Time is not on my side

Perhaps I should be happy we got this far into Will's school career before disaster struck. This morning we forgot his backpack.

As I told him to have a great day and make sure he grabbed his backpack, oh, the horror. It was not in the car. We looked at each other with huge eyes and I sensed that tears may start to fall.

Let me back up a bit. Well, maybe not just a bit ... let me back up about 28 years. I had a homework assignment to color code a map. My teacher had been very clear that we were to use color pencils, not crayons.

As soon as Bus #13 departed from Pineview Elementary, I realized that I'd left my color pencils at school. My stomach dropped to the floor, my hands and feet got tingly and my eyes swelled white-hot as I unsuccessfully fought back tears.

I'm sure there was some reasonably solution (probably involving my cousin Rona who lived down the road and who was in the same class as me). But, now, nearly 30 years later, I don't remember the resolution. I just remember the panic.

This morning, when Will and I realized his backpack was not in the car, oh, how I knew his pain.

He was wondering how he could be ready when the bell rang. Would he get in trouble? What would he tell the teacher?

Before his tears could well any more, I announced a plan.

"You go into your classroom. I'll go get your backpack and bring it to you right away."

"WHAT? NO! I can't go in without my backpack! I'll go with you."

"No, you can't, you'll be late for school."

He looked at me like I was crazy to suggest he go into the school sans backpack.

I smiled, "It's fine! I'll bring it right away. Quick like a bunny."

He reluctantly left the car, feeling naked, I'm sure. I booked out of there as fast as school zones allow (OK, maybe a little faster...they were all mostly inside by then anyway).

When I got to the school, they were just finishing the Pledge of Allegiance and a moment of silence for Veterans Day. I brought the backpack in, checking Will's eyes for any evidence of puffiness.

"Oh, thank you," his teacher said. "He was so upset."

My heart sank as I realized Will had experienced one of those hurts he might still remember when he's in his mid-30s. I'd wanted so much to protect him by darting home for the backpack.

When I picked him up after school today, I told him, "Mommy was quick this morning, right? Can you believe how fast I got back with your agenda book?"

My plan was to try to replace his negative memory with a positive memory of his mom, "the hero who always saved the day."

"No," he said, completely serious. "It took forever."

"What?" I said. "No way! I went as fast as I could, I just ran in the house and drove straight back to school!"

"Mommy, it took a long time. Are you sure you didn't stop to go shopping?"

As we grinned at each other, I realized that Will may have inherited my tendency toward completely irrational panic, but he also inherited another trait from me (and his dad, grandpa, aunt and uncles): a good, healthy dose of smart-aleck.

Grandma Tappa's

Had a nice Saturday morning with the boys, including a hair cut for Charlie and a stop at Grandma Tappa's. She had a great time with her great-grandsons, goofing around with Charlie and completing a puzzle with Will. Here are some blurry pictures from my BlackBerry.

P is for progress

Charlie woke up at 5:22 this morning, jibber-jabbering away.

As I pulled him out of the crib, he wiggled out of my arms and ran to the bathroom like a man on a mission.

When we got there, I was shocked to see him pointing at the potty chair. (He had found it and seemed interested so I figured it couldn't hurt to let him get familiar with it.)

I asked him, "Do you want to use the potty?"

He nodded and helped me take off his pajama pants and diaper.

Then he proceeded to pee all over the floor about a foot from the potty chair.

But that's progress, right?

Last week I issued a decree to Scott and Will that they need to sit down to go whenever Charlie is around.

As the person who has to clean the floors and walls near the toilet, I felt it was well within my rights to make such a declaration.

That hasn't happened, of course. My decrees generally don't amount to a hill of beans.

But, I'm encouraged.

We've been up for about an hour now and Charlie just brought me a diaper and a changing pad. Cool.

On a hunch, I gave him the rolled up dirty diaper and asked if he could throw it away. After some narrowly-missed detours, he tossed it in and ran back to me for a celebratory hug.

I think it's going to be a good day.

Will's first Badger game

Took Will to his first Badger game on Saturday, as Wisconsin crushed Purdue. It was a great day. Will was very patient and enjoyed all the different parts of a football Saturday in Madison: the band, Bucky's various Halloween costumes, Jump Around, and a blowout win for the good guys. And I didn't even have to keep a constant stream of food shoveling into his mouth. Can't wait to take him again!

Kids Day at the Kohl Center

Friday was Kids Day at the Kohl Center, a nice event the University of Wisconsin athletic department staged because most of the state's schools were out for the day. There were a number of stations where kids could try their hand at different sports, and of course get free stuff.

The highlight came when we snuck inside to watch hockey practice, and a Badger skated over, picked up a couple pucks with his stick, and flipped them over the glass to the boys. They loved it!

Oh, and Jana told the boys the story of the 2002 Wisconsin-Northern Michigan game, in which five brave Yoopers traveled to the Kohl Center, cheered their pure little hearts out, but were mercilessly heckled by Badger fans as UW came back to win with two late goals. You can see she's still got a ways to go before she gets over it.

Watch it!

Will just counted to 119 and then 120 and 120 AGAIN and we STILL weren't there.

I told him, "We need to get you a watch, it'll save you a lot of counting."

He responded, "yeah, I need a watch. And it has to be one I can understand, not one with all those lines."

As we arrived he said, "oh, I can see the Fun-ness inside!"

Like father ...

This is a mini version of his dad, right down to the wrapped blanket and the barely-used stack of pillows behind his head.

Is it too obvious to call him "Scott Tappa Jr.?"

Or, perhaps it should be "Ken Tappa III."

A great conversation

I was in Cincinnati for a day earlier this week, and carried on the following text message conversation with Will (with Jana typing for Will, who thankfully is not old enough to do it himself yet).

Will: Hope u have a good juice box night. And don't forget to have scissors for dinner.

Daddy: Thanks! I wish you a purple night and sandals for dessert.

Will: Have a good nap in your bamboo skin and don't forget to have a street light for dinner.

Daddy: Sleep in pizza and have sweet bread rolls.

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Recently seen on Facebook

Some recent child-related Facebook status updates, for those of you on MySpace or Friendster.

10/24
Thought I could tire Will out by giving him a sledgehammer (or in his words "sludgehammer") and letting him destroy an old computer desk. Instead, he informs me he is now "energied up" and that his muscles feel bigger.

10/18
Had a nice day on the Iola Ice Age Trail experiencing, as Will put it, "Nature's Mother."

10/17
Will requested we delay going into Target so we could listen to the end of Bohemian Rhapsody, which he then labeled a "weird" song. Yeah, if by weird you mean awesome!

Not sure why, but we're attempting to take both boys to see Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs. We may clear the theater if they see us coming.

10/15
Three games, three TD runs for Will, style points again. And we won tonight! Last-second goal line stand helped by darkness and Tanner from the other team losing a tooth. The Tooth Fairy was our outside linebacker.

Halloween in Scandinavia