Bananas and clubs

I have been spending what little creative energy that I have on the speech that I am trying to write - the one that currently has three beginnings, two endings, and no middle  - that I am giving to a group of graduating high school students on June 9.  And so I haven't put as much into this blog as I would have liked to recently.  That will probably be the case until the weight of the speech is off of my shoulders.  But every day there is something that happens or something is said, and I think, "I have got to write this down."  Wouldn't it be great to have a memory that you could recall like flipping to a page in a book?  I find that more often than not I can hardly remember the funny things, or even the poignant things, that happen in my daily life.  Last night, for example, John brought up a memory that was nearly gone, one with Cortlan at probably one and a half years old, hardly able to talk, singing, "Baby, baby, baby!"  at the dinner table.  I mean singing.  Like, belting out in a James Brown kind of way.  Once triggered, I remembered egging him on, singing it right back to him, laughing as he kept up his serenade.  I don't want to forget those things.

So, a snapshot of Thursday, for better or for worse:

John had an early meeting, hence, I was on my own dropping the kiddos off at school.  This always presents a little bit of a logistical problem for me, as there is a lot of stuff and a lot of toddler energy to carry into the building.  The three of us walked into Cortlan's room first, as he is not allowed in Everly's room, with the intent of dropping him and his stuff off so that I could proceed to Everly's room, get her situated, and then return to his room to give him his cereal and his proper goodbye's.  Unfortunately, it wasn't that easy.  If Everly gets within two feet of Cortlan's room, that is where she wants to stay.  I put her down for two seconds (mistake #1), and she started blowing me kisses goodbye, which was super cute, but the sense of foreboding overwhelmed the "awww!" factor at that moment.  She wouldn't let me pick her up.  She wailed.  And I ended up grabbing her like a screaming sack of potatoes to get her out of the room.  I forgot her banana in the car (mistake #2), and had to leave her for a second.  I am sure she thought I was abandoning her with no breakfast and no kiss goodbye, as she was inconsolable by the time I got back.  So much for the banana.  She was so upset that she didn't eat for another forty-five minutes.  She had settled down within that time, though, and didn't even notice me when I arrived to pick her up in the afternoon, she was so busy having fun playing.  But, needless to say, Everly likes routine. 

As for Cortlan...he has been testing a lot more these days.  There seems to be an ebb and flow with him, as I am sure is the case with all kids.  But just as we all get into a nice groove, he begins to try again to see what he can get away with.  There seems to be motive, conscious or not, to everything he does.  Dinner might take an hour and a half if we let it, which I totally do not understand.  If he finishes, he gets to play longer and we get to do other fun things.  Instead, we sit at the dinner table.  And it isn't that he doesn't want to eat...if we tell him that we are going to take his plate, he gets upset.  He wants to eat it.  He just wants to eat it ssssslllllllloooooooowwwwwwwlllllllllyyyyy.  When he finally finished dinner yesterday, there was actually enough time to play outside for a bit (good thing we started eating at 5:15), and much to my delight, Cortlan decided he wanted to ride his bike.  (He is still struggling a bit with getting the pedals going forward, and sometimes he gets stuck.  So, I am always happy when he gives it another shot.)  He had a destination this time:  His quilting club.  And he was taking his motorcycle, he told me.  Quilting club??  Yep.  He was insistent.  But he had to get gas first.  And then fix his tire.  And then he was "off to quiltin' club."  (Any readers of this care to provide insight as to where that may have come from?  I have my suspicions.)

I have to give my speech a couple of weeks from now, and I find it interesting that fifteen years ago, I sat in that same banquet hall as a student, and that fifteen years from now, Cortlan will be the one graduating.  If the next fifteen years go as fast as the last fifteen (and I have a feeling they will go even faster), I better hold on to my hat.  And to the memories.