Since yesterday was Friday, and I don’t have to get up early, I tried to set the alarm for 730am. This did NOT fool Brandon at all. He still got up at 624am, then when the alarm didn’t go off at 630am, he got a little ancy, but didn’t get fussy until 645am. That’s when he looked over the headboard (where the alarm is) and cried, “Music? Music?” Dave told me to stop torturing him and turned on his own alarm. “Mmm-k?” What could I do? I’ve already “trained” him with the music.
Turns out we needed to get up early anyways, since we were going to the post office for Brandon’s passport. We were trying to make it there by 8am, but we didn’t get there until 815am. But it wasn’t actually open until 830am. When we realized it, I said, “Oh, man!” So we went to the nearest coffee shop, quickly picked up something to eat, then went back. 825am: we went back and there was a line. Then Brandon said, “Oh, man!” A security guard asked if we were waiting for passports, then informed us that the passport booth doesn’t open until 9am! So we went down to the train station. Brandon saw one, then said, “Choo-choo Thomas!” An express train came through, and he was so surprised! I was holding him, and he clenched his legs so tightly around my waist. But he was also thrilled to see one! We stayed for another train, then headed back up. Finally, we were able to apply for the passport! Dave took the train to work, then we went home to wait for dance class.
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We missed last week’s dance class because Brandon and I were both sick. Apparently, he really missed his friends. As soon as the cutest girl in class arrive (late) with her mom, Brandon got off my lap, and perched himself right in front of them. He was on sitting with his legs crossed, just watching them. Luckily I was right next to them, because I wasn’t sure what he was doing. So everyone else sang the Good Morning song, while he sat and admired the little girl. Then after about 30 seconds of staring and smiling, he leaned forward and bopped her on the nose. I grabbed his hand and brought him back to sit with me. Luckily she didn’t cry, she just blinked, made a funny face and then carried on with the song. When they were under the parachute, half-way through class, he gave three of them hugs. They weren’t just any hugs, they were deep, long embraces. He hugged the other little boy there, who didn’t really know what to do. He even hugged the really shy girl; I thought she might explode. And there was the cutest girl in class, she was lying on the mat under the parachute and he climbed on top of her to give her a hug. All this time, I was scrambling around under the parachute trying to give him his space, not really knowing who or what was coming next. But I didn’t want him to hurt anyone. All the other moms were wondering, “who was next” as Brandon haphazardly went from one kid to the next. They all said, “Ahh….” while I was trying to pull him off. He has a tendency to hug, then drop to the ground, like a baby wrestling move – maybe like a baby piledriver? He picks the smaller kids, which is also dangerous. While I don’t want to encourage him not to give hugs, I’m trying to teach him that not everyone may enjoy them as much as we do. We only have two more classes together, so we’ll see.