I was a very girly little girl. Shocked? I didn't think you would be. I played Barbie and babydolls well into my tweens, and adored My Little Ponies and Carebears too. I wore dresses, loathed jeans, and sported the side-pony on multiple occasions with neon colored scrunchies, no less. I also am the oldest of three girls, so there were lots of girl-oriented activities going on.
Thus, this World of the Little Boy is all brand new to me.
And I love it.
We're having construction done in our subdivision currently, and a huge John Deer was unloaded right in front of our house yesterday. Baby B stood and watched, mouth agape, carrying on a conversation with that tractor through our glass front door. And he all but melted my heart. I wanted to promise him a tractor when he turns sixteen and run outside to ask the truck driver if I could possibly swipe the keys for a joyride around our street. Anything to watch Baby B be that happy. Oh, he was just so precious. Is so precious.
Never, in my girly-girl world, would I have thought that oversized construction equipment would bring me such happiness. But, now that Baby B has showed interest in their grand presence, noisy engines, and their ability to dump gravel into a hole (I know, stop. the. world.), I'm am all about some bulldozers. We even walked down the road a bit to watch them in action, Baby B staring in awe, and me glad to experience his amazement firsthand.
Being a parent is so awesome.
And then, there are those sneakly little boy moments that I love and adore too. Take today, for instance, as I stood with my back to the pantry, fixing summer vegetables on the stove. Baby B played behind me, opening and shutting the pantry door and occassionally going inside. Eventually, he emerged with a loaf of bread, handed it to me, and then continued pantry shopping. (I have long-since adopted the philosophy whatever keeps Mr. Busybody occupied is fine in my book as long as it presents little to no risk - i.e. dragging the broom around the house, tasting a leaves, examining an ice cream scoop, etc.). His next item of purchase was an opened bag of peaches. I kid you not - I turned around, stirred the veggies, and by the time I checked on Baby B he was seated on the ugly linoleum, double-fisting peaches, with several hollowed bites taken out of each one. Stinker. With peach juice dribbling down his chin and elbows, I scooped that boy child up and plopped him on the front lawn to finish his sneaky little treat. At least it wasn't chocolate or something. But, eh, oh well if it had been.
So, that was my weekend. Construction equipment and a stickly little peach pulp face. I did quite a bit of kindergardening too. But the other stuff was far better.