Phoenixisms

I'm far behind on posts lately - he's doing cute/fun things faster than I can blog! So i wanted to just get some P quotes out.

11.15.07 We were listening to Claire de lune and he stopped playing, turned to me and said "That is a sad story mom."

Speaking of music, he's just gotten into singing with words in the past 2 months. He's hummed since he was tiny, but never sang songs. He always refused to be one of those cherub cheeked reciters of The Itsy Bitsy Spider or Twinkle. So he finally rips out his first tune after his third Bday and it is "oompaoompaoompadeedoo" from Willy Wonka. He's never seen the movie, but E's plagiarized it when storytelling.

12.26.07 Last night we aired up the Aero bed for visiting family. Phoenix was in heaven jumping on it. He then climbed onto a chest from which to plummet. He stopped and asked if it was ok, would it pop? Ethan told him he'd be fine, he didn't have enough lead in his ass to pop the bed. Washing dishes, I sighed, but said nothing, hoping it would pass unnoticed. I have no problem with cussing, love it, actually, but enjoy the thought of P's vocabulary growing in a playground appropriate direction nonetheless. The next 5 minutes consisted of P flinging himself off of the chest while chanting "Not much ass in my fault." Finally, Ethan repeated the original phrase and turned to me saying "he may as well get it right." The following 5 minutes consisted of ass propelling and Properly Phrased chanting.

12.26.07 The waitress at one of our fave Italian eateries is an angel with kids. She coos and teases "Felix" each time we visit. Last time he ordered the pumpkin ice cream, served in a little pumpkin. It was delicious and Very Frozen. She asked P if he liked it. "Yes," he told her, "It cold to my mouth." She laughed and asked if he wanted her to put it in the microwave for him. "Mmhm," he innocently nodded in thanks as he slid the bowl towards her. Her laugh was huge and P first looked surprised, then smiled at himself. "I'm just teasing you Felix," she told him. "I just teasing you too."

12.20.07 We were going to bed the other night and he turned to ask "How does our skin come off our skulls when we die?"

12.02.07 We have a Big blanket on our bed and a small, apartment sized washing machine. Food is allowed everywhere in our house, but we try to keep the messy stuff off of the bed due to washing difficulty. P wanted to wrestle on the bed and eat his dinner simultaneously the other night and we explained the problem. Always the problem solver, he smiled and said "Us have to wash it in the swimming pool sometime!"

12.12.07 Phoenix has been asking for a fire truck so I was looking on Craigslist for a cool one. I found one too, but she lives out on Long Island (no sub stops) and wasn't interested in shipping. P's eagle eye saw the pic on my computer and he informed me he Really wanted that truck. I briefly explained the problem. His problem solving skills jumped to the rescue. "Maybe we can use Our car!" Its in Kansas, P. "Maybe Grams' car!!" Its in Kansas too P. "Maybe she can send it in a box?" She won't. "Hmmm. I know! Maybe a rental car?!"

11.16. 07 P saw himself in the mirror and started making faces etc. Then he told me "When I look like this, I look like Grandpapa. When my head like this, I look like Jace. When I look up like this, I look like you."

11.12.07 At breakfast: "We gonna die today, mama?' This question quickly became a breakfast time staple. I don't remember the last time he didn't ask me if we were going to die that day. It seemed morbid at the time, but it has definitely served as a daily reminder of how precious each day is!

12.15.07 At dinner. "I want a knife to cut your skin." Me "You want to cut me?" P: "No, I want to cut Papa." Me: "You want to cut Papa? Why would you cut Papa?" P: "For grams and gramps, cuz they eat meat. I want to cut your skin open, Papa, for mama's daddy to eat." Thus a discussion of cannibalism and the supposed difference between papa and veal entered Phoenix's life...

12.18.07 P likes to tell stories. He loves to start with the plot, give us the basics and then have us re-tell the story to him. This day his story went something like this: "Phoenix was going to the North pole by ship. Mama go too. I hear shark noises. Duhduh... Duh duhh. And they flew in a air-o-plane cuz its dangerous to go by boat with sharks! Mama and Phoenix jumped up onto the plane and flew to the north pole. Oh! The mail is coming! The mail is here!" There were some more details and then he climbed into a rather small toy bucket and said "I'm the boy who lives in this bucket and never sleeps."

12.21.07 P: "I like books about minotaurs, but not real minotaurs."

12.24.07 He informed me the garage doors at gram's house were there to keep monsters out.

Comments and a Question

Just a shout out for all of the comments! Thank you. Phoenix loves hearing your stories and well wishes - I think it helps him understand the whole blog/faraway family thing a little more. (But the blog in general may be confusing his already egocentric view of the world. He sees pics of himself pretty regularly since Safari opens to his blog page on my computer - when we look up dinosaur names we see his face first! I knew for sure his view of life was skewed last Wednesday. We popped into the city and he saw an Enormous billboard sporting a picture of a cute baby. "That baby me, mama?" P innocently asking if a major ad in NYC featured his sweet face had me laughing so hard people turned to look at the crazy woman. P, of course, didn't understand why this was a funny question at all....) But back to the comments. One question from a blog newbie, should I post any responses through the blog or email people separately? Anyone, help with blog etiquette?

Peace, Porridge and Peter and the Wolf

Phoenix's appetite for stories is positively insatiable. Who doesn't love a good yarn, right? I'll tell you who, the person who's voice is hoarse from spinning the damn thing. P loves freshly formed Phoenix stories, tailored to his current interests. When we're too tired or lame to use our imaginations we read countless books. But often, we are done before he is. He especially loves books during dinner. But trying to eat while being climbed on by the small moving object you are shoving forkfulls of food at all while trying to feed yourself, chew and hold/read a book without spitting/spilling food everywhere gets old. Despite the widening of my ass to the contrary, I usually choose to wait until the food grows cold and the child spins to something else before venturing to eat. But the dream of warm food and peaceful meals continuously chewed at my brain. This week I finally found the solution.

We tried books on tape in Wichita. Rewinding and finding the spot he wants frustrates Phoenix (and me!). Books with CD's are user friendly but wouldn't last a day in our house. Try as he may, he's not quite ready to keep discs scratch free. Then I came across my old records. Remembering how much I enjoyed listening to my little record player as a girl I knew I had the answer. I found a portable record player DJ's use (read: sturdy) and ordered old children's records off of ebay. It all arrived yesterday along with a subtle but annoying cold for P and the combo was perfect. Most of the records don't have picture books, leaving P's imagination open to grow exponentially. I worried that without himself as star these illustration free records might not capture his attention, but he's actually more enthralled with them than the picture book records. His favorite so far is Tchaikovsky's Peter and the Wolf, told by Boris Karloff. I vividly remember being terrified and drawn to this same piece when I was young. I can't capture the terror any more, and P doesn't seem too nervous, but he's definitely drawn to it. That and Benny the Beaver, a beaver who plays instruments with his tail. He also favors Babar and Hooks and Ladder, a story about a day in the fire station. Most of these are 50 or 60 years old and have the sound effects familiar to old radio broadcasts replete with chorus and that funny Nathan Lane like accent. They are wonderful. And they are labeled "Unbreakable." Of course, we haven't told P that, but they've lasted through some 50 years of children's abuse so I'm guessing he's good to go. He's especially proud of his record player, what with the buttons and carrying case, I think he feels pretty big. But best of all, we've had 4 peaceful meals in a row and lots of chats about new subjects and vocabulary. As you can see above, P loves porridge and slurped it up while solemnly listening to Peter and then Hansel and Gretel this morning. And you know, porridge tastes much better warm.

Three: A Social Milestone

Since returning 2 weeks ago, P has played with his friends more than ever. And for the first time in his short life, the term "played with" is really appropriate! Normally, going to the park or playgroup was just a way to get him Near other children. Parallel play mostly. The occasional game of chase breaking the monotony of just running along side one another. But he's made some friends who are a wee bit older than him and now he can imagine with them as he imagines with us and its fun to watch.

Last week we played with Malek at the boys' indoor paradise, aka the Transit Museum. There are buses to drive and fill with gas, engines to watch work, old toy trains on display, decades worth of turnstyles to turn and a fascinating display of the subway's creation. If that isn't a morning full of fun, then you can head down the subway steps (the museum is housed in an unused sub stop) to the sub platform and run in and out of subway cars dating back 100 years.

We also played with his buddy, Benny, who Phoenix adores. They share a love of Cars and trains :) After some parallel play with trains, some car racing in the halls and then some bed bouncing/stuffed animal throwing the two started to plan and plot with their cars, talking amongst themselves, lining cars against the wall and zooming off down the halls. About the time Phoenix was really feeling comfortable, we were walking that line of overstaying our welcome and he had to be coaxed away from his friend...

Tuesday's playgroup supported my newly formed theory that P shines most with long playdates. It takes him a while to warm up to his grandparents each time he sees them, so it makes sense that he doesn't feel comfortable jumping right into the throng of things on a playdate. Tuesday, the roomful of boys played nicely with their individual cars or trains while the two girls wove elaborate stories and shrieked and giggled together. (I'm going to save the discussion on the seemingly obvious differences here, but it has been interesting to watch.) As kids started to trickle out and the clock ticked on, P finally started to play with those around him. We were the last to leave and P had to be coaxed away once again....

Wednesday morning I assumed we'd be in for the day after so much action. Surprisingly, after a few hours of play P announced he wanted to invite Malek over. Last week's playdate with Malek had gone swimmingly, so I ignored my gut and grabbed the phone. And it all started well enough. But Malek was in the mood for parallel play and moved from toy to toy rather than playing With Phoenix. P started to get grabby. So I fed the boys hoping the vibe was nothing more than hungry tummies. P tried some imaginative play but Malek wasn't into Rapunzel. We made a long train set with adequate room for them to both roam, but they crashed their trains together. They skirmished over squishy fish. Finally, P announced he was ready for Malek to leave. Linda was on the same timeline as P, but Malek was not. He floated from toy to toy, happily oblivious of expectations. P restated his preferences. Finished waiting, he walked over, grabbed his bowl of lentils and dumped it on Malek's head. Lovely Linda thought this was hilarious, I was mortified, as was Malek, and Phoenix felt vindicated. He may have reached a social milestone, but I'll have to be more careful when he reaches his social fill (or for his lentils) from now on...

Unschooly Quote

"Listen to the MUSTN'TS, child,
Listen to the DONT'S
Listen to the SHOULDN'TS
The IMPOSSIBLES, the WONT'S
Listen to the NEVER HAVES
Then listen close to me-
Anything can happen, child,
ANYTHING can be."
(Listen to the Mustn'ts, Shel Silverstein)

Puzzles, Puzzles Everywhere

So yesterday was a puzzle day. P gets in these spurts where he wants to do puzzle after puzzle after puzzle. So that's what we did. Much like the NHM, its fun to see his growth measured by his puzzle performance too. Unschooling true, I sit on my hands and keep my mouth shut as I see him butt unfitting pieces up against one another. Its amazingly hard to just Watch someone learn. But that's blue, and that piece needs red silly! But P doesn't do well with this sort of "help," and that would take away the point of the puzzle anyway, so I sit quietly and watch (if instructed) or cook (if permitted). After a bit he wants me to do it instead and so we take turns. Then, when its finished he immediately tears it apart and moves on to devour another one. No relishing completion here. He realizes what I often forget, the journey is the important part :)

And speaking of journeys. Two of his puzzles came in the cutest little luggage shaped carriers. When he had had his fill of puzzles he announced we were going on a trip and proceeded to carry his "baggage" to the conveyer belt. It went through security. He set off the metal detector. There were many iterations of the conveyer belt and metal detector scenario. Then he stowed them safely beneath his seat, buckled his belt and off we flew. To California. Hours later this game had morphed into him hijacking a plane and getting chased by the cops, replete with jail sentence and his daring escape. Now how he knows about these things in a T.V free house is the real puzzle to me.

Grams and Gramps and the NHM

The week we returned, my folks were in the city for business. The usual suspects for entertainment (parks, playgrounds, beach) were out due to inclement weather so we went to Phoenix's favorite museum. P Loves the Natural History Museum; it is his cold weather playground.

Its fascinating to watch a child grow. To hear a new word enter their vocabulary or see a new trick enter their repertoire. But so much of their growth is subtle; obscured from daily observation. Watching P at the NHM is like standing him in front of one of those doorway growth charts. Every month that we go is a totally different experience.

The first few times he just relished the (enormous) space to run. He wasn't even 2 years old and movement was really all he cared about. Slowly that evolved to running And glancing in the windows to walking from window to window to standing in front of the windows and asking questions. And this time, his little sponge brain was swelling (Greg), the questions reverberated for days. But all of the natural violence portrayed in those windows has him a bit confused. He can't kick the cat, but that cat can kill that gazelle? And apparently the spear holding hunter has given him a new venue for perplexing subjects he's been quietly kicking around in his brain. For instance, he saw my mom whacking some meat with a cleaver before dinner one night in Kansas. He asked about it and it seemed that the subject was closed and forgotten. Fast forward a month and one visit to NHM, and he's beating his soft animals with his hammer. He then hands them to me, informing me that I am to be a Neanderthal now, and asks me to eat the animal. I asked him what was up and he told me he had squished it to cook it and that Neanderthals eat meat, so I can eat it. After watching me chew on his animal for a minute he retrieved it and gave me a serious chat about becoming a vegetarian :) And for the first time ever, the damn Neanderthal's weapon (he doesn't even remember the name, but he hands me Tinker Toys to play the part) has entered our home too. (Just a hop, skip and jump to guns now :) But that's another post... ) So very much to learn!

So it was great that my folks were there to share P's favorites. He showed them the whale (his first stop each trip to the museum - the size just blows us away!). Then he wanted them to see The Squid and The Whale. In the movie by the same name (based on a fictional, separating family in our nabe), one son describes his early memories of this exhibit and I can't help but think P feels the same way. Repelled and compelled to view it simultaneously. It scares him, but he's fascinated by the fight and the dark and the size. So we shared this too and then moved onto mammals and dinosaurs and then, of course, the gift shop. P's true favorite at the museum :)

P's Pals

On our way back to NY we visited our fabulous friends in Lawrence. P Loves these people. He calls them Aunt and Uncle and believes they are family. Ella is the big sister P will never have and he talks about her all the time. Reed and P, now that they are both on the other side of that fantastic toddler phase of random pushing, are becoming fast friends.

In the past, these get-togethers were a constant hands on struggle. Gentle Please! Climb elsewhere please! Etc. But this time they were finally old enough to just Play. The kids had Way too much fun with some plastic fangs. They played vet and saved countless stuffed animals from ghastly diseases. They played monster/chase with Uncle Allen (and P had the black eye to prove it!) At one point Reed and Phoenix played quietly beside each other, switching toys wordlessly. This went on for 20 minutes and they almost seemed oblivious to each other's existence. Then, as one passed the other, they both reached out, held one another's hand for a moment and then continued on with their business. It was a joy to see them all enjoying each other so much. Of course, this also gave us adults more time to drink :)

Phoenix finally curses

Last night as P headed to bed he fell. He then turned to me and said "Mama, what's "shit"?" He knew it was the appropriate word, but didn't have a full grasp on its definition:) This reminded me that I hadn't yet journaled his first real curse. Not the mindlessly repeated kind, (the cat runs down the stairs and he repeats the same words E so profoundly stated when the cat snuck out on him) but an honest, proper usage. I hear cyber chuckles from many that it has taken three years for him to reach this point, what, with E's and my extensive vocabulary of colorful words...

Back in Kansas he found these probiotic "Slime" drinks (the company's name, not mine!) and finally weaseled me into buying them. They were obviously gross. (See "slime.") But they were brightly packaged, as many things at the health food store are not,featured a monster and the contents lacked food coloring. He Had to have it.

They came four to a package and upon opening the first one he was revolted by the smell (kefir). He sweet talked my mom into trying some when we got home. She sweet talked him into trying once more and again he couldn't even raise the slime spigot all the way to his mouth. "I no like that smell very much."

A few days later he wanted to try it again (that damn packaging. Slimy advertisers :) ) One whiff and he said "No thanks." Then he thought better of it and decided to make a concoction featuring the stuff. As I washed the dishes and he poured his mess into different glasses I heard his tell tale "Nuffin!" Nuffin, of course, means everything. I turned to see his concoction running off of the cabinet onto the floor. Quickly grabbing some rags, I handed one to him for the cabinet and I started cleaning the floor. Moments later I heard a gagging sound and looked up to see Phoenix scooting backwards from the mess, shaking his head in disgust at the smell, muttering "god dammit!" He'd really tried to help clean. Had stayed at it so long he'd wretched. Its only too appropriate that his first curse was connected to his super sensitive schnoz :)

Memories of Kansas

We've been back for a week and I haven't had a second to catch up here, but he's in bed early tonight so....

Today Uncle Seth asked P what he thought about his trip to Kansas. P replied, "Good. I missed New York." I thought it was an interesting summation. Its curious to be away for long periods now that he's really cognizant of his life. And while we had a very nice time in Kansas, he's repeatedly told me this week that he's happy to be home. The strange aggression that reared its head while away has dissipated and the change culminated today with one long song of "I love you's"," sung by Mr. Angel himself. (That and some silly song about Old McDonald eating his pants that he finds Truly Amusing. Unfortunately for P, he doesn't seem to have acquired the melodic voice that should have come with his father's funny feet.)

So it was sweet tonight to hear him list every family member he knows, saying he misses them. And so he should. Thanksgiving weekend was wonderful for P. He was chased. He was read to. He was introduced to new movies. He was caught, repeatedly, as he threw himself off of kitchen cabinets, at Jace, Grandpapa, Grams, Grama Mimi, Blaine, Seth, Alicia, Ian, Greg, and even my younger brother's very surprised girlfriend. Grandpapa piled leaves for jumping games. Everyone played cars with him. He was surrounded by helpers at the playground. He could put his finger to his forehead and people would shriek "Rhino!" on cue while being attacked again and again and again. Basically, he was adored and catered to. (I'd like to think this is his general state of existence, of course :) but to have sooo many loving caterers...)

Fortunately for P, 2 uncles live in NY. Also lucky for P, my folks were in town this week, extending the feeling of family in the city. We have our sights set on getting one more Uncle up here, but manipulative plans aside :) P's had a soft reintroduction to his home surrounded by sweet memories of his trip.

Snow, inside and out

I really need to work on extracting ourselves from my gracious parent's house (P has been kind enough to reeeally make himself at home here) but I thought I'd get out a couple of P pics first.

After the balmy fall we finally had a little snow. First, we had a fake snow storm inside with flour. Bless my mother for embracing this unschooling lifestyle of ours! Phoenix has claimed the center island of her kitchen as his and most projects occur at this central location. This was So much fun that said storm has been repeated numerous times in the past week. ("I really like the feeeel of it mama!") . It all started with an innocent 1/2 cup of flour and true to toddler form (jeez, 3 isn't really a toddler anymore is it?) 1/2 cup is never enough. Or, in P language "No, that not too much." So cup by cup he depleted my entire bag of flour onto the center island. Our old Star Wars craft and his recycling truck then navigated the snowy landscape. He truly tried to keep it on the table, but when his knees, toes and elbows were saturated with the stuff it was inevitable that dustings would make it to the floor. When he saw how cool that looked he forgot all about keeping it on the table and shoved a bunch off onto the floor, right when the chocolate lab happened past. My mom handled it beautifully, letting the dog outside to shake without missing a beat. This from the woman who had me dust crevices with a toothbrush as a teenager :) Grandkids have it good.

P has enjoyed that same (ever dwindling into the vacuum) bag of flour countless times now and his recycling truck has a permanent white sheen to it. But the seeming seriousness of his pursuit and his extreme homesickness for his dirt-pile makes the mess worth it. I don't know if my mom's kitchen floor would agree...

Then when we woke up one morning there was real snow on the ground and P was psyched. Holding him and saying good morning to my mom, I hadn't yet seen the snow. He grabbed my face, turned it to his, gave me a very pointed look and then turned my face to the window. I hope I never forget the excitement that look held. Then he wanted his boots, NOW, and to play in the snow. As you can see, he didn't feel the need to bundle. He raced willy-nilly, looking just as frisky in the cold as the horses and dogs. Then he remembered a book where the snow is describes as biting. He picked some up and then threw it down saying he had "snowbite." When he really was finally frostbitten we headed inside to work with some warmer snow on the center island. Happy trails on my mom's floor (flour or muddy boots), either way :)

T-1 to Tday

Phoenix has lacked a certain level of excitement for Thanksgiving. When he found out there were no presents involved he wasn't quite sure it deserved the name "holiday" or "special." He was thrilled it called for making his all time favorite dessert this morning, pumpkin pie. He was even more thrilled that the entire bag of flour that he emptied onto the counter fit into the back of his birthday recycling truck. But he still wanted to know when Winter Solstice or Xmas is. Then, tonight at dinner, I told him all of his Uncles would be at Grandpapa's house for T-day. Thanksgiving quickly changed for P. This Was a Special day. After affirming Uncle Seth had already arrived at Grandpapa's house he requested that I open the side door. He was leaving. Despite the dark and the freezing temperatures, not to mention him being mostly naked, he was ready to find his way to Seth. I asked him how he planned to travel. He said he'd drive the white car. I asked him how he'd reach the gas pedal. He thought for a moment and said "Papa do it." Ethan told P he'd call Seth after he finished eating, so Phoenix climbed onto E's lap and started shoveling the food into poor E's already full mouth. The man is generally a fast eater, but P managed to speed the process up even more.

After playing hard with Jace, Seth, Marielle, Alicia and, of course, Grandpapa, P was a tuckered boy. Just as we were leaving Uncle Ian arrived. We didn't stay to chat, but P overheard Marielle mention that she had been worried about Ian and Grandpapa mention Ian's broken cell phone. P quizzed me for details that I didn't have as we drove away. Without any hard evidence, he had to write the story himself. "Oh. I have a plan mama. Uncle Ian need to go to a phone store to get a new phone! And I know! There a phone store in New York! He need to go to New York and get a new phone. A green phone. A white phone. Orange! He need to get a new orange phone." We were in a phone store in Brooklyn once. I'm guessing they sold green, white and orange phones.

At any rate, now he's excited for Thanksgiving tomorrow. He wants more time with Ian and Seth. And he wants some of the chocolate he saw on Grandpapa's counter before we left. I said that would be no problem, Tday is dedicated to eating yummy stuff. To this he replied "Yay! Tomorrow we get to eat and grow!"

Naked in November

Until today, this week was a ballad to Global Warming. For our NY friends reading this and thinking that Kansas must be a "southern state," I say to you, nay, it is not. Generally, November is blustery with a few fall days of warmth, just to tease us. But this month has been a continuation of summer, and while enjoyable to the wee one wanting to play outside, it bodes badly for said wee one's future. Big sigh.

But P knows of none of this, and thoroughly enjoyed the sunny days. How warm was it here? The child played Naked in the Sprinkler. As promised to Marielle, there will be no naked P pics on the web, so no pics of the water play. But you can see him hamming for the camera outside, still naked, eating pretzels. Did I mention its November? After chasing the cat around and running pell mell through the grass he decided to climb a tree. He finally found something that wasn't all that fabulous disrobed, but he refused to pull on pants. He was just so happy that he had a moment of freedom from his binds :) We've tried to keep him covered at my folks house, a fairly constant struggle.

At our flat there isn't much room to roam. Certainly not enough space to lose each other in. Here it is another story. And while P wants tabs on me at all moments, he's greatly enjoying "disappearing" into other wings of the house. At lunch yesterday he tested his happy independence by wandering outside while we ate. We could see him playing out back, knew he was safe, and then he slipped around the side of the house and disappeared. And he didn't quickly reappear. Between the ponds, the pool, and his new proclivity to explore alone we figured we better check on the little guy. After E headed out one door I heard P come in another. Prancing. Glowing. The definition of "walking on air." "I took a nice little walk" he announced. After rounding up E, P took 3 or 4 more "nice little walks" around the house all by himself - feeling like the big man he believes himself to be. Then he peed on the floor. Three walks forward, 1 step backward...

Cousins day out

Despite the 9 siblings between Ethan and I, there isn't a single cousin within spitting age of Phoenix. He has 4 lovely college age cousins, but toy trucks aren't their thing. So we've really appreciated getting together with his second cousins this time home. Trucks aren't really Elizabeth's thing either, but she's a kid and super sweet to P, and that's all that truly matters to him. We had a lovely time playing in the brisk breeze at the Riverside playground. The space boasts 3 equipment sets and some Awesome climbing areas. The climbing rope Eiffel tower area did not boast the foam pit I would have preferred :) but it was admittedly very cool. You can also see P mid-air in an above pic - he's really into jumping off of things lately. High things. In my cousin's words "You have emergency room visits in your future."

I've mentioned before how, um, particular, P is about his clothing. I'd call about a playdate with his buddy Malek and his mom would tell me she just had to throw some clothes on her kid, they'd be ready in 5 minutes. "Throwing clothes on P" and "5 minutes" are generally two phrases that don't go together. Then when we'd meet, Malek would look cute in his blue jeans, button down shirt and sweater. Often he even wears a heavy coat or a hat. This seems like a normal thing, sure, but when I see a kid in jeans, or anything bulky, I always wonder, was there a thirty minute wrestling session involved there? P would no more wear jeans than a colony of ants. Pockets? Nope. Patches? Nope. Collars? Nope. Zippers? Zip, zilch, nada. It took us a little over 2 years to understand why getting the child out the door was such a miserable affair, but we're finally getting him figured. He's super sensitive to smells, bright lights, and, apparently, anything non-cashmere touching his body.

I've hoped all along that I didn't Do anything to encourage this (while still trying to honor his needs); nature/nurture is such a bitch for a parent to ponder. So I listened with great relief when my cousin Gretchen mentioned Elizabeth is the same way. Her older son, Caleb, will wear anything, so she knows it isn't Her fault :) P and little E even share some of the same quirks - occasionally, neither can stand the bottom of their pants to touch the top of their feet. As skinny little P shivered and jumped around the playground sans coat I was pleased to hear Gretchen tell me Elizabeth used to be the same way but will wear her coat now. So, he may be stylin' sweat pants for the rest of his life, but at least he won't have frost bite if he can make it to the ripe age of reasoning at 5.

Fun on the Farm

Phoenix has become an old pro at flying to Kansas. While he still obsesses about the call button on the airplane (he Really, really, really wants to push it) and he detests releasing his shoes and toys to the x-ray machine (who doesn't?), he seems to understand the drill. He always looks forward to our trips "home"; he Adores our families. But E and I have secretly worried that he will break our hearts one day and not want to return to our home. E's closest childhood friend has a teenage daughter who has grown up in locales like Moscow and Toronto and is now in NYC. As a teen she is thrilled to be there, but there was a time that she visited Wichita and wanted to move. The space, the yards, the cars, it was all so big and exotic, in a different way. So each trip home I wonder if my little man will yearn for big and bucolic over close-quarters and culture.

The days are filled here with Barry Bobbit on the tractor - an all time fave for P. Trees to be felled, towed and tossed onto the burn pile. The immense fire of the burn pile and more sticks to be thrown into said pile than P could ever wish for. The pond for rock tossing with that limitless supply of rocks and skipping stones. The hay bales to climb and jump. His little John Deere to ride or my dad's mule to adventure in. (Sidenote: Phoenix just woke up from his nap and informed me that a nice alien shared one of his cars with him.) At any rate, there is outdoor fun to be had everyday and a large house to roam. This doesn't even factor in the amazing attention he gets at E's house with his most favorite playmates in the world and more cars than you can count. When I look at it all I think he'll never want to leave.

Which, of course, makes it unusually sweet to hear him ask to go home every couple of days. Usually at the end of a long, eventful day. Sometimes just because he's thinking of a toy we didn't bring. Sometimes because he wants his bed or his stoop or his aquarium or his dirt-pile. But at the end of the day its nice to know he likes both of his "homes."

Birthday Boy

Phoenix's excitement for Halloween was only surpassed by his pants-peeing excitement for his Birthday. He started a list months ago. He has spoken of his birthday on a daily basis for a month. Much like Halloween wasn't about the costume but the candy, his birthday wasn't about the new digit but the presents. Phoenix LOVES getting presents. I know, he's three. This seems too obvious to even mention. But P will spend Hours putting a new toy back into its packaging, putting it in a shopping bag and pretending to be surprised. When he tires of this he plays shop with it and buys the darn thing for the next couple of hours. Its not just the new toy bit, but the actual Getting of the Gift.

His day didn't disappoint. He had ice-cream cake and a hot-potato led scavenger hunt with E's family. E and I steadfastly uphold a one-gift-per-occasion rule. So understandably, he was glassy eyed with sheer ecstasy as he was led to one hidden present after another. He was too stoked to fully capture hot-potato, but Grandpapa, Jace and Mimi deftly helped him scout out his treasures. His new recycling truck (dare I forget and call it a Trash Truck, he'll point out the words for me on the side and fake-read "No, mama, it says Re-cy-cling truck. See?) beeped with constant attention for the next 3 days straight and we had to tote all of his new toy cars with us in his backpack for a week.

After play-time with E's family we had pizza (P's choice) with my folks and brother Greg. He had also chosen carrot (over chocolate or gingerbread) cupcakes with candles for dessert. I knew from last year that the whole candle-blowing moment is gone in an instant and I was determined to capture it on film this time around. To that end I purchased the candles that suddenly re-light. Since P never feels he has adequate time to play with fire, he greatly enjoyed this treat and I could play with my camera And enjoy the moment :) After such a fun-filled day we planned to wait until the following morning for my parent's present, but my Father was too excited. Seems we have two gift lovers in this house :) I have yoked my parents into the "one gift" rule too, so my mother tries her best to appease me And please P. She found him a toddler size Vespa (its only one gift!) to putter around on in NY when he misses his John Deere. It was dark by then and he has been scared of the dark since Halloween (thus curbing a trek around the dimly lit drive), so he careened around their house shrieking with pleasure until E and I called a halt to this gut wrenching, house ruining activity. Needless to say, we were up bright and early the next morning to play with everything. Interestingly enough, with so many new things he didn't re-wrap or re-receive even once. Seems he was finally satiated :)

Halloween in Kansas

First, sorry for the delay. My computer has been under the weather.

Phoenix has been "preparing" for Halloween for weeks. Literally. He practiced trick or treating (and candy eating) at our house daily last month. He would instruct me to be a witch or Mildred (the toothless old lady) and then knock on doors and make noises to give me hints concerning his numerous pretend costumes. Despite his real life choice of a motorcycle, his pretend play typically featured him as a mouse or a dragon. Even during these dry runs he had a hard time asking a stranger for candy. (Its me, sure, but he seems confused on that topic. If I ask him a difficult question while pretending to be someone else he always says "I want mom to come back for a minute." Then I have to tell him that I'm me, and he'll ask me the question. Then he'll request the pretend character again and give "her" the answer.) So usually he would just hang around making squeaking sounds and sniffing towards his candy bowl until I proffered the sweets.

So after so much pre-holiday fanfare, he was pretty psyched on the big day. We went to E's parent's house because their neighborhood is a Never-land for Halloween. The block of Broadview is decked out with flying ghosts, alien spacecraft, ginormous spiders and five thousand children. After trying the madhouse for a while, losing grandma Mimi and E, Phoenix requested we leave the mayhem. On the walk home we tried some quieter streets and he seemed to enjoy it.

He Really enjoyed himself back at Grandpapa's house. Mimi and E had made it home and Uncle Jace and Grandpapa were there. Generally those characters are enough to ensure a memorable evening for P, but that night he also had a bucket of never discovered before Candy. His allergy to food coloring is pretty strong, but we told him it was his choice. He chose to try everything. Fortunately for his skin, try was the operative word. He licked and nibbled from every wrapper, but consumed very little. He wanted names and descriptions and poured over the contents of the bucket for the next three days. Granted, he had to do so sitting on his stuffed hippo, ala a hemorrhoid ring, due to intense discomfort from said food allergy, but the brightly colored parcels thrilled him. His skin is still less than thrilled, but I don't think he regrets it one bit(e) :)

Sea-horses and death.

In such a big world, with so many angles to every experience, its always fascinating to see what angle captures Phoenix's fancy. Or what tiny phrase can, literally, change him. A quiet conversation about manners, seemingly out of his earshot, enters "please" into his vocabulary. He was told he's a" tough boy" after he fell once and he will only cry now if he has just bounced his head off of a cement column (in the subway, like a ball, from running at top speed while looking backwards. Ouch.) Sunday I casually teased a lollygagging E, calling him an old man. P was instantly serious, asking "He gonna die now?" (I thought I had explained it adequately when 2 days later he cupped E's face in his hands and asked, "You really old?" )

So I took him to the aquarium Monday with the intent of celebrating life, the birth of the baby walrus. He definitely thought it was cool, but he also walked away with more death concerns. Part of the sea-horse exhibit at the aquarium includes a small conservation window showing dried sea-horses and bags of pipe fish. The message on the wall explains the problems of using sea-horses in traditional chinese medicine. P saw the window and was fixated. He demanded to know why the sea-horses had died. I reminded him that everything dies. How it die? WHY it die? Read it mama. So I read the info on the wall and he sat with that for a bit. Then he wanted to know Why someone would use it for medicine. But why kill a sea-horse to feel better? Then he wanted to know if the sea-horse had gone on to its next life. Was it there now? Who did it become?

Its times like this that I understand the lure of distraction. "Oh, honey, its a happy-wappy dead little sea horse, come see this cute wittle cowfishy!!! " But I know P can't be distracted. And even if he could, it would piss me off if I was asking E to help me figure something out and he was like, "Aww, its ok. Hey! Did you see the new Bush headline?" So I stuck with the conversation, hoping not to say anything that would confuse him even more. Then yesterday I was looking up information about motion sickness for our upcoming plane trip. P asked about it and I told him I was looking up some medicine. The look he gave me broke my heart. I couldn't fathom why he would look at me like that. We stood looking at each other for a minute (if I was to quiz him about it he would just say "nofin" so I usually wait). Then he asked "you gonna take the dead sea-horse medicine?" Fortunately, my answer was no.

You're probably wondering what sort of torture we've done to the child to wire him this way. It all started with an innocently informative book on a passion of his: sharks. There was a dead shark in the book, one of Many pictures, and it really upset P. At the time I decided a large part of the problem is the structure of society. Most kids don't see anything die these days. My parent's generation saw chickens twirled and cows slaughtered. But a kid in the US, especially a vegetarian city kid, doesn't see much death. So I started to blame myself, that we weren't raising him close enough to the earth etc. But after conversations with other moms, city and country, vegetarian, vegan and meat eaters alike, it appears that it is just P. None of them report problems with books or seeing dead pigeons in the street with their toddlers. After the sea-horse inquisition at the aquarium P was determined to show Emily (Yoav's mama) the window. I was a wee bit concerned about him traumatizing Yoav with his worries, but it wasn't a problem. Yoav wasn't interested and I was relieved when the two started chasing each other. Then I remembered that my father brought me a dried sea-horse from one of his adventures when I was a little girl. I still remember holding it, thinking it was amazing. The death part never even crossed my mind, it was just a pretty treasure.

But P doesn't see the pretty treasure angle. And his death grip goes beyond the metaphysical. He's been fascinated by biology since he turned 2. He loves talking about skeletons, blood and body parts, We were standing beside a pregnant woman on the train one day this spring. Seemingly out of nowhere he turns to me and asks, "When I in you, I in your blood?" It took me a moment to put it together, and that's how P learned about amniotic sacks and belly buttons etc. I think I learned about all of that when I was pregnant :)

So, shortly after the shark incident we saw a dead rat in Central Park. We still naively thought short and sweet was the best approach. His many questions were answered simply with, everything dies, just like the leaves in the fall -its a cycle and its all good. He had made the jump from sharks die to mama dies the week before while I was cooking dinner. But after the rat he realized he too would die. Nothing is sadder than a two year old crying "I no want to die" while you carry him through the park. And it was this realization months ago that leads to his funny pronouncements at quirky times these days. He ate something yummy the other day and told me: "I love this mama. It my favorite thing. I wish I could eat it forever and ever and ever. I eat it all, we get more. I eat That, we get more. Again and again and again, and then I die."

Monday: Baby Walrus and the Beach

There's a new baby walrus at the NY Aquarium. The papa walrus is a total ham, shoving his face against the glass and blowing bubbles for the viewers. This has enamored P with walruses in general and he was pretty psyched to see the baby and spend the afternoon at the beach.

We met his sweet buddy Yoav there and the boys explored the shark, sea horse and walrus exhibits with glee. P feels a trip to the zoo/aquarium isn't complete without a stop in the toy store for some junky safari themed car, so he surprised me this time with his choice of a walrus stuffed animal. Dubbed "Walrus," it has even inspired him to pull out his other stuffed animals for play parties today.

The sun was just warm enough to make splashing in the waves fun but not so hot that we burned. It was perfect. P Loves to run into the waves and then run back out, fake screaming, acting like they are chasing him. The boys enjoyed the simple pleasure of just digging in the sand with their toes. P also made a track for his cars and made sure sand filled every crevasse of our bag during his excavation project.

When the wind picked up and we had eaten enough sand we all headed back to the sub for short ride home. P was exhausted, but he wasn't going to give up easily, so we made Halloween decorations. Basically he just dripped glue, all of the glue, all over construction paper. Its still drying tonight, 24 hours later :) When he finally passed out, he was cradling his baby walrus.