kiddo and the whole Contine family loves to spend time with her but also because Laurie and Robin do not have family near by and therefore don’t get a “night off” very often. Brian and I are lucky enough to get at least one a month with my parents so close so we really wanted to pay that good fortune forward and let Laurie and Robin experience something that we almost take for granted at this point (but mostly it was just because Lydia is so stinkin’ cute).

They finally obliged us the weekend before last. Lydia came over late Saturday afternoon and her parents headed off to dinner and a movie with plans for sleeping in and brunch the next day. When Lydia arrived we threw both kids into the car and headed to the grocery store to pick up some staples. How do you handle two toddlers at a grocery store? Like this:

Whoever designed this cart is clearly a genius. Or the parent of two kids. Two steering wheels = no fighting. They had fun the entire time spinning their steering wheels and honking their horns.

We got home and started the bed time routine. We got both kids in their pj’s and read stories:

And then Brian took Oliver to his room and I took Lydia to the office (which we had set up with our Pack N Play and the rocking chair from our bedroom) and we rocked and sang to our respective kiddos and put them to bed. They both chatted for awhile but were fast asleep before we knew it. 

The night went really well. Lydia woke up around 6:30 and Brian got up and played with her while Oliver and I slept in. When Oliver woke up around 7:30, Brian opened his door and let Lydia walk right in. Oliver got so excited to see “Lyds.” Brian picked her up and put her in the crib with Oliver and they played this game for about fifteen minutes:

Okay, I know I’m biased because I’m head over heels crazy about these two kiddos but that is ridiculously cute, right? I mean, when Oliver says: “All done!” and Lydia looks up at him with her big beautiful eyes and asks: “All done?” Sheesh. Too much cuteness. The game was eventually broken up by Lydia’s declaration that Oliver had pooped. She even checked his diaper to be sure. 

After the diapers were changed and everyone was dressed we all headed to Dan’s for breakfast where Oliver showed off his friend to the staff. After breakfast we headed back home to play. We went on a long walk (well, actually it was short walk but it took a long time):

And then had some snacks

How beautiful are they? Seriously. The kiddos played so well together the whole time, just a few squabbles that were easily settled. It was awesome how much they talked to each other, too. They would have entire conversations and sometimes Brian and I even knew what they were talking about.

Before we knew it Laurie and Robin were back and the slumber party was over. We all had such a great time and would do it again in a heartbeat.  

Music Class

Laurie and Robin started taking Lydia to Music Together classes at the Austin Lyric Opera last year and were always raving about how much they all loved it. So, for Christmas we asked Grandma and Grandpa Contine to give Oliver music classes. The session started the second week of January and we have been having such a great time with them ever since. It’s been awesome to see him enjoy the classes and learn so much. While he often takes a “sit back and watch” approach to the class while he’s there (the only exception being when it’s time to clean up), he is doing so many things from class at home. He’s even started to “sing” a little which is so cool to hear. He’s also completely in love with the teacher, Paula Rae. He sits right in front of her and just stares and stares when she sings (she has a beautiful voice). 

The class came with a CD of the music we sing in class and Oliver has listened to it so much he now has it memorized and has a sign or a word for each song as it plays (“Pop” for Pop Goes the Weasel, dance movements for songs like Don Alfredo Baila, miming driving a car for another song). Aidan and Lydia are both in his class and Oliver loves getting to hang out with them every Saturday morning. I’ve noticed that he’s had a bit of a verbal explosion since the classes started and I think the two are probably related. Every morning he wakes up, points at the stereo and says: “Class on please!” which is how he asks us to put the CD on.

Music education was a really important part of my childhood and I’m so excited to see how much Oliver loves listening to and making music already. I am so grateful to Ann and Bill for giving him this opportunity. Thanks, Grandma and Grandpa!

NFL Ref in Training

I watch a lot of football but I'm not really that into the game. I mostly watch for the referees. It's weird, I know. But I love all the penalty signals. I even have favorite NFL refs. So, once football season started I tried to teach Oliver the penalty signals. He's gotten pretty good. 

Happy 80th Birthday, Great-Great!

My grandmother turned 80 on January 12th and to celebrate my mom, Oliver and I drove up to spend a couple of nights in Midland. Oliver once again proved himself a decent traveler. We woke him up at 6 am on Saturday morning and threw him in the car for the six hour drive. It’s not the most exciting drive and Oliver did some protesting. He also proved himself to be pretty manipulative. Earlier that week he had learned to say: “I pooped” which was music to my ears since it signaled to me a step towards him being interested in potty training. However, it became his ticket out of his car seat on the long road trip. When he got bored he would look at us and say: “I pooped.” We were, of course, in the middle of West Texas without a gas station or rest area near by so we would tell him he had to wait and then we would stop. At this, he would wait a few minutes and then start whining: “My bum! My bum!” over and over again until we finally stopped. Every single time he did this we stopped and found an empty diaper. Every. Single. Time. He’s the boy who cried poop.

But the trip wasn’t all a waste. At one point I asked Oliver who we were going to see and he said: “Great-Great.” The first time he’s said her name. So, his birthday present to her was to say: “Hi, Great-Great!”

Anyway. We got to Midland on Saturday afternoon and went directly to my grandmother’s house. That night we all went out to dinner to celebrate Great-Great’s birthday. 

Sunday morning we went with Great-Great and Uncle Ken to their church. Oliver was so funny when we got there. He walked right up to all of my grandmother’s friends and held his hand out to shake theirs. He won a few fans. Sunday afternoon we spent some time with family and playing at Great-Great’s house. 

We had to head back on Monday but we had such a great time in Midland and were so glad to get to celebrate Great-Great’s 80th birthday.