One Man’s Trash is Another Man’s Treasure

Daniel’s interests have switched from trains to garbage trucks in a major way. He always liked garbage trucks along with his trains, but now he plays with them more than his trains (um…what to do with the train table in our living room?).

I get it. Garbage trucks are big and have huge, moving parts. There is a lot of variety (so I’m learning) in how they pick up garbage, their shape and their color. Even better, they are more accessible than trains to his daily life.  Every day is garbage day for some house in our neighborhood of 300 houses.  Our county doesn’t provide garbage service, so each household selects its waste management company independently.  As a result, there are many different types of garbage trucks and garbage cans for Daniel to see every day.

Daniel can identify the sound of a rumbling garbage truck before I register that something is coming down the street.  Many times I have heard him shout, “garbage truck” and run to raise the blind on the window so he can look out.

We’ve given Daniel a few chores to do and by far, his favorite is to help his daddy take the garbage out to the curb. Wednesday may be our garbage day, but Tuesday means that when we get home, he must help roll the can to the curb.  He does it joyfully, grinning from ear to ear.

I told Daniel he could grow up to drive a garbage truck, but he looked at me as if I were teasing him. I don’t think he believes me.

Being a boy mom has altered how I perceive the world, and I find wonder in so many things I used to scorn before or simply not notice. Including garbage trucks.

For now, at 4, taking out the trash is fun for him. We’ll see if he still feels the same way at 14.

Memories Captured: Just an average Thursday night

Linking up with Galit Breen from These Little Waves and Alison at Mama Wants This for their Memories Captured linkup.

 

Intent on his movie

Oh, Daniel.  What a big boy you are.  You turned 2.5 last week, and if I hold my head a certain way and squint, I can still see the scrawny newborn you were.   You love trains and cars and trucks.  You are starting to play more independently, which is great when I need to get something done but not-so-great because it is a sign that you are growing up and growing away.

One minute you are all rough-and-tumble boy, running around the house, slamming your head into windows and doors just for the fun of it.  The next minute, you scrunch up your little face and say, “hurt” and come to me for a kiss to make it all better.

For now, when I hold out my arms for a hug, you run into them eagerly. For now.  You love  your “cuddlies” as we call them and make my heart hurt when I see you hold them tight and kiss them.

Thank you for being you: funny and sweet and sensitive and mischievous and curious and energetic.

Love always,

Mommy

 

Silly boy!