Old MacDonald Perpetually

When is the last time you heard the song "Old MacDonald Had a Farm?"

Oh, that's nice.

Did you know that Old MacDonald also had a zoo? And a circus? And an aquarium, a band, a jungle and a bird park?

Did you know that Old MacDonald can be spooky for Halloween and jingly for Christmas?

Sometimes Old MacDonald has carnivorous animals on his farm. Sometimes they are silly animals... or make-believe animals.

I would be willing bet that every single kid channel on YouTube has its own rendition of Old MacDonald. At least one. 

Some are slow and twangy. Some are rock and roll. And you better believe that there is everything in between!

Wait. How would I know this? Why would I care?

Maybe it's because Brady P is quite possibly Old MacDonald reincarnated. I don't know if that's true, but one thing that's certain is that my little boy is ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED  with Old MacDonald and his farm. Or zoo. Or jungle or whatever he has during what ever holiday at whatever tempo in whichever language.

This was Braeden's first song that he really liked to watch on the computer -- probably starting when he was two years old.

Now he is seven.

He has had other obsessions during these five years: Baby Shark, The Yummy Song, alphabet series, some pop songs for dancing and others. But Old MacDonald always comes back.

Always.

Do you know how many times I have heard that song? Sometimes the same version five times in a row? Sometimes it's just Old MacDonald for two hours straight!!!

I don't know if you can even fathom that, but it's true. Ask anyone in our family.

If someone ever figured out how many times we have heard that song in any version or language, I would hope they would never tell me. We are at least in the thousands, I swear.

This little boy loves Old MacDonald. 

Biggest fan ever.

I don't know how long this obsession will last, but I would imagine we have not heard all the renditions yet. Oh, no.

We will find more before our time here is done.

I wouldn't be surprised if Brady P writes his own version someday!

Here is one of his latest favorites... from 1946! He even acts it out on his trampoline. Enjoy!

Basketball Jones

Braeden learned something new at recess today.  I'll let him tell you about it.

Hi.  I'm Brady P.

I am really cool.  I went to school today with my friends.  It was fun.  Guess what I learned at recess. The basketball hoop!

Rocking the little hoop

It was really fun.  Mr. North watched me do it a bunch of times.  He made me feel really proud like I was good at it.  I am.

I don't make it through the hoop every time, but I still like to throw and throw and throw and throw.  Sometimes I get it through the backboard!  Sometimes I knock the hoop, so it falls down.  Mr. North helps me put it back up.  He is nice.

Then my mom came.  I took her hand and pulled her close to the hoop, so she could watch me throw.  I stood really close underneath, so I would hopefully make another hoop to show her.  It took a while, but I made one, and they both cheered!

Mommy asked if I was ready to go because we had to go to town, but I just wanted to keep throwing the ball at the hoop.  I made it three times in a row even!  My mommy cheered cuz she was really proud, and I was proud too. 

After a while, I got a little bit hot, so I threw three more times then put the ball bye-bye.  I remember where it is, so probably next time I go to school, I will throw some more.  My mom will be mad because she thinks I have to get to school on time every time, but if I see the ball, I am going to throw it.

I hope we go back there before school next week.  I'll have to practice saying the word "basketball," so Mommy knows what I'm saying, and she can take me there.  She isn't very good at making it through the hoop, but I like to watch her try too.

Okay, see ya!

Little Chucker

When deciding on Braeden's middle name, I first picked Charles.  That was my Grandpa Wilbur's middle name.  

The May before Braeden was born, I was in North Dakota, the state where Grandpa Wilbur lived and passed in 1986.  I didn't know him very well because I was so young, but he came to visit me that May of 2014 while I slept on my aunt and uncle's couch.

It was Grandpa's 100th birthday, and my mom and I went to visit his grave that day.  I felt a coolness behind me as I tried to sleep on my side with a little bun in my oven.  I knew instantly that it was him.

He told me I was having a boy.

I smiled.

So when Braeden was born, I had the inclination to brand his middle name after Grandpa Wilbur Charles.  However, my own father is still alive.  My wonderful Daddio Philip.  I figured he would be honored, too, so I switched it to Braeden Philip to carry on that legacy.  All from the convenience of my hospital bed.

Why am I telling you this?

Because "Chuck" lives on in Braeden.  He is a rock chucker to the max.  He chucks each rock enthusiastically and deliberately.  Like each one is his first and last.

Double-fisting before the double chucker

Luckily Bryce has a beach nearby where we can go, so Brady P. can satisfy his obsession... in April!  There is no place to sit on a rock beach near open water in the Harbor right now.  I have looked.

Thanks Bryce, for finding a beach, chucking with us and capturing the moments (all photos on this post courtesy of Bryce).

Watching Braeden do this is inspiring.  He is in his element, no doubt.  The moment he sits (or stands) on the beach, he  scoops up a rock and tosses is in.  Giddily.  Merrily. Seriously.  Like he means it.

It's so inspiring, that anyone around has to join in for a few.

B and me in rock-tossing bliss

Over and over and over and over again.  The other day we sat out for almost two hours, and he still disagreed when we said it was time to leave.

"Three more rocks, Braeden," is always my cue to inform him that we are about to leave.  Then we have to say good-bye to the rocks and lake, so he knows that we are really leaving.

He still disagrees.

And that is a nice way to say that sometimes he throws himself into the rocks and screams in protest.  Sometimes he comes reluctantly.  But he always disagrees.  At minimum.

I can't blame him.  Who wants to leave Lake Superior?  Who wants to leave the beach?  Who wants to stop doing their favorite thing in the world?

Certainly not Braeden.

He could sit there all day in mild to warm weather.  He doesn't even know he is hungry until we get inside.

I really wonder if he might be the first Major League baseball pitcher with Down syndrome.  Not that we watch sports, but he's got mad skills.

It is in him.  My little Chuck.