Yesterday I got to spend the day with my darling daughter, Mo, and her sweet son, Tate. He is an adorable twenty months old. We met at a local park. Tate was in the gym, insisting on kicking balls.
He had his first soccer lesson in the morning. Mo said he wasn’t interested in following the lesson “rules,” he just wanted to kick, kick, kick.
He will have 12 more classes. He got a cute little blue soccer uniform. Even if he never learns anything he’ll look very soccer-ish while at class. Personally, I think trying to corral six 18 to 24-month-old toddlers would be a bit like trying to herd cats.
Eventually, Mo scooped him up; we strolled to their third-floor walk-up. Nana was about to expire after the second flight of stairs. And I wasn’t lugging a twenty-seven-pound toddler.
Mo fixed Tate a peanut butter and banana sandwich, along with a small pile of blackberries and raspberries, served on a clean pink frisbee. I was transfixed watching that dumpling gobble his food.
Then we went to his room where Mo put him in a sleep sack, read him a couple of books, sang “Twinkle Twinkle” and tucked him in for a three-hour nap.
While the kid slept Mo baked gluten free chocolate banana bread. Sinfully yummy.
We sat on the sofa and gabbed. It’s so good to spend time with my daughter. I’m interested in the way she thinks, the job she does, her political viewpoint. She maintains now that she has a baby the grandchild will eclipse her. She entertains me loads. She’s funny and smart. So is her husband. Tate will be all that times two! Possibly he will eclipse her. 🙂
Tate woke up refreshed and giggling. He listened to the Little Blue Truck book again, identifying all animals and making cow and horse sounds.
Then he tucked into his after nap snack of warm chocolate banana bread and blueberries.
When asked if he wants something he does not desire Tate responds, “no no.” If he does want it, he says, “yeah.”
“Do you want more berries?”
“Do you want more banana?”
Do you want to watch Soccer Rocker? “Yeah.”
After the snack and “Soccer Rocker“, Mo dressed him, and we were off to meet a friend for a playdate at the park we’d been to earlier. Tate wanted nothing to do with the other kid. He wanted nothing to do with the park. His goal was to escape the outdoor fenced area and find his way into the gym.
He turned wonderfully, rebelliously twenty months old and let us know in no uncertain terms he was NOT happy hanging around outside.
His “no no’s” got progressively louder and more definite. Accompanied by tears.
“Do you want to swing?”
“Do you want to slide?”
Jim was coming to pick me up. I asked, “Do you want to see Jim?”
Tate replied, “yeah” and headed to the gate next to the gym. Oops.
Tonight we get to babysit while Mo and Stephen go on a date. Yippee!