It’s finally time to blog!  We’ve missed our cyberspace friends.  I’m starting to sink back in to a favorite rhythm that returns to me each year.  Fall.  Yes, I know the summer lovers among me are holding on to these last hot days.  They’re clinging to the pool pass and wearing their whites before labor day hits and the dream ends!!  In contrast I’m waking up early and delighting in 50 degree mornings on my bike.  I’m monitoring the few leaves that have already started to turn.  IT’S FALL!!  (well almost anyway).  Our summer life has been both indulgent and chaotic.  I’m less than 2 weeks from my half Ironman competition in Stillwater MN.  If you live in MN I’d truly love to see you on Sunday September 9th at Square Lake.  I’m going to need all the support I can get to finish this big triathlon and check it off on my “I did it” list.  I’ve done two things this summer: train 2-5 hrs per day and be MOMMA.

“Momma” all day.  Ollie has reached the epic momma phase.  There is no break.  In the night he wakes up, sits up and says, “Momma?”  In the morning he comes to my side of  the bed pulls my pillow out from under me and commands, “all done nigh nigh Momma.”  From dawn until dusk I’m hunted relentlessly!  Of course there is something wonderful about being your toddler’s object of affection.  I am always desirable, beautiful and of course indispensable.  In a way we’ve become two peas in a pod spending our days together at the zoo, the park, the library, anywhere we like.  We share ice cream cones, make faces at each other, and play silly games when no one else is around.  Bird now wants to hang out on the couch and watch Dora in the late afternoon.  He crawls up onto the couch then slaps the cushion next to him as if to say, “come on sit down, it’s Dora time!”  Then taking a page from my book he says, “cozy?” which means go get the blanket lady.

The down side to all of this is that there is no replacement for Momma.  Although he loves his Daddy and loves his teachers at school if I’m around I must be part of the action.  Switching the laundry becomes a 45 min stop at Ollie’s playroom cafe for wooden sandwiches of cheese, fish and salami.  I must set the wooden toaster for him again and again while he eagerly awaits it’s “POP!”  If I want to cook for real I must accept the “help” which is really no help at all.  Any attempt to put him to bed or down for a nap results in an hour long battle which I consistently lose.  Tonight I succumbed to those sad brown eyes crying and begging for “rock” and “hold”!

Can you love your birds too much?  When the Momma season ends do you miss it?  Or do you just appreciate the ability to use the bathroom solo again?  Clearly I’m an amateur.