Dear Caleb (A Letter From Your Cat)

Dear Caleb,

I must share a few things that make me view you as the most peculiar little boy. First off--I don't understand why you still call me "cat"--even though you know so many words and names--and every adult refers to me as "Summit". I know "cat" was your first word...but really, if you're going to keep saying,

"Hi, Cat!",

I might just start spending more and more time upstairs on the office chair. I mean really--if you can shout the 4-syllable "helicopter," then surely you can say, "Summit."

I also wonder if you've noticed that I do NOT have hands...and therefore I don't need to wash them after going to the bathroom. The other day, you yelled,

"Cat wash hands; poop!"

upon my bolting out of the litter box. You're so silly.

Now on to other annoying sayings and noises. Yes, the room where I eat and take care of my business (I call it my room) is also where you people wash your clothes in those huge machines. Whenever the dryer buzzer goes off, my ears ring...and now you have to repeat over and over,

"Nnnnnzzzz; laundry's done!"

and laugh and laugh. I've even heard you say this hours after completing the chore...while you're trying to fall asleep in your bedroom...

And then there's your fascination with offering your milk's sippy cup straw to every stuffed animal, every toy, and even me. Your blue blow up Rody horse even has a dry milk moustache on it--and I probably do, too.

"Cat drink milk, sllllpppppp,"

is not my favorite thing to hear.

When your mom says it's clean-up time, your solution to picking up is putting things away on your bed (or in other strange places) saying they're going to sleep...

"Book, night-night! Hammer, night-night!"

A pretty good trick on your mom, though, I agree with your approach...nice thinking!

One thing I appreciate about you is that you are the only person who helps me enjoy my feline cuisine. While everyone else refers to my meals as "cat food," you always say,

"Cat's crackers."

I only wish the Friskies bag would have those more dignified words written across the top...

Fondly,

Your Feline Buddy Summit

Not Summit's Stage (but the Jaguar's)

Woodland Park Zoo, Seattle

Caleb's 21st Birthday (21 months on May 16th)

My mom said I visited the same zoo around the same age. How fun!

A Hard Day's Work

In North Carolina, toddlers are hard at work. Inside, outside. Morning, afternoon, night. Pajamas, clothes. Barefoot, shoes.

First up: Get out of bed and start the chores. (By the way, the $2 garage sale vacuum has been a hit...) This boy is always working on something...and he can multi-task, as you can see. Talking, sweeping--gotta get the floors clean and calls made before you get the trash ready to take out to the curb.

It's Monday morning, after all.

Next task: electronics. Get the un-attached computer keyboard plugged into the "e" for "energy" (or just a letter in the name Caleb, the working boy).

(He figured this one out all by himself...)

Oh, and that "toy" vacuum is missing its plug. So, why not attach Mama's phone charger to the empty hole? Vroom, vroom!

After that: Get dressed, and head outside before the day gets too hot. Water the back deck's plants: herbs, strawberries, tomatoes, lettuce.

Back inside....it's getting muggy out there! Take it easy and watch Dada mow the lawn...it's gonna be the boy's task someday. (Are we needing to get a "toy" mower in the near future?

The

working

boy

LOVES

to watch

things that

make noise.

LAST....it's been a tiring day that has brought on much hunger. Gotta get outside to pick strawberries at the local farm...and enjoy every last juicy bite!

"Gatz" = Vac

I finally had to relocate the vacuum cleaner to an undisclosed (to my 20-month old) location: behind the guest bedroom's closed door. For about a week, every morning, Caleb had woken up and begun his trek down the hallway to the kitchen for his first sip of milk from the fridge...only to stop at the coat closet and grab my hand, point, and repeatedly say, "Gatz, gatz!" I then proceeded to open the door for him to view the Hoover Turbo Power 7300. That simple action only gave Caleb a one or two day fix: then, he wanted more. "Pull the vacuum cleaner out of the closet and let me look at it in the hallway all day long!" his pleas said (in much fewer vocabulary words, however). Later on in the week: uncoil the cord each morning. By day 5 or 6, it actually was vacuuming day, so Caleb's joy was filled to the brim with my plug-in, turn-on, and push-push of his favorite household machine.

Day 1, week 2: "More, more! Plug in, turn on!" the cleaning obsessed boy seemingly said. I tried to explain to him that I refused to vacuum the carpet every day...the floors probably could use it, but I couldn't use the "task" hanging over my head. So--solution? Plans for the next day's nap time relocation....as described in the first line...

Day 2, week 2: "Gatz, gatz!" Hallway closed door opened to......emptiness! I had wondered what Caleb's first reaction would be. Would he keep saying his beloved word "Vac"...would he cry and throw a fit....would he drag my hand to "look" for the Hoover friend? Of course the toddler had a solution: Popper Substitution.

Last month, I found a used popper toy (one similar to my childhood toy) at Once Upon a Child for $3.50. Best investment EVER (and much cheaper than the adult version that used to live in our hallway closet). Can we say obsession? Caleb's favorite toy by far. Could it be the vacuum cleaner resemblance? Who knows that goes through these little people's minds. As of now, the empty closet has a new resident, and the noisy plastic toy has a new resting spot. Plus, in Caleb's mind, the carpet in and in front of the closet is so clean...it gets vacuumed numerous times daily, sometimes minutely.

I wonder how long this "fix" will last....how long can I keep Caleb out of the guest bedroom, and when will he want his bigger friend back? This weekend, I did take the original carpet sweeper out (while Caleb was in another room) and wheeled it to the family room...just in time for Mr. Clean to watch me plug it in and turn it on. Such a happy boy....highlight of his day? I returned it to the guest bedroom after Caleb went to the deck to play....and no notice was made about its disappearance.

Today: back to popping. Love that Gatz!

Changes in Weather?

I wonder if weather and seasons affect everyone's outlook and mood like they do mine. After surviving the very hot and humid summer in the South, I've very much welcomed the fall's recent below 70 highs (except for not today---80) and the evenings' 60s temps. Our first few months of North Carolina-living pretty much suffocated me every time I stepped out the door or just looked outside and thought of the beautiful, dry Colorado summer I was missing. The thousands of fire ants and other lawn creatures prevented me from letting Caleb crawl around the yard, a seemingly assured summer activity, and this trapped me even more. Did the 10, 11, 12 month-year-old feel as home-attached as I did? Probably didn't even know what he was missing.

Autumn is my favorite season. I was probably born to love it--my hair even resembles a deciduous leaf in the middle of losing its chlorophyll. Besides the colors (which I've been told explode here in North Carolina--I'm still waiting for this amazing show--this leaf picture was captured in our beloved Summit County, CO), the cooling air with that crisp-to-the-nose-and-skin feel, the promise of coziness brought by fleece jackets, and all the traditional smells and tastes fill my being during this time of year.

I think I posted earlier this year during spring's beginning...sharing how much I love that season's promise of growth. The promise of fall lies in change--(and NO, I am not responding to the current political slogans and all!)--that life and such will continue to cycle in the rhythm of centuries past and to come.

This summer, I felt like one of those huge green leaves stuck on a tall backyard tree--now, I want to be freed to actually enjoy something or someone (or maybe find some beauty) in this ugg place that I cannot yet call home. If Caleb could talk (and think in similes and metaphors), he probably would say he's felt like a freely flowing leaf his whole life (I might have a hippie child after all--then add the tie-dye, Smartwools, and eating mulch...)

New "colors" have already appeared inside the Hobart household. So far, Fall, 2009, has changed our crawler into an almost 14-month-old walker. It has changed a two-toothed mouth into a 7-almost-8 pearly cutter mouth. It has changed the whiny table communicator into a sometimes "more" and "all done" signer. It has begun to change (slowly, but surely!) the non cow milk drinker into an at-least-10-ounces-a-day sipper (hopefully to turn into a gulper soon). It has also brought the first toddler thrown-up meal (at least oatmeal looks like throw-up to begin with...), the first major toddler diaper rash, and the first bit finger (the mom's finger---bit intentionally by the teether who didn't want his nails cut). Summit the Cat would also like to add that fall has changed a hitting infant into a somewhat aware toddler who's trying to learn "gentle" (often petting his own head instead, after hearing the verbal reminder).

I have big expectations for the next few months...beyond the weather.

Time with Family in 2009

FAMILY PHOTOS:

THE 1st GRANDSON
By the time Caleb turns 11 months on Thursday (July 16), he will have met almost all of his closest relatives: 4 grandparents, 1 great-grandparent, 3 uncles, 1 great-uncle, 3 great-aunts, 5 first cousins (once removed), and 1 second cousin.

I think he has me beat...I never even met a great-grandparent, and I have only one aunt! Yet first cousins once removed....that's another story (my mother alone has had over 25 first cousins!!)

California (May, 2009): Hobarts/Gundersens--Everyone flew

to CA (except for the Gundersens, who drove up from the LA area) to surprise Caleb's Great-Grandpa Gundersen (Oldefar in Norwegian) for his 80th birthday. Keith was sentimental during the trip since it was the first time ever that the Hobart/Gundersen clan had all been together. I think I was sentimental knowing that

Caleb was meeting his oldest immediate family member--what a privilege it will be to say he spent time with his great-grandpa.

Maryland (June, 2009): Hitzemans/Scheichs--My mom, Aunt Janet (the "only one

aunt" I mentioned earlier!), Caleb, and I flew to Baltimore for a few days to visit my only girl cousin, Michelle, and her 12-month old. Connor (Caleb's only second cousin) is Caleb's youngest relative (though Connor is a month and a half older than Caleb). I was sentimental on this trip thinking that the age difference between my cousin and I is about the same as it is between our sons.

Bald Head Island, NC (July, 2009): McCoys--My parents and David and Beth flew to North Carolina, and we all drove to the Bald Head Island Ferry on 4th of July for a week. We spent a week on an island that only allows golf carts--and Caleb experienced his first Atlantic Ocean dip (and view of a real alligator). The sentimentality hit me after everyone left--and I sat with the reality that our new home is too many miles away from our families and friends.

People say we'll fall in love with North Carolina, and Keith even thinks I'll soon become a Tar Heel state resident and take off my CO license plate, but lots will have to change in order for my state/region affections to be shifted. I doubt Caleb will ever see one of these signs in Rocky Mountain country--but he'd surely be able to see family and friends who dearly love him. The Hobarts miss you, everyone!!

Destination Finally Reached

Goodbye Little Rock, Arkansas...

...Hello Sanford, North Carolina!!

The first move I can remember was the one just before kindergarten, when the Army moved us from Aurora, CO, to Ft. Knox, KY. Even though it was my third move as a child, memory strangely develops with age. Why is it that we have not been gifted with infant and early childhood memory? So interesting. I can’t recall the actual driving, but mental pictures of arriving at our rental home that Dad had picked out weeks prior stand out. The tall white pillars in the front, the large lawn surrounding the house, the long driveway approaching the garage, the dense forest in the back—first impressions last longer when memories associate with them.

Even stranger is knowing Caleb won’t remember either of the moves he’s encountered in his first nine months of life. Yet I will have more than first house impressions to define this Arkansas-North Carolina move: Summit and Caleb seemingly bonding throughout the packing and moving process, Keith living in Nashville during the last month of our Little Rock apartment life (and driving the 26-foot yellow diesel Penske truck from Tennessee to Arkansas, then back through the Volunteer state and on to North Carolina—all in 3 days), my mom's trooping with us on our crazy journey (and babysitting Caleb on our night in Nashville so Keith and I could visit the Grand Ole Opry),

driving the 2001 Subaru almost nine hundred miles with the check engine light on, ordering Caleb's first Happy Meal as my McDonald's lunch…the whole time wondering at what moment Caleb would decide to graduate from Army crawl to real crawl.

North Carolina: the more-than-two-and-a-half-year ultimate destination for the Hobarts. Until May 2009, I had never stepped foot in this basketball-crazy state. Now Caleb will get his first rural-living experience, surrounded by bugs and all. Maybe, if we’re here long enough, he’ll remember splashing in his “mushroom baby pool” I will inflate and fill this week in the 90 degree weather. Maybe he’ll remember going to the lake beach just down the way to wade, play in the sand, and watch the boats. Maybe he’ll remember going to the local produce farm’s pumpkin patch this fall. But probably—no distinct memories at all, at least none that aren’t implanted by digital photos and movies. Our little Texan, who for a few months was an Arkansan, will now begin to become a Tar Heel.