Long Day
It’s Wednesday. The first one since Asher’s preschool let out for the summer. Today I have babysitting starting at 2-something so that I can work this afternoon and hopefully meet my deadlines this week. The day is stretching out before us.
To be honest, we are having some ups and downs. Lucas is not around, so Asher’s attention is focused on needing my attention. And frankly, I’m out of practice. I am now trying to remember how to spend long summer days with a rambunctious 4-year-old.
The Ups
A forty-minute walk on the American River Bike Trail, under shady live oaks and with wildflowers along the trail, was a nice start to the day. Asher was less into it than I was, and kept wanting to talk about monsters and Batman villains. Before we went very far, he was ready to go home. I must remember to adjust my expectations. And walking with a 4-year-old is not exercise.
A shower with a spray bottle. Yep, a little cold water in a household spray bottle in the warm shower with a 4-year-old is a great time. He gets to spray me all he wants, and I still get to shower. If I squeal a bit about the cold water he’s spraying on my skin, his delight is magnified. Plus, there are slippery, wet kisses to steal, too.
Making popsicles with what’s on hand. Today we made orange juice, blueberry yogurt pops with mango chunks—using the blender, so there were shiny buttons to push. Asher carefully carried each popsicle mold to the freezer and wedged it between the wires of the top shelf to freeze. He’s excited about these. I find it fun to use the same popsicle molds that were my mother’s. We are missing only two bottoms and handles. I must keep an eye out for these at the thrift store.
Harvesting spent calendula flowers from the garden. Oh, Asher didn’t actually want to help with this, but he wandered around in the yard with me while I did it.
The Downs
I learned that I can’t playfully spray Asher with a gentle spray from the garden hose. He doesn’t want to get wet, and assumes that if he gets wet he’ll be ITCHY! Hysterics ensued and, despite my apologies, he said he hates me and thinks I’m the worst. He sneaked up on me to poke me with things. Oh, and he said he is going to break all of my things.
There were tricks played on me, too. “Mama, please come and wipe my bottom! Please. … Ha-ha! I didn’t even go poop! I tricked you!”
“Mama, I put the pillows away.” No, he did not put the pillows away.
“Mama, I’m gonna kiss you.” Then he licked my face. Later on, “Mama, I want to tell you a secret in your ear.” Then he licked my ear.
There are more, but I don’t have the energy to go into it. He is a rascal. Suffice it to say it’s time to rev up all those coping skills of mine. Nine and a half more weeks of summer vacation in which to focus on the ups and try not pay too much attention to the downs.
Hmmm … Look! The canas have arrived!
