Getting Mail

I have been thinking about the daily antics of my little guy ever since I read one of my favorite blogs earlier this week. One of A's most impressive games of late is the comedy of errors which is our daily walk to the mail kiosk here at our apartment. Similar to our daily train building exercises, this has become a staple of apartment life for the Kastl family.

We depart on this journey, which is about 200 yards round trip with our trusty big wheel at a reasonable pace. A makes a good effort at pedaling, but always resorts to using his feet, Fred Flintstone-style after a few moments. He says "stop" and stops, then says "go" and continues. After a few more feet, he will turn and drive into the grass, saying "crash!" Moments later, he will return to the sidewalk, either on his own or lifted by mommy, depending on my patience level. This crash will happen over and over again, with minimal progress toward our goal, which is the mail kiosk. When the crash game ends, it does with A's abandonment of the big wheel, which at least has a handy handle for me to push like a stroller.

Abandonment means that exploration has begun. Exploration means running toward a)a tree b)the street or c)an unknown neighbor's door where, if I am not quick enough, he will knock and say "helloooo!" or, quite unlikely, d) the mail kiosk. I try to reign him in by saying "stop" (which he demonstrated his understanding of beautifully moments prior) but to no avail as I am completely ignored. At some point in this exercise I will become impatient with our progress and decide to chase down and pick up the little man and carry him for a moment, while still pushing his big wheel. Push toy in one hand, hold 30 pounds in the other, keep walking. At this point, if the sun is out, cue sweat beads on forehead.

When I put A down again, he will usually drive his big wheel a little more, and we eventually make it to the mail. Mail retrieval is quick, A plays in the rocks next to the trash bin, and I grab the mail.

Return trip is as follows: more of the same except less patience, more sweat, more of A running away, and less ability to juggle my sweet little 30 pounder because of the mail in hand. When we arrive back at our door, we park the big wheel and head inside. Exercised and thirsty kid in tow, we have successfully retrieved the mail, and I need a shower.

I don't have a picture of our mail adventures, but I do have one of A going green at the dinner table tonight with some hearty consumption of broccoli, or what we call at the Kastl house "TREES!" This is a big event because until recently his only green veggie consumption was edamame and peas.

ps. Why am I blogging on a Saturday night? A is asleep and the big A is on South Beach partying with the beautiful people in town for the Super Bowl. I've been getting updates, gossip girl style, from hubby as he has spotted Russel Simmons, E from Entourage, Chris Rock, some guy from Fox news, and a possible Taylor Lautner???

pps. I say we walk about 200 yards because the only way I can judge distance is to imagine pool lengths. Being a swimmer nerd and having spent way too much time during my younger years on IU's deck, it would probably be more appropriate to say 200 meters.