Saturday, June 13, 2009

Today was... normal.

So much of our day today would have looked completely normal to the average family - and we couldn't be more pleased about that.

This morning, Stu took the 6am shift with Ryan and let me stay in bed.
Generally I only get to sleep in on Mother's Day or my birthday, because from age 18 months up until the last two weeks, Ryan has been beyond attached to me and has completely rejected anything to do with his father. Last month, he would have screamed for me if Stu tried to participate in the morning routine.

Then Ryan got dressed in his Curious George t-shirt.
Although Curious George is Ryan's favorite character, this was the first time he permitted us to dress him in a shirt with a face on it.

We got in the car and put Ryan in his new booster seat. He had no problem with it.
Usually, even the smallest change becomes a big deal to him.

I gave Ryan a bag of sand toys and told him we were going to play in the sand at the beach. "Sandbox!" he cheered enthusiastically.
Ryan has had some issues with sand.

A light rain started hitting the windshield. I decided we should keep going, and maybe the weather would clear.

"Sandbox!" he interjected.

We stopped at a traffic light.


The entire car ride continued like this.

We parked the car. "Sandbox!" It was still drizzling, but it was the least-rainy day we've had in weeks, so we decided to skip the beach and join the dozens of other wet families on the playground.

He ran for the playground, climbed, went on the slides. I pointed out that there was a small sandbox in the park. He stepped around it to get to a ladder. I asked if he wanted his sand toys; he totally ignored me.

While playing, he slipped and fell in the mud. He didn't freak out - he just requested a towel and went on playing.
Being dirty usually makes him wail.

When it was time for lunch, he didn't complain about having to leave the park. He waited patiently in the car as we drove to a diner.
I can't remember the last time we successfully ate with him in a restaurant.

He stayed at the table throughout the meal. He didn't cry, scream, wander, or try to climb into the next booth. When I excused myself to go to the ladies room, he stayed at the table with Stu and ate his lunch.
See traditional unhappiness with Daddy, above.

In the afternoon, we went out to play with the neighborhood kids in the back yard. Ryan chased them around and got grabby when they tried to take his ball.
This is very, very new. Ryan's teachers tell me that being possessive of toys shows more normal connection with other people, as opposed to indifference. Before, if someone took his toy, he would move on to something else rather than bother interacting with the other kid.

The ordinary can truly be the most extraordinary.


  1. So now I am crying. I guess it's too late to call you at midnight.

  2. Hallie is also at the "mine" stage and is beginning to defend her possessions at preschool. Her teachers are treating this behavior the same way as Ryan's did--by celebrating it. It's interesting to watch how she is working this out at home with Lea, her one year old sister, where she often says things like "No, Lea, this is my toy!" At school, she truncates her defense to "No, MINE!" This does show interconnectedness, I think.


Keep it civil, people.