Night Games

It's that time of year that I remember so well as a child- when you could escape outdoors right after dinner to play with your friends in that golden hour between dishes and baths. I so remember hurrying hurrying hurrying through the dishes when it was my night- agonizing as my mom took her time washing- seeing my brothers slip on their light spring jackets and head out the sliding glass door. As soon as I was done with the last dish I would follow them. And out back I would find the neighborhood collected- everyone in grade school anyway. We would split into teams and do a quick horsengoggle (how do you spell that?) to see which team got to quickly fade into the fields that abutted our neighborhood and hide. The other team was IT and we had to count and then go find them....We called the game ditch and it was a marvelous combination of hide and seek and tag and mayhem. For years now I have agonized just a little because it didn't seem like my boys would have those same memories...occasionally we will have a bunch of friends gathered somewhere and the kids will play an awesome night game- all of them thrilled to the bone to be running around in the glowering dark. But it's not regular- there didn't seem to be any crowd in the neighborhood who would play day in and day out. But now it's happened. There are enough kids who can be let outdoors on their own and trusted not to run pellmell into the street. Eli's the oldest, but that suits him fine. He likes taking care of little ones. Theo is right in the middle of the pack and seems to shine there- sometimes trying desperately to keep up, other times helping to guide a little guy. It's quickly become the habbit that as dinner is wrapping up I notice their eyes sneaking peaks outside- their ears are perked up for the sound of kids laughing. And then they are gone. Shoes on and out the door- thrilled to play their version of ditch. There are no fields to run in here in St. Paul, and their territory is only a couple houses' front and back yards before they run into fences- but it is a whole new world to them and they are loving it. What's not to love about running around in the evening, hefting a nerf weapon, playing night games? Of course, since it is Minnesota- soon night will not really set in until well after their bedtime, but that doesn't matter right now- that lovely aspect of these games will come again in the fall. For now they will take that golden hour and run with it- returning to the house relunctantly when called (my mom had a bell she would ring and everyone knew the Sages had to go) eyes bright, fingers chilled, hearts beating strong.

Change

As the sun comes out earlier and stronger and longer, I am in the house less and less. I look for every chance to get outside on a nice day. I'd be out there right now but the wind is gusting about 40 mph and I feel a little parched from being windblown for the past few hours. The greatest part of this weather trend is that I have been able to talk Eli into getting out with me- he bikes while I run. Earlier this spring, before he got this new bike with gears, we were a pretty good team. He would make comments like, "Mom, I haven't even pedalled once this whole block....I think we are going so slow that I might not have to pedal at all this time." To which I was obliged to answer, "Oh yeah, if I pushed you over, would you have to pedal to get started up again????" I mean, I can only take so much abuse as I am huffing down the block. He'd chuckle away and forget his gripes, getting back into his monologue of things he has been waiting to tell me about. We go out for about 40 minutes and he is able to keep up both sides of the conversation, which is great, because I'm breathing so hard I can barely speak. It's a lovely time. Now he has a new bike with gears and I lose him on the uphills. Or, I guess, he loses me. But he always waits at the top.
So Easter afternoon we're out enjoying a lovely late afternoon bike/run. He is chatting away about this and that and then all of the sudden veers into a conversation about the easter bunny. "Mom, where did you get those star wars guys?"
"What guys?"
"The ones the Easter Bunny brought for me." (I know, star wars guys, not so easter-y)
"Well, I wouldn't know, would I? The Easter Bunny got them."
"Mom. Cut the crap. It's not like you are going to totally crush me if you come clean about this. I mean, I think I've got this figured out".......pedal pedal pedal....."But then again, I don't really want to insult him if he is real"....pedal pedal..."then he might not bring me anything."
"What if you just insulted her anyway because she's a she???"
The double take he did right there- the fear in his eyes thinking that maybe his chips had been cashed and the bunny was now pissed at him- that made me realize that he still does believe. Despite the old 'cut the crap'.

It's a bummer when....

As I was searching my one small box of 'memorabilia' in the basement (neither Jon nor I are keepers and we really only have one box each down there from yesteryear) for some old letters for Eli (new stamp collector) I found a book I had made as a child. It was titled "Bummers" and each page started with either "It's a bummer when..." or "Don't you hate it when..." It produced quite a few laughs. Eli's favorite was "Don't you hate it when your ice cream cone drops into the dog dish and your mom makes you eat it anyway". We started making up new bummers. My first and most important one is this: It's a bummer when you get out of the shower and you are all fresh and clean and you sit down to go to the bathroom, only to realize that SOMEONE has forgotten to raise the seat while he pees and there is urine all over the seat, only now it is on your fresh clean bottom!! Kind of long, I admit, but you have to agree that the degree of bummer-tude is high.
Then, this am, Theo woke up and came downstairs. Before he eats he can be a bit of a grump sometimes. This morning he was the last down and most of the waffles had been eaten, but I presented him with a plate piled 4 high. When he ran upstairs to use the bathroom (and undoubtedly pee on the seat) before eating, Jon snatched one. Theo returned, saw his diminished pile and got a little grouchy. I told him that there was one more in the waffle iron and he decided to wait for it and then dig into all 4 at once. He waited, and waited, while I got distracted cleaning up the kitchen. After much time I saw him waiting and went to check on the waffle. It was burnt to a crisp. Like a cracker. I took it out and made apologetic noises about the ringer not working so we were not alerted to it's completion. He scowled. Thought about a hissy fit and how much he might enjoy it. I saw it all cross his face. And then he says, "It's a bummer when the waffle dinger doesn't work and your fourth waffle burns to a crisp like a cracker." And he tucked into the other three with a smile.

Alarm clock

When I was a kid I had this little trick I used to get myself to wake up at the right time in the morning. I would pretend to unscrew a little piece of my head and pull out a slice of brain. Not kidding. Then I would unroll a piece of paper that happened to be rolled around this slice of brain, and I would write down the time that I wanted to wake up. Then I would roll the paper up and screw the brain piece back in. And I would wake up at that time (or thereabouts). I did this often. Anyway- Eli has always had his own internal alarm that unfailingly dings at 6:50. Sometimes 6:52 or 53. There are days that I would love for him to sleep a little later. So yesterday I unveiled my trick to him. He looked at me with bugged out eyes and cried out weakly for his dad when I proposed that we try this on him.... But in the end he let me do it. So we decided not to up the ante too much and just tried to push him back to 7:10. We went through the process and wrote 7:10 and got him all tucked in. Theo wondered what we were up to, so through quite a fit of giggling all around we showed him the trick. He wanted in and wanted me to write 7:50- which is about when he usually wakes up anyway. We did. Then, as I was snuggling him before he went to bed he started unscrewing his brain-piece-clock and wrote a new number. I asked him 'what'd you write?' His response? NOW!

The results: Theo was up often during the night. Shoot. Eli opened up his eyes as his clock struck 7:10. We were all amazed. Tonight I'm writing 8:00.