Magic Dust

E had to work this weekend so P and I accompanied him to the city each day in an attempt to get some time with Papa. We could chat on the subway and then meet for lunch. It was a great solution to a sorry situation (P's started missing E quite a bit lately) and we found lots of fun in the kids section at the Strand (a fantastic used book store by E's office).

After being out all weekend it was hermit time (and laundry time!) for us. We followed our usual Monday rhythm of play and homemaking. Today consisted of P building a space ship out of our furniture, Baby Brother played the evil stepmother to Baby Behu's Cinderella, Bat Mac acted as an evil vulture chasing after BB, Beek Mok starred as an evil Medusa that monster-napped Baby Brother and P was generally the hero with sword. That's his solution for everything lately. Medusa won't give up BB and P tells her "hey, I have a sword." Oh, well, Baby Behu also played the part of policeman with P happily putting characters in jail with a "you need to be Nice!" When I mentioned jail might not be the best place to study niceness he said we'd show them how and then released them to his house for studies. :)

As the clean laundry piled up and my voice tired of Medusa and vulture talk, we took a break to make bread. Then P realized he hadn't played with flour in a Long Time! He was desperate to remedy this oversight despite the recent vacuum job. We chatted about our comfort levels and agreed on an approach. Out came the flour and quiet finally overtook our house. After checking in a couple of times and realizing that he Really was trying to keep the flour on the table I retired to the other room to fold clothes. He called me back in a bit later and I noticed a Lot of flour Off of the table. But not in the usual, whoops, that slipped off the table sort of way. I told him it looked like he was experimenting, what was the angle? He loaded a spoon with flour and let it fly. Wry grin and a long whisper. He was quite obviously working on something rather than just feeling ornery, but I wasn't sure how long I wanted this experiment to last. After a few more flings I could make out his mumblings. "Bibbity bobbity boo!" Ahhh! You're working on magical dust, eh? He was excited that I understood. He gets strangely embarrassed about copying something he's seen, almost concerned that he isn't doing it just right, leaving us guessing as a test that his act is identifiable, recognizable, just right. I suggested we Bobbity Boo in the woods lest we share our home with meal moths and he was so thrilled he slid his coat and boots right on.

BB played the part of Cinderella and P was the fairy godmother. He tried flicking the flour with a stick (aka wand) but was disappointed with the results. We returned to the house for more flour and a spoon and that produced the desired dust back in the woods. We also romped in the leaves and "walked the plank" on fallen trees. Then P discovered the joy that is mudballs. He pummeled BB with them and then turned them on me. The earlier experimental energy had morphed into all out nappless craziness and we headed home for a head to toe bath (a P rarity). Poor little Baby Brother. He'd stayed clean from His last bathing for a whole 3 days :)

P, on the other had, was bathing for the second time today. Seemingly still feeling the ornery vibe, he was using his squeezable frog to shoot water up and out of the bath. Fortunately for both of us, I had the mop out anyway from all of the flour :) So he repeated his little test over and over until he proclaimed :" When the water goes up, it comes back down!" "Uh, uhuh" I replied, feeling slightly grouchy holding my mop. "Can you make sure it comes back down Inside the tub please?" "No, mama, look!" he urged. "I shoot it up and it comes back down! I make it go up, but it Comes Back Down!" Then it hit me. He was having his Newton moment. It wasn't orneriness at all - it was discovery. In our clean little cubicle lives the one can often feel like the other for the cleaner, but for the mess-maker its all just living and learning.

The kid ain't claustrophobic

Right after breakfast P asked me to get the cat carrier off of the top shelf of the storage shelf in the hall. Wha? P thought it would be fun to send BB on a flight, but Under the plane instead of with us. (We do a Lot of fake flying here at Chez Schulton) He merrily shoved Baby Brother in and then teased him relentlessly. It only took a moment or two until he decided BB seemed to have it pretty good in there and climbed in himself. He wanted me to carry the two, caged, and check them with the luggage. They were then pulled around (aka, rode on the conveyor belt) and loaded on the plane. I then began washing breakfast dishes, assuming there would be a yelp for quick release. All of the dishes later, P was still crouched in the cat carrier chatting (through me) with BB.

P.S. If you've noticed some new hairstyles for P in the pics its because he wants to grow his hair out, long. I've mentioned he could see better with a little trim, but he's not interested, he wants it Long :) Ahhh, so there is still a little hope for a hippie here:)

Hard Boiled Baby Brother

P's a fan of hard boiled eggs. When we cooked some the other day he decided to hard boil Baby Brother too. Of course, Baby Brother protested, making the scenario only more enjoyable for P. BB then had to be peeled, but with the carrot peeler. This quickly evolved into making BB into a chocolate chip Baby Brother cookie. Then he had to be cooked. Then flipped with the spatula. Then he became Baby Brother Goulash which required lots of stirring, mashing and ladling. This looked too fun to P, so he had to join BB in the pot.

More Moma

P's prolific painting spells inspired an order from a discount school supply. When all of the groovy new colors and bottles arrived he was jazzed into another paintathon.

Hunting Monsters with Malek

We hunted monsters with Malek last week. This consists of gathering sticks as we go, swinging them around while questioning, where, oh where, could that monster be hiding and acting surprised at shadows or other park-goers. Meanwhile, Baby Brother squeals a bit in fear amidst all of the fake growls. P and I do this on a fairly regular basis; whenever the late afternoon draaaags from the absence of a nap, the existence of 4 sturdy walls and the non-existence of warm weather. Malek got into it right away, but then again, he was a pro growler and pretender before we even began the expedition. The boys hunted all over the park, past waterfalls and rock walls, and even past a small "forest fire."

Bronx Zoo

Somehow this post was lost.... Right before we went to Florida we visited the Bronx zoo with some playgroop pals (the twins Dez and Nini) and one of their friends. The Bug Carousel was a huge hit and we were repeat riders many, many times. After that, P said he was ready to go home, he desperately wanted to play with his toy bugs. Leslie had graciously given us a ride to the far flung location and I was still too carsick to consider pursuing the hour and a half train ride home, so P said he would wait a bit. Towards the end of our stay we visited the World of Darkness exhibit which, of course, scared Baby Brother. Which, of course, thrilled Phoenix. Renewed by his laughter and finally starting to settle in to his new location, P played with the other kids instead of huddling in his stroller. Leslie had to laugh that P finally found his groove right at closing time - a common phenomena for him at her house for playgroop too. He was sad to leave, but the thought of his toy bugs crawling on BB helped the return transition :)

Dread Pirate Phoenix

His long road to a gun toting, Republican, corporate lawyer has begun :) Just as I'm sure my parents scratch their heads in wonder at me, Phoenix's fake-fighting fascination makes me chuckle. He recently found the patch from my eye surgery and, per his recent fascination with all things costume, he merrily wore it while swinging his "sword" (our knife sharpener). Typically, in Baby Brother's direction. Occasionally he'd stab BB and quip the constant "that Hurt?"

He was cranking out some impressive ninja moves so I grabbed my camera - just a little too late. The below video lacks all of the high kicks and fancy moves he was previously sporting, but it does capture his snarl face :)

Florida Finale

Since Phoenix hates being cold almost as much as he hates heavy winter clothing, we've been fresh-air-free for months. Florida was the perfect remedy. P was particularly pleased that he could choose to exit the house (through the doggy door) whenever he wanted rather than being separated from freedom by 3 locked doors and a couple flights of stairs.

One day he grabbed Woody (from Disney) and BB and plopped them in a stroller we had borrowed. He pulled his princess hat down to block the sun and traipsed off towards a shady spot (video below). The shady trees we climbed had all manner of bugs and he was extremely tempted to squash them - asking if that was ok. "Just one bug? It ok mama. It can just go on to its next life." This from the kid who had been upset his grandparents were eating meat for dinner the night before :) Then we built a lean-to for Baby Brother, chaffing him that he would spend the night down by the alligators. (In addition to taunting BB, sticks are a sure thing. The 6 year old that lives below us has a stick collection by the stoop that would rival some of my father's burn piles and P is apparently inspired.)

We also spent time looking for alligators in the ranch's ponds. My mother drove us around and teased us about getting too close just as we teased BB about being eaten. Trackers we are not, so we eventually just enjoyed the birds, the air ("it phmells good mama"), and our pistachios (that P is slightly allergic to but was determined to eat nonetheless.)

Disney World

I have distinct memories of visiting Disney World when I was 3. It was so magical. Some thirty years later my take on the Magic Kingdom is, less simple, to say the very least.

P has had little Disney exposure so far. His grandparents introduced him to the joy that is Buzz Lightyear. And during the blight that was February we all watched Peter Pan to quench his recent thirst for swords and pirates. We also saw a (non-Disney) Cinderella production at the local marionette theater. P Adored it. Cinderella entered our play-world, and fueled by our Cinderella record, she hasn't left since. (My personal favorite so far is Phoenix deciding to buy her a dishwasher so her stepmother would lay off :) We also have a Sleeping Beauty record set to Tchaikovsky and a Snow White record, both of which get play time. But Cinderella, oh boy, she and P are Tight.

So I struggled with the decision. Should I take a kid who doesn't have a clue about Micki Mouse to the Magic Kingdom? A life size castle, dancing bears, twirling tea cups and tree houses? All right, I didn't struggle that hard. I promptly gave my lefty, anti-corporate tendencies the boot and voted for over the top family fun. P seemed to sense it was something special when I mentioned the word "castle." But mentioning that it was Cinderella's castle, well now. The child was on fire to meet this girl. Whoops. How am I going to work that?! So I mentioned that Cinderella might be busy cleaning, but we could definitely see her castle. No, he told me, she doesn't clean in the castle.

Then we got sick and postponed our trip. As I'm talking to our travel agent on the phone I hear P moan, "we no go to Disney world now?" So even though our rescheduled trip occurred during half the country's spring break, we Were Going to Disney World. My mom bravely came along.

If going during Spring Break wasn't enough of a handicap, P's exhaustion tipped the scales. He'd had so much fun at the aquarium the day before with Gramps that he had zonked right before dinner, only to then be up half the night. The 90 minute drive that had seemed a cakewalk during my planning stages transformed into a squeel-fest from the back seated tyrant. 'Turn the car Around and go get More mint ice cream like Gramps did Yesterday. Now.' He was too tired to understand distances and too amped about castles to sleep, so we validated and nodded for the last 30 minutes, praying for free ice cream with our tickets.

We finally entered the park (tram ride, ticket purchase, monorail ride and security check later) and he saw the castle. Ahhhh. All will be well. "I want mint ice cream." Such is life with a focused three year old. The place was more packed than Times Square preparing for New Year's. But once P had his ice cream things started to look up.

A huge parade passed right by us - with Cinderella atop a huge pumpkin coach float. Thank gawd. She wasn't cleaning after all:) Snow White was there too with a couple of dwarves. Hook and Pan soon followed. The best show for my mom and I though was Phoenix. He didn't smile and wave or look excited. Instead, he had this frown (see pictures above) that clearly said "How the hell?" And when the parade was over, that's exactly what he wanted to know. "Mama, how they in our world?" Ugh. One of those tricky Santa Claus moments. So I told him the truth, people in costumes etc. He was quiet for a while and then later told me that he thought he had the solution. "Maybe the characters came to our world with magic." :) What can you say to a child who wants to believe, other than, yah, maybe...

The lines for the rides were unbearably long. We did less in a day at Disney World than I've ever done there in about an hour. But Its a Small World seemed to be worth it. He tried using the cool frown again, but just couldn't swallow down the grin and point reflex. He wanted to make sure Baby Brother was looking at everything and that BB was scared of any tunnel-like parts. As soon as our feet touched land P wanted to go on it again. As we exited and he saw the enormous line he turned tail and took off. I had to chase him all the way back down to the boats where he was determined to "just get back on."

We took a break at the 100 acre woods playground. Seeing Pooh's house (he called it Piglet's since Piglet was hanging out of the window) and entering its small door had him reallllly working to hide a goofy grin. He kept shaking his head in disbelief that he was Really There. He "ate" honey from the pots sitting around and walked in and out of the small home a hundred times.

Then we went on the Pooh ride. It was dark and supposed to be spooky and P Loved it. He kept laughing and shrieking "you Scared Baby Bwother?" (BB is scared of both tunnels and darkness). After 40 minutes in line and 5 minutes of laughing, P wasn't quite ready for another ride. He started to notice all of the kids walking around with toys and decided it was time to go shopping :)

He'd seen a number of pink pyramid shaped princess hats and requested one a couple of times since entering the park, but I figured a Buzz or Cinderella toy would would win him over. We went into Tinkerbell's shop and P pounced on a princess hat. Personally, I had no problem with it (and would rather see it on my son than daughter, hehe) but I wasn't sure about my mom. Silly me - whatever her grandson wants:) He also picked some figures to act out story lines and happily pranced out of the store in his tough boy camo shirt and pink hat. And promptly fell asleep in his stroller.

I carried him through the Buzz Lightyear line and woke him when we reached the ride. We climbed in our space ship and shot our lasers and twirled our rocket. He was so focused he barely mentioned BB. It was the perfect ride for him and the perfect test for me. I had to let go of all of my overanalyzed theories and hangups and just enjoy his joy.

My mom was a trooper. Carrying whatever I threw her way, producing an umbrella when the sun hurt P's eyes, driving during screams and squeels, and being infinitely patient with how the day unfolded. Then she drove all the way home while P (loudly) teased Baby Brother about monsters in the dark fields and demanded Grams pull over into said field and turn the car off to scare BB. Reaching the ranch, not 30 seconds from the home she had to be Very ready to return to, she turned the car off to patiently let P enjoy the darkness.

P took a Long time to unwind and want bed. When he was finally ready he brushed his teeth and put on his princess hat to nod off to sleep.

Dining room dance queen

Amidst P's painting today, he danced. Guess it was a right brained kinda day. When E saw the video (after, that is, he wiped the tears from his eyes from gut laughing) he said I must have shown P those moves. Um, no. While its true that I am a dancing spaz, none of those moves are mine. Especially not the dramatic leg lift ending... He's never seen any sort of dance production (that shall have to be remedied this summer!) so his influence is of unknown origins. I'm guessing past-life Russian ballet with some sort of intrinsic modern twist thrown in....

Mama dreams of MOMA

I Loved painting when I was little. Whenever I pretended to run away from home I carried my little yellow knapsack with a sandwich, a doll and crayons and paper. I couldn't fathom leaving the house without stuff to scribble. Then along comes my offspring. The first time P is introduced to a new medium he delves in deeply for an hour, resurfaces and never really looks back. I've set up countless art possibilities and the only things slightly artistic P returns to are play doh (especially the peppermint scented!) and glue. We spend days in play-doh-land and the child could drip an entire glue factory without feeling satiated. But he doesn't actually want to Glue anything together (nature collage, magazine collage, paper collage, bean collage, no thanks), its just the dripping, pouring, squirting, running, well, you get the idea.

Wanting P to have a healthy vision of productive adults (consistently involved with the child but not constantly revolving around the child), I've decided to try working some during the day. Maybe it will also help him spend a little time in independent play? I told P my plan this morning and asked if he wanted to do art beside me while I worked? Oh yes, he says, and Baby Brother needs a little easel too - he'd alacazat him and then BB can magically be an artist too! We traipsed to the art store for my paper and something to interest P, but I had low expectations. He'd be back to his trains by lunch.

Then we saw it. Little plastic squeeze bottles. The perfect size for a child's hands. Almost identical to the food coloring containers in our kitchen that he's obsessed with. Something that would produce a squirt similar to... Glue!!! We snatched them up along with some paint and hurried home.

That was at noon. P was still painting at 7 tonight. He took a break twice, to eat and dance, but otherwise he was absorbed in his work. I feel like an ass for not seeing the solution sooner. He isn't so fond of finger painting (then he has to (gasp!) wash his hands) or painting with brushes. But he Loves color. (Typical child, the brighter and more covered in glitter, the more fun!) He Loves mixing colors. But watercolors just turn into a puddly, muddy mess and mummy has reminded him way too often that pricey food coloring stains Everything. But ketchup and glue squirters with saturated color, well now, hello nirvana.

His interest is deepest with new things, so I try extra hard to Butt Out when he's experimenting. Always a challenge for me:) P eschewed the brushes we'd bought, requested certain colors to be mixed in his squirters and then set to work in an inventive way. He laid color over color, overlapping again and again. (I was glad for the 80# paper) Then he took a nearby stick and drug it through the colors. He'd pick up the entire project to let the mass slide and then squirt some additions with his other hand. It was methodical and focused and fascinating to watch. I'm fairly certain the by-products of his enjoyment are far lovelier than anything I've ever thought of. So, it was a good thing the store didn't have my paper, it was way too much fun to watch Him work and refill his squirters every 2 minutes. Maybe the world can stop revolving around P on Wednesday...

Beach Babbler

P's rhyming habit started about 2 months ago. It has slowly progressed into a verbal delight with all things nonsense. The child has always babbled nonstop at home, now he does it with rhymes and made up words. He's adopted (thank you Grams!) some more Uglydolls - so that Baby Brother can have more family. Their names perfectly display the complete bullshit he constantly spews :) They are: Baby Beehue, Beek Mok, and Bat Mac. The two that have been sitting unnamed for the past few months in his castle have now moved to the couch and are called Horroray and Eerhu. Yes, those are the names of his dolls. And yes, he remembers them and corrects us when we get them wrong. The above pic is from Florida. P set BB's family up to watch us swim. While they have each developed personalities and voices, fortunately we do not yet all travel in a pack.

The below video is P on the beach in Florida. He was cold from the water and wanted "a break" from his suit. The mumbo jumbo captured here is pretty much standard P speak these days.

Mote Aquarium with Gramps

P loves our aquarium at Coney Island so we decided to try the Mote Aquarium too. Added bonus: Giant Squid. (Ever since the squid and the whale exhibit rocked his world at the AMNH P's been pretty fascinated with giant squids.) He teased BB all morning about how scary it would be, cackling at BB's every moan of anguish.

He breezed past all of the beautiful fish and headed straight to the squid. It was fairly grotesque, it's enormous body preserved in a large tank. He loves that none can be kept in captivity, that they (so far) require the freedom of the deep. He shoved Baby Brother at the tank, taunting him. "You scared, Baby Brother?" This squid was 37 feet long when found off New Zealand. P Really wanted to know why its shrunk to its current 23 feet, something I still need to google... He had more questions than the elderly helper had answers so I see a library trip in our near future.

After that were (of course) the beloved sharks, and more BB taunting. The tank contained Enormous (and ugly) grouper that made Phoenix a bit nervous, which he expressed through BB's thoughts. "I want Baby Brother to be scared the gwouper will break down the glass." Then the touch pool containing the much adored hermit crab - a creature that ranks amongst sharks and wildebeests in P's heart. We also stroked a chocolate chip sea cucumber, a sand dollar and urchins. You could attempt to snag a stingray (sans stinger) but they adamantly avoided P's hand.

After a lovely picnic with Gramps we headed to the manatee, turtle and dolphin rehabilitation center. P was really interested... until he saw the gift shop. I know they have to make money, but geeeeez. He didn't care a lick about the diving dolphins once he saw the plastic squids.

We went around the bend and dipped our toes in the breezy bay. P was tired, chilled by the wind ("No Blow!!) and blinded by the sun "I want some shade") so it was an unusually brief water affair. On the way home Gramps spied some ice cream - Ben and Jerry's (food coloring free!) mint to be exact. Quite possibly P's favorite food on earth. Ahhhh, a perfect ending to a lovely day.

Florida Update

Wow have we been having fun! So much fun, in fact, that there are no spare minutes to blog :) I'll post this weekend about the aquarium, swimming, alligator hunting and Disney World, but for tonight, just a quick video from today.

Beach Babe

I'm guessing all children love the beach. A sand pit and paddling pool in one perfect package. We headed to Lido Beach this morning, just us and a carload of crap :) In NY we can bring whatever fits in my knapsack - which ain't much. Here, the car's the limit...

It was foggy and cool when we arrived, which made for wonderfully comfortable sand play. P's new buddy down here loaned us a digger and dumptruck, solid suburban sizes both :) His mother had bragged that they occupied her three year old for an entire beach afternoon while she read and rested and she insisted we bring them along for a pleasant beach experience. So sweet - and I admit to High hopes. Ah, well. There are many types of children in the world and mine is apparently highly interactive :)

After burying BB and deciding the large waves were too chilly yet for a swim, we took to castle building. The one thing we had forgotten was a little shovel, and the digger didn't really dig, so we exfoliated our hands and feet on the course sand and dug a couple of moats. It was great fun watching them fill with water and using the dump truck to move sand from one castle to another.

When we water played at Coney Island last October P was still small enough to need my hand to keep from toppling under. When I told him he was probably ok this time he was eager, yet edgy. He'd run, pell mell, towards the waves, his little jaw set in concentration. If a big one surprised him he'd growl at it. It was hilarious to watch him work so hard while trying to act so nonchalant. The day warmed and the beach started to fill. An older boy was doing tricks on a boogie board nearby while 5 and 6 year olds jumped into the waves and swam. P would study them and then rush the waves with a determined look - only to steer to the side as the big ones hit. Despite his inability to dive under he was pretty pleased with himself all day. He'd run back to me with an aloof "you saw that?" Then he wanted BB to say only big kids can do that (run in the waves) :)

Once it was warm I suggested we swim a bit. He loved the idea of going "way out like the big kids" so we tramped through the large waves. P quickly got a face-full of seawater when a wave washed right over him, but after lots of coughing and spitting he wanted to go back - without "dunking." I carried him out after swearing on graves that I would look out for him... only to be knocked down by a wave myself. (Really, they were kinda big!) However, I managed to raise him high when I fell, keeping his face dry. On my knees in the ocean I stupidly turned to him with a look of "see! I'll protect you!" Gazing at my son I forgot all about the oncoming wave and my knee-bent, short stature. Bam! We both got doused. As I laughed and sputtered P turned his sun weary eyes to me and said (after he finished coughing) "I want to go to Gramps' pool."

Ahh, well. It had been 4 hours, so home we went. After loading the car for an hour we were ready to go :) Two minutes from the beach P asked where BB was. Whoops, I had loaded him in the back. We chatted about it and P seemed ok with seeing BB at home, they could talk through the seat. Then I heard P saying "Baby Brother, I'm so, so, So sorry mama forgot you in the back." He was quiet for a minute. Then he said "Mama! I know! You can pull into a parking lot and get out and get Baby Brother and then get back in traffic?" Needless to say, BB road shotgun on the way home.

True to his word, P jumped out of the car and headed for the pool. Being a red head from the winter north, I was a virtual lobster by the time we got to the pool (yes, despite a couple doses of #30) which really helped P understand the importance of sunscreen. Reticent on the issue all day, he eagerly helped me reapply both of us and fake applied cream to BB. We had managed to keep the stuffed doll free of seawater (except for his fingertips - P Insisted we let him Touch the ocean) but apparently he has been relabeled as a pool toy, so in he went. P's confidence had grown again and he swam without my hand the whole time. I had to Greatly encourage our exit 2 hours later. After we showered and had dinner P reiterated his preference for more pool time. Sadly, I was done with water for the day. Thankfully, there is a gate to the pool, because P really disagreed with me. Fortunately, the gate is too high and slippery, even for a very determined child.

It was a long day and I figured he'd zonk Fast tonight. But as he nursed to sleep his brain just kept churning. He'd pause to ask "where do dinosaur muscles go? when we find the skeleton?" Or, "Is Danda a mama kitty?" He wasn't stalling because short answers satisfied him and he'd lay back down. He was just still curious about stuff. Tonight I decided my Xmas list: the endurance of a three year old.

Superboy to the rescue

P has taken to calling himself Superboy occasionally. His reluctance to be someone other than Phoenix ("it is Me, Phoenix!!!) is transitioning to longer bouts of sea monsters and superboys. Usually he runs, very fast, and jumps, very high ;) His additional trick is to rescue Baby Brother. A comical story line since he's never seen an actual comic book or super-hero show. Wild guess: he's gonna like that stuff. Below he stages BB's shipwreck and dogpattles to the rescue. He's so proud of himself too. Amidst the "on your mark, get set, go" you can hear him say "Baby Brother, look, I'm just swimming."

Mr. Fish

P seems to be settling in and enjoying himself. We watched Gramps play polo yesterday while we simultaneously played diggers with the little boy from two barns down. Then I took a lovely break while he and my mom played trucks together. When I returned he said "Mama. I have to tell you something. I have Funfunfun with Grams!!!" We ran through the rain and then bought more mushroom quiche at Whole Foods for the egg and mushroom addict. On the way home he pretended Grams was a cab driver who had kidnapped us. Baby Brother screamed at passing cars for help and repeatedly freaked when the cab driver turned on the windshield wipers, all amid sadistic giggles. Oh the drama.

We did some shopping this morning for the infamous "James" train he's had on his list and summer stuff. He consistently picks out bright, flowery dresses for me, or pink flip flops. Guess he's tired of cargo pants and brown shirts:) When we got home Gramps informed us the pool was warm and P didn't waste a second putting on his suit. He hasn't swam since last August but surprisingly acclimated in about 2 seconds (what problem transitioning?). Sucking down water really upset him last summer, but today he'd just spit and swim, occasionally wiping boogers on my arm. We started out keeping BB dry, just a voyeur, but that also lasted about 2 seconds. P couldn't stand the idea of missing a rescue mission (or was it the drowning BB part?). So he decided BB could stay dry on the boogie board. After about 2 rescues P chucked him into the pool saying he would dry:) That poor doll.

We paddled around for 2 hours. When he tired of tossing BB's body halfway across the pool he became a sea monster hunting BB. He captured him and swam him to our cave. Baby Brother's pathetically soaked carcass made a waterfall down our rocky cave and P drank the salty runoff as a sea creature would. Eventually, (he is part Schultz) he was determined to "surf" and demanded his little body balance, standing, on the boogie board. Mission accomplished, he had me pull him to once again rescue BB. Then he took out his shark and chased Baby Brother, BB's scared screams making P's day. Then he tried to hold BB under water to drown him, pushing him under with his legs, sitting on him. Much to his dismay, BB really, truly floats ;) Despite all of his brutish behavior towards Baby Brother, he kept tabs on the monster's whereabouts. When BB rounded the pool corner without Phoenix's knowledge P glanced around and frantically screamed "where's Baby Brother?!" But as soon as he pegged BB's location he was back to his previous thought. Its an interesting mix of extreme attachment and "oh, we can just play with something else if he dies."

P did a lot of jumping into the water too, fully submerging himself occasionally. He came up choking and sputtering and... laughing. A much more daring approach in the pool than last summer. I suggested losing the floaties, but he wasn't feeling quite That daring. Maybe tomorrow...

The Pool

P's warmth filled days have been tainted by his grumpiness. Transitions are notoriously difficult for him and New York to Florida is a pretty big transition. "I'm Grumpy!!!" he growled to me numerous times yesterday while barking commands and snarling preferences. I woke up this morning determined to smother him in love and acceptance and by afternoon he was finally finding a little balance and seemed less surly.

He also found the pool. P Loveslovesloves water (despite his reticence to bath). The heater hadn't quite kicked in (I declined the invite to dive in) but P greatly enjoyed splashing about the "sun shelf" (a brilliantly devised 6 inch deep section.) Then he accidentally dropped Baby Brother in the pool. His initial look of horror almost instantly turned to twisted satisfaction as he mock screamed for me to Saaaave Baby Brother! Thus our afternoon was set. BB was repeatedly tossed into the deep end (amidst his screams of dissent) so Phoenix could shriek about alligators and drownings. Then we'd rush to BB's rescue, only to immediately toss him in again. Thank gawd the thing floats. And is color fast. And is apparently well stitched.

He eventually ended up with chattery teeth and rushed to a warm bath (with BB). He lovingly poured warm water over BB, asking him if it felt nice and warm. Then he filled a floating box up and sang Happy Birthday to BB. Possibly making amends? If so, his guilt ended quickly. He chuckled with gusto as he put on a mask and bee balls to scare Baby Brother out of his monster suit. Well stitched, important. Not actually human, essential.

Warmth

As we drove to my folk's house from the airport P announced that he was happy. "You happy we in Florida mom?" He claimed it was the warmth that had him jazzed, and then asked 8 million times when he would see grams :) My poor parents will have no rest for the next week, he constantly keeps track of their location and what occupies them, additionally occupying them with his many questions.

When he isn't busy keeping tabs on his grandparents he is outside, enjoying his favorite thing in the world: the absence of cold. Granted, he has a few restrictions. His infamous nose precludes anything that is upwind from a barn (a difficult limit to set on a horse ranch). "I no like the smell of barn!" he screeches and simultaneously scrunches up his nose like it will fall off. He doesn't like the sun in his eyes. "I No LIke The Sun!!" he screams as he grabs his baseball cap to protect his eyes and searches out the shade. The wind gets a personal dissing "No Blow!" he shouts as he brushes his hair from his eyes and points his finger at the sky.

What does Mr. Sensitive like? He does like riding, Fast, in the back of Gramps' gator in search of sand (he was devastated (see above) the local playground had mulch rather than sand - he hid his red rimmed eyes and asked Baby Brother "you disappointed baby brother? I no disappointed.") He very much likes the semi trucks hauling sand. Another recent fave is starting conversations. Generally, by asking anyone and everyone their name. "What your name?!!" he screams as we whiz past polo players or semi drivers. He yelled to a guy fishing "What your name?" (Insert confused response from stranger) "Why you fishing?" (Insert misunderstood "Yah, I'm fishing.) "Please no eat the fish!! Why you eat fish?!" (Insert relief on my part that the gator motor droned out the 3 year old's plea for world fairness.)

The grandparents sweetly hauled his Vespa south for his visit and he was stoked to ride it in the warmth (but Not the sun.) Innocent enjoyment ended quickly. He soon began gaily flinging Baby Brother from the seat so he could gun him down. "That hurt?!" As he carefully maneuvered his wheels over his "best friend" I tried to grasp the gap between his recent benevolence towards random fish and his tire marks on BB's face.

I get it. Being a kid is rough. Everything is the wrong height and size. Most people don't take you seriously when you take Everything seriously. And there are so many hidden rules you are constantly, and accidentally, breaking. Pent up aggression is a bitch for anyone. But sheesh, somedays I find myself feeling bad for a stuffed monster.

Living with a 3 year old

One of the best things about living with a three year old is constantly seeing the world anew (running through a dust cloud or a puddle is experiencing perfection - how cool is that?). Also cool is being the center of said shiny world. God himself could tell Phoenix that squirrels have sharp teeth and P would merely turn to me and say, "Squirrels have sharp teeth, mama?" While occasionally exhausting, especially since I know so very little, I try to enjoy every moment of his trust since he will soon think he knows much, Much more than me. My days of (pretend) omniscience are sadly limited.

Today, Phoenix told Baby Brother he isn't going to get married when he grows up (his Uncle Seth is recently engaged). He said he's going to marry Mama and Papa. Awww, center of the universe warm fuzzies. Shortly following this chat was a "world anew" announcement: "Mama! You can also use boogers as lotion!?!" My eyebrows must have let on that this was questionable information and his tone changed ever so slightly. "Mama? You can use boogers as lotion? (Then he felt a little more sure of himself, those limited days of trust rearing their head already) Really! You can! Boogers as lotion!"

P played with the camera today, most of his pictures are of Baby Brother. I snapped a couple of him hamming it up and then one of his Dr. Seuss looking castle creations that should, technically, fall instantly, but don't. We also had a fun outing to Whole Foods for some airplane snacks. Their Gorgeous candy display has P foaming at the mouth every visit. We're reading "The Lion, the witch and the wardrobe" and noticed they had real Turkish Delight for sale. P was So excited. After noshing on our treats we tried the playground next door but the kid was just too cold. Then he actually fell asleep, sitting up, on the subway home. Carrying groceries And a sleeping three year old (who had promised to walk) all the way home may not be one of the best things about living with a three year old. But the utter trust that I'll take care of him regardless of the groceries sure is :)

Playgroop and waterplay

After spending the morning in Phoenix's Dinoworld (his word) we headed to playgroop for the afternoon. It was warm enough for some ball play in the backyard followed by some legos indoors. Every time we go I'm struck by how wonderful these kids and mamas are and how lucky we are to be a part of this group. On the trip home, Phoenix enjoyed stomping in as many puddles as possible. When we reached the front door, he announced he was Not saturated and needed More puddles. We quickly stirred the crock-pot, grabbed his puddle jumpers and headed to the park. There's a lovely spot there that will Not drain, just outside the playground, our permanent puddle destination. Having just bathed Baby Brother last night, I left him at home, assuming this outing might ruin my hard work. But I miscalculated how attached P is to speaking with BB. As he happily splished and splashed he told me to make BB speak, from home. He pretended to call BB up on BB's cell phone so they could chat about his puddle :)

Once we were cold and wet, we headed home in the dark, hopefully not contracting pneumonia. P headed to the bathroom with Baby Brother while E and I ate our warm soup, . Minutes later he requested our audience, sounding quite pleased with himself. I walked in to find Baby Brother covered in foaming soap, puffy from being so water logged, and Phoenix proudly announcing he was giving BB another bath. I think we better buy a back-up Baby Brother at this rate. Something about "surface wash" doesn't rhyme with "nightly scrub."

Walking on sunshine

It was sunny and "warm" yesterday and we (okay, I) were sooo ready to get out of the house. Uncle Seth had entertained us Sunday afternoon, blessedly breaking up the monotony of a work filled weekend for Ethan. But we (okay, I) were really ready to Not crawl around on the carpet with toys. I swear, every day we stayed in, P became less able to spend 2 seconds without me as entertainment until the last few days were just 12 hour stretches of the Mama Show: starring: One Reluctant Mama. Hanging out with your adorable offspring is a dream come true, and yet, by the end of last week I had to say things to myself like "well, we don't have dengue fever," and "at least we don't live in Antarctica" to keep my spirits up.

So I announced upon awakening Monday that we were headed out of the house. Having forgotten that such a thing could be enjoyable, P insured me he was going nowhere that pajamas weren't de riguer. I enlisted back-up, slyly calling his buddy Malek to join us and chatting excitedly with Baby Brother about our plans. Pushing the stroller to the zoo, it felt a little pathetic to be so pleased about out-smarting a 3 year old, but I'd bet the silly grin had something to do with my body finally storing up Vitamin D again.

We were only up for a small outing so we had a picnic at our neighborhood zoo and played in the groundhog tunnels. Phoenix teased Baby Brother that there was a Minotaur in the tunnels/labyrinth with menacing growls that turned to shrieks of laughter when Baby Brother cowered behind me. After playing in the eggs and a brief look at the baby kangaroo (realllly cute!) the boys took to fencing with long sticks, ignoring the animals. Malek went home for a nap and P and I walked through the park to do some more sword play.

Ahh, the spawn of the 2 pacifists. I can hear my gun toting family cackling as I type. While P doesn't, technically, know what a gun is, yet, he saw the spear carrying Neanderthal at the NHM and then the huntsman in Snow White - both of which seem to have adequately enamored him with swords. Fortunately for P, I enjoy smacking sticks around while shouting "hi-yah", so we found a sunny spot and sparred. He found a shorter sword for Baby Brother and the three of us went to. Then we sat for a snack and P started pouring dirt and mulch on his fairly filthy playmate. With the damage already done, I held my tongue and he found fiendish enjoyment in stuffing mud in BB's eyes. It wasn't the first time I've noticed P's strange laughing tendencies. While I know he's a fairly happy child, he doesn't just walk around chuckling. In fact, the only time I can count on a laugh is when he's torturing Baby Brother. So at 34 I finally understand the Road Runner. Most annoying cartoon in the world, or so I thought as a child. P would Love it. He's the kid they drop the anvil for - a smushed coyote would have him rolling in the aisles. So, with each shriek of indignation from Baby Brother, P hunkered down and dug more mud, giggling merry sounds. The warm sun, the sweet sounds of laughter, the absence of plastic dinosaurs and their demands, it was really quite lovely. As long as I didn't wonder what Jeffrey Dahmer was like as a kid :)