Friday, November 20, 2009

Froggy Goes Hollywood


BB got some screen time the other night, so its time for fair turn-around ;)

P and E had a project a few weeks ago. They would make a movie with Froggy. Though P's plush pals are rather round characters, cardboard descriptions would follow thusly:
BB: The ever devoted younger brother who often misunderstands situations. He is scared of numerous things and is therefore fabulously fun to both torment and teach.
Sock Monkey: Hmmm, a little ornery, he's a yarn weaver, loving tall tails and chase based games.
Froggy: Well, basically, Froggy is a fuck. Seriously. He's ornery, tricky, argumentative, and when pushed to his limits, becomes "Super Froggy," the likes of which are not pretty.

From this cast, P has his choice of playmates, and yet, Froggy gets playtime. I don't get it. Well, I guess I do, a little:) When P picks Froggy, the gloves come off. Its jungle rules. Though I'll still hear him ask polite questions on occasion, or try to communicate cooperatively, generally there is just shrieking. Happy shrieks that evolve into pissed off shrieks, then foot stomps, then strongly worded directives to Froggy on how to be a better friend. When P picks Froggy, he has to be tough, stand up for himself, fight for his rights... and he can play a little rotten too :) Now, I just watched the clip below, in which (in typical sneaky Froggy form) Froggy appears to be a pretty nice guy, while the Little Man plays the part of hellion. Rest assured, this was all provoked, pre- camera roll. Well, mostly provoked...

Because, when the three of them decided to make a movie, P and Froggy fought all evening about how the movie would go. Which, basically, became the movie...

Halloween 2009


P, as I've mentioned before, is always P. Unless he is Woof-Woof, the imaginary dog that is P's only alter-ego. Despite finagling numerous costumes in the last two years, he will not wear them in front of anyone but me, and even then, only briefly. (One evening, sporting his bat costume, the Little Man realized it was near E's arrival time and was in a frenzy to remove the polyester velour. He hurriedly explained that Papa wouldn't know who he was! When I reassured him that Papa would always recognize his little boy, P asked, astonished, "How?!" He was a bat, for gawd's sake, how on earth would E figure him for a boy? :) Even with me, after a moment or two, he has to slide out of pirate garb to make sure I know its still him. While this has been a long standing habit, of late, its climbed to new heights.

In fact, I can no longer speak in any voice but mine or BB's. I'm prone to accents, funny voices, being a natural dork and all. P, however, will stand it no longer. If I slip into something silly, he claps his hands (his current physical exclamation point) and yells "Just. Be. Mama!!!!" Sometimes he even adds a foot stomp. Seriously, lately he gets lost so completely into his imagination, he can't see the neon signs pointing back towards reality.

Long story short, the kid wanted to Trick or Treat this year, but had no interest in sporting a costume. Yet, he knew it was expected and wanted to play by the rules. Tough conundrum. I mentioned he could accentuate something that is a part of him, rather than being something he is not. He could be an Explorer, a Painter, a Rock Collector... He suggested a paintbrush. Great! He suggested a Tree. Great! He suggested a Mountain, with hiking trails, a moose, a little river, lots of trees and a tiny BB, hiking on the trails. Chased by a bear. Ummm, not so great. So, of course, this is the one he wanted :)

Fortunately, when Halloween morning rolled around a day or two later, P wasn't in the mood to make a costume. He just wanted to ride Rody. Perfect! I said. Be a Rody Rider. So he was.

He greatly wanted me to accompany him Trick or Treating. I greatly wanted to go. But E is unable to make hummus, home-made pita bread and fancy brownies (P's requests for his first big Bday party, falling on the following day) so the roles were set and off they went. Fabulous Aunt Alicia and Uncle Seth tagged along and P, reportedly, had a great time.

He returned home with the rain and set to organizing and categorizing his new candy collection. He didn't unwrap a single piece of it, but trick or treated, over and over, with Froggy and BB, from his cardboard box "house" :) I'm fairly certain he was the only "Wody Widah" that day, and has received a number of blank stares when relating his "costume" choice. Next year, we'll have to pick something he can pronounce a little more clearly....

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Kansas Car Car





P pulled the old red fire truck out of the basement the other day and was pleased to find his legs long enough to push the pedals. Outside, he instructed BB to follow along behind, which the monster gladly did. Then The Little Man grabbed his best buddy and plopped him on the back for a real ride. Moments later BB was, quite purposefully, knocked off. I kept the camera rolling. Were I a betting kinda gal, I could have placed good money on how the scene would unfold....

Monday, November 16, 2009

Warehouses


The Little Man still prefers swirls and abstracts, but every once in a while he has a story to tell while painting. He popped this out before we left town, catching me by surprise since he hadn't ever painted anything like it. He said it was a warehouse in the fall...

Seriously?



After dinner, as I wash the dishes and do normal motherly duties (not to say they couldn't be fatherly too - just that E hasn't seen P all day, so..), E and P play. Seriously play. There is shrieking, laughing, running, strange voices, toys everywhere and, quite often, at least one set of bruises per night. Typically, Froggy is involved for a while, until his, um, ornery personality pisses P off. Then there is typically a brief, imaginative break, during which E is not E. Like tonight (I'm sick and therefore get to skip matronly chores in lieu of butt sitting) I hear gruff voices and a child astride my husband's back saying, "Go find Grams, Bear, but you may not eat her." Then, shortly thereafter, "Bear, go find Froggy." And, whalah, E is busy doing two voices, alternating a falsetto Frog and a grizzly Bear. Occasionally P becomes so involved in the play that I hear E cry out in pain... The Little Man having chomped on the irritating Frog, forgetting Papa's fingers lie within...

Well, as I walked the laundry through the kitchen (back in Brooklyn, before our trip to Kansas) one night, there were the boys (seen above), doing... ummm, I don't know. But they were taking whatever it was quite seriously, no? I heard the word "guard" tossed around as I put up the towels...

P gets unbelievably frustrated with his father (they are two peas in a pod and therefore butt heads beautifully), I just hope he realizes at the same time how lucky he is to have such a perfect playmate.

Friday, November 13, 2009

I wish...


P has taken to safety pinning Medium Size BB to his pant leg for even more constant companionship and ease of reach...


Before leaving town, P and I spent an evening hanging out in Unions Square, watching the skateboarders. Feeling inspired, the Little Man flipped, jumped and flung himself from the stairs and bike ramps, eventually landing at the wishing fountain (by the Ghandi statue.) There, a little girl tossed in a penny. P was hot to make a wish too and started to scrabble for a penny from the bottom of the fountain, eventually tossing in one from my bag instead :) As he whirled his arm, he muttered under his breath, but all I caught was the word "BB."

"Whaja wish for?" was met with a "Its a secret, Mama." I patted his head and we headed towards E's office. Not ten steps further, P was gushing. "Ok. I can tell you, Mama. Do you know what I wished for?" Me, head shake. P, uncomfortable squiggle. "I wished for BB to be real."

My heart actually seized up on this one :)

P and BB are suuuuch good friends. Best friends, really. The only catch being that.... BB isn't real. I've gone back and forth and back and forth over the years, swaying between concern (is this totally loony???) to heralding its fabulousness (built in play therapy!) and more. I know its normal, especially for onlies, to have imaginary friends. And for kids to role play with their parents. And for certain dolls/toys to seem larger than life in childhood. (P actually believes BB to be magic. He's not one for anything non-factual, but one day we left BB in the middle of the playroom. When we returned, BB was under Papa's desk. P was beside himself with excitement. I had no explanation for the situation and P, ever the scientist, went through all possible theories and found flaws in each and every one - except for the most obvious. BB is magical, really and truly.)... Anyway, BB combines all of these childhood standards. Nevertheless...well, I don't even know. Just, nevertheless :)

So, here we are back in Kansas, and P and BB are having a blast exploring together. (I'd prove this with pics but.... we forgot to pack the camera card transfer thingamajiggy that gets the pics from the camera to the computer...) So, anyway, P and BB were enjoying their little slice of heaven yesterday, playing with this teeny tiny ladder from an old fire truck. The ladder stands about a foot tall by a few inches wide, with a few rungs, and P was putting it up against anything and everything and then wiggly balancing his way up. He'd then turn and watch BB climb up. Or, snatch it out from under BB as BB started to climb. Its always a toss up :)

As they skipped across the wall they had just scaled, I lost my hold on BB and he fell into the hedge below. And bounced. P looked on in surprise, then quickly swept BB up and tossed him into the hedge again. Again, the doll rebounded without sinking through the leafy top. The Little Man loved it. It was pretty funny to see, especially P's astonishment, so after a few more goes, I started to raise my camera to capture it all on video. As I reached for the camera it all went into slow-mo though, because I heard P mutter "Hey, I want to try that."

Do I raise the camera and capture what is sure to be utterly hilarious, or do I throw myself across the hedge to protect my kid? At the same time that my hands are working on the camera and my mind is working on a decision my mouth is trying to form the words "Stop!" and "It won't hold you!" Of course, the kid is waaaaay too fast for any of this. I accomplished absolutely nothing, no capturing of the kid or the camera and couldn't even spit out a warning, before he'd already taken a flying leap.

Needless to say, he didn't bounce. And it was, honestly, gut busting. I know that sounds awful, but he was fully clothed (read: padded), not very high up (its not a ginormous hedge or anything) and its a really leafy bush. By the time he cast a confused glance my way (wha? I didn't go boinga?) I was, well, already busting a gut. He instantly grinned too, seeing the humor in the situation. Then he shrieked, "BB!! Did you see that?!!!"

Ahhh, one of the pitfalls of having a 10 ounce, fluffy best friend. He bounces when he pounces on a privet. The Little Man, not so much....

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

A video free life...

I know this is in no way related to anything I mentioned in the previous post, but its been brewing for a while now. We've been video free for a little over three months here, and its about time for another babblingly, boring blog post anyway, so... ;) (Really, there's no way to sum up the whole subject in one post, but that won't stop me from trying...)


I don't know if I've mentioned it or not, but whole life unschoolers trumpet the tv. Along with giving kids the space to listen to their own minds (research what excites them) and bodies (eat what they want (in a well informed environment!), sleep when they want etc), the kids generally watch what they want, when they want, too. And this works well for many. But I've also read posts of woe on the unschooling boards from the moms of kids that are decompressing all day, every day, in front of the tube. I also hear the standard reply. Join them in their joy. Observe what they are learning. Relax and they will too.... I've read all of the material, I get the philosophy. I also get the Waldorfian demonization of screen time. The consumption and anti-marketing issue (Watch this trailer for Consuming Kids, the Commercialization of Childhood, its a fascinating five minutes). And the middle road theory. And the research that says its addictive. That it causes ADD. The theory that it isn't addictive. That it changes brain patterns. That it will make our brains evolve in new ways. That it will make us brain-dead. That it will make us jump into ponds. The list is endless...

Cuz there's a lot of material out there on "screen time" these days. Much more than in the early '70's. Both E and I came from families that embraced the boob tube. Unlimited viewing, hampered only by school time and activities galore. Our busy parents enjoyed watching something in their downtime, the large box (sans remotes in those days!) dominating both of our family rooms growing up. So, while neither of us grew up lolling in front of the small screen (school, music lessons, friends and sports as natural deterrents) it was a constant, benign presence, peacefully available without any shameful connotations. (I had a few friends with strict one hour per day policies and thought that highly barbaric ;)

So I appreciated growing up without screen stigmas. It was just never an issue in our house. Nevertheless, our college dorm rooms didn't feature any viewing equipment. And we were always too busy studying, working or having fun to ever sit in front of the common space TV during college. So, it disappeared from our lives at age 18, never to really reappear....

Because once married, we made the conscious decision to forgo the time sucker. We started with a family loaner (both families were quietly appalled that we would live sans small screen) that slowly accumulated more and more dust. There were too many books to read, too many projects to complete, too many interesting discussions to be had. And after four years without the box, it seemed kinda silly. Contrived. The news was abysmally inaccurate. Granted, we were limited by bunny ears, there are bits of interest and even intelligence floating in over the more expensive waves ;) But we realized we wanted something else on that particular shelf, that there really wasn't any room in our lives anymore for the telly. So, when in need of entertainment or an artsy infusion, we would happily flounce off to the theater instead. Our news came from various online sources lacking in funding issues ;) We weren't anti TV, we just didn't need one ourselves.

And that was the world P was born into. The child, of course, was busy being a baby, and nonplussed on the subject.

Then he turned two and received a video for his birthday. He sat with rapt attention, viewing cartoon animals bobbing in front of his baby face. He barely blinked. Video gifts slowly leaked in over the next two years, but he rarely ever asked to watch anything, leaving our little DVD player gathering more dust. It was a fun novelty for long airplane rides and a godsend for high fevers (his or mine;). As he rounded out his fourth birthday he started to pull out his player whenever the thought struck him. But his preference was always play and I typically took the hint for what it was : P needed more of me. More floor time, less cooking. More book reading, less playdates or park times. It was a big beacon that he was either feeling under the weather or in need of story input. I appreciated such a simple sign. And while unwilling to put down external limits (forbidden fruit syndrome mixed in with consensual living theory), I also wasn't going to suddenly order satellite without a formal request. Unschoolers can trumpet the tube all they want, I still couldn't shake the few hundred ;) plus years of evolution pointing towards sticks and play as the natural learning ground for human children nor all of the various studies and theories I'd read over the years.... So we found a synchronicity that ignored the theories and focused on connection and all was well in our world.

Then, last spring, he found the DVD section at the Mulberry Street Library. Suffice it to say, this exploration was a wild journey for us. E and I trying to find ways to help P navigate the new stresses regular video viewing involved (for example, he would completely stress about returning the videos to the library, leading him to obsessively watch his weekly pick the day it was due. This was metered, a little, by trying Netflix instead. Or there was the new stress of unwanted words and actions suddenly being introduced. They came to him as if the word of god, a solid example of the outside world. Ummmm, sorry, but as I've mentioned before, I have no interest in Pixar mentoring my kid's actions. Nevertheless, there it was and there we were attempting to explain why other's don't perceive the word "stupid" as a neutral term while still attempting to relay that this doesn't mean the Little Man has to feel injured by the words of other's. A slippery and thin line to walk across with a four year old.)

Yet we embraced the newness. P's world was widening and we grinned at his excitement and tried to appreciate the novel talking points. We grinned less as he camped on the couch, barking orders for food, drink, the toilet. His temper seemed shortened. He grumped at us and was unusually demanding and angry whenever (that rare moment) we were busy. Maybe he was going through a growth spurt? Further pondering the change, I felt he wasn't getting his usual level of connection with us, his new passion usurping our usual roles as Center of the Universe.

Workarounds were again embraced. The old approach of more stories and cuddle time wasn't cutting the mustard. We spent hours reading. I tried harder to view his new loves with him, to meet his needs for connection in the space he was currently ensconced. (Honestly, this was near torture for me. I'm going on almost 20 years without a TV and a reintroduction by Clifford the Dog is enough to turn anyone off the stuff. And it didn't work anyway. The insane ability to focus that P inherited from his father prevented that...)

But I wanted P's video viewing to be about him, not about me or my worries or my fears or some study's shaky conclusions. I'd had my chance to watch whatever I wanted when I was a kid and I decided to happily walk away from it as an adult for a multitude of reasons. I have some reeeeally strong opinions about the business of television and the marketing of our children. But this was all stuff I could share with E, leaving P to his own joys.

If only it had been joyous, I woud have kept believing that story, too. But after a couple of months, there was no denying it anymore. P had became noticeably out of whack. I had recognized a difference when he first started watching stuff, but since we typically pulled out the DVD player while traveling or sick, I had always chalked the post show wonkiness up to those factors. But we weren't sick. Or traveling. And it wasn't new anymore either. He wasn't happy after he watched a show. He was quite obviously agitated in fact. Jumpy. Grumpy. Food plates, couch cuddles, debriefing sessions, wrestling breaks, nothing seemed to be mediating his media madness.

So we had a long chat, the kid and I. I told him what I observed and asked if he felt it too. He did. I asked if he wanted to hear my history with television. He was excited (he adorably loves hearing stories about E and I:) I asked him if he wanted to know why I choose not to watch television. He did. We sat at the table, talking about our reactions, our likes, our irritants. We talked about different studies and different people's opinions. Approaches friends take, family takes, and what sort of approach our family should take. Because it was obvious, even to the four year old, that something needed to change.

And so he decided to give it up at home. To have our home space be about connection and play and family. I know watching a show together can bring connection to lots of people (E and I included), it just didn't work that way for P. At least not right now. And some people are really relaxed by video viewing. This was also untrue for P (and me, actually, too!) It was uncomfortably stimulating for him. It was also uncomfortably expansive for him. I've mentioned before how much P takes in, how very little he filters. We positively cannot listen to NPR or any news stations with P around, he will spend the rest of the day worrying about wars and the carjacking in California. He will quiz us about that one drug the elderly shouldn't take. And who is elderly. And when will he be elderly. And will there be dangerous drugs for him at that time?

Movies are the same for him. He wants to know why there is a villian. Why someone would do something "wrong." Our experience with Wall-E pretty much said it all on this subject. But just to be clear, he wasn't checking out Star Wars or The Omen here. I'm talking Toy Story, people. P was absolutely mortified that Hero Buzz pushed the villain down an elevator shaft. The crowning glory? The villain claims to be Buzz's father, Star Wars style. P was beside himself with fake laughter and pointed questions as he uncomfortably replayed that scene over and over again, attempting order and sense. But why wouldn't Buzz know who his father was? Why would he push him off of the elevator? Why was his father trying to hurt him? Do fathers really try to hurt their kids???? And he would replay the scene again. This could look, to the outside observer, as if the child was actually enjoying the show, couldn't get enough of it. Not so. It upset him greatly and he was watching it again in hopes of making some sense out of it all.

Yah, I know lots of kids watch the stuff and laugh. I know.

So, once the regular brain stimulant was removed along with the regular injection of intense themes, the Little Man settled back into his life of luxury. His DVD player is in plain site, along with his video collection. We've gone to the library countless times in the last three months. Yet he has never, not Once, said he wanted to check something out. During the first week or two, when I would start dinner and he would notice my missing spot on the floor, he would mention missing movies. But in a nostalgic, that filled my time, sort of way vs an actual want. Because they had, in the last few weeks, started to fill in his time. Instead of painting or playing when I had to shower or vacuum, he would just turn on his portable tube. Without any effort on my part, the damn thing had accepted the role of vacuous babysitter. And the child had grown (surprisingly quickly!) accustomed to never filling in his own space. Once those spaces returned, he filled them beautifully and joyfully. I honestly don't know if it was this return to productivity and explosion of creativity that brought him peace or the removal of something he found overly stimulating and confusing. Either way, the whole family has benefited from his decision, P first and foremost.

Meanwhile, we offered to take him to the movie theater whenever he wanted, to have that option available in case he ever felt a void. We all felt that if it was something special, out of the house, it might work. And we wanted to support his decision while helping him to feel a sense of abundance rather than loss. That he could make such a decision without feeling deprived or unable. "Ponyo" (a Little Mermaid adaption by Miyazaki) came out a few weeks later. We had all loved "My Neighbor Totoro" with its appropriate themes and gorgeous animation, so we chatted about it extensively, watched the previews, and decided to go for it. He was excited on the way in. He was visibly upset on the way out, burying his head in my hair, refusing to talk for twenty minutes :( But he claimed to like it, to want to see it again... So a few weeks later we did. His response was watered down, but confusion still reigned. I understood. A little girl leaves her family for a new one. The father "tries to keep her in a bubble" (P's translation) and is menacing. The mother is an absentee goddess. (This, from the child's perspective. From the adult's it makes more beautiful, complicated sense.)

So we continued with our video free life. Nevertheless, I couldn't quite kick the feeling that he had given it all up too easily. He's so swayed by my thoughts, could I have, inadvertently, removed something he loved, shamed him away from something he needed to explore? So E and I offered on different occasions to take him to a couple of other shows we thought he'd like. Every time, P chose to play instead. He showed moderate interest in "Where the Wild Things Are" after two friends chatted it up. I went to preview it and knew almost immediately he would hate it (the kid bites the mother and then runs off, this would be entirely unacceptable to The Little Man ;) So I reported back and he agreed it was not his cup of tea, for now...

So here we are. Newly minted at 5, right about when I thought videos would be making a bigger and bigger footprint in our lives and we've gone the opposite direction. And, surprisingly, quite happily so :)

Sunday, November 8, 2009

Five is Fab too...




A lot has happened in the last two weeks. P lost his first (known) relative, had his first real birthday party, trick-or-treated in Brooklyn for the first time, trick-or-treated without me for the first time, started sleeping without me for the first time (with E instead), was overwhelmed by his first mob, and then flew to Kansas. Less novel playdates and lovely afternoons of joy (and occasionally confusion) separated all of these milestones. And a few more days will probably separate this post from more descriptive posts :) I just wanted to stop in and say it: P is 5.

He's been five for almost a week now. When asked, he says it feels just like four ;) And truth is, its just as sweet so far. He woke up on his birthday and noticed our new toilet paper hanging in the bathroom. The new grocery store sells a different brand promising to save the environment than the last one did, this one with a raised flower print. P has only ever seen plain potty paper. He unrolled a bit and held it out to me "Mama! Oh, Mama! This is Gorgeous! Isn't it beautiful! I love it!" It is in these moments that I'm suddenly confused as to how the small creature in front of me can ever heighten my hackles....

I wish I had birthday pics to share, but the shots are stuck on my camera until the transfer card is unearthed here in Kansas.... Therefore, one must pretend the very nearly five year old four year old shown above is, actually, five ;) Nonetheless, he did spend an hour watching this spider with me a few days before the Bday, and again after the bday, so its fairly factual ;) He's quite enamored with this large beauty (though BB was mortified to be held so close, separating window or no) and P has high hopes it will remain in his window until his return from Kansas.... And here I thought everything would seem so passe to a five year old, so very been there done that. Silly me. The kid is still smack dab in the awe stage, which is so awe inspiring to witness. I can honestly say it. I love five. Too :)