big boy limbo

I don't think I'm totally used to the amount of alone time I have with Logan.  I mean that in the nicest possible way.  Don't think less of me as a mother.  But since Dylan started first grade in fall, I've been adjusting to doing things with Logan alone.  I think I feel a little guilty sometimes when we're off having adventures while Dylan is sitting in class.  It had Dylan alone for 3 1/4 years before Logan arrived.   And then we had two years to spend our days together, the three of us.  This school year, I've gotten to spend 6 hours a day, 5 days a week, with Logan (minus his 6 hours of preschool a week -AKA- my sanity saver!) . This is our alone time together. And he's a big boy now, my little buddy. My little helper.  He helps me with cleaning toilets and putting laundry in the dryer.  I'm trying to teach him how to pay bills, he's pretty good at the computer.  Naps are long since over, and we can enjoy the day embarking on whatever inspires us.
Its interesting how different my time is with Logan during the day before Dylan gets home. When Dylan gets off the bus, I suddenly fade into the background. Dylan takes center stage in Logan's world and the two of them are off, sometimes laughing, sometimes fighting, but always engaged with each other.  Logan will watch Dylan do his homework, completely intrigued.  He'll follow Dylan to the bathroom to tell him about what happened on Curious George today.

Logan loves that he's a big boy now, totally capable of climbing all the structures and mastering the big boy swing.  He and I had a conversation at the park today about the solar system, and he reminded me that Neptune is one of the planets.  I didn't even know he knew about Neptune.  He's growing up so fast, and can spot any number from a mile away, with the number 100 being of particular interest for some reason.  He'll get mad and retort "Never, EVER, in all my LIFE, mom!".  I have my mean face on, but inside I'm laughing.  His whole three years, how dare I!  He'll put his hands of his hips, put on his sassy pants and declare "It's not MY fault!".  He is 3 going on the terrible tweens.  He's yelling at me one minute and wants to sit in my lap the next.  He's in a state of Big Boy Limbo.

It takes a lot of ingredients to get through a day with him:  kisses for hurt knees, cheese sandwiches and chocolate milk, bandaids, deep breaths, giant hugs, flexibility, a solid sense of humor, and the ability to answer 'why' questions at the speed of sound.  

Mostly though, it just takes a whole, whole lot of patience.