Saturday, August 18, 2012

Oh the whine!

And how I wish I could chase the whine with a bottle of wine.

Cavan at age three and four months is a pretty awesome kid.  He can ride a bike with no training wheels.  He can go across the monkey bars.  He can climb anything.  He knows to clean up his dirty laundry and do all the right buttons on the washing machine.  He can unload the cutlery from the dishwasher.  He knows the difference in the measuring spoons we use to make cookies.  He goes to bed like a dream right at 7:30pm each night.  He is finally sleeping until around 7am every morning.  He loves to read books and has so many of them memorized.  He can count.  He can sing his alphabet.  He knows all the different veggies we have planted in the garden.  He can tell most of the furs in my sewing room apart.  He is fearless in the pool.  He is awesome.

But this hunting season he has decided to be a royal pain the ass.

I have been looking forward to this weekend all month.  Matt's first weekend off in about three weeks and we were going to spend each day making day hunting trips on the quads.  We did it last year and he was perfect!  Heck, we even went back country camping on the quads with him for four days and he was easy. 

But Friday night was not pleasant.

He had napped.  He was well rested.  He was fed.  He was a miserable little turd.

For four hours and 50km he whined.  And whined.  And then whined some more.  His whine could be heard above the roar of my quad and the buzz of the bugs.

The only time he didn't whine was when we put the run on two bears with the quad.  And then he laughed and wanted to find more bears to chase.  That was about 10 minutes out of the 240 minutes that evening.

So today instead of a family day trip, Matt and Hunter headed out on the quad while Cavan and I hung around here.  And tomorrow will be the same.  I just cannot endure an entire day of him whining on the back of my quad. 

Instead I will try and put a positive spin on it: the boys are each getting quality time with a parent.

(But secretly I want to flick his ears just out of spite.)

Dear Cavan, 
I will give you this year to ruin hunting season for me.  But next year, you had better be on board with sitting on a quad all day exploring the back country.  If not, I will be selling you on Ebay.
Love your mama.

Hunter has hit the perfect hunting age!  He wants to spend every day out looking for moose and caribou.

This is where I want to be.  Not at home.

Oh little turd.  It is a good thing you are still so awesome.




3 comments:

Roberta said...

Terrible Two's...... lead up to HORRIBLE Three's. Good luck. This is his "test mom to the limits" run.

Tara said...

Kids are certainly an exercise in flexibility, aren't they? Earlier this summer I tried to take Aedan strawberry picking. I had dreams of him contentedly playing in the patch while I filled multiple containers with berries...instead he whined and cried and pulled at my hair until I had to give up. I feel your pain, Kara!

Trish said...

I think what's going to be awesome is that years from now they can read back on these posts, feel guilty and suck up. Or maybe save these until they are parents themselves and pick and choose some choice posts :-)