This evening Wyatt strapped on his helmet and headed down the sidewalk to go to Ava's house. He must have said goodbye twenty times and pleaded with us to go inside. He estimated that he'd get to Ava's house in three months. That may have been true if he had remembered to wear shoes.
Wyatt started sleeping in a new bed this weekend and, knock on wood, it was not a big deal. In my mind, moving him from a crib to a "big boy bed" was going to be the death of sleeping until 7 and brought great risk of losing his 2-3 hour afternoon rest. So far, neither is the case. In fact, I had to wake him up at 7:30 this morning because a new sitter was there and I thought they'd need a proper introduction. I think it was good that it was a spur of the moment decision. Garett built the frame a few weekends ago but it wasn't until 6pm on Friday night that we all decided he'd spend his first night in his new bed. My parents were over and brilliantly suggested we take down the crib. That really sealed the deal and made us all commit. The only tricky thing was Wyatt getting out of bed and turning on the light. But we just turned off the light after he was asleep. I was convinced that Wyatt changing beds was really going to throw off his stellar sleeping habits and that both of us would be worse for the wear. I'm reminded of the wisdom of Jesus when I worry excessively. Do not worry about tomorrow. It sounds so easy but is increasingly difficult for me as a new parent. I have very little margin in my life (I mean, I have a pretty limited amount of energy so I try to be very intentional about how I exert it, as intentional as I can be with a two year old boy.) so I am fearful about making changes with Wyatt that will significantly impact my ability to be his mom. I clearly feel a little more in control than I really am...which leads me back to Jesus' wise words. As for the space below his bed, I'm picturing it as a cozy reading nook but it's far more likely that it will end up as a garbage truck storage area or a helicopter landing pad. What would we do without Garett and his amazing design/build abilities?
You know those friends who you simply enjoy being around? The ones who you may have barely spoken to for months but the friendship can easily pick up right where it left off. The ones who you look forward to coming to stay at your house. The ones who you can be yourself around and wind up feeling encouraged after spending time with. The ones who are easy to be parents with and around. Those friends. Yes, we are thankful for them. We spent last weekend in Portland for a wedding and got to spend three days and two nights with the Hsiehs. We hadn't seen them since last March when they were down here for Ben's Spring Break. Ian is now part an adorable part of the family. It was so nice to see Ava (3.5) and Wyatt (2) playing together. They like each other and seem to be a great distance apart in age. Wyatt learned a lot from spiritual and imaginative Ava (praying, fishing for magnets, and slaying dragons) and it was beautiful to see them enjoy each other the way they did. At the end of the weekend, it actually seemed like we had a longer trip than just three days. Hopefully that was not the case for our kind hosts. We relaxed on the porch swing solving the world's problems, ate the best ever mint chocolate chunk cookies, went to a dance party that reminded me of our post-Wheaton year of finding fun dance spots in Chicago, discovered a new type of horticulture called espalier, watched Thumbelina twice, chased Stormy the cat around the entire house, celebrated our consistently remarkable husbands and the fathers they have become and generally laughed a lot. We also got to go the gorgeous and meaningful wedding of our friend Suzy. I'm still in awe of her dress (and dying that I did not get a picture of it) and twelve part toast that was much shorter than it sounds. Wyatt only interrupted the toast once with a sweet, "Hi, Suzy." Getting to see Wheaton friends from years ago was also a treat. Rebekah's offer to have Wyatt and I stay another week was a sign that I wasn't the only one enjoying myself. If only I didn't have to rush back on Sunday night for a minor surgical procedure at Stanford on Monday. All went well and I'm home recovering with the help of narcotics and my parents who have Wyatt for the week.
We spent last week in San Francisco in a little garage apartment in the Cow Hollow neighborhood. We stumbled upon the place on vrbo and really lucked out on the location. We had access to the backyard with a sandbox, two basketball hoops and a kid pool. There was a park on the same block and we could walk down to the marina in just about 20 minutes. I could have stayed another couple of months but Garett had house projects on the brain and was ready to get home. He always gets creative when we're in a city and he's looking forward to bringing his sketches and ideas to life. Here's a rundown of the trip (According to a friend, it's a trip rather than a vacation when we bring Wyatt along.):
- Golden Gate Park(Koret Children's Quarter and California Academy of Sciences) and the Ferry Building twice (A Blue Bottle latte is the gold standard.) - Cable cars and the bus - Irish coffee at the Buena Vista Club - The zoo with my parents and brother - Finding miraculously amazing parking spots on the same block as our place every single day (I was reminded of living in Chicago and the thrill of backing into a coveted spot perfectly on the first try.) - Exceptional meals at Slanted Door, Burma Superstar, Pan E Vino, and La Boulange - Leisurely soaking up art at SFMOMA while Wyatt spent a day with his grandparents - Walking, walking, walking
Wyatt seemed to really like San Francisco. It might have had something to do with the number of garbage truck sightings or the fact that three different servers brought him free ice cream at the end of his meal. His flexibility still amazes me and I have a lot to learn from him in that way.
Last weekend Wyatt cracked his forehead on a sharp stone step and wound up with six stitches. It was far more traumatic for Garett and me. The only good thing was that we happened to be in Turlock and were joined by Garett's dad, my folks and my brother in the emergency room. Unfortunately this is a fuzzy shot but it captures Wyatt's sad face too well to not post. Our nightly regime included band-aid removal, hydrogen peroxide and polysporin application and putting on another band-aid. I'm not sure exactly what Wyatt detested about this process but he made his frustration quite evident. I love the big lower lip. All is well now and the stitches are removed. He may or may not even have a scar because the doctors said he hit it in a great spot that heals well. Good coordination of injury placement, Wyatt.