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We interrupt this season . . .
You already know a little bit about how Bergen plays soccer. (Or doesn’t.) But Kevin posted about it in an even funnier way. It made me laugh. And I bet you will laugh too. Read it here.
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King of Proclamations
Bergen Hawkeye is the King of Proclamations. (I am confident that he himself would be proclaiming this announcement right now if he knew how to type and could access this blog.) Particularly of the very obvious variety. And no proclamation is ever good enough unless it is delivered at a decibel slightly louder than necessary. Right? Two recent proclamations of note . . . (Outside standing on the lawn with Chris) “Chris, don’t forget. Ticks live in the grass.” and (Sitting in the car chatting with Torrye through the open window) “Torrye – your teeth are attached to your gums!”
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Celebrate Good Times – Come On!
Bergen, that little boy-man, turned five this weekend. Five. One whole hand. And for his birthday he only asked for one thing – monster trucks that could sit on a cake but could later be removed to play with. (Really. That’s what he asked for.) So we went with a theme. There were three monster trucks on his cake. (And he removed them all and played with them.) There was a monster truck race course, complete with bridges, ramps, mud puddles, flags, jumps and a grand finale jump into a swimming pool. (Assembled by our almost-in-residence-birthday-planners Chris and Ben (and Rachael). You might recognize them from other Keigley birthday celebrations…
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Things That I Do Not Do Well
1. Remember to change our home’s air filters. 2. Small talk. 3. Go to bed at a reasonable hour. 4. Sweep. 5. Drive at night. 6. Take out trash. 7. Get up when the alarm first sounds. 8. Chit chat on the telephone. 9. Watch commercials. 10. Return phone calls. 11. Clap in rhythm. 12. Potty train my children. 13. Respond to e-mails in a timely fashion. 14. Keep Magnus from making a mess. 15. Check the mail.
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Berg Is All Boy
I cannot say that I remember much about high school biology. (Sorry Mrs. Hendricks, it’s just true – okay?) And my final thoughts are still on hold about the entire nature vs. nurture argument. But this I do know. My son Bergen Hawkeye is all boy. All boy. I have done very little, if anything, to directly influence boy-like behavior in this four year old wonder. I have not personally ever purchased a toy gun for my son. Nor a bow and arrow. Or a toy hatchet or knife or whatnot. (Of course, Berg does own these items. I have just never thought to purchase them.) But, listen (especially…
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okay
I was nursing Wilder. Bergen was hovering around. So far, perfectly normal. “Man,” Bergen says, “I sure wish I could try some of that milk.” You already did, son. You already did.
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Calls It Like He Sees It
Bergen likes to call things by the names he thinks are best, even if they are not correct. These delicious little peanut butter kiss cookies? Needle Tips.
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Bergen Hawkeye – The Interview
The following is an interview with a little boy. A little boy who lives life so wide open and so exuberantly. A little boy missing two front teeth from two separate traumatic events. A boy with a scar on his right cheek from running into Jane’s truck. And another scar on his chest from a nail on a dock last summer. A little boy who cries far more often from hurt feelings than from hurt limbs. My little boy. It is a rare and exclusive peek into the mind that is Hawkeye. (Rare in that he does not frequently stand still long enough to answer a series of questions. Exclusive…
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The Right Team
Bergen is a boy who approaches life wide open. Most people only see Hawkeye revved up, nearly careening out of control at any given moment. But the boy has more depth than that. He loves his siblings. Loves them. He particularly loves his younger siblings. Adores would not be too strong of a word here. Berg offers to hold Piper’s hand when walking outside. He requests the pleasure of tucking her in for daily naps. He reads her books and plays Weebles endlessly with her. Each morning he ambles into our bedroom, thumb in mouth, searching for Otto Fox so he can get in his daily dose of cuddling.…
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Give Me A New Law
While helping Bergen get dressed one recent morning, I experienced a momentary lack of sanity. I asked this four year old boy, “What do you want to wear?” Well, Hawkeye wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to wear, but he had a pretty good handle on what he did not want to wear. The conversation went almost just like this . . . “How about this shirt, son?” “Ummm, too many buttons. “ “What about this one?” “Too big.” We finally picked a shirt that was neither too big nor featuring too many buttons. On to the shorts. (I was already in this deep, I just kept right on digging…
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This Boy
This boy was shopping with his family at Hobby Lobby, searching for great Father’s Day gifts for an artistic dad. His sweet, calm, beautiful mother was patiently waiting for several pieces of art work to be framed. This little boy really needed to use the bathroom. Accompanied by his older sister, this young gentleman approached the public restroom facilities. At this particular art and hobby store, the bathroom door was located directly beside the emergency exit door. The little fellow anxiously reached for a door handle. A shockingly loud noise reverberated throughout the entire store. Apparently, this little guy had accidentally tried to open the emergency exit instead of the…
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The Magic’s in the Music . . . .
(Photo disclaimer – another photo that has very little to do with the post. But it’s Piper and that little unnecssary, but adorable, ponytail. Well, calling that sprig a “ponytail” is a stretch, I know!) When Bergen Hawkeye was a baby I finally had a good idea to help him differentiate between day time naps and night time sleep. Mosely was dependent on a blanket and that was really a bad idea because blankets can be lost (she has lost two) and blankets can be forgotten on road trips. And lost blankets add up to sleepless nights for Mosely and everyone else within earshot. So with Bergen I wanted to…
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Through Little Mister’s Eyes
Everything is an adventure to Bergen Hawkeye. Every piece of furniture provides a leaping off point. Every line painted on the pavement is a jumping challenge. Anything higher than his knee is an opportunity to test his swinging strength. Hopping out of the car is a contact sport. He doesn’t just look over the edge of a counter – he scales the counter first to see what experience lies on the other side. For Bergen, all movement must be forward. Every obstacle can, and should, be climbed. Time is on his side. Deadlines matter not at all to him. You need to be on time for an appointment? What does…
