Weekend report

No running yet. I’m not well enough right now. Onwards.

This weekend was one of those weekends you kind of live for as a parent.

Saturday Noah and I hung out until his gymnastics class, to which Carl took him while I hit grocery stores. He loved it and came home and showed off different kinds of jumps. Then I think I laid down for a bit, but after that and Noah’s nap, we went out to the big bookstore to browse for a while. Mostly he played with the trains (despite having a ton of Brio & Thomas stuff at home, it’s more fun at the bookstore). Then we hit a restaurant for a treat for dinner, ignoring my meal plan, and Noah was so. into. it. And well behaved. And just a joy.

Gratuitous weirdness: Noah was given “Thomas the Magic Railroad” by my parents which is as far from the really nice Rev. Audry stories as you can get and into insipid, idiotic children’s drek. (No real blame to them; you can’t tell from the cover.) Noah, of course, loved it. I think one of the reasons he loves it is because there is a villain, Diesel 10, with whom he has become obsessed. Nothing else we’ve shown him (err… besides the Incredibles *cough*) really has a villain. So he goes on at some length about Diesel 10 and his crunchy claw.

So at dinner, Noah announces “Claw ends in ‘w’.”

????!!

I’m assuming his teachers at school spelled it out for him. But… um?

Today was my turn to take Noah to a class, swimming. We discovered he is big enough to stand in the (very shallow side, but not baby) pool! Also, he can put his face in and blow bubbles. The class is still the mum-tot class; technically he is old enough to do the “go off with the solo instructor” class but I have a thing about not pushing kids past their comfort zone in the pool too early. He enjoyed the pace of the mum-tot class fine.

Then I needed a nap. Which horrified me. This is not ‘out of shape’ – seriously – this is ‘ill.’

Afterwards we went apple picking though and it was great. He could reach apples and picked them really well, even looking for the red cheek on the Crispins. It was about 3 hours of effort (drive there, park, wait for wagon to far orchard, ride wagon, pick, wait for wagon, come back, weigh/pay) for 15 minutes of effort but boy did he get that apples grow on trees, we pick them, etc. Carl, who grew up where apple picking is more work than privilege, was kind of shocked at both the number of families there and that it costs just about the same as buying them at the grocery store (plus one’s own gas). I was just happy to have the day outside and the taste of fresh apples.

Despite my reasonable certainty that whatever is wrong with me is not some deadly cancer, I did find myself, freaked out from the need for a nap and the trouble I was having with simply walking down the rows, thinking that these are the memories I would want to make. So that’s a good thing.