it's finally official

Harry hates me.

He told me so, straight to my face. Repeatedly, and deliberately.

Apparently I never let him do anything...

How about a quick look back at the weekend that was, and how I/we never let Harry do anything:

Friday:
Friday was actually a HUGE day in Harry's book as far as I'm concerned. For hose of you who haven't been following along, Harry began his next phase of education beginning a pre-school this past week. I'm thinking it was probably good to start it on a 4-day week, or maybe just luck of the draw. Regardless, as we expected the first few days were rough, much crying and clinging ensued, but in Harry's defense, things got progressively not-so-bad as the week went on.

That is until Friday's marked improvement.

Harry started off with what had become his typical matter-of-fact adimission that he really thoguth it would be best if he stayed home, but ever so slightly less so. No tears today, just a big lower lip (Magoo knows where he gets this from...). Somewhere during the quick ride down the hill, the tables turned. WHen we arrived, Harry walked across the parking lot (usually this is where the clinging begins), skipped across the kids tiles to the gate, and walked right in... himself. We signed in, went upstairs to hang his bag on his hook, and he even said he wanted to go back down to the first floor.

You can imagine my surprise, as this is where we had quickly adopted a routine with Ms. Diane; she'd grab her coffee, set herself down on one of the tyke-sized chairs, I'd plop Harry down for some solid cry-time (which I was later reassured that was only for my benefit -- he was apparently fine after I left). However, this time, he went over to Ms Diane to offer that he wasn't going to cry today, and I headed out, only to be met in the schoolyard by an enthsiastic knock on the window and a huge grinning wave from Harry.

What a way to start your day!

Friday evening brought us back to our weekly visit to Generous George's for some positive pizza and pasta, only after a brief encounter with Ms Anita next door, so Harry could let her know where we were headed.

After coming home, Harry spotted one of his own across the street at the playground, and proceeded to yell his name (at a dead sprint no less) from our yard, across the street, through the parking lot, into and across the park. TJ's a great kid, but I don't think he's totally bought into the hero-worship he gets whenever Harry sees him.

After many races on the slide (up and down), some serious swinging, and general running-around, Harry finally made it home and to bed. out like a light.

Saturday
Saturday n with some splitting up. Kim headed off to Abra for an orientation session to get the real-er scoop on everything, while I went with Harry to his new Little Gym session. This one's also a new phase for him, as all of the previous ones had been with the parent(s) in the room participating with the kids. Now he's considered a big kid, and class is just for them, we get to sit outside of the glass and watch. It's like having been the assistant coach for 3 years, down on the bench, fully involved in helping make things happen, and then suddenly watching the game at a bar, with the sound off.

Needless to say, I thought he did GREAT. I was mostly impressed that he appeared to listen to directions for the entire hour, and even performed some of the skills successfully, that he'd been having trouble with in the past (somersaults in particular).

We headed home to a house full of Kim's formerly-FIT friends who were all over for lunch. Recall earlier, neighbor TJ's discomfort with his pedestal position? Ledi on the other hand, relishes in it in the best possible way. She seems to love that Harry follows her every word and action, and he loves doing it. About halfway through the afternoon, Ledi switched spots with her older sister Hannah. The 2 of them run at even money for the coolest kids in the world in Harry's book, so he didn't miss a step. Time spent with everything from demonstrating his own video games, to hockey & basketball in the basement.

Lunch ended and Harry finally took a nap, only to be met on the front porch by another front-runner in his hall-of-fame, and Abra Alum, Nicholas. They played on the porch, chalk-drew on the porch, you name it... finally again, off to bed.

Sunday
Another big day on Sunday. Starts off with fresh pancakes and fruit for breakfast, and many work phone calls for me. Bide our time with as much away from the TV as possible for a Sunday morning, and head off for the last day of the season at the pool. Harry spent the vast majority of his time, as he is wont to do, getting others to watch as he jumps off the side, puts his face under and blows bubbles, and floating on his back, feet kicking furiously. The side conversations that tend to follow usually go something like this... "see how that boy just jumps right in?" and "he just puts his face right in... you try."

Satisfied with his pool time for the day, and sounding hungry, we headed home, only to find that the DOmino's man had already been through, and he proceeded to wolf down 2 slices, only to be met on the porch again, by Nicholas. Back across the street to the park, for more climbing, sliding, racing, swinging, monkey-bar-ing, etc. Luckily (you pick for whom), some other kids came looking for Nicholas, as we headed out for Harry's pre-scheduled playdate with all of the kids from Menike's.

Kim has mentioned before, that when these kids all meet up, they play HARD. By hard, they go non-stop for the entire time. By non-stop, I mean running... everywhere. After about 2 hours of us getting tired just watching, we headed home for a quick dinner interrupted by several "911" calls from work, and an even quicker tub (sans just one show before bed).

Cue the screaming, then the sniveling, then the whimpering pout, and then the denoument:

Lower lip out, brow furrowed...

"i hate you daddy."

"you do? do you know what that means?"

"no... i hate you daddy"

sure you do dude...