Category Archives: Parenting

Dear Roper,

You’ve now been pinballing around this world for thirty-five months. Every night your dad or I ask you about your day and you answer, “I played and played and played and took a big, BIG nap!”  I aspire to be you, kid.

Little Bear, not only is your daily schedule ridiculously awesome, but this past month has been a carnival, custom designed for you! It started with a visit from Boo over the Fourth of July. You thoroughly enjoyed (once you warmed up to the idea) racing through the fountains at the splash pad, being chased by Boo. We watched the fireworks from Walla Walla state park and you were an enthusiastic contributor to the “oohs” and “ahhhs” in the crowd. Before the fireworks started, we were admiring the fat orange (still your most favoritest color EVER) moon.

BOO: Look at the big orange moon, Roper.

YOU: [sigh] I wish I could sit on that big, orange moon.

Me too, buddy.

Dude. You have an incredibly sensitive sniffer. You get this from me. As soon as your dad walks in the door I can tell what he had for lunch. You LOVE sniffing things and are constantly saying, “I smell something! What’s that?”

It’s safe to assume it’s your dad.

Up until this month, you referred to pinecones as “Christmas pineapples.” It’s all downhill from here – you’re growing up. Pretty soon you’ll realize that I can’t open garage doors with the power of my mind, the turtle didn’t eat the last pack of fruit snacks and that smell didn’t originate from your dad.

You’re in the preschool class now. Every time I drop you off your teacher tells me how stubborn you are. That everything you do has to be on your terms. But it’s a quiet stubborn – you’re good natured about it. AWESOME. The teacher is describing your dad to a tee. Now I have two of you to contend with. You guys are lucky you’re both cute!

The other day I told you “no” to something. I don’t remember what – the answer to most of your requests is no because a) we don’t own a fire extinguisher and b) our ER copay is ridiculous. You told me, “Mama, don’t say no to my heart. It’s fragile.”

What the what? You’re still TWO. Where do you come up with these things?

When I told you to pick up your toys and you responded, “Don’t talk to me like that, it’s bad for my energy.”  Am I sharing the apartment with a swami? Do I need to get you a crystal to sleep under?

Oscar and Tara visited us the weekend after the Fourth of July and you boys participated in the Crescent Bar parade. We hit the dollar store and covered your bikes with streamers, your necks with beads and your helmets with balloons. THIRD PLACE FOR BEST COSTUME, YO!  You guys rocked it – you won a medal and were mentioned in the local paper. You had so much fun hanging out with Oscar – it was a riot to watch you two play together!

You also got to play with all of the Steere cousins and extended family. A bunch of cousins from the Collins’ side of the family came over to Hog Hollow for a weekend of chaos and laughter. You even got to ride the miniature train at a birthday party.

You are surrounded by really fun, good people, Roper.

We took a family trip to Slidewaters with Papa and Nanny and you learned to cycle the little slides all on your own. We’d wait at the bottom and you’d run up the hill and come barreling down the slide with your goofy I’m-super-proud-of-myself-but don’t-want-anyone-to-know-it look on your face.  Little Bear, I am so proud of you! You keep taking on more and more responsibility and really running with it.

Your cousins Super Kate and Austintacious are visiting here from D.C. You play so hard with them that it’s exhausting just to watch – I love it. You and I joined Papa, Nanny, Kate and Austin at Pearrygin Lake to camp. Did you know your dad used to camp at Pearrygin Lake all the time? It was cool to experience a little slice of his childhood with you.

You and your cousins biked a little loop by the camp site. Part of the loop was uphill and had a hose running across it, and Austin would sometime get stuck there and not be able to start again (he’s on training wheels).  Each time, you would follow him and try to push his bike with your front tire, and then lay your bike down so you could push your cousin over the hose and up the hill. You’d watch to make sure Austin kept his momentum, and then race back to your bike, get on it and start the whole process again. I was so proud when a neighboring camper stopped by to ask about your age and marvel at your problem solving skills.

Your sense of teamwork is impeccable at times and you’ve really been showing an interest in being helpful. You even helped me make a bike trail at the property! This might be the first time I’ve ever understood why people have more than one kid…

Your picture ran in the Wenatchee World. The amount of press you get in this town is approaching obnoxious. Little Bear, there is something about you that captures people.

You’re usually too busy playing to cuddle. If you show any indication of wanting snuggle, our first assumption is that you’re getting sick. Your dad says you’re like me – as cuddly as a porcupine. But occasionally you find yourself “full of kissies” and feel the need to make out with me. This always seems to happen when we’re in public and you become obsessed with kissing me. In a word, AWKWARD.

But I know it’s a fleeting moment that will become even rarer with time, so I savor it.

It’s like those rare moments when you decide to “sleep in a sunbeam like a kitty” and lie still on the carpet, in a sunbeam, looking at peace with the world. I love seeing you in all of your different moods, experiencing the world and trying to find your way in it. You are learning and growing so fast that it makes my head spin.

You’re the coolest sidekick around, Little Bear. Your huge personality can be a challenge and I see a lot of disagreements in our future, but I wouldn’t trade that for anything. I love every bit of you, sweet boy. With a ferocity that only a mama could muster.

Love,

Your Mama

Dear Roper,

Today you are twenty-two months old.  You’re kind of advanced though; you’ve been in your “terrible twos” for quite some time.  And I LOVE IT.  Mostly.

You want to do everything yourself and drop to the ground, kicking and screaming, when you don’t get what you want.   You get frustrated when you can’t master a skill in 2.5 seconds, but you’ve definitely mastered the fake cry.

Thankfully, you spend most of the time being your awesome self: loud, determined, entertaining, and curious.  You fill a room with your personality.

When I give you a PB&J sandwich, you carefully peel it apart for maximum mess potential.  You like to smear it in your hair.  You usually sleep with a car (or a book about trucks) in each hand.  Every car, picture of a car, or car noise must be acknowledged.  You use our car as your personal playpen and are so very pleased with yourself when you’re in there alone, turning knobs, pushing buttons and eating Chapstick.  Every truck is “Daddy guk” and every motorcycle is “Daddy bike.”

Your favorite phrase is “No,  Mama GO!” while you’re waving me away with your hands.  Did I mention you want to do everything yourself?

It’s fun to hear you string words together to form sentences.  While your dad was on his motorcycle trip, (which you will eventually get to join because you have a penis!)  we went to visit Boo and The Heeeeed in Stanwood.  Boo is a Speech Nerd so she counted how many words you know and at that point it was 75-80, and you’ve probably learned at least 15 more.  You’re a verbal little monkey!  Every day you bust out with at least one new word that surprises me.

You had a blast visiting with Boo and I’m very proud that we trained you to refer to Jeff as The Heeeed.  Because the dude has a giant head.  GIANT.  I think it weighs more than you.  You loved following Jeff around, being spoiled by Becky and joyously making out with Max The Dog.

When you’re tired but fighting it, you stick your binky in your ear.  Or a little car, or the magnet from the fridge.   Orange is your favorite color.  In fact, it’s the only color you acknowledge.  You will find the tiniest bit of orange in any object.  When I ask you what color the (blue) shirt is, you’ll point to a microscopic piece of orange lint and say “orange” emphatically.  In a similar run of obsessive stubbornness, you refuse to acknowledge your name.  This isn’t frustrating to your mom AT ALL.

Little Bear, you are a total water baby.  You LOVE swimming and had so much fun playing in the pool with your Cooper cousins over the last two weeks.  You jump into my arms from the side of the pool and kick and shriek with delight.  Watching your cousins jump in, or better yet, be thrown in, earns a deep belly laugh from you.  You never wanted to leave the pool so we’d have to force you out of the pool when your teeth started chattering from cold.

We went to Slidewaters with the Cooper cousins, grandparents and the Hildenbrands.  We started on the baby slides and you’d sit it my lap, head held high with a stoic look on your face.  Once we landed, you’d give a little kick of approval and unsmilingly demand to go again.  By the time we were on the big slides you’d chortle the whole way down, do a happy dance at the end and frantically sign “more” with your hands while repeating “Go. More. Up. Go. MORE!”  I think you enjoyed it.

It’s possible that your parents expect too much from you.   When your dad was in charge of you at the pool he let you almost drown three times within as many minutes (Editor’s Note:  your dad would have said “swim” not “almost drown” so it was probably something in between the two).  You took it in stride.  At Slidewaters, not only did your mama flash innocent children – twice – but I also made Grandma send you down the smallest slide by yourself.  BECAUSE I’M FUN.  I was waiting at the bottom to catch you and things were going PERFECTLY for the first three seconds.  Then you toppled over and torpedoed at me, head first and on your back.  Alas, I did not have my catching mitt with me so my catch was…the words frantic, clumsy and seemingly painful come to mind.  You cried for about two seconds and then demanded more.

Yesterday, I received a bunch of paintings by your Great-grandma Bee.  Two were of me at about your age.  I know the Steeres love to claim you as theirs, saying you look just like a Steere (you do) and you have the personality of a Steere Boy (you do).  But I think they sometimes forget that your mama has always been more of a risk taker than your daddy, and you look SUSPICIOUSLY like a Cooper here.  At least 50%.

So you’re a hilarious mix of your dad and mama.  The best part is that both of us love you from the top of that crazy natural mohawk to the tips of your sweaty little toes.  And guess what?  You have two sets of grandparents that love you just as much!  You now ask for your Papa, Nanny, Oma and Opa by name.  Usually when you’re not getting what you want from your parents.

Little Bear, you are growing up way too fast for me (I know, I say that every time.  And it’s STILL TRUE).  When I see you trotting across the property with your short little steps and your Carhart cap on your head, you look far more like a little boy than a baby.  And that squeezes my heart just a bit.  You’ve become such a wild, hilarious, sweet little man and I am so proud of you.   I’m grateful for every second of chaos you provide (sometimes it takes a few hours and a stiff drink before I appreciate that day’s chaos, but it eventually happens).  I love you to the moon and back!

Love,

Your Mama

PS.  Here’s a VIDEO of you acting like a wild man and jumping on your mama while she was trying to rest her injured neck.  And I wonder why I never heal….  ;)

Dear Poo Man Chu,

Yesterday you turned 20 months old.  You are loud and strong-willed and hilarious.  You still go to daycare one day a week and your caregivers swear up and down that you are their favorite.  Your Grandma says you never cry or throw tantrums under her watch.  When I take you out in public you act docile and relaxed.  I HEREBY OFFER YOU AN OSCAR for your acting chops, because none of that describes the kid I’m entertaining as I desperately try to run a business.

The kid I spend all of my waking hours with (save that blessed Wednesday that sits like an island oasis amid of the rough seas of life) is LOUD and BUSY and OPINIONATED and an absolute RIOT.   You provide fodder for great stories.  Great stories that garner a lot of laughter after the apologies and cleanup have taken place. 

Let’s take the other evening for example.  It was your dad’s birthday.  We met your Grandma, Papa Bear and Opa at La Fuente (Mexican restaurant).  I should have checked you for contraband.  WHEN WILL I LEARN?  You walked into the restaurant with a huge rock in your hand and you threw it with all your might.  It ricocheted off the dinner table and almost beaned your grandma in the noggin.  You have a good arm.  You then proceeded to eat the hot salsa, dump a glass of milk down your chest, shamelessly flirt with the little girl at the next table, eat off the floor, fill a glass full of limes, chips and water, and eat your dessert AND mine.  You’re lucky I didn’t bite your hand off.

As the grand finale, after your bath you ran around naked and then climbed up onto our bed and TOOK A GIANT MAN DUMP.  Dude, totally uncool.  How are you anybody’s “favorite” when you pull stunts like that?

It’s that smile.  I can’t resist you when you shrug your shoulders up tight and lay that huge grin on me.

My favorite part of the day is climbing into your crib when you wake up from a nap.  Everything disappears and we are the only two inhabitants of our world…aside from your 500 stuffed animals.  We wrestle, tickle, cuddle and talk.  Sometimes we just look at each other.  It is sublime.

You’ve had a busy month.  We went to Smallwoods, the Apple Blossom Kiddie Carnival and Kid’s Parade.  You weren’t big enough to go on any of the rides at the carnival, but you somehow charmed the carnies into letting you ride.  Stoically you’d go around and around on the motorcycle/boat/truck/dragon, not ever cracking a smile – its serious business after all.  But, boy would you shriek when we tried to pry you off the ride.

I took you to Swallow Festival, which is an annual event in Ardenvoir.  When I was younger it drew a rougher crowd – I remember people riding their motorcycles into the bar at Cooper’s Store (your great-grandaddy’s store at the time).  You checked out all the motorcycles on display and you loved the tractors in the parade.   

This month was all about cousins.  You got to hang out with Cousin Anthony (who gave you a Cozy Coupe and motorcycle!) at Crescent Bar, you participated in your first Bloomsday run and visited with my four Collins cousins and eight of your second cousins – it was pure chaos and you loved every minute of it.  And yesterday we drove to Bellevue to celebrate Tayla Ann and Wyatt’s birthdays!  Next month you get to spend a week with the Cooper cousins.  You love being around the big kids.

Earlier in the month your dad and I went on vacation in Mexico without you.  For a WEEK!  It was our first vacation in years and it was positively glorious – but we missed you.  We went diving, snorkeling, exploring, and touring, but you were never far from our minds.  Just far enough for me to actually relax and stop my brain from flipping through a Rolodex of to-do lists. 

You stayed with your Grandma and Papa Bear and had a blast.  In fact, you wanted nothing to do with us the one time we called to check in.  We were reunited on Easter morning and you proceeded to pout the entire day.  On Monday morning I was awakened with cries of “Ewwww, poo poo!  Ewwww, poo poo!”  Son, you had smeared your feces all over your crib.  Welcome home, Mama!

FYI, if you’re sophisticated enough to know it deserves an “Ewwwww,” then you should be depositing it in the toilet.  I’m just sayin’…

After your show of displeasure via your poop, you warmed up to us again.  Little Bear, you are so much fun.  You’re starting to put words together and you’re hungry to learn the name of everything you see.  You change on a daily basis and look more grown up each morning I peek at you in your crib.  Your smile is toothier and your hair is getting long and crazy (and still grows in a natural mohawk).   I’m waiting to cut it until Oma gets home because she adores your blond curls.

I’ve said this before, but I am just your handler.  You are the star.  You are recognized on the street far more often than I am.  I’m pretty sure that you’re going to end up famous or infamous and it makes me a little nervous.  But even on tough days, all you have to do is grin and giggle and my world lights up.  You make each day more meaningful and joyful than the last.  Even with all of the poop.  I love you to the moon and back, Little Bear!

Love,

Your Mama