Stock Show!

On Saturday morning, we took James to the National Western Stock Show, an annual event held here in Denver that is a combination of a state fair, a rodeo, and a farmer's auction. We met some of our good friends and two of Jamie's best buddies: Iris and Adelaide. They had a great time, though their main interests were a pile of gravel used to create traction on snowy pavement and the plywood ramp that led up to one of the official doors. We probably could've saved the ticket price and just hung out by the dumpsters of a Home Depot for the morning, but somehow that doesn't seem like good parenting.

Our friend Ann, Iris's mom, took some great photos of the outing:

http://picasaweb.google.com/lh/sredir?uname=ann.scharf&target=ALBUM&id=5560014512469053441&authkey=Gv1sRgCI64p72zzf3tbw&invite=CLzQ9NoJ&feat=email

Fun in the Snow! Well, kind of...

Last Sunday James & I set out to ring in the new year with a bit of sledding. He was very excited to play in the snow and was bundled up nicely in his new winter coat, courtesy of his cousin Caleb:

In the snow!

We hopped in the wagon and walked down the street to the levee at our favorite wetlands spot (where we look for snakes in summer). We mounted the hill and, thinking that there wasn't all that much snow and that our sled wasn't all that good, I was skeptical that we would move at all. James eagerly climbed in my lap and I pushed off...and quickly realized that we were wrong. We zoomed down the hill at an out-of-control speed, caught an edge, wiped out, and rolled at least three times. It was scary for both of us -- I cradled James and protected him from injury, but didn't guard my head well enough to avoid getting a nasty bump. James got a face full of snow and was terrified, but was otherwise OK. We returned home after this one run, James eager for the comfort of mommy's arms, some warm milk, and snuggling with his blanky while watching "Cars" for the 1,523rd time. And I felt like a dunce, thankful that James was unharmed but fearing that he'll never want to go sledding with daddy again.

This is the Life!

We love Craig's List and yesterday Eric found a family selling old wooden train track and some engines and cars. He came home from his adventure with a special surprise for James. The family threw in, for free, a toddler Thomas the Tank Engine armchair. It is soft and cuddly...two things James loves. He proceeded to sit in the chair most of the night and looked rather relaxed (as you can see) enjoying his milk, his blanket, and a little pre-bedtime TV.

When it was time for bed he insisted we bring the chair with us. He sat in his chair under his blankets while I read him his bedtime stories. When it was time for me to leave I asked him if he wanted to stay in his chair or lay down. He said, "Stay in my chair."

I checked in on him a little later and although he was no longer sitting in the chair, he was laying with his head resting on the seat. I decided to leave well enough alone and check in one more time before I went to bed. Before going to sleep ourselves Eric and I found him snoring peacefully with his legs propped up on the chair. We gently removed it and set it next to his bed on the floor.

Not to be put off so easily when James woke up this morning he came happily out of his room carrying his new chair. I think all in all it was money well spent.

Talkative Boy

Eric sent me this e-mail and I couldn't resist sharing. The subject heading was "A brief excerpt of my dialogue with James on the way to school this morning..."

Here it is...

I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. Have it. Have it. Have it. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. Have it. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. Have it. Have it. I want my turtle. Have it. Have it. Have it. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. Have it. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. Have it. Have it. Have it. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. Have it. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. Have it. Have it. I want my turtle. Have it. Have it. Have it. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. Have it. Have it. Have it. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. Have it. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. Have it. Have it. I want my turtle. Have it. Have it. Have it. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. Have it Have it. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. Have it. Have it. Have it. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. Have it. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. Have it. Have it. I want my turtle. Have it. Have it. Have it. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. Have it. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. Have it. Have it. Have it. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. Have it. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. Have it. Have it. I want my turtle. Have it. Have it. Have it. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle. I want my turtle.

The Fine Art of the Insult

Friday afternoon I was riding my bike home after picking James up at daycare. It was a cool fall evening, the skies darkening early. James was tucked safely in the trailer, bundled in his winter clothes and a snugly blanket. There is one marginally steep slope on the way home that can be a bit of a challenge after a long day. As I was approaching this hill, I requested, "James, say 'Daddy, you can do it!'"

Immediately he did: "Daddy, you can do it!"

He then followed this with, "Daddy, try harder!"

At this, I burst into laughter and, of course, found the energy to pedal up the hill. At first, I thought this incredibly encouraging and sweet. James must have picked up on my reaction, because every thirty seconds or so for the rest of the ride home, he commanded, "Daddy, try harder!" One or two times of this is encouraging; after that, it becomes progressively more insulting, especially when you're already trying.

***

The following morning, I asked James what he wanted for breakfast. Being much like his mother, he declared, "Pizza!" So I obliged and made him a pizza bagel (kind of a compromise). As he chowed down, I asked, "Is it yummy?"

He replied, "No, it's yucky" through a mouthful of pizza bagel.

Taken aback, I said, "You're yucky."

He quickly responded, "No, you're yucky."

The boy has a quick wit.

Trains! Trains! Trains!

Last Sunday, I took James and his best buddy Benton to the "Great Train Expo". Being boys, they of course love trains and especially Thomas the Tank Engine and friends. They had a great time running around, watching trains go 'round and 'round, and of course sneaking under a couple rope barriers to get closer to things they shouldn't have (though they never touched anything they shouldn't have, they did make a few model train enthusiasts nervous). I got a couple cute photos of the boys watching a G-scale train running on ground level -- perfect for toddlers!

11.11.07 -- Train Show with Benton

Trick-or-Treat (Or, "I want more")

Yesterday was James' first trick-or-treating adventure. At first, he was a bit hesitant, but once he realized that he could collect unlimited free candy, including chocolate, which we would let him eat without restriction, he was all in. While he invariably used his manners and said "thank you" each time he received a treat, he was not adept at saying "trick-or-treat!" when approaching a candy-giver. At one house, he approached a nice woman in a witch hat with a bowl of candy. I prompted him with, "What do you say?" He held out his pumpkin bucket and declared, "I want more!"