Solstice

Spoiled by the Grandparents and Uncles this year, we gave some of their gifts on Solstice (spread out the fun!), providing P with an impressively ringed tree Sunday morning. He was timid, just as on his birthday, and wouldn't enter the room until BB was by his side.


After wandering around the room making overwhelmed noises and faces he finally settled under the tree to paw over his presents. The kid really savors it all, no thankless rushing here. He had to look at them all wrapped and talk about how pretty they looked. Then he started to open, very, very carefully, trying to preserve the paper. Eventually, overcome by his excitement, he turned to rougher removal and enjoyed the ripping sounds and falling shreds.



He spent the day happily doing experiments (yay yeast and germs!)



and demolishing i- beam towers with his new crane. The construction set really required a table for proper skyscraper building so E and I tossed one together from the old castle parts and P was in heaven. (Not to be left out, BB received presents for Solstice too. P gave him a tiny candy cane and a tiny box and told him it was the deed to the construction site. BB was now the proud owner of a crane and skyscraper parts. BB said he couldn't possibly take P's new toy, but P insisted. Unfortunately, the construction workers were uninformed and mayhem ensued requiring a pirate ship that shoots canon balls to settle the argument. All ended well - well, until BB was "accidentally" left in the demolition site... see video below.)


He also received an amazing people-powered, fully recycled exploration vehicle that thrilled him to No End. He must have burnt a zillion calories that day pushing the damn thing around to get it to talk :) Of course, little BB fit in it perfectly and joined the headlamp wearing explorers as they perused the Amazon in search of jaguars (of which BB is petrified.) We went to sleep that night with the bedroom gently lit by the jeep's headlight, charged by P's enormous energy, and surrounded by his satisfaction. New toys and a full day of play with both Mama and Papa - who can beat that?

Here's a video of the demolition. The little thing that flies off the side mid-video is BB. P thinks BB is trying to escape and sticks him back Into the falling building. Love, true love.... :)

Snoring

P woke me many, many times last night. A rarity for him these days. (I'm guessing its due to the 5 feathered dinosaur tattoos that litter his little body right now. They are basically a nicotine patch of food coloring :) Just one doesn't usually do too much to him, but five (including a really cute one on his forehead) led to a night of bedwetting and sleep talking/crawling ;)

One of the times he woke me with a "Psst. Psst! Mama! Mama, why is Papa sleeping so loud like that?"

Hehe, E rarely snores, so P isn't familiar with the sound. And then, P is always asleep when E is asleep.

Then P promptly rolled over and passed back out. I, however, was up for a bit. Laughing that hard in the middle of the night tends to do that to me :)

Holiday Trains and Marriage

P was mesmerized by the Citigroup train show last year, so we certainly weren't going to miss it this year! Our trek this time felt much more manageable sans stroller on the subway and minus the complexity of planning an outing around naptime. Four rocks :)

We went early enough in the week to miss the big crowds and slipped right into the free exhibit without a wait in line. P stood still, completely transfixed, at the start of the show.



The steady stream of viewers passed us by for a while until he realized there was so much more to see and began his forward momentum. But once we started moving amongst the other kids he felt too crowded. Then a friend of his found us and wanted to set right by P on the railing. For someone who has no sense of other's personal boundaries, the child has an Enormous need for personal space. So he skipped right past the rest of the exhibit, hurrying to the Very End where he planted himself beside the final wall of the snowy scape. For an Hour.

Our view...for an Hour:


He felt safe there and could let his imagination roam without worrying about people bumping into him or the pressure to "keep the line moving," mid-imagine. So he squished against the wall, pulled me to his other side, effectively blockading himself in, and just melted into the train world.

Imaginary BB (who does more and more these days) would be forced onto various trains that would then travel out of our sight to different parts of the exhibit. P would laugh maliciously as BB worried he'd never make it back to us. P eventually picked his favorite train (the biggest one) and decided to hop on it. The first time it rode away from our squat he requested I ride too. The next time he was ok with just BB going along and by the time we left he was riding (granted, in his mind alone) the silver bullet train all by himself.

Except that there was a problem. He noticed that "his" train's pattern became irregular. This vexed him greatly. My mind, working much differently than his, thought such chaos was probably normal;) He insured me it was not and preceded to stress about the situation (as he was supposedly on the train that had disappeared and not yet returned as steadily as he planned.) Eventually, the train came - but then sat still at the green light in front of us for Forever. Then it went around - but ran a red light. All of this was Very Important to P :)

So it was with great relief that one of the "conductors" came past us with a flashlight, inspecting the tiny track. P insisted I ask the man if all was well with the silver bullet line. Apparently, irregularity amongst train shows is Not normal ;) and there was a short on P's fave track.

Reassured that he wasn't crazy, P relaxed that his train would reappear when ready and enjoyed BB's imaginary ride on another train line. Once the silver bullet made a final loop past us his buddy coaxed him away from the show with toy trains he had brought in his bag, creating an unusually smooth transition for us.

After a picnic lunch in Barnes and Noble we surfed the crowds on scooter to Rockefeller Center. I had hoped it was early enough to miss the masses, but no such luck. By the time we rounded the corner to the tree, P was growling at the crowds, pissed to all hell that there were so many people In His Way :) Had it been a block further the little man may not have held up, but all of the shiny lights and immensity of the tree melted his angry little heart and left him gawking alongside the irritating tourists :) But as we neared the tree you could see his need to Get Away rise quickly. There were just too many people for him, so we squeezed up a flight of stairs to some fresh air and he enjoyed the tree from his (more) solitary vantage point. His little friend, however, wanted to sit right beside him, possibly even hug, and I thought P might fling the poor child down the stairway when the eager youth saddled up next to a pushy P.

I suggested we peer into the skating rink to avoid a scuffle and P jumped at the idea. As we watched a group of skaters leave the ice to make way for the next onslaught of freezing, teetering tourists, one guy got down on his knee, in the middle of the rink, and pulled out a ring. The cumulative "aww" from the crowd cued P that something special was happening and he studied the skaters closely. It was surprisingly touching (and voyeuristic) to view, and provided P with plenty of questions. But the questions, for the most part, would have to wait until that night. A zamboni entered the ice and stole the show for the preschool set. Its slow, serpentine path of smoothness left P hopping, yet speechless.



As we brushed our teeth that night P asked when we could go to the train show again. Then he asked when we could go ice skating. Then he asked if that was how Papa and I got married. Then he asked again when we could go ice skating. Then he asked if I thought it was nice, someone asking someone to marry them while ice skating. Oh, sure, what did he think? He said yes, he liked it a lot. Then he told me when we go ice skating, that's how he's going to ask me to marry him :)

Ridiculous

Every month or so P gets a new word that we secretly hope he'll never learn how to properly pronounce because of the
unbelievable adorability when mis-pronounced. E's running fave for a long time has been "restaurant." We're careful to only wax poetic After P's asleep since he's sooo sensitive to external judgements, but I can catch E grin each time its said :)

My new favorite is "ridiculous." P apparently Loves this word, as he uses it numerous times a day, adorably chewing it out each time. It seems like such a chore to say that I occasionally wonder if he will choke on the damn word... and then the second part pops out :) Typing it will butcher it more than the four year old's mouth, but for the sake of posterity.... it goes something like "That's Reee- DIC-Qwui-Wus!"

Holiday Cookies and Beets

We've been making holiday cookies for friends and family (that includes ourselves, of course :) P loves the sifting and measuring part and due to his numerous baking adventures casually tosses fractions into most of his conversations lately. "We'll go to 22 and a 1/2. Ok mama?" Or "That's Nine, fourty-four and a third please." Not a lot of comprehension yet, but some osmosis nonetheless...

So he decided that adding crushed candy canes to the cookies would be Fabulous, peppermint addict that he is. I don't know if he's enjoyed the flavor of the cookies or the massive amounts of hammering they require more :) But after crunching up a bunch of canes for cookies he turned to me and asked if the peppermint sticks were healthy or not.
Me: Well, um... they aren't "bad" for you, really. Unless you think sugar is bad for you, which some people do and some people don't.... But they aren't really growing food, like peas or carrots, either.
P: Mama. But Mama. They Are!! They are good for you!
Me: Oh!
P: Yes. Beets are good growing food and the red coloring is beet juice, so they have beet juice - they're growing food!

Well, how can you argue with that logic?! Thankfully he alternates between roasted beets and candy canes pretty naturally...

Sub rider

Just a quickie for tonight (I'm still making up for last month's hiatus...) We had a great adventure yesterday (alas, another post, I must sleep!) and en route I snapped a pic of P waiting for the F. It just hit me then that there's no pictorial evidence of P and his normal mode of transport (other than the scooter:).

He simultaneously adores and detests the subway. He's Very (Very!!!) nervous lately that we will get separated boarding the train (the detests part) but greatly enjoys my lap (vs the car seat) and reading books/picnic-ing together (the adores part:). But his favorite part is... the smell. I kid you not. As we walk down the entrance stairs at our stop and the first whiff of musty underground reaches his schoz he always sighs and says "I luuuuv the smell of the subway. Mama, don't you love it?"

Oh Christmas Tree

After hearing some Christmas stories while in Kansas, P decided that this whole tree, presents, North Pole bit sounded pretty cool. And so while I wiled the day away with my mother during her northern visit, P and Papa bought themselves a tree. P picked out tinsel, candy canes and colored balls to decorate it. Then they brought it home, decorated it and randomly stuck it on an upside down box for height. Beside the wall.

Have you read my dollhouse post yet? The one where I mention feng shui and dizziness? Well, you can imagine what plastic tinsel and an upside down box did to me :) The sheer joy in my child's eyes was the only thing that saved this visual disturbance that day :) But my mother, sweetly intuiting my silly hang-up helped me out.

Phoenix has learned that Grams is his go-to-girl. If he really wants something, Gramsie-grams is his man. So he gave her his list of what his tree still needed and my mother did her best to honor P's desires and mine all in one fell swoop. When she got back to Kansas she boxed up her crystal garland (knowing P's love of bling would trump his need for tinsel any day), some silver bells (ala Polar Express) and glass dew drops. Ahhh, the shininess of it all beckoned to P just as the monochromatic simpleness of it calmed my twisting nerves. The candy canes gradually fell off and broke, the tinsel was traded for the lovely "diamonds" and we moved the tree to a new, non-box perch where it could reflect in the window. P climbed his ladder to finish adding his bling and, just like that, everyone was happy.

Once his tree was in place, P whispered to me (signaling this an Important Idea), "Mama, do you think there will be a present under it Christmas morning?" And just as I felt myself grow for the better when I bought that damn roll of wrapping paper for his birthday (I did simultaneously hear the Earth groan though..) I was actually able to be excited for him when I whispered back "Oh, I think so P, what do you think?"

Snow!

P and I were busy in the kitchen the other day when something moving out the window caught my eye. Being on the third floor, not much moves outside our windows, so I looked over and saw.... Snow!!! P was so excited (is any phrase spoken more often on this blog?) he jumped down and immediately ran out the door yelling, "Let's go, Mama!"

I was sick and had planned to hunker inside all day, but sheesh! You just can't miss the first snow of the year! We bundled on our way downstairs and P thrust BB outside, proudly introducing him to the wannabe winterwonderland. "Snow, BB, snow!!!"

Our brief foray on the stoop soon became a walk to the woods, then a skip to the playground... and then an hour of fabulous fun amidst the white stuff. Poor BB didn't fare so well though. Having nothing else to collect snow with (natural collector that P is, just seeing something isn't enough, he has to bring part of it home each time) he started piling it on BB's tummy till the poor little doll was a soppy, yet frozen, mess. I had to set BB down to push P on the swings (ya know, the things he never goes on cuz there's usually other kids there? Well, it was completely Vacant due to the nasty weather, so, understandably, P wanted to spend the rest of the day there!) and the sight of that poor little doll, ignored under balls of snow, growing more covered every minute, just about broke my heart. And then it hit me, P's attachment is really rubbing off on me :)

So P enjoyed the swings and the ground and the sky and then realized the slides were there too. He zoomed down all of them, stacking snow on the ends and blasting through it into my arms. Until, that is, his butt was Frozen. It was just warm enough out that the snow was still melt-ish against a warm tush, making it seriously soaked. As we walked home, adding bits of snow to BB's tummy as we went, P desperately tried to figure out how we could get BB's snow up the stairs and into our house without any of it melting...

Play doh Puff

P and I made a new batch of peppermint play-doh this week and it is Divine. Its a recipe from a friend and it is Amazing, really. (Just in case you are in the market for some new squishy, here's the link:http://www.montgomeryschoolsmd.org/curriculum/PEP/playdo.htm

It was like butter (but in a good way:) and P was jazzed to realize his specific goals: a snowman and a santa. But he soon decided the green doh really should be a Puff, and thus it became. Then, of course, little BB had to have a ride. Then a party with Puff, the iron fairy, the snowman and some creepy worms.

This was days ago and he has since played with it a number of times. Making pies, cakes and most of all cutting it with every possibility our leatherman has to offer :) As for Puff, well, he is Still drying on our radiator so that BB will have a(nother) permanent friend.

BB's vacation home

My prized possession when I was a kid was my doll house. My brothers wired it with working lights, my mom recovered walls and furniture to suit my needs and I redecorated the thing on a daily basis. Even to this day, if I can't sleep, I either write in my head or... rearrange furniture. I know, it sounds fabulously trite, but its my personal version of mental Tetris, visualizing each object in a room and trying them in new spaces until the feng shui is Just Right. My house, already fallen victim to my ridiculously sensitive eye (ill arranged houses Literally make me dizzy. I do not kid you. Physically Dizzy. Yes, I understand I have issues:) so chances are I've rearranged yours (no matter how fabulously done it is, its a compulsion, really) on some long, insomniac-laden night....

So it was with great fanfare that P and I discovered hidden levels to my old treasure in the basement this visit. He squealed with joy as we carried it upstairs, along with a box of furniture dying to train another child's spatial preferences. He requested I do a room or two and I was happy to comply while he finished off the house. He is four, and male, and I almost laughed out loud when I looked at his decorative choices. All of the pieces were lined up right at the entry edges of each room. Why reach all the way back into the house when the chairs can sit right here, easy-peasy? So what if they block doorways, cut off traffic flow or make no spacial sense? All of the red chairs were together, the bathroom stuff together, the kitchen stuff together. They were categorized and therefore logically placed :) Then, with immense drama, BB was driven to his New Home. There was such delight in P's voice, showing BB what he had for him. Each day I think the kid couldn't love that monster any more and then he goes and sets him up with a vacation home in the south. Awwwww.

Grown Up

We had our coop shift this afternoon (NOT the little man's favorite thing. We've talked and talked about it, the options (babysitter, papa, a different shift), all of the variables, and he insists on coming with me and not liking it :) He did his usual
ignoring of all peers for the entire shift. Then, about 15 minutes before our departure a 7 year old boy arrived. P's attention immediately became divided between the book we were reading and the activities of the boy. One of the younger kids could have choked to death and he wouldn't have looked up from his book, but now, well, now things were different. I offered to take a reading break. "No thanks mama." So we read for another page while he watched and then I cleverly excused myself to tidy the nursery :) He circled the boy. Handed him cars. And finally asked the kid if he'd like to race. So off they set, running, then frog hopping, then clam climbing and then car riding. He was laughing and whooping and looked at me and yelled "this is FUN!" This trend is so steady for P. So my new goal is to find him an older playmate that will somehow enjoy a much younger companion.

On the way home he chatted about what "seven" means, with lots of age related questions. As we slowed the scooter for a light he looked up and whispered (as all Very Important Communications are communicated lately) "But Mama, I already FEEl like a grown-up.... I do."

Schultz Extravaganza

So, the Schultz family, once assembled, does not let loose of one another easily:) Thanksgiving is so much more than piled plates. They go to movies en masse, have late night poker matches and even have annual volleyball and bowling matches against a rival family. Its a hoot and my mother often quips she wished they'd adopt her:)

We'll wait on the R rated movies and midnight poker for P, but he was game to watch the volleyball this year. Mimi got out some great gym toys and P merrily rolled along. Jace, the ever awesome Uncle got in on the fun.



E played alongside his siblings and P quickly clapped when he saw me cheer. It was pretty cute. I sidled up beside E after the game and expressed my awe at his dives - he'd really sacrificed himself for the game! P was skipping along, seemingly paying no attention yet 3 weeks later when we were playing catch and he dramatically dove for the ball he came up grinning "I sacrificed myself for that catch!" Oh those supersonic bat ears!!!

The crew moves onto bowling after the gym. This was P's first time and he was pretty psyched. These lanes had a kid's section complete with electronically raised bumpers, effectively allowing him to beat me... It was really cute to watch him bowl. He'd toss his ball with all his might and then stand and watch it move down the lane. I tend to roll and run, heaven forbid I watch my horribleness :) Then I realized that he too started walking away after his ball left his hands. D'oh! Could have been he was becoming bored with the game... or Mama better mentor better!



After the game his Aunt gave him some love filled tickles. The face she is making is so Schultz - the ecstasy of the friendly torture :) I imagine Chris and Jordan were pretending not to know us :)




He is so focused in the video below. His little Tevye dance when someone whoops for him kills me :)

The violinist

P's dream came true this Thanksgiving... he got the tiny Schultz violin that all of the Schultz kids played when they were just tots. He listened carefully to some pointers and set to serenading. Papa got his out too and then P changed his tune. He told me Papa's was "gooder." I told him I thought both he And Papa played beautifully. "No, Mama. Papa's sounds gooder, mine only squeaks." And really, nobody could argue with the kid, the tiny violin's sound just couldn't compete with the full sized version:) Ever the perfectionist, and wanting his to sound Amazing from the get go, he later bowed on Papa's as E created songs.

He did happily squeak on his for the rest of our trip though, mostly when no one was listening. My mom, however, had a real treat. She said he stood on her bed, singing Puff the Magic Dragon while happily bowing in rhythm. That's a performance I would have paid any price to see!

Happy Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving day, holidays in general really, can be a bit overwhelming for P. Or those that love him :) His want for constant interaction teamed with family member's excitement to finally play with the little guy combine into a swirling frenzy for P. He gets so amped up by the attention and tossing that he couldn't possibly think of Ever Stopping. Unreachable by the logic that usually keeps his energy in check he gets a bit punchy ;)

So this year we planned on putting the play off for a bit for the sake of everyone's stamina. A dinosaur dig kit was the perfect distraction, giving him something to bang on and the skeleton he has long desired. Some say Grandpapa enjoyed it even more than P...

After he finished his focused play he was ready to rumble and Grandpapa complied with fervor.



P worked his way through everyone's energy, ending with the two youngest, Jace and Ian. They have an amazing capacity to keep up with the kid! Jace was the villain with the pillow eating shark, Ian the hero who saved P.




P could have stayed there all evening, but we still had one more family dinner to go! But the child was spent, seriously stretched beyond reason and merely bounced off of the walls at my folk's house. Ah, well, a child can only take so much fun in one day!


P commands Grandpapa to torture him:

The Chisolm Trail

The return drive from Lawrence goes through the beautiful Flint HIlls, a brief break from the state's characteristic flatness. Its really lovely. And P grew really excited, saying he just Knew we were going back to Colorado.
Me: Yeah? Would you like it if we were heading to Colorado?
P: Mama! No. Mama. We ARE heading to Colorado, I just know it. We Are.
Me: You want to go back to Colorado sometime?
P: Mama! We're going right now! I think I saw the mountains in the distance. We're really going! We are! .... are we really going to Colorado, Mama?
Me: What do you want to do when we get there?
P: Hike!!! Are we really going to Colorado, Mama?

(This is typical P conversation. If I say something he doesn't agree with he tells me the way he wants it to be. I validate that he wants something. He tells me it just IS, he doesn't Want it, it really IS! Then, after reassuring me of the real truth, me nodding all the while along with his reality, he asks me if his reality is really true, or not :)

The kid has been talking about our time in Colorado regularly since last summer. Hike this, hike that. E and I've even talked about moving somewhere more rural to have more hiking (anyone know of somewhere rural with subways that has a NYC vibe? :) So the following weekend we hit the Chisolm trail in Wichita for some hiking. P was in heaven, skipping down paths, wanting to explore every deer trail he saw. As we finally headed to the car he spied an old combine, rusting in the fields.



Oooo, could there be anything cooler on earth? It had been enough of a challenge heading to the trailhead before, now, with the combine, well, forgettaboutit. He climbed and poked and pulled and asked a zillion questions. As the closing time neared we employed one of P's new favorite games to exit peacefully: kissing races. We pick a point and the first person to it gets a kiss. Having required carrying for the end of our hike, P had a sudden burst of new energy and happily skipped ahead to secure his kisses :)

Lawrence- ho

The following weekend we visited Ella and Reed in Lawrence. We had a blast on their tire swing, ate pizza and played with Reed's cool train set. P realized the trains were the perfect size for little BB only to find.... we had forgotten little BB at Grams' house. Big BB was no help, the child, short on sleep and out of his element, was devastated. I suggested a paper one (our typical backup plan for missing BBBs) but no dice. He needed a little BB that was "fluffy." Some crayons, glue and a cotton ball later the new little BB was happily riding to the train station.

Hold onto your hats people...

Ella and Reed came to visit us one weekend in Wichita. P treated them to a wild ride on Gramps' mule (he thought it unbelievably funny to do 360's while everyone squeeled and the adults attempted to keep down lunch).

The Parachute

I have an old adventure people parachute from my childhood. It provided endless hours of fun for my brother and I. Cash even broke his leg using it. So, of course, I had to show it to P. BB fit it perfectly...

Just Sew It!

P thinks of new things he would like to have, um, daily :) So he's come up with some fairly creative ways to get what he desires, many of them include me broadening my unbelievably scanty sewing knowledge (I'm currently working on a huge squid featuring a mouth to eat BB. Um, yah.) We outfitted him with his own little sewing kit to while away the time as I create. No, it didn't really work:) He prefers driving cars over my body, chatting with BB the entire time. But he enjoys his kit occasionally anyway...

Mr. Active Alert

The Parenting Pit is a fabulous website authored by an Aussie (named Arun) who stayed with us this October. I'd loved/appreciated his humor filled unschooling wisdom many a read, but (obviously) never met the guy... until he came to NY! P Adored him, his sweet gifts, thoughtful ways and respectful responses. It was a life expanding visit and we were happy we took the plunge and opened our couch to him and his kind soul.

One night, Arun and I sat up chatting into the wee hours. At one point he called E's and mine parenting experience "pretty intense." I've thought a lot about that conversation over the past month... That conversation and realization led me to a book that led me to peace :)

Many of the mums I'm friends with here co-sleep, homeschool/unschool, skip the babysitter deal (kids aren't interested) and forgo videos as a babysitter too. The typical crutches our society uses to get by since we're sorrowfully lacking in tribal culture. This alone could warrant "intense parenting" labels from some (that's one of the nicer labels, for sure:). E and I have always assumed our harried heads were due to our parenting choices and particular personalities. But our visitor wasn't referring to the lovely life that comes from spending a slower, more contact laden day with your kid. He was speaking about the contact required by P in particular. What? Someone else thought it was "more?" Because E and I've felt that way for four years - but just figured we were wusses :)

I mean people have vaguely pointed out differences, sure. My mom has sweetly wondered aloud about his, um, excessive movement. Extended family often remark on his Energy and Alertness. (But were you to ask most mums up here about P (unless they've spent quite a bit of time with him), their descriptions vs my parent's would paint a Jekyl and Hyde portrait. He's quietly angelic in most groups and any new situations. Gravitates to my lap, rarely speaks and looks the perfect part of innocence. At least for the first few Hours -but I've mentioned his "hard to transition" ways before. Turns out, this dual persona is normal for an active alert child...)

But I think what our visitor was referring to in particular was the constancy. The need. The requests. The energy. I am Not going to bitch about my wonderful child on a blog dedicated to honoring him, so I don't mean any of these words as negatives. They are just truths. And they are truths that have, honestly, drained E and I for the last four years. We have thought ourselves enormous pussies. Slackers. Obviously less strong than our parents who had 11 kids between the two families. Cuz, at the end of the day, one is just plain ol' kickin' our ass.

I usually avoid any inclination of "woe is us" here, for want of sounding, of course, fabulous. Who wants to sound like a whiner? But I'm coming clean tonight. I can say quite honestly that from the moment he wakes me until the time he goes to bed at night I have about 5-10 minutes of alone time in my head each day. Some days, (the ones that feel lucky to this artist that used to stand at a wall, alone, for 10 hours a day, perfectly content in the silence), may find a combined 30 minutes over the course of the day, but this is very rare. I pee alone about once a week :)

Now I can hear the critics in my (spacious, after bed:) head as I type. Just tell him its "quiet time" once or twice a day. Hah. P and I've had chats about my head needing some space. Quite frankly, he takes it as a lover who has been told they are no longer wanted. He would happily spend every waking (and sleeping) second with me and it breaks his heart that I would feel any differently. And for a child that feels things sooo deeply and so heavily (and can't fathom why Mama would want to be away from him (because that's all me being alone is to him) it is too much, too heavy of a load for me to lay at his little, non-understanding feet. I'd choose busy over guilt any day, and so it goes :)

So after a typical morning in our house (I started to describe it in this post and it was too embarrassing, too unbelievable for all of its honesty. Mornings are difficult for P, transitioning back into the world, out of bed, into the day. Add in my need to quickly cook less he melt from hunger, combined with his hatred at letting loose of me as a playmate after fasting from play all night, and its a daily dance of drama!) But I digress... The typical morning was followed by me accidentally piercing the back of my freezer (yah, the monthly defrost went awry there!) and we ended up with the landlords in our house before we were even dressed. And I looked around at the laughable state of my morning. The house starts clean each day, I swear. Its my evening ritual. E reads P books, I tidy and clean to help meet the next day. But standing amidst the smell of compressor fluid and freon soaked towels covered in "icebergs", you would never have guessed this fact. It looked like a house filled with 7 children. And I swear, I felt like I'd had seven different kids pulling at me all morning too. And I, once again, wondered, how the hell did our parents do it???

The typical worries follow this sort of embarrassing moment. What have I done to create such a need filled, high energy, child? There was that one time that xyz, or perhaps when he was little and I (fill in the blank). I go round and round with a chicken and egg scenario. Is he so in need of attention and interaction because I always gave him attention, or... Then I smack my head and remember, oh yeah, I always gave him attention because he's requested it since he was born. Is he so high energy because of the way we play with him? But we follow his lead... Is he so against groups because I've pushed the issue? And on and on I go... when my head has the space to go, that is;)

But tonight I feel reborn in peace. Seriously. I recently read about a little book called "The Active Alert Child." I'm not one for labeling kids really, but there's a lot of helpful resources out there with labels on them, so I decided to give this one a try the other day. And holey schmoley, the book is about my kid. Every quote from every example in the first chapter has occurred in our house. It was amazing to actually recognize my kid in a book instead of constantly thinking, um, no, that's not us... I won't try to summarize in this already lengthy post, but its nice to finally feel like we're not crazy. We can stop glancing at each other with the "people have more than One of these?!" expressions. We can stop wondering why the parenting books we've read seem mostly ludicrous when applied to our child. I can quit the "is my child really a bit "more" or am I just a huge wuss" dance. I've tried so hard to love my child as he is, not to judge, manipulate or mold him to an ideal I have about what a child "should" be. To honor him, for who he is. To let Phoenix be truly Phoenix. And yet there has been this gnawing worry that he was slightly different, and it was All My Fault. Inherently different I can handle, hell, I love truly different :) But actively or accidentally screwing my kid up, not so much:) Apparently, according to this book, I have not inadvertently messed him up (not that there aren't plenty of ripe opportunities just ahead for me to do so ;) He is one of many Active Alert kids, perfectly normal, if not slightly different than the Hollywood stereotype of normal I expected to birth. So I look forward to meeting him tomorrow morning, in our dark, white noise filled sensory deprivation chamber, er, bedroom, knowing he is just who he is, a perfectly quirky boy who naturally needs me constantly around and just has to climb door jambs. Long story short, if you really want to understand P, forget the fucking blog and go get this book ;)

Gramps, Mules and Fire

In addition to his Gramsie-Grams, Kansas also holds Gramps and a mini-John Deere. And this time, Fire, another fave of Phoenix. One day, soon after our arrival, all of this fabulousness came together and P was just in Heaven.

Deciding to join Gramps at the much storied burn pile, P was keen on driving his little mule, just as Gramps had done. So my mom and I followed him as he slowly steered past the ponds to the cement bridge. He was pretty disappointed his machine couldn't brave the creek, but the burning bushes and bobcat tractor on the far side of the bridge provided a natural distraction :)



He was soooo stoked to see such a big fire.


We went with Gramps to gather more fallen branches. P pitched right in.



Back at the burn pile P happily tossed sticks for the rest of the afternoon. He'd have probably stayed out there all night had I not been so hungry :)



As we headed home he discovered his little engine had trouble with the steep incline. No problem - Gramps was happy to help. (P received the bumps with mixed emotions, turning to worriedly watch behind himself, thankful for the help but hoping his little mule could take the abuse :)



After this enjoyable afternoon Papa and P lit a few smaller bonfires after dark. They'd gather wood, Papa being immensely manly and cutting it with a hand saw, and then go through their routine of fire making. Then they'd tell stories about BB and roast the special food-coloring free marshmallows Gramsie-Grams found for Phoenix. And best of all, at the end of the evening P would reek so horribly of smoke that he'd happily hop in the bath and even Wash His Hair. That was worth a million bonfires right there!

Gramsie-Grams

We've just returned from a lovely, family filled visit to Kansas. P was sooo looking forward to this trip, as he really wanted to run over little BB with his Kansas combine (we created BBB after our last visit home). Little BB was taunted for days before we left, "BB, I'm going to mow you up!" Phoenix could barely contain his anticipation, lapsing in his "when will we get to my combine" queries only long enough to ask "when will Grams play with me?"

I lucidly remember that the defiant responses I was prone to in childhood met with steely glares and try that again dares. But P's self assured stances just receive heady laughter from his loving Grams. She thinks he's the funniest little thing on earth. Ahhh, the beauty of having grandchildren. But, typically, this laissez faire handling of autonomous offspring can only be maintained because said children Leave at the end of the day. Not us! My folks are stuck with us for the whooooole month. So E and I were truly touched that for our entire stay my mom's funny bone was tickled rather than ticked off.

P felt a Lot more independent this trip. And his independence worried me much less than in the past; a fabulous combo for both of us. Long gone are the days that he'd patter off and pop someone's pills, get lost in the huge house, wander aimlessly towards the pool or touch every breakable he could reach. (We're loving FOUR, and how much he Gets. I mean, shiny objects are still really, really appealing, but he'll chat with me first about his approach. And gawd only knows we've done enough pretend play with BB taking someone else's pills that that particular drama won't be re-enacted in real life!) So, feeling his freedom and fine with the absence of my worried shadow he wandered the house stalking my mother every chance he got.

(True to his genetic predisposition, pet names have come naturally to P. E is lovingly called "Papi," I'm occasionally "Mamo," and Grams has morphed into "Gramsie-Grams." Gramsie-grams-grams when he's hatched a plan :) And hatch he did. On a daily basis. He innately knew my mother is his sucker and would tell her his bidding. Mama is washing dishes, well then, Grams will get me my chocolate milk. I want some brownies, well then, I'll tell Grams to make some for me. Yes indeedy, the kid made himself at home.)

When she wasn't beings stalked or running errands for the little man, he would request a game or a book. His particular favorite this visit was a mechanical fishing game. The first time he played it he sat for Two Hours straight, fishing. He invited BB to fish too, giggling as he grabbed BB's fish, only to kiss the monster and give the fish back. Then he got Grams going on it. Apparently, Grams hadn't had the afternoon to practice and was having a harder time hooking something. She asked P his advice, saying he really knew how to get those fish. He fixed her with his eyes and said "Focus, Grams." She laughed on that one for the rest of the month.

So it was fortunate for us that Grams and Gramps had business in the Big Apple the same week we returned home. P was Not ready to let loose of his Gramsie. He understood the timeline, I told him they would be here for a few days before we saw them and then Grams could play again. As our taxi whizzed past the city's skyline from the airport P asked where exactly Grams was right then. We pointed out an approximate landmark and carried on home. That night, as we lay down to sleep P wistfully asked, "Grams knows we have a couch that turns into a bed? " Yes, I said, you told her. "Why she not sleep here then Mama?"

When Grams did arrive in Brooklyn, P practically pulled her arm off leading her around his house, the tree he and Papa bought, the pirate ship, the couch that turns into a bed, hint hint. At the end of the day, as she kissed him goodbye, he reminded her, again, about the couch, saying she didn't have to go, she could just live with us :) Personally, I'm hoping the kid gets to her... there's an open apartment just beneath us if the couch sounds too small....