Children's Museum of Manhattan

We joined P's buddy Malek and his mama at the Children's Museum of Manhattan on Friday. This place is Amazing. P Loves the letter eating dragon. He's focused on it the last few trips, but this time he really spread his love everywhere - for Five Hours!

It was busy, as it always is, the place is unbelievably popular (Gwen Stefani's kid was in the throng). Never a big fan of leaving my side in kid infested crowds, P attached himself to my hand for about the first 4 hours and then found his independence during the last hour. (I believe this squarely fits the "hard to transition" label for 3 year olds...)

He dressed as a fireman and drove the fire truck for ages. He played shop with some other 3 year olds. The sand table was practically a spiritual experience for him because he's missed his dirt pile so much this winter. We built foam block walls and crashed them and pushed and pulled millions of knobs and dials. He found a porcupine puppet that he fell in love with. Perched on his shoulder, he chatted with it, grabbing it for the occasional hug. At one point he looked very seriously into the porcupine's eyes and declared "I'll never forget you. I'll always remember you." The visiting Greek mythology section was a highlight for P, but he was pretty disappointed Theseus and the Minotaur weren't featured. Fortunately the climbable Trojan Horse redeemed the show and he and Malek enjoyed scaling it's insides.

We stayed in the city for dinner to meet E. Tired little P happily ordered a chocolate cheesecake brownie with coconut ice cream to start. Normally a very healthy eater, he has been on an enormous ice cream kick this week (we found some peppermint gelato without food coloring last week and it was a veritable ice cream diet for a few days there). Ah well, at least he's feeding his brain...

Baby brother at the beach

P and I visited the beach and aquarium on Thursday. It was a bit chilly, but he was pretty thrilled to see the ocean again. He and baby brother romped in the sand until P's hands were frozen and he was ready to see the sharks. The "museum" was delightfully vacant of school groups and P had the front seat at each window. He quickly became captivated by the piranhas- they seemed equally drawn to P, moving to whatever side of the tank he was on. Their skin was glittery and gorgeous and P wanted an explanation. I made a silly suggestion about spilled glitter and he decided the obvious answer was bubbles from the aerator stuck to their scales when they swam through the air stream :) He waited forever to watch one of these omnivores chow on another fish, but apparently we missed their feeding time .

We did watch the feeding time for the Papa walrus and the penguins though. He chatted it up with a nice man from Egypt - who was enthralled by P's name. And he really enjoyed the education lady's chat about various fish and coral. Still no go on the sea lion performance - he's always interested initially, but something about it freaks him out every time. We read books all the way home - our usual approach to sitting still on the sub - with Phoenix relishing the death of his naps and stories of sharks and piranhas.

As a side note - today he told me that when he was dead, before he came to this life, he dreamt of lemon flavored lollies :)

99 bottles...

So Ethan sang Puff the Magic Dragon to Phoenix a couple weeks ago. And the child is obsessed. We've made play-doh Puffs, felt Puffs, talked about Puff, you can usually find me answering to the name of Puff, and of course, we've sung Puff till we're blue in the face. Top to bottom, P loves that song. Its his first song to really love other than his baby lullaby (that he still calms to almost instantly - wish he would have done that as a small babe!!) And the first kid's song he's sung. The filmed version below is a little, well, filmed :) He's self-aware and goes much slower than usual and he even tries to throw in a voice quaver at the end like his papa's vibrato :) He's currently singing it to his trains as I type and I think I've heard much more than 99 stanzas of the thing today! I need a beer...

Got giggle?

P was practicing his fake laugh this morning during breakfast. (A boy sported a hearty fake one at a marionette show last week and P's been busy appropriating it.) His guffaw got me giggling and then his laugh went real and we really got going. There's nothing like happy tears in your eyes at 7 in the morning! Or a three year old's silliness. Side note: P's teeth haven't gone the way of the Beverly Hillbillies, the mouth decor is chocolate chip pancakes (hey - they have flax seed meal and oats thrown in!). And I apologize for the Blair Witch like shake, I was chuckling too hard to hold things steady :)

Froggy: The rabble rouser.

Poor E has been MIA for a while due to work. P rarely vocalizes this absence, his sudden neediness says it all. Instead of having 10 minute blips of independent play every couple of hours he is glued to me, demanding a constant playmate. He asks when it will be Saturday. Lots of play food gets set aside for Papa, stories of Papa polar bears get pulled off of the bookshelf. Much to Phoenix's excitement, E was home this weekend and that meant it was due time for Froggy.

Froggy is a soft puppet Grandpapa gave P for his first birthday. E has this special voice for Froggy - one I cannot duplicate - that P adores. He often asks me to do Froggy when E's been working a lot and then sighs, saying "That not how Froggy sounds. That not how Papa doodit." Truth be told, even if I could do the voice, I still couldn't "Do Froggy." Froggy is like E's evil alter-ego. He steals P's toys and runs off with them only to be tackled and bitten by an angry P. He plays guessing games, always guessing incorrectly, causing complete wrath to rush from P. He basically spends his entire existence baiting and wrestling (or being abused by) Phoenix. I've been torn by these dynamics for a while - I was more the "feed the baby" kind of kid than "hang the baby like a pinata" kind of kid. But he loves rough play. And it gives him someone to rail on without anxiety, his aggression can run wild, unhampered by "Please, I take a turn?" But the real reason I've never said anything is, for whatever twisted reason, P loves it. Usually.

Yesterday, still getting over the stomach flu, P was super sensitive. Froggy was being his usual annoying self, taking P's abuse and begging for more when P had had enough. First, Phoenix requsted something sharp, preferably the carpet knife I had been working with, to use on Froggy. Shortly after being placated with the slightly safer screwdriver, he stormed out of the bedroom and announced "I Don't Like Froggy Anymore!" He usually gets mad enough at Froggy to ask me for help, but will be giggling 2 minutes later. This time he continued to storm and stomp and even yelled at E and I over various needs. "Give me Water!" "Where's my car!!!" This was veeeery out of character. While he has Constant demands, they are generally phrased in graciously angelic terms. "Mama, please I have more water?" "Mama, please help me find my yellow truck." Or even just a neutral "Where's my squishy T-rex?" or "Waaaaater." He's been sick, we gave him his space, his water, his car. Gentle attention didn't calm him. Fulfilling his needs didn't soothe him. He was, quite frankly, just out of whack. As he stormed into the playroom an hour later I told E it might be because of Froggy. Could Froggy maybe be just a little nicer? Set a little better example? Could he perhaps be less, um, devious? So Froggy apologized to P, saying he wanted to be best friends. P instantly mellowed and invited Froggy to dinner. And while he's still a bit sensitive even today, he spent the remainder of his evening talking to the bubbles in his bath and telling them how much he loved them :)

And just a note about the video. My mom mentioned she couldn't tell if P was upset at the end or not. This isn't a video from the night he was volatile - here he was begging for Froggy to smack him and laughing afterward :) It just cuts off with a weird P face - Promise!

The climber

Phoenix is a monkey. He climbs when he has extra energy. When he's curious. When he's nervous (until recently, whenever a guest came to visit he would immediately start scaling our bodies, often coming to rest on our heads). His little legs just can't help but to go vertical. He also likes free-fall. Flinging himself from great heights tops his list. Letting a chair he's sitting in tip over works too. Fighting these urges is futile and he's too short for roller coasters, so we try to find games that revolve around him going high and low but not going to the emergency room. This is his new favorite...

Monsters and Minotaurs

Capitalistic implications aside, "The Foutainhead" is so brilliant it made me shiver. To have the integrity and lack of baggage that defined the hero, that so often defines kids. But I consistently found myself wondering how wee ones could grow into adulthood so unscathed, especially with our current cultural parenting paradigm. Roark often reminded me of P, but nowhere more so than in his line "I'm only myself."

Ask P what he wants to be when he grows up and he'll give you a look of confusion and say "Phoenix!" And while some of his friends really enjoy being roaring lions or jumping frogs, P is only P, roaring or jumping. Meanwhile, I am never me. The small, original cast of his toddlerhood has been replaced with a never ending line of impersonations starring friends/family or characters from books and songs. His demands for alternate playmates start at breakfast and ends at bedtime. He misses me occasionally and says "I want Mama now." Usually just to ask me a question, verify some information a character has given him or to ask to nurse. Then its "be Tigger now. No, be Puff mama. Now be Jackie Paper." Yet after all of this, comments like "this way little bunny" aimed at my bouncing son, are met with a wry grin and a "nohhh, silly, I'm Phoenix!"

So when he decided he wanted to be a minotaur the other day I was fairly surprised. He asked me to make him some horns, hooves and scary eyes. Knowing his level of patience with excessive creativity I grabbed what was closest at hand and was shocked when he remained a minotaur for more than 2 minutes. He'd chase me and then magically turn back into Phoenix by lowering his glasses, reassuring me that he wouldn't really eat me :) Then he dressed his "baby brother," aka monster doll, as a minotaur and took the above picture. The plot then changed slightly. Where I was supposed to be scared of Phoenix the minotaur, I was now to menacingly move the Monster minotaur providing P a chance to save us with his toy pretzel stick. I've never seen a pretzel stick wielded with such fury and such natural stabbing motions. It was the first kill game we've ever played and I tried to roll with it, attempting to kill my pacifist tendencies and pretend die with gusto. Looks like "Killing monsters - why children need fantasy, super heroes and make-believe violence" by Gerard Jones will have to be my next book...

Worms!

We have missed our worms. Once you're used to composting all of your food scraps it just feels weird to throw them in the garbage. Our worms all found happy homes during our last move and we've been waiting to house more until P seemed ready to participate. Or at least not be an obstacle :) We think he's ready, so we put together worm bins last weekend and P is sooo excited for our worms to arrive. I'm curious to see if he'll be tentative or torturous with the little guys..

Big Boy

While my computer was having its innards replaced P hit some new notes.

First, he walked to the zoo. This is big for P. My mom loves to tease me about our attachment parenting - as I cook with P on my back - by saying, "Well, it worked. He's attached!" And its true - he Loves to be carried. He will accept stints in the stroller, but would much prefer to be hanging off of our bodies. But as he's passed 30 some pounds this wimpy mama has been hoping for some independent walking. So on an unusually warm and beautiful day we went hiking in the woods across the street. As we wandered more deeply into the park, lifting leaves to see slugs, piling rocks and jumping stumps P decided he wanted to go to the zoo. Great! But no stroller or mei tai.... He said he'd walk and lo and behold the child did it. From one side of the park to the other, all around the zoo and back again he walked and jumped. It felt like a page of his childhood book turned - he seemed sooo big. Especially as he jumped from rock to rock chanting "fuck, fuck, fuck." :) It was his first foray with fuck and he was really working on giving it the oomph it deserved. A back-hoe was working at the zoo and combined with the warmth and lovely walk made for a perfect Brooklyn day.

A few nights later he slept for 10 hours. Straight. Without waking once.

I feel like that needs its own paragraph it is so huge for him. He hasn't repeated it since, but he's gotten close with a some 7 or 8 hour nights. And then he dropped his nap. Just like that. He'd flirted with this for months, skipping a day here or there, but quickly reverting back to happily going to sleep after lunch. I'm pretty psyched. Going into the city for the day is easier, playdates are easier, he wakes up better rested (say, at 5:30 today...) rather than wanting to nurse and nap for hours each morning. He hasn't quite settled on a replacement schedule yet, but its getting there.

And he started taking things apart. My little brother always did this. I love making things, Cash loves taking them apart. P apparently has that gene, the "break stuff to see how it works" gene. Our house is quickly becoming filled with toys that don't quite fit together anymore amongst large piles of removed tires and car bottoms reconstructed into "skateboards." My silly notion of peaceful afternoons spent finger painting have been quickly replaced by the reality of little boy. Fuck, scratch that, I meant Big boy.

Geronimoooo!

So, its cold up here. P does not like the cold. Bad combo :) If he spends lots of time at home he gets, well, ornery. Very ornery. Not in a bad way, of course - a better word might be... curious. He's just trying to figure "something" out using the wiles of his three year old brain. But when the "water balloons on the bathroom floor" experiment (he recently learned about the basilisk lizard that runs on water and he wet the floor down to run on it) passes my comfort zone, something new helps. Helps My sanity, that is, he's perfectly content with flooded floors :)

One such diversion is "Dance Class" (his name). This is basically us thrashing about to music too loud for our neighbors. He climbs to the top of his house and flings himself off into the Sumos below, doing "fancy tricks." This can include a shnazzy jump and slide combo followed by hops to "lily pads" (aka hot pads) or jumping into balloons. Whatever the trick, our Curious George going Geronimo is helping pass the coldest days peacefully. Our neighbors may disagree!

Monkey See, monkey unscrew...

Yay!! My computer is back from the shop and humming along. Gawd I missed this thing....

So we had a couple of friends over for wine and indian food and P chilled with Pooh. It was the first time to try such an evening and the little man seemed to handle things really well. The enormous melt-down at the end of the evening (something that used to be an everyday occurrence but we haven't seen in months) told a slightly different tale but...

He seemed really engrossed in his film and his play so I was surprised the next day when he dug into the recycling bin to grab an empty bottle. He had found a cork on the cabinet and after claiming the wine opener he proceeded to practice his uncorking style. Apparently he had been paying more attention to us the night before than we realized :)

AMNH and Strewing the Arctic

I generally hear 2 worries concerning the unschooling of P. What about socialization (already addressed in a previous post and a fairly dull question since he's around all sorts of people of all ages all of the time) and how will he learn if you don't make him? Some believe children don't have an internal fire to learn, they need to be bribed or pushed into it. Sadly, it seems true that this fire can be squelched in a wide array of ways, but fortunately, also nurtured. In the unschooling community, one such igniter is dubbed "strewing." Basically, you leave new ideas or objects out to ignite their imagination and natural curiosity on a regular basis. While at 3 this doesn't even seem quite necessary for P (anyone who's spent a day with a three year old and their endless procession of "why's" can understand why this is true) we've started strewing as a matter of habit just because he (in his words) "gets a kick" out of discovering new things.

The past 2 weeks we've strewed the arctic. There are some great books out with penguin and polar bear stories. Some just feature the animals with little factual basis, but some have great info mixed in brilliantly with interesting tales and maybe even a glossary. P's learned about the northern lights, the melting polar ice caps, saving energy, the food chain, indigenous peoples, and various arctic animals. His understanding of mammal vs non-mammal has really been strengthened and he seems to be finding a little more peace with the idea that omnivores or carnivores aren't "mean," just necessary in the wild.

This was all supplemented by lots of pretend play with his little arctic animal toys (a polar bear, a narwhal, an arctic wolf, various whales, a fur seal, a walrus, penguins and puffins etc) where some ate the others, some helped one another and some gave birth and nursed. I knew the theme was resonating with him when I wore a white shirt one day and he said "your shirt looks like the arctic mama." :)

We also watched a video from national geographic about the polar bear and the walrus. The footage was amazing and P grabbed all of his local wildlife to watch with him and then act out scenes. It was a much more rewarding experience than any Pixar film that leaves him slack-jawed in awe for 90 minutes. There were so many questions that turned into plots and plans for the week following the show.

We froze small toys in ice cube trays and then let them float like icebergs in the sink. We watched them melt to see the ice turn to water and the water level (imperceptibly) rise. We danced to music like polar bears trying to break the ice looking for seals. We fished off the dock of his house with a magnet string and S hook fish to feed either his seal or me as a Neanderthal (he can't bring himself to even pretend to eat meat!)

Then we went to the Natural History Museum again, taking his cousin Sean this time, and the week's theme seemed to really bring a lot of the displays to life for him. Polar bears seem so fierce, but they can't easily take a walrus? Standing beside the two windows he could see that a walrus really is double the size of the bear, a fact he had heard but was now experiencing too. It was so fun to see him put it all together. He could often stand and absorb a display for much longer than I - I would have to remind myself to not interrupt his study with "Oh! Look at that one over there!" In fact, as I breezed past some dinosaur bones he asked me why there was a balloon in one. I had no idea what he meant until I looked for a good long while and saw a white helium balloon, floating inside a rib cage. And as I saw children hushed and rushed from exhibit to exhibit in their school groups I was so thankful that P had the time to make his discoveries and keep his fire burning bright - if I could just shut my mouth and be still :)

P.s. The top photo is his favorite "Squid and the Whale" display.

A Narwhal!

P helped me make tortillas for dinner tonight. Homemade tortillas are so yummy, but I haven't made them since P was born! We made extra dough so the kid could fulfill his flour fetish. After rolling most of them out for me he asked to keep two balls to play with. He then busied himself with shapes, stories and questions while I cooked the tortillas. Then, "Mama! Look! What's this?" Ummm, I hate these kind of questions because I never know the Right answer. Adding a level of difficulty to such a question is the fact that art-wise I've really followed the hints in the book "Young at Art." Research shows that letting children operate abstractly (artistically, at least) during their youth helps them in numerous ways. So P has never been shown a smiley face or had a paper plate made into a gawd awful turkey. And therefore he rarely copies animals into clay or faces into chalk. He just scribbles and discovers texture, form, shape etc. And his work Looks pretty abstract :) So tonight I turned to see a large, longish blob, dotted with tiny holes to achieve a polka dot look, finished with a toothpick stuck in one end. "Gee, honey, umm..." And he saved me. "A Narwhal Mama!!" And I think this was the first time his figurative art achieved its goal - it actually looked like the animal named. Then I had to chuckle that a wacky creature like a narwhal was his first figurative sculpture :)

Holiday Confusion

I think the holidays messed with P's head. We don't want P to feel "deprived" of the holiday season that so many enjoy, but we don't want to push (or be pushed into) extreme consumerism either. And neither of us are excited to lie to our child for the first time with that lie consisting of a fat man sneaking into our house in the middle of the night. But we both have such fond memories of the season and want it to be special for P too. So instead of a Christmas day free-for-all (we're not even Christian!) we spread the joy out a bit and celebrated the cold with Winter Solstice, the family on Christmas and then the new with New Year. Each holiday was represented with a gift or two for P and a mellow dinner with loved ones. But every day since Xmas P has asked upon awakening "What day is it today?" Monday. "There a present today?"

God bless the kid, he's an optimist. He's still asking daily, 2 weeks later, if it could, please, possibly be another holiday. Today I tried to describe the calender and tell him that the holidays for the rest of the year are pretty spread out and there aren't too many of them. He had one good question to that ridiculous idea: "Why?"

He was also confused with the concept of having to wait for a present. His gifts came UPS and he saw a couple carried upstairs. Much to his dismay, he couldn't open them. He didn't understand why, if the gift was for him, the gift was in his house, and we had scissors, we couldn't just open it right then and there. Then came the morning of Solstice. Just as he ran for his box Ethan disappeared into the bathroom for a long stint. I tried to coax P to have breakfast first and wait for Papa. This was insulting to him. So he daily presents me with presents; his bulldozer, his fire truck. Then he tells me its my birthday, sings to me and informs me I have to wait until after lunch to open it :)

Magic

Seth came over with some friends and did a magic trick for Phoenix that he Adored. Holding something small in his hand he'd bounce it three times in front off P's face, tossing it over an unsuspecting Phoenix to Alicia's waiting hands. Then as P inspected Seth's magically empty hands, Alicia would pass the item back and Seth could make it reappear out of P's ear. When P requested that it come out of his mouth the next time, Seth obliged. As Seth "pulled" the toy from P's mouth Phoenix grabbed it, asking "Is it wet?" He was miffed as to how it came out of his mouth but didn't have slobber on it.... Because that was obviously the most perplexing part of the show :)

Counting Trains

Typical to his age, P loves trains. He loves to make Long tracks with Long trains and does the cutest "Whoowhoo" and "Chuggachugga" sounds while pushing his engines around. When I told him there were two train exhibits in the city for the holidays he was pretty psyched.

The largest was at the Citcorp building in Midtown. The thing was Huge. An entire victorian building was built in the atrium to house the tracks running with tons of trains. They start in the "city" during the spring and travel up the Hudson through the seasons, ending in a winter wonderland. It was cute to see so many young train aficionados drooling and dreaming at the exhibit's railing. Free, and only up for a few weeks, the operators had to keep the mass of kids moving through at a decent pace so P and I had to go through a couple of times before he was satiated and requested "a cafe." He noticed every little detail and was particularly fascinated by the dimming lights. It was as if the sun was moving across the expanse of tracks, seasons turning to night, followed by tiny sparkling town lights. He also loved the moving backhoe and the itty-bitty man with a hammer, of course!

After noshing some pizza and napping P was ready for the Grand Central train show. Smaller, but more relaxed, he loved standing and staring- for an hour. We also wandered through the train platforms and watched actual trains leave to truly travel up the Hudson. He's done this before, but it seemed to strike him differently this time. He's been trying to understand the passage of time lately, and all of the vocabulary that entails, so he asked a million questions about the pace of different passengers and how soon their train would leave.

Which leads to his other current top confuser: numbers. He likes to throw random numbers into his prose lately (as a faux price, time or train schedule), imitating how often our conversations include the digits he is trying to understand. He sees Ethan's family count objects a lot and imitates that, sometimes with success, sometimes counting the same object twice. He has the verbal string of numbers memorized, but I 'm not sure he really gets the purpose of "counting" yet - anymore than he understands nap versus night or quarters versus dimes. As a label, specific amounts don't seem to hold much weight for him. He will get out his little trains and hook them together. He may count a pile of them on the floor, just for the sake of counting - an end unto itself. But what seems to really matter to him is that when they are put together, they make up a LONG train or a circus train. He has no interest yet in Longer Than; one train having eight cars to another train's seven. While more is definitely more to him in the world of toys, less is still more, because it is at least Something. Its a lovely time in his life where expectations of More Than or Sooner don't really exist because it is all in the Now and all New and therefore More than he knew just before now. But I'm guessing this period is ending because it has entered his play - and with it will come an accuracy for nap/night and numbers. Until proficiency hits though, I will grin like a chesire cat each time I say 5 minutes and he tries to manipulate his little hands to hold up just three fingers and asks "That train leave in this many minutes?"

Messy little man

Messes don't exist for Phoenix. He overturns his book bin to become a zoo cage only to realize the spilled books are all lily pads and there is a mad crocodile loose in the river. As he hops and slides on said lily pads the mess grows and he grins. Most of the time this is charming. Instead of eating his muffin the other day, he gave it to his dinosaurs. But they couldn't just nibble the damn thing, they had to stomp on it first and then graze. The other night he found the baking soda in the fridge and created a snow storm on the table. Still charming. Dried rice, millet and beans were added for texture and digging options. Trucks and excavators joined the fray. His race car started doing laps and spraying dried bits loaded with powder to the floor. Then off he tromped to the other room to grab more toys, trailing white foot prints across the carpet that had been vacuumed, literally, 5 minutes before. When he realized I was no longer charmed he took the vacuum from me and cleaned the entire mess up in his own, charming, way.

P gets clean

Phoenix will go days, many days, without feeling the need for a bath. Then, suddenly, he'll be in the tub 5 times in 2 days, pruning out to his heart's content. And on that rare, precious, occasion, he'll even suds up his hair.

Testing Quote

I recently read a great quote concerning testing. Every teacher I know bemoans Bush's policy and most parents I know roll their eyes at all of the ridiculous testing in schools. It isn't working. This pretty much gets to the bottom of it:

"If you think you can improve education with a test, you must also think you can fatten a calf by weighing it."

I really appreciate this as an unschooling family too. Watching P and hearing some knew knowledge spout from him does feel warm and fuzzy; He's Learning! He's so smart! And other parental pride based bull. But really, the vital part in P's life is what P knows, not that I know he knows x, y or z... Sure, knowing where a kid is (can he converse? can he read yet?) developmentally is paramount to interacting with them. But really, I can learn more about P by playing with him than quizzing him or having him fill in small circles with a number 2!

Phoenixisms

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Comments and a Question

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

Peace, Porridge and Peter and the Wolf

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

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

Three: A Social Milestone

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

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

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

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

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

Unschooly Quote

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

Puzzles, Puzzles Everywhere

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

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

Grams and Gramps and the NHM

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

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

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

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

P's Pals

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

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

Phoenix finally curses

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

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

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

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

Memories of Kansas

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

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

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

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