Heart Peelings

I recently had my first night in over 60 days without a little boy in my care. I was overdue for a break. I could feel it.

Now that it's spring break, he is with Grammy and Grammy, and I'm so grateful!

I mean, wow. I needed this!

Here is what I learned this time.

Usually, the first day or two after I'm at home with me, myself and I, I sit in the chair and cry for half a day.

Sounds dramatic, I know. It took me a few years to figure out what was going on.

At first, I was really annoyed by it because, when I do get a break, I have all these projects I want to do.

When that incredibly sweet little boy is here with me, I am always "on." Always in the mode for what is next and what he needs and so on.

That's parenting.

So when he is gone, my body says, "Ahhh. Please take a rest, Amanda. Sit right down. Just relax and let your thoughts settle. You have much within you that you have not been seeing in your whirlwind. Come. Settle down and reflect."

Yeah, and cry my eyes out. Or sometimes just stare blankly and let the visions come.

It really took years of getting stuck in my chair to figure out that that is what I was supposed to be doing. My body would not let me do a project because I finally had the time to look inward and clear my soul. Apparently that was more pressing.

That went on for quite some time, and I accepted it. I even got to the point where I expect that to happen.

So after this latest timespan without time to really settle, I expected it to happen again.

But it did not.

I have been able to move freely about the cabin and work on projects that excite me. It's amazing!!!

Do you know what this means? 

It means that I have scrubbed my soul so much that I am in a good place. I no longer put unrealistic expectations on myself. I am gentle on myself when I used to be hard. I say yes to the things I actually want to do and don't just commit out of guilt. I have curtailed relationships that exhausted me. I have also turned my relationship with my son into us as a magnificent duo instead of a ball and chain.

I also try to take the time, when he is with me, to meditate and assess where I'm at.

I suppose it's working.

The fact that I did not have to cease activity in order to figure out what parts of my life I was ignoring is pretty huge. I'm so grateful for that, and I wanted to share it with you!

I still have plenty to strive for, especially career-wise, but I feel like I'm taking steps in the right direction. 

Consciously clearing out things in my life that made me feel like a victim on any level was one of the best things I have done for myself lately.

I guess I wanted to tell you this, so you can see that any or all of the efforts you put in to peeling away at the happiness of your heart makes a difference.

The acknowledgement of our feelings and emotions is constant, but the energy it takes to reel us out can become less and less once we have a handle on how to deal with them in a positive way.

It's not easy -- especially at first. But, man, it's so worth it!

This is the gist of what my next book is about by the way... whenever I get the time to keep writing it! Wish me luck!

As Down Wind Dan would say,

"It's a great day for a day."

And So This Is Springtime

It's ironic that I had a few ideas ready for today, but they got trumped after we went and played in the snow this afternoon. (I suppose I should disclose the fact that often I sit here and look at a blank screen and try to think of what to write about. Therein lies the irony of today. I'll take it!)

Happy Spring, by the way.

Today was a snow day, and school was cancelled.

There's another... irony.

But maybe not for the Keweenaw.

It was a warm snow day, however. And when I shoveled my porch, I realized that we had gotten a 6-7 fresh inches of perfect packing snow.

"Braeds! We're going to build a snowman!" I announced after lunch.

"Okay, Mummy!"

We did a couple runs on the sled. Then I asked him where we should make our snowman. "In a secret spot or for everyone to see?"

"Everyone to see," he replied.

"How about on the roof?!?"

"Let's do it!"

So we climbed on the roof from the snowbank because they are the same height. Ha! I rolled the big boulders and got him packing snow around them to keep him busy. He also enjoyed throwing snowballs into the street.

We actually made two snowmen. And we decorated them with party gear. We were so proud!

Our selfie with our snow partiers

Then we played and played and played.

We sledded. We threw snowballs at each other (not in the face, though). Then I had the idea to strap on my Hok skis and glide around the yard. 

Oh man. It was so fun!

B got the idea to practice pretend calling for 9-1-1. (Remember when I had to teach him that after my concussion? He's getting it!)

"Mummy, you crash and die," he suggested. I know it sounds morbid, but we only call when someone is unresponsive.

So I crashed and laid there with my tongue hanging out while he called for the ambulance on his mitten phone. Then he made the siren sound and trudged his way over to me and assured me everything would be alright.

I thanked him for saving my life. We hugged.

"Okay, now I die!" he announced. And we switched roles.

Like I said, it's kind of a morbid game, but it's functional. And we were outside! We must have played for two hours in the wet snow. 

Finally after we were absolutely soaked, we went inside. I also found it ironic that it is now spring, but that was the most fun we had outside in the yard all... winter. I tried to wrap my brain around that fact, but I think it's because it was warm. 35 degrees is a balmy day. And the snow was so packy that we could build with it. Another plus.

Although we were wet, we were warm. And we had fun. And learned. And, hopefully made some people smile when they saw our snowmen partying on the roof.

Spit!!!

I kind of have a confession...

I guess it's pretty embarrassing to admit from a mom point of view.

Brady P is just learning how to spit.

Like, within the last week.

Spitting seems so normal, right? Can't we all just spit naturally?

I guess not.

He thinks spitting is cool, though. When I brush my teeth, he shouts, "Mummy! Spit!"

Because I can.

And he couldn't.

So, a week or so ago, I realized that I can't just have him swallow his toothpaste every time he brushes (not the fluoride kind until he learns how to spit consistently).

The boy needs to learn how to spit.

So we moved the toothbrushing routine to the bathroom, so he can stand on his stool by the sink, use the water, rinse with his cup and... SPIT!

He loves it! He really tries so hard. He practices several times each brushing.

I was one of those people who thought that people should just know how to spit, so I am having a rough time teaching him. However, phrases like, "Oh, don't swallow it" and "Just hold it in your mouth" seem to help.

But even more than the progress we are making, I love the way he looks at me when we brush together. The look on his face says, "That is my Mom and I love her and she is good at brushing her teeth and I want to do it just like her."

Spit!

I am seriously enamored with him all over again. We look at each other and brush gazily while we exchange glances in the mirror and giggle.

I watch him turn his toothbrush around when I do. I notice how he likes to rinse his brush after I do. I enjoy how he likes to mock my grotesque spitting sounds for effect.

That learning experience (for us both) has really made me realize how much children look up to, learn from and model adults. Even when we think they might not be watching, we are wrong. They are taking it alllll in.

And secretly, they love it. And truthfully, that's how they think things are supposed to be done.

I know because I used to be a kid!

For the last part of this confession, I will admit that I was hoping a man would teach him how to spit because it seems like a fun guy thing to do together -- with his dad or an uncle or a grampy or a friend -- anyone!

But nope.

I am with him the most, so it's me.

And I am enjoying every moment of our wet, splattery, giggly adventure.

I probably won't be able to capture the moment while we are brushing together, so here is a pic from the day he learned to snowboard a couple weeks ago!

My little shredder!

Keep calm, and remember to spit when appropriate!

This Smile

I need to show you this smile.

This infectious smile, that I am so fortunate to relish in a few dozen times each day.

What if you got to see this smile that often?

This fully-in-the-moment smile erupting from pure, unfiltered joy.

If you don't already get to see a smile like this thirty times a day, then let me advise that it changes you.

It shifts your priorities. It quells your fears. It forces you to be in the moment. It quickens gratitude. It makes you believe in the seemingly impossible. It strengthens your spirit. It softens your heart.

And, most of all, it makes you smile too.

If it doesn't make you smile, you just might have a few things to learn still. I understand. I used to be that way.

But now I am melted and strengthened at the same time by this smile.

Brady P is here to help change the world for the better.

He is already changing mine. My hope is that we can infiltrate yours just enough to make your smile contagious too.

Joy Nectar

One of the unique things about Brady P is that his magic absolutely MUST be shared with others.

He is a Joy Flower just dripping with sweet nectar for all the bees to thrive on. But, as the pandemic would have it, I was nearly the only bee allowed to buzz around for a while there.

One little bee cannot possibly collect and utilize all that sweet nectar and pollen. But the flower keeps producing its joy and wonder, hoping to share it with others.

And the bee feels a little worn out from trying to help that flower live up to its potential.

Before the pandemic officially started, I would take my little flower out for live music at the local establishment. He absolutely loved it!

He would dance until I could convince him it was time to go home for bed. He would meet all the musicians and learn their instruments. He would sample their foot pedals and push the switches on anything that flashed (if they let him).

He also melted the hearts of strangers. They would just give me the most wonderful compliments about him.

He thrived!

He got to shared his magic nectar!

The locals loved it and so did the visitors. It really meant a lot to me.

Then, like most wonderful and frivolous parts of life, it went away.

That was really hard for us. It may have been harder on me than him because I felt like I was wasting one of my most precious assets.

A couple Saturdays ago, one of our favorite local bands came to play. Brady P was so excited, that he talked about it each day until Saturday came.

It's been a couple years, and I wasn't quite sure how things would go, but he totally surprised me. 

He met all the band members, of course. He learned about their instruments. He even spent 40 minutes playing his toy watermelon ukulele on the stage while stomping on two different sets of foot pedals before they officially took the stage.

Uke in hand, getting the foot pedal briefing

And once they started playing, he danced the whole time. The whole entire time. I had to rush him drinks and snacks between every couple songs to keep his blood sugar at a functional level. 

I was so proud of him.

His joy nectar was spraying on everyone. The people who remembered his dancing cheered with nostalgia. The people who just met him made sure to tell him good-bye when we had to leave.

I was overjoyed. We were in our element! He was able to spread his love again, and we felt so at home.

Here is one of his dances from early in the night. The band is called The Chöppers, and they come highly recommended by our town and Brady P.

A special thanks to everyone who took (and continues to take) the time to listen to him, watch him, interact with him and help entertain his curiosity.

May the joy nectar you receive rub off onto others.

P.S. We got to watch Encanto. Soooo good! I cried and sang the songs. B bounced through each song. He held me when I cried. So wonderful!

P.P.S. We made it through the latest storm! It blew so much that I can't tell you how much snow we got, but it was feet. And my snowblower is an absolute champion!!!

We Found Bruno

Hi!

Have you seen the latest Disney movie Encanto? I have not, but apparently Braeden did, and he is obsessed!

Not so much with the entire movie, but with the songs. After he watched it, he kept asking me for "Mirabel" songs. Once I figured out she was from that movie, things got rolling.

We listen to several of the songs and several versions of them every single day.

Eat your heart out, Old MacDonald. Mirabel and Bruno are moving in!

But we don't talk about Bruno.

We sing about him.

Sometimes in 40 different languages!

That's right. The song called We Don't Talk about Bruno is so popular around the world that it got translated to probably hundreds of versions. Many Youtube groups have covered it as well.

So, yeah, we get to watch all those too.

And we get to hear it remixed to a dance beat and so on. It is really a thing!

If you are curious, here are a few Bruno videos to check out.

The original clip

In 21 languages

His favorite family cover

Do you see what I'm saying? The possibilities and varieties are seemingly endless.

And that's only one of the songs!

You can look up the rest on your own, if you want. I'm not here to promote any movie or YouTube channel. I just wanted to tell you how deeply it has impacted our life.

I even love some of these songs! One of them makes me cry every single time. And I haven't even seen the movie!!!

I probably should though. But then I'll cry even more, I bet.

Be careful if you do listen to these songs, though. It's quite difficult to get them out of your head. But if you do find yourself singing them during your daily life, belt it loud and proud. It sure feels good!

Just so Cool

Hi!

I hope you're doing well.

I want to give a shout out to Mary Wais (my mom), who came to Copper Harbor for a week and took care of Braeds and me while I healed up from my concussion.

It's quite difficult to take care of another (quite needy) person when you just need to, and only want to, sleep, so she came to the rescue.

Thanks, Mom. We made it through.

Gramma Mary pulling little man home from school

And we are doing well!

This little boy is so cool. 

He walks down the street and waves to everyone's car and all the snowmobilers. We both love it when they wave back.

He holds my head and gives me the sweetest kisses on both my cheeks. Sometimes even an Eskimo kiss. And says, "I love you, Mummy."

He comes up with crazy dance moves, fabulous twirls and impressive inverts.

He is polite and friendly. He truly cares about people's feelings because, well, he can feel them! And he wants everyone to know they are included.

He gives hugs to our friends and passersby as we walk down the road or enter a building. I don't think he can not gives hugs. And I would never take that out of him.

He has taught me to value what is truly important in life, and I am forever grateful.

I know I've said a lot of this before, but, man, he is just so cool. I'm so proud every time I get to share him with others.

Thanks for coming back here. I hope to have more to share next time!

Pile of Kisses

I got my first concussion Tuesday night.

Not even a cool story. I wasn't drinking tequila. I wasn't break dancing. I wasn't snowboarding.

Nothing cool.

I was momming.

In the bathroom.

Yeah. So, after rinsing out a little boy's poop potty in the bathtub, I reached over to set it back in its Paw Patrol holder. I must have taken a step forward to do so because, on my spring back to change the faucet to shower mode, I CRACKED my forehead on the wall that divides the tub and toilet.

I saw a bright flash of light, heard my teeth gnash and bounced backwards.

Well, that was a shocker!

I grabbed my head and wailed a bit as I hung over the side of the bathtub. Brady P looked at me timidly. I don't think he saw exactly what happened as he was preoccupied with his animals (go figure).

I opened my eyes, and... and... I opened my eyes! I was conscious! Oh, happy day! My daylights were still burning!

I was immediately filled with gratitude. As I heard (and felt) my head smack a fortified tile wall, I thought for sure I should be a heap on the bathroom floor, leaving Brady P to wonder why he couldn't wake Mama up by shouting "Boo!"

He would have been on his own. And nobody would have known. (Side note: I am now prompted to teach him how and when to call 911 once I can do something productive again.)

I was quite euphoric about the fact that I was conscious. I rejoiced while I iced the lump on my head. I rejoiced while I rubbed Frankincense oil into my inflaming flesh. I rejoiced!

Then my mom called. 

I told her what happened. She is a nurse, and she is keen to these things, so she said, "Amanda, you might have a concussion."

I thought about that for a moment. I just re-certified my First Aid/CPR training, and I had the signs and symptoms for a concussion mostly memorized. But now I was embodying them.

"I guess that's why people don't diagnose their own concussion," I joked. "Yeah, coach. I'm fine! Put me back out there! Haha!"

But Mama Wais wasn't really laughing. She was becoming a bit concerned. We decided it was pretty mild, so she gave me a list of things to do and don't and wanted me to check back with her later.

Brady P kissed my bump as gently as he could. 

We made it though the night, and I managed to get him up and ready for school on time the next day.

The day was really rough. I felt like I got shot with a tranquilizer dart. I moved like a sloth. I talked in slow motion.

But I was alive!

Miss Liz dropped B off after school (That angel woman. I was not driving anywhere!).

After she left, I went over to snuggle by him on his little trampoline. He looked flattered.

"Mummy, let's take a rest together," he said, holding my neck.

In a moment, he got up. I stayed resting because that is what I did best that day.

"Here, Mummy! Here!" he was prodding.

I looked up, and he handed me my water glass. "Have a drink!" I was so flattered that I drank it all. "Oh! Good job!"

He took my cup away and brought my tea. "And here is your coffee," he said.

"Thank you, Brady!" I said. I took a little sip and set the cup down.

He was off to the next thing... and then back with his Guess Who card people.

I half-watched him as he took off the clip. I was still horizontal on the trampoline.

Then I felt a little card on my cheek. 

"This is Eric," he said.

"Did Eric just give me a kiss on my cheek?" I asked. 

"Mmm-hmm!" he confirmed.

"Thanks, Eric." I said, closing my eyes again.

Then I felt another card on my cheek. He told me who it was, and I thanked them for the kiss.

Well, that little boy when through the whole deck and had each one of our card friends kiss me on the cheek. Then he did the same thing with his own sweet little lips.

"I love you, Mummy."

My smooch pile

Seriously. What a little lover. This boy has so much love to share. I am extremely blessed to be a daily recipient of it. It will definitely help my head heal.

One day at a time. I am still alive... and loved.

Mama the Mule

We've had some blizzards and such lately. High winds too. Even single digit temps.

I'm not complaining, just stating the past weather report in case you were curious. Besides, it's winter, so if we didn't have those things, it would mean the world is coming to an end.

Or something...

But I've been feeling super awesome lately, and I want to make sure B and I get out for some fresh air without getting frost bite.

Saturday was the day.

The sun was even shining!

I somehow convinced him that we were going for a ski. I would wear my cross country skis, harness up and pull him in his Thule Chariot on skis -- one of my saving graces of motherhood.

I bundled him up with blankets and set one of those hot water bottles in his lap. He must love to watch me ski because he is quiet back there now.

When he was younger, he would cry shortly after we got out, and our trip would always be cut short.

The two times we got out so far this year have been miraculous in that department.

But back to Saturday.

Yes, the sun was shining, and he commented on that several times. We hitched up, and I took him on the Fort Wilkins trail starting by Our Lady of the Pines church. 

The wind was from the south, so it blew over the East Vein ridge and across Lake Fanny Hooe.

But the sun was shining!

I pulled him to the Fanny Hooe Creek and promised he could get out because he was getting antsy. The trail then takes a curve and parallels Hwy. 41 on the way back to town.

You know the one.

He got out and pushed the Chariot while I skied. Before we started this leg, I asked, "Should we go see the lake? We are right by the lighthouse overlook."

"No, thank you, Mummy. Let's go."

A bit disheartened, I forged back home. He was good at pushing from the back. What a great break for me!

But not more than 30 yards along, he yelled, "Stop!"

"What's up, Dove?"

"Let's go to the lakeshore."

Now when I am all hitched up, my total length from the tip of my skis to the back of the Chariot has to be about 10 feet. Not an easy turnaround stunt on a ski trail.

But the lake was worth it, so I maneuvered us 180 degrees to go see Her Majesty. It's been so windy and cold, that B hasn't been there for quite a while.

So to the lake we went.

The shore is different in the winter time, of course. Thick layers of ice create a false shore and extend out above the lake itself.

We crawled down a bit over some frozen wave formations.

And we sat.

"Let's sit together," he said.

He sat on my legs, and I wrapped my arms around him.  What a sweet moment in life.

But then he did was I always do.

He got up and kept going... toward the water.

"Mummy, let's go!" he charged.

Oh my goodness. He is me. 

He crawled over those frozen humps on a mission.  On all fours, if he had to.

Suddenly I was all the people who I nearly give a heart attack to when I bolt to the shore over unknown conditions to the very edge.

But I had to let him go.

I don't let anyone stop me, and I'm not going to stop him.

We went together, of course. I love it too. I just finally felt it from a more cautious person's point of view.

So there we sat on the edge of the thick ice -- maybe two to three feet from the water. The depth below was probably to my knee or thigh, so, on the off chance we went in, we wouldn't die.

At least not from drowning.

There we sat and watched the low waves roll in and splash the ice in front of us. It was a dream come true.

There I was, doing something adventurous (and a little precarious) with my offspring. On the shore of Lake Superior in the sunshine. In the winter. In Copper Harbor.

We both loved it.

My heart swelled so big.

It made all the hard times worth it. I felt victorious. 

So we sat watching the undulations creep toward us.

"Oh! Here comes a big one!"  he would shout. Or I would.

Then we would mimic the sound it made.

"Do you feel safe?" I asked him.

"Yes, I feel safe," he said.

I explained to him why it was safe for us to be there at that moment. But even so, we had to pay attention to our surroundings.

He agreed to pay attention.

And he really did. He listened to the sounds. He watched each wave roll in. He felt the ledge beneath us.

He did great.

He is getting it, and I am so proud.

But I was also getting cold.

Pulling a 70 pound sleigh makes you sweat. Well, at least it makes me sweat!

So I was getting chilly sitting on a shore made of ice.

"Okay, Braeds. I'm getting too cold. We have to go now."

Mind you, I also gave him plenty of warning that this moment was coming.

"No, Mummy. I can't."

Ugh.

I could tell that it was going to be a real challenge to convince him that we had to go back. I get it. I didn't really want to go either, but I was only going to get colder until I could be a mule again.

I did my pretend walk away in hopes he would follow, but he didn't even care. I went back to sit beside him for a "couple more" waves. 

Finally, he agreed to walk back with me, so I didn't freeze. It didn't take long before I heated up. Even just walking helped.

We crossed the highway and waved to some friends driving by. I bundled him up and harnessed myself up.

Down the trail we slid. The trail was not tracked, but it was quiet and peaceful. I was in heaven. That whole ordeal meant so much to me!

Boy, this post is getting really long, but those are most of the good parts, so I'll leave it that for today. Just know that we made it back with only a couple tribulations. Ha!

We are tough.

Oh, and a picture of Her Majesty from a different sunny day... when I had my camera.

Other People in the House

I know I've said this before, but this time of year, it's me and Braeden at home. 

Braeden and me.

He hears my voice laughing, singing ("No, Mummy. No singing!"), adoring him and, you know, telling him what to do.

He hears my voice a lot.

My voice.

Over and over.

Luckily, I've been doing impressions of other people and creating new voices from my own since I was a child. You can ask my family... they were not always entertained, though.

Have you ever noticed that you can ask someone to do something a dozen times, and they refuse, but if somebody else asks, the person just does it?

This has been our struggle.

Until I bring in "other people."

First I created "The Officer." 

I realized that Brady would often answer more to men, so I had to figure out how to be more, um, manly. And authoritative.

One pair of mirrored aviators on my face makes him look at his reflection and covers my eyes. A masculine tone mixed with a slight southern accent demands compliance.

The officer appears when Mom can no longer get a positive reaction out of a small boy.

"Excuse me, Sir?" the officer will say as he saunters toward Brady P. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Yes, Officer, it's bed time," he'll reply coyly.

"That's right, Sir. Bed time. What do you do first to get ready for bed?"

"Pee on the potty."

"That's correct. Do you need me to carry you in there, or can you walk by yourself?"

"I walk by myself," the little boy says and slides off his comfy chair to walk into the bathroom.

The officer doesn't have to come out for long. Once Brady P gets a move on, things go smoothly.

But that's been going on for almost a year now, and the officer doesn't always work. Especially in the morning.

Luckily, I got little man the Guess Who? game for Christmas last year. You know, the one with all the people's faces and names, and you have to guess who the other player has by asking yes or no questions and elimination options with each turn? It's pretty fun.

He wasn't so good at it right away, but we have come to really enjoy playing it when the power goes out. We shine our flashlights on the people, so we can truly see if they have a mustache or earrings.

Sometimes we have a successful round, but sometimes not. It's all okay. Just a learning process.

I noticed that he would keep the cards out after each game. The cards have each person's portrait and name. He read them with me relentlessly until he learned all 24 of them.

Not long after, he would keep a few of them out in pairs. Mike and Mia. Al and Joe.

Sorting his "friends"

Okay...

I was a bit confused as to why he picked those particular people, but then I realized that those are characters' names from some of his favorite videos. Although the faces do not resemble the characters, he pairs up the names and personifies them.

This kid.

So I have used this to my advantage. I can now bring out those pairs of people and have them talk to each other and him in order to get him to get ready for school in the morning if we hit a snafu.

Suddenly, he is part of a conversation with two other people, and I am not involved directly.

***Kapeeeeeewwwww!!!***

That is my mind blowing up.

So when times get hard, it is no longer just him and me. Me and him. We have other friends to help move things along and impart different perspectives.

What a relief!

Too bad they can't babysit...

New Animal Names

Hey there!

I would wish you happy holidays and all that, but I am not a fan of Christmas. If you can't tell, I'm done pretending in life, so I prefer not to say things to people if I don't really mean them.

It's a process, but we've got to start somewhere!

I do like New Year's Eve, though. I'm rooting for 2022 to give us a bit more liberation. We'll see, I guess!

Completely switching gears, let me tell you about something that amazed me yesterday.

Brady P is a tiny bit obsessed with animals. 

Remember how I told you about Old MacDonald perpetually? Well, I forgot to tell you that it's played at the same volume you'd hear in a crowded bar, and accompanied by "crazy" disco lights. My neighbors can attest.

Our ceiling...

What have I created???

And neither one of those are my decision on a daily basis. HA!

Back to the amazing story.

Brady P found a bag of animal figurines that I got for him for Christmas. Yeah, I know... Christmas is over, but I was hoping to use those as bribery one at a time for prizes for listening to me when it's really important.

We didn't get that far.

He found them, and he squealed! "Mummy!!! New animals!!! Let's open it!"

"Actually, Braeds, those are for prizes when you do something -"

"Ohhh! No way! Let's open them now!!!"

Oh, man. He was so excited that I acquiesced.

He already has a whole basket of animal figurines: birds, mammals and insects from the savanna, jungle, farm and forest. 

Cool. 

He knows all about them, so they have become a bit mundane. He categorizes them and puts them back in the same order.

Every time.

60 animals going back into the basket in a categorical, yet logical  (or OCD) order. Yeah, I can safely say obsessed.

So these new animals had to be different, and I was happy to find some more exotic ones. Some of them were so exotic that I had to take a screenshot of the listing of animals with their names, so I could make sure I matched them correctly for Brady P. 

Cuz he would know.

He even knew some of the ones I had to check the names for.

When he pulled out this animal with stripes on it's butt and back, he said, "Okapi!"

And I checked the list and said, "Umm, wow, yeah! That's the okapi!"

Then he pulled out this short black and white one with a long nose and said,"a tapir!"

"Woah, yeah! That's the tapir. You are right!"

He also surprised me by correctly naming the meerkat, platypus, wildebeest and boar. But those first two... holy heavens in a flower pot. The kid is a genius.

He played with his 25 new animals with an excitement as if he had electricity running through his body. I've never seen somebody so absorbed in figurines. Like they are his friends and they're alive.

But good for him!

After he pulled them all out and read their names on my cheat sheet, we had to look a couple of them up because, well, they were not correct.

We gave them the correct names.

Trust me... we would know.

The pile of new animals surrounding the drain after their inaugural tubby

Reflecting

I apologize, but I am a bit too reflective to put something out today.

I hope all is well with you.

Take care.

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!