Tag Archives: Cars

Countdown is on…

“Dad, when is Brant gonna be able to go to the movies with us?” Maren asks once in a while.

Probably not for a while, he’s only 2, I tell her. I don’t tell her it’s tough enough to sit through a movie with a 7-year-old.

Monsters University is coming to a theater near us soon, so that’s probably next in line of films Maren and I will go see. I actually don’t remember the last time I saw a film in a theater with an actual real person in it. Such in the life of a parent.

But then I saw the above preview for Disney’s new Planes movie, out in August. It might be the one we have to take Brant to. He wears out Cars and Cars 2. He has probably seen each of them about 200 times, maybe more, and is certainly an offshoot of that.

Not only that, he digs planes. Maybe not as much as cars, but he loves them. Last summer we spent a weekend with friends in New Jersey. We took the kids to a playground which just happened to be directly along the flight pattern for Newark’s airport. Every minute or so for an hour a plane would fly overhead and every single time it did Brant would point up and yell “plane!”

So the countdown to August 9 is on.

No way!

My son and I have a vastly different relationship than he and my wife do. It’s pretty simple, really. Brant listens to her, he does not listen to me.

When I go to change him in the morning to get ready for daycare, he often crawls under the table and sits there. He’s hiding, of course. Not very well, of course, because he can’t quite get that his feet still stick out from under the table cover.

So I drag him out and then the real fun starts. It’s like wrestling a wet fish trying to get his diaper changed and put his clothes on. Every day it ends with crying, usually it’s him, but once in a while (maybe every other day) it’s me.


Always putting in a shift

Even though Brant is on the verge of 2, I’ve long since been resigned to the fact that he digs his mom more than me. It’s okay. He’ll come around, I keep telling myself. Eventually he’s going to want to throw the football and this guy’s gonna swoop in and be heroic.

But for now it’s a battle. When I come home from work, Brant hears the back door open. He starts yelling ‘Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” as he races around the corner. I kneel to catch the biggest hug in the world and he takes off in the other direction without ever slowing down.

One thing Brant does like to do with me is talk, though. I’ve written a couple of times that he is tough to understand because he doesn’t know a ton of words. That has never stopped a Bowman child from talking however. He is getting better, which means we can have enough of a conversation to get something accomplished. The other day my wife asked if he was ready for bed and he yelled ‘No way!” Uh, yes way, kiddo.

The world is built for people who lack self-awareness and that’s what it is like having a conversation with little Brant. On Thursday we were walking out of daycare and I asked how his day was. Nine out of 10 times, it’s “good,” but now with his ever expanding vocabulary, he told me about his day from start to finish. He talked from the second I put his hat on, through one door, down the hall, through another door, down another hall, out the front door, across the parking lot, the entire time I buckled him in the car seat. He was talking when I shut the door to walk around the car and was still talking when I opened my door to get in.

So from ‘how was your day’ he talked for at least 3 minutes. I understood the following: Good, Jaxson, Cars, babies, blocks, and yellow. Other than that, I have no idea how his day was.

But at least we talked. And he even held my hand.

Mini mom

There are times in my life when I simply get up and walk of out the room. It’s just easier than dealing with two crazy women, one the mom and the other her 7-year-old twin.

To say my wife and daughter are the same people, one just a smaller version of the other, is an understatement. They are both strong-willed, yet fragile, meaning they need to get their own way more often than not. Or else. Oh, and they look exactly the same.

There are times, maybe once a week, where Maren does something and moves on with her life, walking out of the room. As she does, my wife and I make eye contact for a second, thinking the same thing. “That kid has an awful lot of her mom in her.” Just last night they were both ready to start packing for vacation, which doesn’t start until the first week in April.

If Maren grows up to do all the things her mom has done, she’ll be fine. On the other hand, I’ve often heard stories of how my wife was like a second mother to her younger sister and that is without a doubt happening in our house.


In the early days, Maren smothering and Brant with his kung-fu hands.

As I have said before, Brant wants nothing more in life than to be everything his big sister is. That’s a lot of responsibility for a 7-year-old girl to have on her shoulders, but one that Maren relishes and Brant feeds it by listening to her without fail. There is a 5 1/2 year difference in age between the two, but Maren has not yet reached the point where her little brother is annoying, or icky or has boy cooties. So they do a lot of stuff together, whether it’s coloring or watching TV or playing on the swing set.

But there are times where I can see it annoy Brant. Like when he wants to watch Cars and she wants to watch Barbie, Brant breaks into the silent cry, Maren breaks down and runs to her room and the problem is solved. It is a problem I can see coming up more and more because Maren is a control freak, and an alpha female.

Poor Brant, not only does he have to live by his parents’ rules, he’s got to live by his sister’s rules. Kid’s never gonna know what hit him.