Sudden Burst of Activity

Normally, we're not busy people in the sense of having stuff to do outside the house.  My husband works and has a two-hour commute, so he's out of the house a lot, but because we only have one car and also just because of the sort of people we are, my son and I are home a lot.  Just home, doing our thing.  We make play-dough and cook lunch and hang out with the dogs and about as exciting as most of our days gets is taking a nice walk to the post office with grandma (my mom). 

Lately, though, there's been this flurry of activity.  For one thing, the school here started a preschool program for 3-year-olds.  It's just twice a week, for an hour and a half each time, but it's big for my son.  He loves going there and having other kids to play with.  I'm guessing they don't lecture him on the evils of wasting food.   He also takes a tumbling class once a week now that we have to drive into "town" (the nearest city, about 50 miles away).  It's been so good for him to start to get out.  He loves me a lot, and I love him, but being home with mom all the time has got to be freakin boring.  So, he's happy.

I've heard a lot of people say that kids with stay-at-home moms have a hard time adjusting to being away from their moms, that they get clingy and needy when they have to go off to preschool.  That has not been our experience.  Before he started preschool, he did go through some times when he was scared and sad about it, but the first day, he walked into class and said, "Mama, all the kids are here!"  He never even looked back to watch me leave, man.  The little traitor.  No, I'm just kidding.  I'm glad. 

Then, I finally had my first prenatal visit (I know, it was long overdue).  At 14.2 weeks old and 8.25 cm, this kid is a feisty one.  Good lord.  I can already feel the kid doing somersaults and breakdances in there, and lo and behold, on the ultrasound, the doctor could hardly get a freeze frame to measure the kid in due to all the movement.  But, I am currently assuming that friskiness is a sign of good health, and there is a strong heartbeat and an obvious zest for amniotic fluid, so I think we're good.  Due May 20.  I'm not sure if intrauterine activity levels are a reliable indicator of postnatal rowdiness--with my son, there was a distinct correlation; in the womb, he seemed to never rest, and he has been resistant to things like naps since the day he was born--but I just have this feeling that we're in for another lively, rambunctious monkey around the house.

The same night I found myself watching Love Actually and crying and crying.  I am not normally a person who cries at Hugh Grant vehicles.  You're just going to have to take my word for it. 

And today we went to what may be the biggest social event of the year in our town:  The Turkey Shoot.  Much to my son's disappointment, this does not involve shooting actual turkeys.  The primary event at this is a shooting competition, and the prizes for the winners of each round are turkeys.  It's a fundraiser--for our local Lions Club, I think.  Anyway, there's also bingo and a pellet shooting contest for kids under 11 (kids 11 and over can shoot in the regular contest).  They raffle off a quilt.  There are hot dogs.  That kind of thing.  Last year, my husband, who likes shooting, was not able to attend because of his work schedule, but this year he came, and he was impressed by the very idea of shooting real guns with real bullets inside a building (the community center).  The guns were just .22 rifles, and they had some kind of stuff behind the targets to catch the bullets.  There were no accidents; nobody went crazy and started shooting people; nothing went awry.  Men and women alike competed, just like boys and girls competed against each other equally in the pellet shooting contest (my son actually shot in the pellet shooting contest, despite the fact that he couldn't hold the gun on his own.  He won a small prize for his trouble, which was more than enough to thrill him).  We won a turkey, although we won ours at a dice game.  My husband is a good shot, and in my opinion he should have won his second round, but I guess someone else's was a millimeter or so closer.  Whatever.  We got our turkey.

After the turkey shoot, we had to spend 10 minutes wetting my son's hair and taming it into place with the aid of "styling lotion" in order to dress him up in his suit and go get the Christmas card picture taken.  Once a year--another fundraiser, this time for the PTA--an excellent photographer comes into town and sets up shop in the elementary school cafeteria so everyone in town can get their Christmas card photos done.  And so approximately once a year, my son gets his hair combed.  We usually just let him walk around with bedhead, though we do keep his hair fairly short.  My son is such a ham in front of the camera, and the photographers love him and take about 20 pictures of him, and then I have a hard time deciding.  They're all so cute.  In one of them, he's got his one foot up on a little stool, and with his hand, he's straightening out the bottom of his vest with a kind of serious look on his face.  He looks just like a little gentleman.  I, of course, know that he's actually a hoodlum, but he hides it well.  Anyway, Christmas cards ordered.

Thankfully, tomorrow is a day of rest.  My husband does have to work, but not until 4 p.m., so we'll get all morning as a family to hang out in our PJs and maybe make some pancakes and bacon.  Delightful.