Squid Stew

After running a fever for a few days and feeling all around crummy, P decided to peel off his p.j's and take a tub. Thank gawd :) He doesn't bath that often, but when he does he Really soaks. He made squid and frog stew from his squishy animals this time, greatly enjoying snipping the squishy stuff with his scissors while soaking. When he was completely pruney he took his stew base to his kitchen and added lots of wooden vegetables and butter. Its funny, when he spends his toy money he is inevitably lured by the brightest, loudest car gimmick in the store. Yet at home he constantly plays with his kitchen, play-doh, flour, sword, castle and monsters and usually leaves the junk in the drawers... except to cut it up :) Ahhh.. commercialism and advertising...

Pirate Monsters

P was under the weather all weekend (104 fever on Sunday -poor kid!) On Saturday he was just suspiciously slow moving, so we stayed around the house for some spring cleaning. He spied an umbrella and hatched a pirate plan. But then he thought Baby Brother needed a boat and Bat Mac too.... Soon he had commandeered all of the umbrellas we own (he surprised me with a memorized, itemized list). We couldn't find one umbrella so there was a spare monster, much to his dismay. Then Hororay decided he was sea sick, so the rest settled in to sail around the sharks...

Pirate Stories

Phoenix eschews books at bedtime in lieu of personal drama so E tells P a story almost every night. They remind me of the choose your own adventure books in the 80's as P picks the plot and then twists it to suit his needs. Last week we visited the Transit Museum with P's buddy, Benny, and his mama, Jo. The boys had a good time until the fun police (aka overzealous and bored security guard - more on that another time) killed P's joy. Fortunately, our fun could easily be moved to Dumbo for a little park time. The playground there takes a pirate ship shape and Benny and P had a great time going up (to other mother's chagrin) and down the slides and swinging on the tire swing. So that night P sat aside his previous plot and placed himself, Benny, Mama, Papa and Baby Brother on a pirate ship. (E tried to tell P a story once that left us at home and P said "That's illegal. Kids have to be with them mamas or papas or nannys." :) Six days later and Pirates Benny and Phoenix are still the stars every night. Last night I heard P adding to the story:

E: So Phoenix and Benny quickly climbed up the ladder of their ship and "
P: and the shark climbed up too!
E: hahaha. Sharks can't climb up ladders.
P: Sure them do. The shark climbed up the ladder.
E: How does a shark climb up a ladder? They don't have hands...
P: They use their fins!
E: Oh, of course. So the shark climbed up the ladder with his fins....

The picture. ( I'd love to have a pic of P and Benny at play, but lugging our old, slow-to-focus 80 lb camera around doesn't thrill me so we only have slow-moving home shots for a while :) And no, I didn't dress the child! P has always been very particular in his clothing choices. So much so that some have suggested sensory integration issues. Nah, he just likes it the way he likes it :) Soft was the previous prerequisite. Then the pictures became important too (sea life and vehicles) and now the entire outfit is often important. Some mornings he slides on anything soft, others he has very, um, creative ideas as to dressing. Its an interesting process to watch... He's also started creatively combining foods. And I don't mean eating a casserole - that's never been a problem - tho he does like simple foods too. I mean, stacking dried corn on chocolate chip cookies for a snack. Dipping his cheesy noodles in ketchup. Then in his vanilla shake (surprisingly yummy). The experiments with success rates are repeated - he now systematically adds the dried corn to his cookies...

The things they say....

Hearing what pops out of P's mouth/head is fabulously fascinating (to me that is, I think waiters, friends etc. find his ramblings slightly less, um, necessary :)) For example, yesterday morning I was beckoned with "Mama, come look! My poop looks like giant asparagus!" And it did.

Then yesterday, after a long afternoon out with friends we were making our way home. His buddy got a huge pretzel from the park vendor and then P wanted one. Because we don't live in suburbia, but daily pass street vendor after store after street vendor in NY, we finally had to decide on a "one treat per outing" limit (except for the grocery store, our bag's the limit there). We Hate limits. They feel, well, limiting :) And they are like a big stop sign for connectedness, but our budget demands Some attention so... We leave the house and P can pick his one fancy from whatever store and all is well. Usually this is a smooth subject. Occasionally there's a little disappointment followed by P reasoning, "Next time!"

But yesterday, it was dinnertime, he was hungry And tired. Silly mommy reminded him he'd already chosen his treat for the day and offered it or any other snack from our bag instead.

Whoops. Massive miscalculation. Beyond Yoav happily chomping on His pretzel, P'd been challenged a Lot at the playground and was less resilient than usual. And did I mention he was tired? Instead of graceful acceptance, or minor disappointment, things went the way of pummel mama and fall apart. It was a sad scene and I validated and hugged and we eventually moved on. Or so I thought. But as we walked the last block home P said "If I kill you guys, I can do whatever I want."

Ouch. I'm sure more experienced parents than I could just nod at this and carry on, but this was the first time P has Ever said anything "mean" to me. And I think I could have easily managed our first foray into verbal anger had it been "I don't like you." But to totally do away with me? Wow. Instead of affirmation of his feelings he received a silent, nauseous mama. I didn't want to shame him for his inability to "properly" reason through his frustration - and I knew I didn't have anything productive to say ;) so I just concentrated on (holding my tears in my eyes and) carrying him, his bike, my scooter and his bag of stuff to the stoop. Then I thought a little humor might help so I turned to him and asked "Really P? Which would you rather have, me or a pretzel?" Big smile from me, the answer so obvious. I can hear my mother cackling. That's right. The three year old chose the pretzel without a moment's hesitation. When he asked me to carry him up the stairs I felt like the three year old - it was All I could do not to suggest his pretzel carry him...

Yah, I guess neither of us were feeling very resilient :) As I started dinner I did the regular routine of offering P objects that would go into the dinner. "Tomato? Olives? Cheese? P?" Instead of teasing me back with his usual response "I'm going to eat ALL of it!" he said "That ok Mama. You guys eat first, I'll just have whatever's left-over." If killing me off didn't break my heart all the way, this finished the job :) Nothing like a three year old trying to make amends the only way he can fathom.

Only time will tell if he was just "off" yesterday, or if he really isn't feeling like his needs are honored enough on a daily basis. I'll be doing an autonomy check around here and hope that any improvements we can manage will keep me alive :)

The Tribeca Film Festival

We went to this Film Festival kid's fair last year and had an amazing time. There was the most fabulous marionette show that positively Entranced P (and me!). Musicians performing on each block, stilt walkers, sandcastle builders, chalk painters, kite flyers, a kid extravaganza. This year we headed back for more fun, planning to join Uncle Seth at the festivities. But P wanted Nothing to do with it. Nothing. We walked a block of the fair to meet Seth, thinking P'd have a change of heart once Seth was on the scene, but no, he was Definitely not interested.

Fortunately, there's a great park nearby and a bike path, perfect for scooting, that leads there. Off we went, skateboarding and scooting to the Hudson. We paused and watched the water move and then went to the sculpture garden to play. P Loves this plaza, full of whimsical bronzes by Tom Otterness, chess boards with weird looking creatures (Seth said cat, P said sea creature) and bronze dogs chained to the drinking fountain. P wandered around chatting to himself, enjoying the details for a while and then bam! It was Seth time. They climbed, they jumped, they sat at the chess board. P was in heaven having his best buddy around for a such a good time.

After a while we scooted on to the playground and enjoyed the trampoline. (P's been permitting playgrounds quite a bit more lately, just in time for spring!) Seth and E played monster while P and I ran on the equipment. The path that winds from the playground, along the water, presented us with an enormous barge that P devoured with his eyes. He had a million questions and really enjoyed just Looking. Then E spotted some sort of monument (P's scooter was moving too fast for me to read) that had a twisting, turning, tunnel filled climb up to an overlook that was Gorgeous. Grasses were blowing in the wind and the water was laid out below framing... Leonardo Di Caprio :) We're fabulously big geeks and get a huge kick out of star sightings :)

Then as we zoomed to the southern tip of the city to catch our sub we wound up in some garden with a hedge maze. Phoenix's fascination with Labyrinths and Minotaurs positively feasted on this experience. E and Seth sweetly took him back through it, P grinning like a wildman. Afterwards, we followed the trails to the sub, to dinner, to gelato, to home. It was one of those perfect days that just Flow.

Children's Museum Of Manhattan

So I promised a video a couple of weeks ago.... There's (supposedly) one on youtube now. The video quality is poor, but I'm not sure how to upload it with better numbers, and E is in bed :) At any rate, it was a little long for blogger so we'll see how youtube works for you (mom) :) Here's the link: You Tube Video

Park Days

There's a solid group of homeschoolers here in Brooklyn and many meet in the park on Thursdays to play. P gets to play with his buddy Benny (and Milo and his brothers came once too!) while climbing trees and throwing leaves. Its a good time. Benny's mom was sweet enough to send us some photos since our camera is under the weather.

The Philosopher

P tends to hang out with me when I cook or do dishes (which seems to fill about a third of the day). About once a day he'll wander the playroom instead, entranced in his imaginary world, but usually he prefers to interact. If we are baking, his interactions are baking based. He Loves to pour ingredients, use the mixer, the whisk, the spatula, stir, measure, check muffins with a toothpick. (This week alone he has made home made caramels, orange bran muffins, beer pizza dough and multi-grain pancakes.) Of late, knives hold a particular place in his heart so he happily helps chop now too. He slices, fries and seasons his own mushrooms (a favorite of his) and assists with the veggies on most every meal. The floor space under his ladder holds the daily proof of his help, hopefully his fingertips won't :)

But washing dishes isn't his thing. So he chats. It seems to be his time to bring up issues he's been chewing on for a while. Like yesterday:

P: What happens when you get off of the earth, mama?
Me: You mean outer space?
P: Um, no? When you get off the earth?
Me: You mean, like climb a tree, your feet are off of the earth? Or do you mean, fly in a plane, so you are off of the ground or earth?
P: No, mama. (he smiled at me like I was a moron) That still the earth. When you go up, and then you off the earth.
Me: Ok. Well, you go up off the earth and reach the clouds, and then you go farther and you are still in the earth's atmosphere, but then you go farther and you're in outer space, or the milky way, or the universe, or whatever you want to call it.
P: Oh, Ok.

Then, about 30 minutes later:
P: When you go up, up, up and off of the earth, its dark. Why mama?
Me: When you are in outer space?
P: Yes. Why it dark in outer space? The suns up there.

I have no idea how he knows its dark in outer space (the night sky?). Or how he reasoned that it shouldn't be, due to the sun. Last week his breakfast questions brought on a discussion of the planets, the sun, orbit, night/day, and the seasons (aided by an orange, a tomato, a grape tomato and soapy dish hands), but this still seemed like quite a leap. At any rate, this week's question introduced cloud cover and reflection...

Then today P was trying to get his lineage down, again. He was listing how he came from my belly and I came from Grams' belly and Grams came from Great Grams' belly. I was nodding along when he suddenly stopped and asked
P: Mama! How we all get here when there was no mama?

P was pretty blown away by his thought. He was having trouble wrapping his mind around a baby, without a mama. But you have to have a baby to grow into a mama to have a mama to have a baby! I was pretty blown away that he had discovered a chicken/egg scenario that I didn't question until, oh, never. So another evolution discussion ensued. When we got down to the nitty gritty of evolving from germs he was thrilled. But, he wanted to know, where did the germ come from? And he had us there. Pleased nonetheless, he summed up his history of the world as gleamed from the AMNH, mixed with his new knowledge...
P: A long time ago, there were mammoths and sloths and tigers. And a long, long, loooong time ago, there no people, but dinosaurs! And the T-rex... hehe! The T-rex could catch some germs!

Alright, so not quite Kant....

ABC, one, two thwee

Last summer P got a new digger for the sandbox. As we strolled away from the toy store he pointed to the side, at the letters, and read the word "CAT." I chuckled that my two year old's first sight reading was the name of his favorite tractor brand, but knew we were a long way from Really reading. He did some other sight words on signs and such, but letters really held no interest for him at the time. Read? Nah. that's what mama's are for.

Well, the times are a changin'. P's interest in letters has been curiously piqued lately, but he adamantly avoids any type of obvious explanations. Its a solo expedition for him and he's not interested in a copilot. Occasionally, after making a letter with his necklace chain (a common way of "drawing" for him) he'll say "Mama, look, an M" but I'm otherwise not included. He also started singing the ABC's over and over last month. We were out one day and Another stranger asked him if he was off to school next year. Not P's favorite question :) He told her he didn't have to go, he already knew his letters. Then I had my idiot-mom Aha moment. He had recently asked why kids go to school and I kept my response simple "To learn things, like the alphabet or how to read." Apparently, P translated this so that learning the alphabet skipped him straight to graduation, thus no need for him to Ever go to school, so he took it upon himself to learn the ABC's. But his formidable independence combined with his inherent distaste for being quizzed (something I've blogged about before) leaves me in the dark on his current spelling status. Does he really know his letters? We read a Lot, he has a letter puzzle he enjoys and last month when I was sick he watched a Letter Factory video with great enthusiasm...

And then we were at the store last week (mailing our poor camera to the factory) and he pointed and asked "Mama, why that clock say UPS?" Ahh-hah! So he does know some letters...

Then we went to the library. P grabbed a counting book with sharks on the cover (shark lover that he is). Books with even the slightest schooly scent always seemed to irritate him in the past, but not so this time. He happily sat and counted everything in it, correctly, and without my input. Kinda like the reading, he could list his numbers last summer, but it wasn't really counting, just memorization. But just through living, no quizzing, no exaggerated examples, no lessons, he's figured out how to actually count.

And then I realized he's doing simple math too. The other day, he took one of our three remaining cookies and wandered into the playroom while I washed the dishes. I decided a cookie would make the dishes more enjoyable :) so I ate one too. Later, we were leaving and he wanted a cookie for the walk but was surprised to find only one cookie in the jar. "Mama," he said to me, "when I took a cookie there was three. Now there only one. You eat the other cookie?" Its such amazingly simple math that I hadn't even thought of it as such, but really, there it is, subtraction through living. And Important subtraction too - you Gotta know where your cookies go :)

Picture Problem

We've had some lovely playdates and outings lately, but our camera mysteriously died so I have no pictorial proof. I generally blog by photos, so I'm having a hard time remembering what we've been up to! So other than a couple of old posts I need to finish up with new pics, I'm going to link old pics to anything new (just for you mom!) Hopefully someone in Illinois is feverishly working on a much loved camera right this minute ...

Scooters and Suck it, Alfie Kohn

A friend of a friend, a poetess, in an attempt to funnel her creativity, post child, has developed the "momku." She's got some great one's here: http://twitter.com/momku -but this one really had me rolling on the floor:

Potty training broke / Me. Bribing with jelly beans / Suck it, Alfie Kohn

First off, I love the momku idea. I don't know how it is for someone who does, say, real estate, and then becomes a stay-at-home-mom, but us artists types seem to have a hard time laying our passions totally aside. Some superstars write a couple of novels while homeschooling their progeny, others of us make cloth castles, blogs or momkus.... But its gotta go somewhere. Do ex-real-estaters feel compelled to drive around looking at properties? Does everybody jones for what they did in their past life?

But I seriously digress. Alfie Kohn. So in following the rabbit hole to unschooling, Alfie Kohn was a bright neon sign, pointing us towards societal strangeness. His book, Unconditional Parenting, is just Beyond. (Here's a great little article that sums up some of his studies: http://www.alfiekohn.org/parenting/gj.htm) In a nutshell, he talks about kids doing things for innate reasons rather than getting a "good job" or a piece of candy. Pooping on the potty for the sake of not sitting in shit, rather than for sucking on the skittle. He backs up his points with well formed studies that would sway a Puritan. Of course, at the end of the book you are left without punishments, bribery, or manipulations, however nice they seem. In a no man's land of cluelessness, really. You staunchly believe you should reside in this territory, but you are scared shitless your kid will make serious mayhem without some sort of "approach." Fortunately, Naomi Aldort picked up nicely where Mr. Kohn left off. The thought of actually connecting with your child, respecting that short person's point of view as much as you wish he would respect yours, fills in nicely for the time-outs and naughty rugs. But I digress, again...

So, along with not knowing what a "time-out" even is, P also hadn't heard any "good jobs" from us. When he is pleased with himself he generally says nothing, "see that?" or "I did it!" E and I have spent a lot of inner work killing the "you're so amazing, oh my god i'm so proud of you good job you're the smartest/fastest/cutest" out of us. This of course doesn't mean we aren't thinking it :) we're just attempting to not screw him up with these externalized parental proclamations, lest he forget his destiny is decided by himself rather than the 2 judgmental, smiling morons with lollies. And then the scooter came into our lives.

He's fast. Very fast. People routinely ask how old he is and comment on his agility (perhaps because they compare him to me...) We were flying downhill today over root-riddled sidewalk and I saw a veritable obstacle course in front of us. It was a new path for us and I was cursing the absence of his helmet as he dodged, glided and jumped over the deathtrap. There was no hesitation, no braking, no falling. Not to say he won't bite it again tomorrow, but I'm finding those moments really difficult to keep quiet about. Fortunately, he doesn't seem to need commentary, he sliced through the bumps and kept going without any need for affirmation.

But when his speed, need for independence and traffic converge, silent smiles sometimes don't cut it. When he skirts a crowd and skids to a stop at a busy corner I find the words "well done, thank you" popping out of my mouth. I know kids do it everywhere, everyday, he's no skateboarding prodigy by an means, but as I teeter behind him I'm still impressed he doesn't land in front of a truck. Less used to P's scooter escapades, Ethan is often nervous around traffic. Lately this leads to a number of "good jobs" as E thanks the stars P isn't a pancake. We honestly don't mean to, the adrenaline seems to shoot the stuff straight out our mouths.

And then P repeats us. As I finished a troublesome toy fix the other day P rewarded me with a "well done, mama." E has been blessed by a couple of "good job, papa"'s of late too. I gotta say, its interesting being patted on the head by a three year old. And I find it fascinating that he is actually matching the reward to the right parent. And that he's repeating the stuff after only hearing it a handful of times.

Fortunately, as the scooter becomes a third leg for P, E and I are again taming our tongues. Because really, at the end of the day I'd like him to stop at the corner because he wants to stay alive, not because he's afraid of getting in trouble, losing a lolly or missing a "good job!"




After I blogged about how easy it was to get out of the house lately we didn't leave the house for daaaaays. Mental note from the Universe: accept all as good, stop being so pleased when things go your way, all is well, all is well, all is well. Ok, got it. Nevertheless, can this blog Please not result in P being a pancake? Ugh. Independence and safety collide and it Sucks.

Scooting with Seth

It was an uncharacteristically playground filled Sunday. After playing in the Wash Square sandbox all morning while E worked, we met Seth and his skateboard in Central Park. We rock climbed and scooted and then rode the carousel. I don't know what it is about a carousel that makes me so damn emotional, but it gets me every time. Maybe its the extreme motion sickness, but I get all choked up about how lovely our life is and what a fortunate life P leads, yadi yadi. And what, with the whirring around at the speed of slow-light, with blooming lilac bushes and skyscrapers as the streaming background to your kid's face, really, the effect is nothing short of magic.

I don't know if P feels the magic, but I do know he can't pass a carousel without riding it :) So after some spinning, we scooted/skateboarded to the park's huge playground and Seth, E and P rock climbed and played some more. P's adoration for his Uncle is unbelievable and this made his month. There's a fabulous hill-dip combo with sproingy-soft flooring to ride, skate, scoot and roll on there. P made fast friends with an older roller-blader who even asked to push P on the swings. He was a really sweet kid and it was the second time that day that P made buddies on the playground. Back at Wash Square an 8-9 year old named Austin became enormously enamoured with Phoenix and Baby Brother. He saw P burying and kicking BB while I did the squeeling/complaining that is Baby Brother's mainstay and thought we were a virtual Laurel and Hardy. He happily helped bury BB, looking around like we were doing something illegal. Then he really got into it. He started chucking the poor doll everywhere, stomping on him, sticking him in buckets and sitting on him, instructing me to make him scream. His pear shaped body put a lot more strain on our pink pal than P's little butt , but the image of our closeted back-up BB helped me stay calm. P, meanwhile, was totally chill. I don't know if it was the kid's size/age or the fact that he seemed as happy to beat BB up as P does, but P was fine sharing something that he generally tackles anyone for touching.

On the way home from Central Park we passed a Huge hill that ended sharply and curved back up. P wanted the larger riders to tackle the slope, setting a safe example. He thought about it, but I think he realized this was even steeper than the one that tossed him, so he declined a descent. Seth went down for one more go and, without the ease of brakes like on our scooters, he did a number on his elbow. P yelped and ran down to him :) It was pretty cute to see him so concerned for someone. After we bandaged his arm, Seth mentioned he thought the fall had gotten his ass too. P clucked his concern and told Seth to let him have a look, walking behind him to pull down his pants :) Ahhh, the social innocence of a three year old.

Our Dumbo Day

What a lovely week! The weather was Perfect. Sans nap (necessitating a mid-day trip home) and sans cold (necessitating, well, a different climate) P is perfectly content to play inside for the morning and then outside all afternoon. I felt like we finally reached homeostasis. The right amount of "out" has led to a more peaceful "in" and an easier time of it getting out. He's also been fairly willing to meet up with friends in the afternoon. The success of these meetings has greatly varied :) and he often reminds me that he'd rather play "with just you, mama, and papa." I've Got to read Neufeld's "Hold on to your kids" to iron out any lasting wrinkles about peer imperatives lurking in my psyche...

So I am aiming for 50/50 peer play vs mama and P time. We went to Dumbo for one of our days. We started with some sand play with trucks, followed by castle building. P had brought Snow White and Peter Pan with us and the castle belonged to the Evil Witch (amazingly missing from our ridiculously inclusive toy collection) played by a bearded dwarf. Then he climbed the rocks and tossed baby brother in a hole. It started as torture and turned to home building, followed by demolition and excavation. Followed, of course, by sand burial of P and, later, BB.

The playground is just around the bend, but P still has No Interest in playgrounds, so we stayed at the beach all afternoon. Then we scooted to the Brooklyn Ice Cream Factory for some homemade vanilla. As we sat in the shade P grinned at me and said "Ahhh. This is lovely mama. Sitting and chilling with ice cream. What a nice day." I hate to laugh when he's being sincere, but I can't help it :)

E walked the bridge from work and joined us at Rice for dinner. Their vegetarian options are pretty extensive so lots of new flavors pass P's palate - which he prefers. I mean, he loves his old favorites (huuuullo pizza!) but he really adores new foods, devouring their edamame hummus and corn cakes. Bed should have followed the chocolate cupcake, but P really wanted to return to the water in search of a driftwood balance beam he played on last year. The board was gone, but some rock tossing while watching the sun set over the city balanced out his disappointment and finished the day perfectly.

Thank gawd for Naomi Aldort

And thank gawd for no naps. Good sleep and a little growth and he's found his groove in so many ways, making him, dare I say it? Agreeable? Accommodating? Well, enjoyable at the very least :) He's gone from one of the strongest willed, intently autonomous toddlers I've ever met to a problem solving preschooler in the last 6 months and spending time with him is, well, fun. It could be fun-ny before, but was simultaneously trying, tiring and tantrum filled. By bedtime I usually felt like I'd been run over by a mack truck hauling a huge load of demands. Now my little mack truck understands "I'd love to do x for you, but my hands are busy with wet dishes. Can you wait?" If he doesn't respond "awwight mom" he might say "mama, I weally NEED x, Now. Please help." These are words he had 6 months ago, but his Phoenix-centered brain made it impossible for him to string them together. No more! Now he can be busy playing with E in one room and hear me quietly growl after I drop his peeled pear in the next room (my general ammo with frustration) and yell in "What mama? You ok?"

And its amazing what a little patience, understanding and empathy (from the kid) will do for parents. Its kinda like when your baby starts smiling. It takes the relationship up a notch in enjoyability. We've always thought he was fabulous :) but were too often too frustrated to fully appreciate said specialness. Absent of the popular parenting trump cards (because I said so, or, you have to the count of three, or, I said No!) constant demands and the ensuing deal making was difficult with our pre-logical, self-centered offspring :) The idea that respect and generosity can't be taught (trained, yes, but truly understood, no) occasionally seemed a pie in the sky notion that deserved the eye rolling it generated from elderly onlookers on the subway. But every time we thumbed through Naomi Aldort, we knew what she wrote was true. And we are seeing signs of that now. Without lectures, shaming, time-outs or yelling/spanking, P is... kind. He's still three, of course, and playdates seem to fit outside of this newfound friendliness, but with E and I its getting golden. This isn't to say he's grown compliant. The last thing I yearn for is a world of automatons. But a world full of kind problem solvers I will take!

I write this celebratory post for the inevitably less envious stage that will hit in, say, 4, 6, 12? months. Then we can look back and say, well, there was that one golden week .... and we really Don't want compliant, we want kind. We don't want compliant? we don't want compliant, we don't want compliant..... :)

Ummmm

Ahhh, the mind of a three year old. Good fun, good fun.

Fishing and Flowers

Last week was Unbelievably gorgeous so we played with friends in the sunshine most days - a great change from this winter! After scooting and biking and monster hunting and digger digging and snack eating with Malek, the boys decided to "fish." Some grass and sticks later they both had poles and we headed to the waterfall pond to fish. We actually located some fish in the water, but apparently the grass rope wasn't sufficiently enticing. Or the noise might have been a bit much :) When Malek headed home P just wasn't ready to give up the day and requested we scoot to the Botanical Gardens. The spring blooms were delightful and the children's garden smelled amazing. P must have stopped to smell 100 flowers that day, finishing each sniff with a dramatic "mmm,mmm, mmmm!"

Belvedere Castle

P Loves the idea of castles. I don't think he really "gets" what a castle is all about, but we call the building in his playroom a castle. And, of course, Cinderella goes to the castle :) There is also the much loved sand castle, and the entire idea of a dragon filled moat.

Anyway, when we mentioned going to Belvedere Castle last weekend he was pretty stoked. Who was Belvedere? Why did he build a castle? Was there a dragon filled moat? The interior was closed due to the late hour, but P happily hopped amongst the rocks asking castle questions. And this got me wondering, once again, are we just stupid parents? Or do you just not realize how little your folks know when you are three because you know even less? I wonder this because it seemed like my parents always knew the answers, and E's dad Certainly always knows some amazing answers. Meanwhile, E and I seem to say "ummm, let's google that" an awful lot...

But I digress, again. P loved the castle. And then he banged his head on the hill as we headed home.

Museums galore

We had such a blast last Sunday that at the end of the day we felt like we'd been on vacation. We went to AMNH and the Children's Museum of Manhattan (yay for memberships!!) roamed Central Park and ate out all day. Any one of these usually defines our weekend, so all of it in one day was a real treat. But we were on a roll (actually a scoot, but...)

Once again, the changes in P were so obvious at the museums. He focused on exhibits even longer and asked more in depth questions. When we were in the Dinosaur wing there was a toddler going up and down and up and down a set of stairs. I remembered P at the museum shortly after we moved to NY - that was all he wanted to do that day - those stairs. This time he stood on the same set and asked pointed questions about the duck billed dinosaurs. A Siberian diorama captured him for 20 question filled minutes. It featured hunters bringing home a beluga whale to their village. We chatted about the lack of agriculture in that climate and the need to eat meat. P was in hearty disagreement. There was a sprig of grass towards the back of the window and he pointed to it as proof that produce was possible. Sun requirements for tomato plants didn't really register for him, so we had to just nod along with his description of the diorama: the beluga whale was beached and the men were doctors, bringing it back to the village to heal it. Yes. Same kid who routinely tortures Baby Brother.

His change at the Children's Museum was even more marked. When we went last month with Malek he clung to my side and required constant interaction. Within 15 minutes of arriving on Sunday he was off like lightning. He happily bounced from one fun activity to another (I promise a lengthy video for the grandparents in the next couple of days), experimenting with all the different activities. He swirled the turning windows for an eternity, seeing shapes float, how liquid moves, how colors blend. He poured, dumped and funneled enough sand to make a beach. True to turning three, costumes are finally fun, so he dug into the costume bin and played jaguar for a bit. He almost squeaked when he found the porcupine puppet that he fell in love with during our last visit. The place was Chaos Filled but he didn't seem overwhelmed this time. In fact, we didn't leave until they announced the museum was closing.

Its now Friday night (yes, this blog is my exciting Friday night date) and I'm hoping this weekend is half as nice as the last :)

The Scooter

Scooters are really popular for kids in Brooklyn. Expecting those short legs to walk everywhere (and at a decent clip) is a lot to ask, unless you're comfortable carrying those short legs a good portion of each errand. So kids scoot. P was hot to scoot and knew exactly what he wanted. A pink 3 wheel scooter.

The Micro Mini rocks. Its steered by leaning and is super stable. We live uphill from the scooter store, so P really worked his first ride. He then devoted the rest of the spring afternoon to focused practice in our park. The next morning he was on his scooter with Ethan before I was even dressed. They went down hill for 4 avenues and P mastered his steering. He was soooo pleased with himself :)

We all left the house at 9 am and spent the day in the city at museums and scooting around the Upper West Side. At 7 that evening P still wasn't quite ready to head home so we decided to do some scooting in Central Park. The last hill (its always the last hill isn't it?) on the way to the subway was excessively steep, but P'd had nary a bruise the entire weekend and understood how to use his brake. He rounded the bend, hit a bump and flipped, helmetless head over scooter, and skidded on his face. It looked horrendous. Granted, the goose egg that immediately formed looked formidable, but he really walked away pretty unscathed for as huge of a fall as it was. A gory black eye and a scratched elbow, both of which are healing very nicely, were his only battle wounds. While he has been much more alert going down hills, he apparently wasn't too traumatized because he asks for the thing first thing each a.m...

But when P and I joined E in the city to file our taxes Tuesday I realized P's speed was finally a cause for concern. With 3 days of practice he was now at the end of the block before I'd even locked our front door. He sweetly waited every other tree after I discussed my concern with him, but it was obvious this constant stopping ruined his fun. After all, the whole goal appears to be going fast enough to dramatically pick up the kicking heel and sway the handlebars side to side while coasting and saying "neeeee-ahhhhhm." All fun and games in the park but infinitely more dicey around NYC traffic. Ugh, now what? Take the thing away or keep up with him?

So E and I had to get scooters :) And there we were, in rush hour foot traffic heading from packed Union Square to Wash Square Park, following our three year old on his scooter while he shouted "neeeeee-aaahhhhm!!!" and weaved between surprised pedestrians. It was fabulously fun, and pretty funny too, but the amount of trust it required was pretty taxing. And there, in a nutshell, is the big parenting kicker for us lately. Trusting him and his abilities while making sure his inexperience (and occasional lack of reasoning : I'll cut that car with my magic sword!!!) doesn't get him killed. I had no idea parenting could be so exhilarating and scary all at the same time, or summed up by buying a scooter.

Seth's Skateboard: The inspiration

So Uncle Seth came to play on Saturday. He arrived via skateboard... making him The World's Coolest Uncle. He and E pushed P around inside and then later the kid had a ride on the sidewalk. P was so proud of himself he kept checking in with Baby Brother for commentary, sometimes more interested in Baby Brother's astonishment than his actual ride:) His excessive skateboard excitement finally tipped the toy scale and after Seth left we purchased P the pink Mini Micro he's been yearning for. Oy.

The Stoop

The park is steps from our front door, so we usually head there for a dirt pile or monster hunt. But every once in a while our time is too limited or our energy too exhausted - yet the spring sun begs us to stay out. Then we hang on the stoop. Neighbors stop by to chat. P calls out questions to walkers. And the stairs turn into a racetrack filled with bubbles! Warm and fuzzy Brooklyn moments :)

Equally fabulous is the stoop freebie. Its freecycle without the hassle. We have gotten and given books, furniture and toys in this manner and P is becoming quite the stoop hound. He scored one of the ever popular baby strollers last week and joyfully pushed Baby Brother everywhere. Of course BB is scared of speed, so P had to go as fast as possible...

The thank you

P painted a thank you note for my parents for his Florida vacation. My mom enjoys birds and P included her fave titmouse (or was it the nuthatch? Mom?) alongside his lovely drip paintings. The paint is so thick on these it takes a full week for them to dry. And of course the originally colorful but oh so cheap washable paint dries to one big brown blob (which killllls me). I've seriously considered nice acrylics and large plastic sheets and then I remember the direction bean and flour experiments inevitably go. Anyway, I'm posting it here so that when my mom gets a painting that looks like smooshed shit she'll know it was originally quite lovely...

The Lean-to

P, E and I played in the park two weekends ago. Sticks rule P's universe lately and the day featured sword fighting, strange stick configurations and finally a lean to for Baby Brother. It was amazing to see him So Very Busy and not needing attention every two seconds. He loves Dr. Seuss's "The Lorax" and colleced pine tree branches as "grickle grass."

Fancy Monster Tricks

My mom politely informed me this morning that my blog activity was sub par :) so I'm going to try and get a bunch of pics up since she's jonesing... hopefully our internet connection will cooperate!

Mr. Articulate

My little problem solver. What started as crying and pointing progressed to grabbing and then growling and now finally to little zen statements. And they crack me up. My mom's most quoted favorite is from when P was a year and a half and she was carrying him while she cooked. It came time to open a jar and she told P that she needed the arm he was in to open said jar. He'd have to get down. "No, switch hands" he told her.

There's (sometimes) more analytic ability to his pronouncements these days. We played with Yoav a week ago and the two became a bit fruity as the afternoon passed. Yoav was teasing P, telling him his name was this or that. How he intuited that this was The Hotspot for P I do not know, but there is nary a better tease out there to get P's fur fluffed. He started out correcting Yoav. "My name is NOT shoaeiwthoaefh, its Phoenix Hudson Schulton." Within a few minutes this entire sentence was screamed rather than stated. I explained to him that Yoav was just teasing him, maybe he'd like to make a game of it? This worked, for about a minute, and then P's internal definition of P was just toooo insulted and he was pissed again :) He asked Yoav to stop, saying he didn't like it. Yoav thought it was all very hilarious and didn't understand why P would want to stop such a funny game, so he continued. P didn't find it funny at all and couldn't fathom why Yoav wouldn't stop such silliness. This sort of frustration usually spirals into physical pushing on P's part. This time, he went into another room. A few minutes passed and I peaked in hoping he wasn't peeing all over Yoav's toys or something equally creative and found him quietly playing the xylophone. He looked up and said "I was mad at Yoav so I came in to make some music and take deep breaths. I feel better now."

Wow. I wish I had that kind of clarity when I get mad :) But once P resurfaced Yoav reintroduced his game and then accidentally tossed P's stuffed dragon. Oops. Bad combo - you Don't toss P's toys :) I prepared myself for fistcuffs and a chat about safe expression when P grabbed his dragon and roared. It then breathed fire everywhere, burning Yoav's house down. Whenever Yoav uttered a new name or blinked, the dragon roared and burned more toys. We ushered the boys to the playground as quickly as possible where the energy shifted to happy swinging games and I sent up praise (again) that Spring has sprung.

Bugs: To kill or not to kill

We went monster hunting with Malek and his mama again yesterday. We've come up empty handed so many times now that the boys spent a bit more time on "truck breaks" than "mumble grumble" jaunts. It had rained the night before and the earthworms were thriving in the spring dirt. When P unearthed one with his truck, the boys' curiosity came alive and they tinkered with the idea of smushing it. P wanted to know what would happen if he killed the worm. Well, I said, it will die. His (fear-filled) obsession with cops and jail has helped him nail the fact that he isn't the right age to be locked up. So, he pondered, if I can't go to jail, what really happens if I kill this tiny worm? Its so funny to watch someone who can't always get their boots on the right foot struggle with big, ethical questions. I could practically see the motto of our 'Horton hears a Who' book swirling through his head "A persons a person no matter how small." Yet, mama grabbed that moth in the kitchen the other day (whoops) and Grams and Aunt D seem passionate about fly killing....

Malek solved P's problem by diving at the little bug with a "let's kill it." "Noooooo!!! shrieked P. "You Can't Kill It!" From then on he was the worm's savior. If he felt Malek had a worm out of the dirt for too long he would lunge for it, saying it was dehydrated. Ahhh, lucky little worm. If only the next bug would be so lucky.... I can already see him wondering "what happens if I kill this ant...."

The Dinner Party

P is reeeeally enjoying Baby Brother's new family (thanks Grams!). Bat Mak (has wings and an accent) plays a great silly villain. Beek Mok is the go-to guy for any missing character. Need a kangaroo? Beek Mok. Medusa? Beek Mok. Uncle Seth? Beek Mok. Horroray is a Beek Mok back up, the secondary go-to guy when Beek Mok is busy. And Baby Brother is still, well, Baby Brother.

So after playing coop (despite the fact that we don't belong to the neighborhood food coop, most of P's friends do and he therefore pretends to shop at said coop) he wanted to take his food back to the castle for a dinner party. He served us sardines (yes folks - that's pretend meat he's playing with now!) and chocolate fondue with strawberries, cherries and pound cake.