Krazy for Koons

A friend set up an art in the park day for some AP kids, so we joined Yoav on the way to the Metropolitan Museum of Art's roof. But en route to the sub, P fell apart. He did NOT want to go on the subway. He was actually crying (something he rarely does when he's upset.) Eventually his story came out. He was petrified someone would grab him and throw him off of the train or take him away from me... somehow. He didn't know where this idea came from, dream, book, story? But it had settled into his brain and freaked him out. I validated that it was a scary thought and that I wouldn't want to ride a train if that could happen! So he asked if we could, please, Walk to the museum. Full disclosure always in mind, I told him, yes, it was Possible. The museum might be closed by the time we made it :) but we Could do it...

Eventually, armed with a stick sword (that I promised to wield without hesitation) he happily hopped down the stairs....

Yoav was in a playful mood and started teasing P as we read our books. P was not in a playful mood and started punching Yoav while we read our books. Strangely enough, this actually encourages Yoav :) So we moved away and quietly read our way to the museum. But it set the tone for the two of them and they, mostly, tormented one another whenever they were within grabbing distance for the rest of the day.

Fortunately, we had just read When Pigasso Met Mootisse and P was really jazzed about modern art. When we emerged onto the bright rooftop and saw the enormous balloon dog, P practically squealed. The view was amazing:


and the size and shininess of the sculptures were thrilling to a three year old (and me:) P just Had to take some pics and set to, very seriously, documenting the beauty. These pics are his and I love how he zoomed in on the details:


OK. I know I'm partial - but I'm just Lovin' his compositional choices! And the zoom - I can't get over him zooming into the detailed area on this one:


As we meandered out of the museum we found ourselves amongst African masks. P didn't have any memory of loving these same pieces when he was little(r), but he did. And this time was no different. We were trying to breeze through to get to the park and he was stopping to study the masks and listening carefully to the descriptions. The village deal-maker, below, was his top fave (besides a crocodile (of course) shaped mask). The write-up beside it was fairly technical, totally dry, really, but I may as well have been reading The Great Gracie Chase to him he was so riveted.



When we finally arrived at the park our friends were waiting with foil and tape aplenty for sculpture making. The girls had already created some magic wands and P was set on adding to his collection (we made a felt one at home earlier this week). So we settled in for sculpting and snacking in the grass.

When everyone departed P and I hung out, rock climbing and jumping...

until he "heard monsters" and screamed "Wun! Oh! Scoot! They'we after us!!! Baby Bwooooothew!!!! Wuuuuuuun!!" And we flew to our scooter and took off through the park, P screaming This way or That as we zoomed past tourists. His directions happily landed us at the Alice in Wonderland sculpture, at which point the monsters took a break.




E just read Alice to P, so the story was very much alive for him. He thought sitting under a giant mushroom atop a scary crocodile was about the most perfect way to spend the day possible. He joined the clambering kids and climbed atop the Mad Hatter's Hat. Looking at the Rabbits watch reminded me of mine. And oh! We were late! So we scooted off to meet Papa, waving goodbye to Alice till the next time...

Our lovely day ended with Ciao Bella, P's favorite: Fresh Mint Ice Cream

Wall-E = Scare-E

E worked all last weekend. By Sunday P and I both missed him something awful, so we ventured into the city just to catch a little time with Mr. Wonderful. After breakfast P and I headed to Pearl River Market for a gift for a friend. Worried the market might be mayhem for a child without toy money, E gave P a little cash :) (You know E's bad back? Its from being wrapped around such a small pinky finger.) The child was thrilled.

Pearl River Market has grown into a huge space. There's teacups and paper lanterns galore alongside tin wind-up clowns and plastic duckies. Swords and onesies, fountains and dragon jackets, there was a festival for P's eyes. The aisles aimed at kids tickled P and he excitedly picked out presents.

It was really interesting to watch his process post Wall-E (Papa and his family took P to see Wall-E while I did my co-op orientation earlier this month.) While he's been witness to his parents' re-use, reduce, recycle mentality, this was just a given; the state of his world. I don't think he thought twice about all of our furniture purchases being second hand or antique. Everyone keeps worms in their homes, right? But after seeing the cataclysmic world portrayed in Wall-E, he thinks twice, A Lot. I've read articles saying adult themes in a kid's film is innocuous; little ones just miss the stuff and enjoy the splashy images. But this hasn't been the case with P. He asks lots of pointed questions and wants to get down to the nitty gritty of it all.

P: Why the people have to leave the Earth?
Me: There was too much trash, the Earth wasn't healthy anymore.
P: Why there too much trash?
Me: Welll, they bought lots of stuff and didn't re-use stuff. Everything has to go Somewhere and they put lots of stuff in the dump.
P: We can't put stuff in the trash anymore?
Me: Yah, sure we can. But dumps eventually get full. That's why Papa and I try to keep a lot out by recycling and feeding our worms and stuff like that.
P: But Grams and Gramps don't recycle.
Me: Um, yah. Lots of people don't.
P: But then there be too much trash! (Downbeat) We gonna have to leave Earth too?

And that face, that look of worry and sadness, dear gawd. We've had many iterations of this discussion over the past few weeks, ending with me weakly reassuring the child that our planet is strong, we just have to do our part and it will be healthy and happy... Which, of course, is contradicted every time we go to the aquarium or zoo and the failing conservation of Earth is pointed out. Ugh. Nothing like a three year old worrying about the future of his world and starving polar bears.

So, post Wall-E, P's present picking is much more poignant. He was already veering away from plastic toys (they break more easily than wood and metal) but now that he wants to prevent excess trash he's really working his way away from "junk." So he carefully selected a tin wind-up crocodile, a harmonica and a spin drum. (He's really into instruments lately. Its a new stage that has jumped up suddenly and seemingly out of thin air. I'm sure there is an inspiration in there somewhere, but its not obvious this time. He wants to play the violin and have "all of the instruments in the world.")

Outside the store he opened and tried each item. After ecstatically playing his harmonica he looked up at me and smiled. A bright red smile... The cheap paint on his "made in china" harmonica was leaking all over his face. Oy.

As we scooted uptown he peppered me with why questions. Why did the paint leak? Was he going to die? Why put paint on a harmonica that can't get wet? And I just wasn't sure how to answer him. Gee, honey, people will do anything to make a buck, even poison little kids with cheap products and stick lead paint on Thomas Trains. Do I lie and cover for the bastards? Oh, well, I'm sure they didn't know they were creating cheap pieces of shit.... And then he wants to know if we'll have to throw it away and add to the dump and leave the Earth.

I'd always planned on shooting it straight with my kid. Non shady answers, full disclosure when requested. But I'm finding more and more that I just want to hug him and tell him everything will be alright. People will only make good, solid items that are necessary. They won't poison his planet or trash it. They won't push him off a train. The other day at the co-op he saw the meat section and asked the type of each meat. After reading all of the labels as he pointed, making sure I didn't miss a one, he asked "Do people eat people meat too?" Downbeat. "Will anyone ever eat me?" Images of Papua New Guinea flashing through my mind I kissed his head and said, "No. No one will ever eat you." But, he wants to know, Mama, does it Ever happen? Oh, gawd, the honesty is killing me. So I try to promote personal responsibility, moving away from any sense of blame. WE don't eat people. WE can recycle. WE can work harder not to buy from stores and companies that sell leaky red paint or, better yet, buy second hand, yadi yadi.

While we waited for E to finish his project, we read a million books at the bookstore and then burned off some energy at the playground. Union Square's playground is small, not very clean and very busy. But, and this is a big but, it has a real jungle gym thingy. Not one of those modern ramps surrounded by protective bars from which a child could Never fall. No, its a real, rusty climbing nirvana. And the kids swamp to the thing. P was focused on controlled falling (of course) and practiced scaling and dropping over and over again. Then he wanted to play his harmonica again. So we headed to some green space to be musical. As he pulled it out he asked if it was safe to put in his mouth. I asked if he was comfortable with it. He didn't know. So I said, "If it was me, I wouldn't be comfortable putting it in my mouth. But everyone has to choose what they think is safe for their bodies." And he said "If you're not comfortable with it, then I'm not comfortable with it." And he figured out how to blow it without touching his lips to the paint :)

The next morning we went to the neighborhood toy store and bought a paint-free harmonica (no second hand harmonicas being available that day :) P gave the red one to BB (charity/re-using) and they now duet together. Dump saved, child happy, Earth hanging in the balance...

The Great Phoenix Escape

So, it all started a week ago. After days in the house and an infinity on the floor I masterminded an escape plan. Picnic packed the night before, everything set by the door for an easy slide to the scooter (all in a great blast of unprecedented preplanning and organization) I tempted P with castles and treasure and he took the bait!

He Loves the book "The great Gracie escape." He realized one of his stuffed dogs even looks like Gracie Rose and thus she has been dubbed. So with Gracie in his backpack, the picnic, and BB in mine, we set off for Central Park. (Baby Brother and Gracie Rose are kinda the yin and yang of toys for P. BB is a tad confrontational and a bit of a rabble rouser while Gracie is a gentle soul, soft and not easily annoyed. The kind of friend that often elicits an "I love you Gracie Rose" from P's lips vs a "does this weawy hurt?")

As we headed out, P told me he was really nervous someone was going to separate us on a train. That they would grab him and push him on the tracks or take him away to their house :( This, apparently, is behind his enormous hesitation to go places! Poor kid - that's a pretty intense scenario, and he was genuinely concerned. So the entire train trip we schemed a machine that would protect P, ala Dr. Seuss's Utterly Sputter in "The Butter Battle Book." This imaginary creation outlasted the uptown train and carried us through our entire scoot and picnic; mechanical mental fabrications being P's forte and all :)



We ate in the grass while P created and then wrestled for a bit before running amok on the water castle. This stone-like structure has a raised wall "moat" of water all the way around it, sprinklers in the middle, and slides and turrets and crawl spaces too. P flew off of the moat and splashed around but was disappointed I didn't have water shoes, which placed me a whole 3 feet away from him. After a misjudged flight off of a high space (see Jumper post) he was ready to move onto the slide and tire swing. And, I kid you not, the child spun in circles until I was sick, just from watching. Eventually a kid camp had the playground busting at its seams and we escaped for some rock climbing. I love that this concrete jungle has great climbing for kids - P was in heaven.



Tired and ready for a relaxing scoot, P wanted to head to Belvedere Castle. He was just sure he'd find some treasure there. The scoot was sooo lovely, past the carousel ("No thank you. Maybe another time Mama. Let's go to the castle"), the lively bandshell, the boathouse where P listened to a violinist and gazed at the water,



and then on through the Ramble. P was sure there were Pirates after us at this point. So, despite his afternoon sleepies, he ears were on full alert :)



At the castle, we chatted with the watchman and then climbed to the top. P only half glanced around and it was then that I realized he was Really after that treasure now, screw the view. We descended and the weary P again chatted with the watchman. The old man suddenly reached into his drawer and drew out a golden star and deputized P as protector of the flowers and trees right then and there. P was fairly speechless, and I felt bad for the old guy, he couldn't tell it was a happy speechless, seeing how a blank stare can be taken so many different ways :)





As is his regular reaction to overwhelmingly happy feelings, P had to go outside and sit there quietly mulling things over for a few minutes. Then he said, "You glad he gave me this treasure? I'm so glad he gave me this treasure. Why he give me this treasure, Mama?"

After we picked E up from work, P proudly showed Papa his treasure over dinner. He really believes that what you wish for comes true, and the world, so far, keeps answering his optimism with mini miracles... As for me, it was a miracle to spend the day, for the most part, as myself :)

The Jumper

Soo... I last left blogdom whining about being stuck in the house. The Great Gods of Blogs apparently heard me and took pity - P and I have been on adventures a plenty. I have tons of pics and videos, but alas, no time. So just a quickie tonight for my jonesing mother (Hi mom - you're getting this post instead of an email! :)

P's flying infatuation has not subsided in the last week and I'm hoping it doesn't land us in a cast or two... But the child is fairly focused on this achievement, so we'll see... The below video is a compilation of his latest flying attempts, him basically flinging himself off of higher and higher objects to simulate prolonged flight. And most of the time when he lands he looks at me, eyes filled with complete awe, total belief and pride, and says "I flew!!!" I"m thinking we need to find a bungee jump thing for the child...

Playing parts

So, I blog tonight, still in my pajamas. No, we are not sick, out of clean clothes or making fashion statements in the Schulton house. The little man is just in a state lately. Always an interactive child, he is like Chatty Kathy on Crack these days. Its true, returning from Wichita usually has a slightly bossy effect on him. He's used to all of the hub-bub at my mom's. People around all of the time. And if E or I are busy (doing what he has just told us to do:) and he wants yet another request satiated, well, he can always smile sweetly at Grams and get another geisha. Then we return to Brooklyn and he has.... Me. One mama, two arms and its just Not Enough. He talks of siblings to fill the void. When quizzed, what he would really like, could we please, just get him another Mama, for when you're busy, Mama???

Added to this ghee of need is a oversized portion of developmental angst. Story times can go on for hours. And then they must be "acted out." For several more hours. When I stop to grab snacks or water I am followed and chastised and peppered with, are you done yet? questions every half a second. During these spells, Thursdays are my breaking point. We get out of the house very little and by then my quota on moving small figures and vehicles with fake voices is filled beyond capacity. I suggest zany outings, promising fabulous snacks en route. Pirate ships at the pier, bury me at the beach, car rides at Coney Island. Anything to leave the floor behind, but nothing works except for following his heart and letting his learning stage find its own conclusion. So, broken, I stay stinky and jammy clad (showers Really piss him off) and suggest baking for breaks. Today I thought I had it nailed with molasses cookies. As I pull up his ladder and start yanking ingredients I look down and see that a dinosaur and Snow White have joined us. But now Snow White thinks the sifter is her bed and I'm to pour ingredients on her... And then she thinks the flour is her fluffy pillows and the next thing I know I'm doing funny voices, moving figures And measuring baking powder... The kid has a gift, truly.

So, after the tireless munchkin passed out tonight, I think to myself, science experiments. He needs projects, non literary input. I already know craft projects (gross examples of preschool curriculum that they are) turn both of our stomachs and art projects rarely last as long as the clean up, but I think the kid would dig something sciencey... So I start looking. This search leads to lots of "homeschool curriculum for preschoolers' sights. What the heck, I'll check them out. Seriously, I'd take a hint from George W if it'd spark P's non-figurine fire.

One of the sites sounds promising. Their curriculum is based on books. A possible bridge between book and project? Whatever book a child is interested in can be made into a cunning curriculum for the correct age. Really? So I select Cinderella. There's a puzzle inspired by the book and a science section dedicated to... pumpkins. Ok, well, iiiinteresting. I keep reading. The social studies section is as follows:

Social Studies

Human Relationships: Acting Like a Princess
Common characteristics associated with being a princess include the following:
Kind – Having a generous and compassionate nature; showing courtesy to someone
Smart – Clever; Intelligent and showing mental alertness
Caring – Showing concern for others
Brave – Having or showing courage, especially when faced with danger, difficulty or pain
Polite – Showing or possessing good manners and common courtesy; elegant

Ok. I remember this kind of stuff in school. Sitting there while the teacher asked leading questions with that upturned voice at the end. Looking around at the other kids wondering, Bueller? Bueller? And if it didn't go this dull direction in our home atmosphere it instead runs the risk of teaching a child to build boxes around characters and stereotypes around people. We're hoping for a bit more mobility in P's perceptions of people's personalities. After all, princesses can be loyal or backstabbing, sweet or bitchy...

There's a language section, vocabulary and words derived from French. Then there is the literary part of the study. You can help your kid understand the "genre" of "fairy tale." Because asking these questions would really help P hate, I mean, understand a story better:

Checklist/Questions for student:
Was there a moral message in Cinderella, and if so, what was it?
Did it contain the beginning words “Once Upon a Time” or the ending words “And they lived happily ever after?” (My personal favorite. I Love useless questions.)
Was there a good character?
Was/were there an evil character(s)?
Were royalty present in the story?
Was there magic in the story?
Did anything happen in “threes” or “sevens”?

And it hits me, yet again, that "HOMEschooling" isn't what we're after here. Breaking down the lit P loves into leading questions will help him do one thing, lose his love. Kill the magic. The final suggestion for this study plan describes the student dictating a Cinderella tale of his own to be written down and then read back to him.

And this brings it all home for me. This is what P is doing. Day in and day out, sans curriculum. We read Anatole (French story about a mouse that is too honorable to steal from houses and instead becomes a taste tester for a cheese factory). We read it again. We go to the co-op and P goes positively Crazy in the cheese section (thank Gawd there's such a small mark up! The co-op rocks!) and hurries home to play Chief Cheese Taste Tester. We lunch on bread and cheeses while we read the book again, P quoting his favorite parts and even pointing to the areas from which I should read. Then its floor time. He grabs me and his play mice and writes his own story. Anatole lives in his tree house. He tastes P's cheese and takes some home. There's a fire, a scary cat, a fire truck, a new home, more cheese and many, many discussions about the book's subtle nuances all framed through play. This, he could do 12 hours a day if I had the energy (and personal chef, laundress and house cleaner to make it possible :) The question and answer periods that break his books down? He could handle it for about 30 seconds.

So, another dramatic vote for unschooling. Nevertheless, the little trip around the internet proved time worthy. With better planning I can pick books myself that will lend themselves to science projects. He'll naturally want to see a volcano after a dinosaur book! He'll probably want to see what the ooze does to his dinos too, so he might even get messy enough to get clean that day.... Right there are two activities, post book, that provides a figurine break yet promises interest for P! Now if we can only segue this into leaving the house too...

Until that time, and in between floor time, he passes his time spinning and cookie eating...

Please don't think me evil for laughing at the end of this video..:)

Feeding Geese

Its been a real struggle to get P out of the house lately. I don't know if he was too scarred by the never-ending Norwalk train ride (he didn't seem too phased by it?) or if he is just too keen on imaginative play, but he wants to hang in the house, on the floor, Non Stop. Fortunately, Froggy had geese feeding plans earlier this week and P decided to go along for the ride :)

South Norwalk

E was anxious to get out of town last weekend, so we headed to South Norwalk. P slept on the way to Grand Central (he's sleeping so well at night! He sleeps 10 hours Straight!!! The only downside to this is that he really needs about 11 hours sleep and usually won't go back to sleep once he finally wakes up. The outcome of this awkward transition to sleeping through the night is a non-napper who could really use a nap...) We read Peter Pan (of course) on our way north, and, fortunately, its a sizable book. Apparently we caught the broken train that only goes 5 miles per hour, until it finally gave up altogether and everyone switched trains. Yes, I'm still an adamant public transport whore. No, I wasn't happy :)

So we finally made to it the children's museum shortly before closing and had a lovely time. The water exhibit was wonderful, as was the bubble making section... but we almost didn't see any of it. P discovered a basket of hand puppets and was quite content to settle into the corner for an afternoon of role-playing with E and I. As we (more or less) went to Norwalk to Escape role-playing for one afternoon, we excitedly pointed out the window and gabbed greatly about the bubbles as a lure. Forever later (there was a cute squirrel puppet that P promised his heart to) we escaped to bubble land...

P has longed to be INside a bubble (preferably one floating up into the sky) ever since reading a book about this. One of the bubble contraptions could be raised around a child standing on a center platform. Oh gawd was P hooked on this station. YOu could see his concentration and excitement every time he achieved knee height with the bubble stretcher. Unfortunately, the wind was against him, breaking his bubble every time, and he never floated away...

He was equally transfixed by a nifty skeleton display. A child riding a stationary bike could look in a semi-reflective mirror at their image superimposed over a skeleton astride another bike. The movement of the child's pedals turned the skeleton's pedals too, bringing the bones to cycling life. There was a long line of pushy preschoolers at this station. P stood watching from the side, eventually sliding into line. A Very Excited boy started running circles around P, talking at him and touching him. This was Way too much for P :) and he practically begged the boy to scoot ahead of him in line, just to be rid of the kid's nervous energy. I felt a little bad for P since a couple of kids had already pushed their way in front of him, but his patience payed off. By the time he was front and center he had the display all to himself, giving it full concentration rather than stressing about jumpy kids in a line. A method to his unusually mellow madness :)

One of the things I hate most about leaving the city is the lack of good food :) Fire Island was lovely, the food, a disaster. Montauk, Sleepy Hollow, wherever we go we miss home come dinner time. Especially as vegetarians. But Barcelona saved South Norwalk, moving it to the "repeatable weekend" category. This tapas restaurant was Divine. It had all of P's favorites done to perfection, the hummus, the house cured olives, the mushrooms, the squash, the chocolate cake! And good beer to boot. As we huffed it to make our train home we were actually happy to be out of the city for dinner. Oh, and the kid's museum was ok too :)

I want to ride my bike

Not that the scooter has been replaced or anything, but P is all about his bike these days. Er, actually, all about Yoav's bike :) While he apparently adores riding his own wheels, he's really crazy about his buddy's aired up tires (all the better for P's frequent off-roading adventures. And yes, in Brooklyn, a tree well surrounded by cobblestones or the odd weed in the sidewalk crack counts as off-roading :) So it is with some suspicion these days that I reply to his requests to see Yoav... and Yoav's bike :)

Today was hot and the boys enjoyed the breeze going down one of the steeper hills in the park - along with a bunch of other sweaty little heads from the neighborhood. Then they played hide-and-seek, which led to tree climbing and some mutual wrestling. I say mutual, because there were other skirmishes that were less than requested :) Once, Yoav, always the wise sage, fixed P with a look (after a bit of fist-cuffs) and evenly said, "I won't hurt you if you won't hurt me." P stopped mid swing and said, "Ok." This same dynamic occurred a couple of times, where they would work each other into a little tizzy and start swinging (er, P would start swinging) and then instead of egging P on, Yoav would sum up the entire situation with a simple sentence. This break in energy would switch P's swings to vocal agreement in a simple second and they'd move on...

P proffered an overnight bike trade and Yoav sweetly agreed. When we got home it was well into dinnertime and P was exhausted. Nevertheless, he rode Yoav's bike back and forth through the apartment while I cooked, showing all of his toys his new prize :) I'm guessing a shower and breakfast are out of the question for me tomorrow, we'll be biking in our jammies at sun-up....

The Train Cake

P looooves the idea of desserts. But there are very few sugary items he'll just chow down on (mint ice cream and rolos aside). This, of course, doesn't detract from his intense love of them and, therefore, his request to create new sugary confections. Confections that then either rot from neglect or ruin his parents' waistlines :)

So, earlier this year, his favorite set of twins had a train shaped birthday cake which inspired P like no cake before. He finally landed a mold and was hot to cook. He made the batter, poured it in the pan and then decorated it too. The only downside to such a cake is that it is just too precious to P to be eaten. Much as the house shaped pancake I thought he'd enjoy last week (only to hear a request for 3 "regular" pancakes so he could save the house...) he will hold on to something creative.... until it molds. So, after ages baking, we split one train car, he ate a few sweet bites, said he'd like some cheese and watermelon please and that was that. Maybe I'll just freeze the rest for his birthday...

Living with a Boy

Have I mentioned that following P's lead in a non-judging way can occasionally be challenging? Today I made P a punching bag, for when he is angry. I've always been a safe spot when he is mad, but just recently he's started going after me when life throws the first punch. I told him today that while I need to feel safe, he needs to feel safe to be angry too. So, here's a soft bag hung at your height to beat the shit out of... Know what he said? Great! We need to make it look like you Mama...

Peter Pan

P's shot of BB getting in on the fun:


Phoenix has had a Peter Pan obsession for a while now. My stories started it (avid Pan lover that I am), followed by the book, followed by the movie and now countless evening stories starring P. Endless play sessions center around pirates and P saving someone (often Cinderella, still a fave record) from the patch wearing, sword wielding villains. He has a little dagger we made, in addition to the felt and foam hook and swords. Last week while we shopped the coop he carried his dagger, occasionally questioning me, "Mama, who do those people think I am?" Aka, can they tell from this oddly shaped piece of yellow foam clutched in my hand, the one you haven't taken the time to turn into a proper dagger, that I am secretly Peter Pan? Oh-hoh how many chuckles that gave me as I grocery shopped amongst the masses.

But finally, the dagger wasn't enough. He grabbed his felt at lunch the other day and demanded the entire ensemble. We quickly ordered some tights (have I mentioned I don't really sew?) and managed a cap from his felt pile. A green shirt turned inside out and a hair band as belt are buying me time to figure out a proper tunic. And while I've spent Hours on his swords, his dagger is a still a pathetic sight to behold. P finished his costume crusade with his kazoo, aka pan flute:) Despite the tossed together nature of the disguise, the child is fabulously happy with the results, gleaming, "I'm Peter Pan!" As he shed his costume the other night for bed I called to him, "Peter, come brush your teeth, Peter!" He skipped in behind me and then stopped and stage whispered with a shy grin "Mama, I'm not Really Peter Pan :)"



As is proven daily by the sad lack of flight. He is consistently miffed at how he can achieve take-off. We've hunted fairies, looked for pixie dust and even, sadly, thrown ourselves across the room just to make sure the secret power isn't already there :) So as I made dinner the other night it was with an enormous grin that he ran in and announced "Mama, I can fly." He took me to the bedroom and showed me the below trick:

Fire Island

During his visit, Jace really wanted to spend some time beachside, landlocked lad that he is :) So last Saturday we schlepped to Fire Island. There are closer beaches, sure. But we wanted to experience something Extra :) So the subway to the train to the bus to the ferry to the boardwalk we went :)

And, believe it or not, its really worth the schlep! The weather was gorgeous, the beach wasn't too packed and the sand was like flour. Flour, that is, that is littered with tiny jelly fish... Fortunately, P didn't have a reaction - but poor Jace must be allergic, his legs turned red and, apparently, were Very Itchy :)

Three generations playing on the beach...


Everyone jumped through the sand and played in the waves after a slow lunch. But the hit for the day was burying. P was buried a number of times, often partially burying himself when he was chilled from the water. Everyone buried Jace and Seth too. Someone excessively mature added breasts to the sand stuck boys, poor Jace even having to withstand the indignation of a plane mold turned tiny penis. P thought it was hilarious to see breasts on Jace, pointing in shock and giggling "neenees" but wasn't quite sure why a penis would be funny at all (still lacking all needs for privacy and completely enjoying running about the beach in his skivvies... Truly, the penis only seemed anatomically correct:)





Alicia sweetly chatted P up while he was unable to move. He thought this was fabulously interesting... until someone put a hat on his head. He said he didn't want it on. And before one of us could even move to remove it there was a huge realization from the three year old. In a normal situation, he would have knocked the hat off the instant it irritated him. But now, hands trapped beneath well packed sand, he needed help. And you could see this materialize in his little brain as he slowly muttered, "I want it off. I, can't. take. it. off..." Control of his body is such a given these days he was seriously shocked to find it lacking.




Grandpapa gathered shell after shell for P and tossed the little man about in the waves. Then we realized the shells made brilliant frisbees and started tossing them back in.... Nevertheless, P managed it home with a bag full of shells and washed up jellies.



The trip home was equally long, but equally enjoyable. The first leg, on the ferry, found us docked beside a boat floating a pirate flag. P's Top interest of the month being all things Peter Pan, this proved excessively exciting for him. Grandpapa asked P to tell him a story about the pirates and P started in a growl "Once upon a time (gravelly, gruff voice) in the deep, dark ocean..."

P was so jazzed from such a nice day that he was, literally, bouncing off of the train seats. We eventually transitioned to some books and then, when he could do no more, to sleep. The next day he was anxious to see his shells and jellies. The jellies Papa had assured him should not come back to Brooklyn. Needless to say the smell of the closed bag was revolting :) Here's to future trips to the beach, none of which we return from with dead animals...

P Blogs

So, I'd love to start a special blog for P and all of the photos he's snapping lately... but then my mom would have to figure out how to bookmark another page and, well :) So, for now, I'll just add in his shots and comments here. Because really, who needs to check Two blogs about P?

P's comments, as explained to his toy bunny:


That's Jace. That's Bric. That's Seth. Nobody else. Just the roof


That's not from real life. That just a picture.


They're laughing.


That's Grandpapa, Jace and Bric. I don't know. What are they doing?


That's just a picture. I took it. A skeleton


Jace and Aunt Alicia


And look at that big thing. What do you think that is? Its a big sprinkler. A big thing that sprays water all over the place.


Maybe its a limousine.


That's a restaurant.

AMNH

After a morning of jumping on Jace, we all meandered the AMNH. Grandpapa and Aunt Alicia joined us for a captivating tour of the dinosaur wing for which P was Alicia's wingman. He held her hand and led her from skull to skeleton. We saw the T-rex we'd just read about the day before, putting the Barnum Brown adventure into perfect perspective for P; the archeologist's story took a new life with the T-rex skull just inches away.



As everyone moved towards the Space Center P and I happened upon a dino room we'd never seen before. And (insert drum roll) there was a Pleisosaur there!!! P's crazy for any "sea monsters" of the dino age and finding this room was like finding the end of the rainbow (or better) for P. He wandered from display to display, actually Requesting photos.




Then, it finally struck him, he could take the pictures He wants to look at later if he looks through the lens.. His shot below:

So we now have a million pictures of the pleisosaur wing :) Only the announcement of the museum's imminent closing stopped his shutter from snapping and we ran, quite literally, to find the others.

From there we met Seth and Bric for dinner at La Bonne Soupe. Ahhh, P looooves fondue and soup and creme caramel :) He was tired from the long day and needed extra encouragement in the way of adventure stories to make it through the long meal. Fortunately, Seth, Alicia and Papa were ready storytellers.

Yawning and full we strapped him into the mei tai, from which he continued to play shutterbug :) But no diversion could save him, he fell asleep on the train dreaming of dinos...