Crash!

I decided to welcome my 4th kid and my 40's with a shiny new mini-van.   Who knew I was so cliche?  As warned, it took all of one ride for me to fall in love with the ease of the push button doors and the extra space.

Although I am still baffled as to how I got here...here....mom of ( soon-to-be) 4 children, stressors set on extra high, responsibilities that someone with my level of irresponsibility shouldn't have, and staring at 40....it seems that I have (almost) safely arrived.  I wonder if, yesterday, at age 18, while wondering free-spiritedly, down a path to nowhere, I took a wrong turn that had me skip a decade?  Perhaps that's how it happened?  Regardless, I am here and have the crows feet, muffin top, and mini-van to prove it.

The American mid-life crisis dream!

Anyway, I got the mini-van, drive it the short distance home and took it for its maiden voyage the very next day. With the three boys in tow, comfortably seated in the spacious seats, we headed down 95 South.  Everyone was excited to be cruising in style when a little VW booted me from the rear. 52 miles on the car and a jolt that, quite literally, knocked my change out of its cup.

I had seen it coming in the rear view mirror.  As the traffic was thickening on 95 and the sea of cars ahead had been flashing its break lights, I had done the same, easing up on my speed but not coming to a stop.  The gentleman behind me who was, likely, reading or responding to a text, did not choose to slow down at all and, instead, used my brand new vehicle as his method of halting.

The jolt was powerful, the sound was loud, but all of us were ok and the boys were not too scared.  I, however, was pissed.  I was 33 weeks pregnant, in a brand new car, and had all 3 of my sons in the car.  I dropped a few expletives, which the boys found amusing, before greeting my rear-ender with some conjured up kindness.

In the end, all is fine.  A car is just  a car, even when brand new.  We are all ok, and the guy was apologetic particularly after noticing my protruding belly.

It's only been two weeks, I have my car, ahem, MY MINI VAN back, the damage is fixed, and I am totally in love with it.  Once we get the infant seat in we can say we are ready for Baby 4.

Santa Claus, Someday!

Ryder has been climbing as long as he has been moving. At 8 months old he would climb up my body, up the couch, or up the coffee table. Then, in his near infancy, I felt the need to have extended arms below him in case a 14 pound meteor came crashing from the highest point.

As he got older I just expected to find him atop tables or bookshelves or windowsills.

Around 14 months the Tovsky men gene for car fascination kicked itself into high gear and Ryder would do whatever he had to to get himself into the drivers seat of our parked cars. He would handle the steering wheel as if he was cruising the Autobahn and touch every button (another of his favorite activities) just waiting for a jack-in-the box to jump out. The next time we would start the car we were usually greeted with blaring music, high-speed wipers, blinking hazards, and high beams. And, often, a quarter stuck in the CD loading slot.

As Ryder got older he got smarter, more capable, and more agile. He became a sort of Spiderman/gymnast/MacGyver hybrid of nimble mind and body. Climbing walls became no challenge, and for hard to reach places he learned to move over chairs, toys, or stools. He learned which buttons operated which functions and which key started the engine.

Recently, we've gotten smarter too! We've learned to lock the doors after leaving the car so that he can't get in! Genius, I know!

Today I found a very wet, very naked Ryder taking a break from his skinny dip to play in my locked car! How'd he get there? He climbed up the truck, across the hood, up the windshield and in the sunroof.

It won't be long until he is sliding down chimneys to get into the house.