Learning to share

Just before school started, we decided that it was time for Quinn to say good bye to his crib and transition into a big boy bed. While our first attempt months ago was not successful, this time went much smoother. We fully cleaned his room....grandma style. In the process, Quinn taught Mama a lesson.

After moving out all of his furniture into every open space upstairs, a small voice said, "I want to play with that truck." This very special semi was only a decoration in his room until this point. It was my truck....my grandpa's truck, made just for me with his old calloused hands.

After World War 2, Grandpa Gunvalson made trucks and toys for the kids in Spring Valley when there wasn't money for Christmas presents. Later, Uncle Chris got one when Grandpa's hands were smooth enough to still feel for a fine sanded finish. Late in his life, he made trucks for the girls. Rougher, aged, calloused hands and cracked finger tips, no longer able to feel the smooth, glass like surface....made trucks just for us...just for me. As a child, Chris played with his. Mine had not been touched. It was just my special truck.

So when Quinn asked for the truck, I faced the decision to keep the truck just for me, or to allow Quinn to have it. Toys are toys. He drives his trucks in the drive way and digs with them in the dirt. But those trucks can easily be replaced. A trip to the toy store is just minutes way. But Grandpa's hands are an eternity away.

A tearful conversation with Brian and his wise advice that Grandpa would have loved nothing more than to have his great grandson play with the truck, especially having had no son's of his own, lead to mama to learn to share. I battled my selfishness reluctantly, wanting to hold on to this physical connection to a man of such noble character, to hold on to this truck that represented a diligent work ethic, a generous spirit, and loving heart....my Grandpa...Quinn became the new owner of the special silver semi made just for him so many years before his birth by a man who would have been so madly in love with him.

Time changes everything

Back when I actually had to use a nasal aspirator (or as we say...booger sucker), Quinn HATED it. It was nearly impossible to use them between his screams and squirms. Today I heard a nasally giggle coming from his room and found this scene. He is all boy--dirt, boogers, trucks, farts. However, he very politely excuses himself when needs to.

Milwaukee Zoo

Grandma took the day off of work so that we could go to the zoo. Quinn stayed awake the whole ride down and was ready to roll as soo as we got there. He walked most of the day, only using the stroller near the end of the day. With no nap, Quinn was a trooper...not a whine or a complaint. Aside from his stellar behavior, the highlight for me was his diaper...dry the whole day and he used the potty three times at the zoo and once at a restaurant on the way home because mama and grandma were too tired to make dinner.

Quinn's highlights were the elephants (and their "big poopy")

and riding the train.

Work in progress part 4...not for the faint of heart

This is a grossly proud mama moment....probably not something I should post..but I reserve the right as a mom to do what I want. Brian was out of town this week and missed the first poop on the potty. So...I took a picture. Gross...very...but a dad needs to have his proud papa moment too.

The story goes like this....Quinn and I were playing outside. He said his butt hurt. I asked if he had a poopy coming. He said no. Then, a few minutes later said he needed a change. We went inside only to find a clean dry diaper. So outside we went and again he said his butt hurt. So inside and upstairs to the potty. He sat down and out it came...we danced and cheered, wiped, and took pictures. I know he'll kill me in about 15 years, but that's a chance I'm willing to take.

Quinn was pretty proud too. We had dinner with Grandma Golden that night. "I went poopy" were the first words out of his mouth. He may have even told the waitress too.

While it hasn't happened since...there is hope.

Packer practice

Lambeau Field is just a 25 minute drive from our house. We decided that Quinn might get a kick out of going to a football "game." While it was only practice, he didn't really know or care. He just knew that it was footbal and that's all that mattered.

People line up at the entrance to the practice field. Kids can bring their bike and have the players ride their bikes to practice. Quite a sight to see these giant men riding itty bitty bikes. One guy rode a bike with training wheels.

We arrived before most of the crowd so we sat right in front. Quinn mimicked everything the players did...too funny.

While he never figured out who this guy is....

He'll proudly tell you who this guy is.

Work in progress part 3

While diapers are still in our house and we are not so brave with big boy underwear....Pee no longer eludes the potty. We are not yet at the point of Quinn telling us when he has to go, but every few hours, he'll go if we tell him too. So now....his initiative to go and poop are our next steps.

What is camping?

We took our first family camping trip. My girl scout skills came out in their prime. Dad did really well learning new things. Quinn had tons of fun....and even slept well in the tent even though he stayed up WAY past bedtime. The Meyers boys learned one important lesson from mom....pudgy pies rock.