Phoenix's Fabulous Fort

Our bedroom is on the small size. I think in real estate jargon its typically termed "nursery or office." But all we need it for is bed jumping and sleeping, so we've dedicated our larger rooms to eating (which we do A Lot) and playing (also, A Lot;) and left the "bat-cave" as E lovingly refers to it, to the beds. After two years of beds filling, quite literally, wall to wall to wall (they do not touch the fourth wall, which is the doorway:), my feng shui snobbery is getting the better of me. We plan to loft the twin, giving us some actual floorspace between the walls not covered by a mattress. To test out the idea, E and I took turns this weekend heaving boxsprings over our head to see what it would really be like. We liked it :)

P liked it even more. Pillows and blankets were piled about. His chairs moved to make room. Boxsprings were piled against the wall. Unused to clutter (since neither E nor I can stand it), the little man felt his house born anew. He started gathering everything up and re-piling it in the cramped bedroom, claiming the newly stacked beds his cave and the pile his "dump." He tossed anything and everything on said pile he could get his hands on. I looked on quietly as I put away laundry (our closet is in the doorway to the bedroom) until he went for the clean clothes :) He was fine with my preferred limit (not to wash all of the clothes Again, after a trip to the "dump") and took to scaling his house instead. He added pillows to the top, calling them his "bricks" and long paper rolls, calling them his "pipes." I quickly morphed into a nameless "work-lady." As in, "Work-lady, could you please help me lay these bricks? Work-lady, do you know how to lay pipe?" and "Work-lady, do you want to climb on the roof with me?" and lastly, "Work-lady, do you want to jump off of the roof with me?"

It was my birthday that day, so it was with a light heart that I left the dump behind and went to a movie ;) Two hours later, a happy child met me at the theater and when we wandered home, the bat-cave-dump had re-materialized into our little bedroom. Aww, isn't he a good husband?

Treasure hunter

P's outdoor treasures are displayed on one of our tables. His crystals live there, alongside sea glass, cicada bodies, clam shells, pebbles, rock salt (wha??? there's free salt crystals just lying about on all of the sidewalks?! and I can bring them home, Mama? Yayyyy!) and other crazy finds. He likes to add to his collection and then carefully look it all over. Notice the pretty yellow flowers? He heard Aunt Alicia mentioning that Uncle Seth is sweet enough to bring her flowers. Then he heard me teasing E that he's Never brought me flowers (there's environmental reasoning behind it, but its still fun to tease the guy:) Well, P took it to heart and has bought me flowers Twice since then :)

Sub rider take two

Another sub shot of the little man. Anyone notice he's wearing a Winter Coat in all of these outdoor pictures? Last year this time he was still Naked all of the time. Now he's dressing himself (ok, once!), willingly wearing his coat and hat, asking for mittens....

Life's a beach

Wednesday (our adventure day this week) was frigid. And I do mean freezing. I had it all planned out. We'd take a nice trip to the well heated Brooklyn Children's Museum, which is newly renovated. But after lunch, P said no thanks. A typical response when attempting anything out of the everyday for him. We had a nice chat about his worries (getting lost, security guards, getting taken on a train, breaking a rule at the museum. Heartbreaking to hear the serious worries of a four year old!) and how comfortable it is to do the familiar. Then I reminded him of all of his favorite things we had done, and how many of them had been firsts that he had been worried to go to. I told him I was willing to go anywhere on Adventure Day, as long as we had an adventure and expanded our worlds just a titch...

To my surprise he chose the aquarium. I mentioned that it might be awfully chilly by the water, but in light of his willingness to travel afar, I was happy to add layers:) His recent shark tooth acquisition and shark tattoo had him rather excited to show BB (who is extremely fearful of sharks) the shark tank. And do you know what the child did before we left? He dressed himself. Head to toe. His undies were on backwards and his shirts took him a while, but he did it. This is something he has shown No Interest in, despite my frequent offerings of independence ("P, here's your shirt. You want to put it on?" "No thanks, Mama, you do it." etc) For whatever reason, he finally felt the need to achieve this milestone. (He had me dress him today, so I'm not saying he's turned over an independence leaf or anything, but now he knows he can do all of it himself, which produced a surly smile and an attempted sulk;)

The aquarium was wonderfully empty and we had a lovely time. P is so dedicated to his monster. Whenever he learns something, he turns to BB and repeats it. If its something slightly confusing or surprising to him, he has the monster describe the situation incorrectly so that he can correct him and re-explain it over and over. They observed the frogs burrowed in their bedding and then saw a caterpillar drown in a water dish. I was slightly horrified, but P was simultaneously fascinated and zen about it. Once the bug finished twitching P easily moved on to another tank, explaining to BB that the caterpillar died, but here were some live crickets....



The walrus captivated P for a looooong time. It is a glorious creature to watch.



We eventually made it to the shark tank where P and BB petted the display skin and looked through the magnifying glass.



Then P was ready to go find crabs on the beach, and we were off...




There weren't any crabs on the freezing sand (we had found some there when the days were warmer) but plenty of other interesting shells to be had. So we gathered until our hands were frozen and then headed home with our new treasure from our seaside adventure.

Chef Phoenix

You know how I mentioned that P's life is expanding with new videos of late? And how I gave credit to both our society at large and P's Papa in particular? Well, I should have mentioned another accomplice. The library makes for an unlikely suspect, I know, but is a major culprit nonetheless...

We've fallen in love with the Mulberry street branch library in the city. The books are organized in the most amazing fashion, the space is modern and gorgeous, the tables and couch accommodating, the librarian is Fabulous and... its just a few blocks from P's fave gelato store and pizza place. So every Friday we go get a scoop, read for a few hours and then meet E for a slice. Its a great outing during the cold months. With one hurdle for me, and one blessing for P: the video section.

Yup, the cat's out of the bag, there are free videos to be had. So the last two Fridays, (its a recent discovery) P has chosen a video to bring home alongside his new books and pint of ice cream (the holiday special, peppermint (sans food coloring!) is in stock right now). This last week was Ratatouille. The movie contains a surprisingly complex plot, providing P with lots and lots of questions as to character motives and vocabulary choices. He wants me to watch it right alongside him so his constant questions can be answered. After consuming it a few times he was inspired to call himself Chef Phoenix and start cooking. Feeling one with the lead character, he was certain his novel food combinations would be tre-magnifique. He picked and pulled from the pantry and then started stirring. Then he offered me the first bite. Ummm, let's review the ingredients: multiple bean types and tomato sauce (inspired by his direction I cooked chili with his left-overs), crushed peppermints, ketchup, pickle juice, mustard, sunflower seed butter, chocolate chips, pumpkin seeds, zucchini, tomato chunks, sunshine drops and dry pasta. When I suggested that the cook usually tried his creations so he knew what changes he should make he told me "Not in this kitchen. In this kitchen, the cook lets the customer try the first bite."

What was most adorable was his certainty that his food would be delish. As he topped it all off with mounds of colorful sprinkles he told me he was making it to go alongside the chili. He then grabbed a serving utensil and four plates and served it up, "One for you, one for me, one for Papa and one for BB." Lucky, lucky us:)

Rocket man

Alien encounters with BB..

I've had Elton John stuck in my head. P's been psyched to do experiments and projects of late (as long as there aren't too many instructions or anything even slightly "teachy" going on ;) and chose to make a self-propelled rocked on Tuesday. After multiple attempts (the first rocket was too darn heavy, the second string too short etc etc) our rocket shot all the way across the playroom with a mini BB and P inside. Phoenix was thrilled and initiated countdown after countdown. After plenty of encounters on Mars, P snuggled down on the couch to explain all things alien (a recent fascination for the little man thanks to his Harold and the Purple crayon book) to his monster.

Tats for P

Only 4? I think I'll choose one more...

P sweetly, and carefully places a skull tat on BB's belly.

P had a heyday with the tattoos from Uncle Seth and Aunt Alicia the other day. The pirate tats are glow in the dark, adding extra fun to an already glorious process. BB and I were given some glowing skulls too, starting the ever fun game of charge and run. We count to thirty in the light and then race to the dark bedroom to freak out BB (and ourselves:)

Fave P Quotes

I rarely jot down P-isms anymore, but here's two that I saved from last week:

"Mama, I just figured something out. If you're running after somebody in a circle, then they're really running after you. If you're running in a circle. "

And then a few days after that revelatory remark....

A few months back, we received a bath-bomb with our soap purchase at the Iron Fairies. Knowing it would probably freak out P's skin, and that no one else ever luxuriates in the bath around here :) I sat it aside and promptly forgot it. P dug it out the other day and sat on his ladder smelling it. He turned to me with a huge grin and said:

"I can smell all the way back to when I got this!" He then explained that he could perfectly remember that day since he could smell it, all wrapped up in that bath ball :)

Bread Crumbs

While our stuffed artichokes cooked the other day, P longingly looked at the bread crumbs he'd just helped bake and told me they'd be "perfect" for his trucks. Thank gawd for his new table, making crumb play an easy reality rather than a pipe dream! The crunching sound seemed exceptionally satisfying to him as he slid his steam roller back and forth and back and forth....

Puddle Pedaler

The rain, the wind, the cold, nothing can keep the kid from the puddles. After picking our limit at the library (that's, um, FIFTY books, folks - and we do it almost twice a week lately! His story appetite is insatiable of late...) P suggested we head to the Big puddles that the recent rain had blessed us with. Spare layers in hand (and half the library dropped at our door) we biked to P's favorite muddle (its too mucky to classify as a puddle). The longing looks he garners from other kids as he splashes his way through messiness is just heartbreaking. One little girl actually stopped me (after her mom yanked her away from a puddle P inspired her to join) and asked me why P could go into the wet spots. Glancing down at her galoshes and then into her mother's raised eyebrow I mumbled something about spare layers and hurried after P...

I appreciated the fact that he didn't get sick this time (a common coincidence to puddle jumping? Or some nasty puddle secret I'm not privy to, thus the raised brow?). The kid was c.o.l.d. when he finished racing. Fortunately, it was nothing a fresh set of clothes and a warm bath couldn't cure.

He's so weighed down with wet in the video below he has trouble turning! I don't think you can see it streaming, but he zooms by with a smile big enough that he couldn't hide it even with his super-sulk:)

Tainted Love Claymation

Video is slowly creeping its way into our lives (with its dual saviors, common culture and E, flanking its introduction). I am simultaneously suspicious and excited. My biggest concern is P's apparent confusion about the difference between reality and movies. He gets the leap between story-world and our world, but movies look so... real! So, with E away playing in Atlantic City with his brothers, P and I played with a project I hoped would allay my worries...

Despite BB's true status of "magic" P realizes that the monster can't really walk on his own (thus the constant requests for me to "do BB!!!") (Even there, though, some confusion seems to reign. P often whispers to me, so that BB can't hear. And when BB goes missing in the house, P calls to him, demanding the monster tell us where he is. When the lost doll doesn't respond, P tells me to make BB talk, but appears confused when I say I can't respond with the location if I don't know where BB's hiding. So P moves onto helpful questions, asking BB if its dark or light, hot or cold, soft or hard... Its as if he thinks I'm channeling the thing rather than the actual soul of it :) Even though the monster's abilities aren't completely concrete in P's mind, lack of walking ability seems pretty certain. So we decided to make him walk, without my hands.

After the sculpting (for claymation) and script writing (you should have heard P's initial script plans! Oh, the heights of elaborateness! The kid is Hollywood bound ;) we proceeded to the filming. The special effect (BB falling) was necessary, as P is fascinated with the idea of the impossible becoming possible to the eye, but still not actually being possible. It all took eons. Later, as we edited on my computer and I showed P the initial results he was flabbergasted. "Why is it so short? We worked for so long!"

I'm afraid the results, slapped together and greatly aided by a four year old, are less grand than the four year old had hoped, but it certainly showed him how something unreal can look (kinda) real through movies. This, hopefully, will help me to worry less about this media messing with his mind.... Now if we could just cut the "stupid"s, "shut up"s and "idiot"s from kid's movies. Seriously, I'd rather my kid yell "fuck" really loud when he falls down than call someone stupid...

Ice Skating and Crystals

When adventure day rolled around this week we couldn't decide on our adventure. P really wanted to try ice skating, but he also really wanted to see the Huge crystals at the AMNH. While checking their website to look for pics of the rock collection we saw that the museum now has an ice skating rink. Bingo!

It was an amazing setting for a first time ice skater. (A family of tourists kept exclaiming at the fabulousness of it all. Even though we live here (maybe since I'm a transplant?) I echoed my thankful thoughts to P a number of times too:) And though the surface wasn't real ice, he certainly got a feel for it. And he liked it. A lot :)

Meanwhile, I couldn't skate an inch. I've been ice skating before, and while I'm certainly no champion twirler, I can usually make it around a rink. No such luck. I looked around and the tourist family was in no better shape, first-timers that they were. But P, well, he was kicking my butt! Then a few more adults trickled in and started sliding around the perimeter. Realizing I wasn't getting the hang of things, P started giving me tips ("Just push off with this foot, mama, and then slide like this...") in the sweetest whisper (heaven forbid he embarrass me by telling me what's what too loudly ;) Nope. Still couldn't move. I know that its just a matter of time before P starts seeing me as more and more human, but this inadequacy was coming on a little too sudden for my pride. So I sidled up to the skating dude in the corner and asked how I could improve my glide (er, move forward At All.) To my great relief, he informed me my skates were dull. D'oh.

Back on the ice with real skates the kid and I slid around the rink, laughing and falling and pulling one another about. It hit me then that we were Hanging Out, really just hanging and having fun.

Back inside P's recent questions about the moon, its size compared to the Earth, Mars and the Sun were most brilliantly answered by the inspirational planetarium. After plenty of nebula talk we headed to the "crystal section!" Our route took us past some large snails and shells and P requested I document his favorites so we can hunt for them and keep them as pets.



Through human evolution we went, the path adding to P's constant questions concerning the subject, onto Meteors. There, P denounced the meteors as "boring" and demanded we find some diamonds and crystals, pronto :)

While impressed by the size of many of the crystals, their subtle nuances of importance were lost on P, who most appreciated anything cut from its natural state into a gem shape :) The precious gems room had P zooming from case to case, shopping with glee. "I want that one, and that one and that one and that one and that one and that one..."



umm, yah, sure mama, its pretty, but where are the DIAMONDS???

Crystals

P is passionate about crystals. I vividly remember my mom receiving flowers when P was little(r). Lovely glass beads danced in the vase and P was mesmerized. He wanted them Sooo badly, but was still in the "everything in the mouth" stage. So we watched him like a hawk as he rolled and touched (and threw but did not swallow) the glowing spheres. He still has them two years later.

Since then there has been shiny pirate treasure aplenty in our house, starting with plastic, graduating to glass (once P entered his anti-plastic stage) and now, crystal. P has high hopes he will complete his collection with huge, real, diamonds ;)

So, on the way to the concert we stopped by a crystal shop. P was aglow surrounded by so many different crystals. He picked his way through the store, carefully selecting his favorites. Since then, he has kept close count of his new crystals, carting them everywhere. He loves to bury them in his beans with the great rocks from Uncle Seth and Aunt Alicia and then dig them out with BB and I. Sometimes, as in the video below, the large quartz crystal is much more than just a crystal :)

The Dan Zanes Concert

Brooklyn rocker Dan Zanes (rock god to kids everywhere) had a holiday concert on 42nd St this season. I've mentioned P's music/instrument obsession of late - but the little man doesn't really like crowds... So I asked him if he was interested in going and received an unequivocal Yes!!!

After a trip to a crystal store in the West Village (another post, another time), we headed to Times Square for P's first rock concert :) Tots toddled the isles as we entered and P experienced a little vertigo... But then he settled right in to his Front Row seat, able to ignore the masses. Yes, that's right, front row. (Come to find out -there is occasionally a benefit to procrastinating -you can actually see the beads of sweat on a dancer's face.) I, of course, wanted to document the momentous occasion, but as I pulled out the camera I made a fatal error. I asked E if he'd seen any signs concerning photography in the theater. Whoops! Big, Big pet peeve of P's. If there is a rule on a sign, there might be security guards. If there are security guards, P is not a happy camper. Oh, and he himself becomes a security stand-in - watching everyone like a hawk to make sure the sign is Obeyed. I have no idea where this quirk comes from, but its longstanding. (A few weeks ago we were headed to the library but P was happily ensconced in his jammies. He decided just to wear them on the outing. As he slid his boots over his footies he laughed and asked if he looked "ridiquiwus." So off we went, P wearing jammies Under his clothes. The minute he saw the guard at the library he panicked. I reassured him there were no rules concerning PJ's and libraries and we moved on to pick books. Shortly later, I turned from the stacks to see him hunkered under a table. He peeked out, with tears in his eyes, and said "Mama, I'm scared." This is the child that yells at the wind when it blows too hard. Hunkering isn't really his style :) Until it comes to authority figures. They scare the holy-moly out of him. Turns out, he thought the guard could take him away from me since he was wearing pajamas out of the house! We had some loooong talks about guards and the extent of their powers (or lack thereof) on the way home but nothing seems to truly allay his authority figure fear.)

So, P was Very Nervous I'd get into trouble taking pictures. We decided it was fine, as long as I didn't record any of the show, but P was still reticent to be photographed, at first. Eventually he hammed it up...




The show was fabulous. The music amazingly multi-cultural, the musicians so upbeat I thought they'd float. The little man, riveted but unsmiling :) As in most occasions where he is overwhelmed with happy emotions (birthday, xmas, Uncle Seth's arrival) he strikes a serious face that approximates a sulk. Its really hilarious. The show's close was P's favorite song and everyone was up dancing. I grabbed P and bounced him in my arms as he Fought his smile with his sulk. The face looks something like disgust (you can actually see it in the photo just above, where he's veering towards the hamming stage, but still attempting the disgruntled stage), and one of the dancers looked down, started to grin at us and then gave us a look of surprise instead. Yah, she's probably not used to getting a dirty look from the tiny front row fans....

We snapped a few pics amongst the neon in Times Square on the way to our sub



and then enjoyed Storynory.com (Brother's Grimm)on the way home. As P sat silent and still, only his eyes moving with his imagination, I wondered if all first concerts are fraught with such small dramas. I'd always imagined the Hollywood version of kids :) They go out for a fun time and laugh and smile freely, perhaps there is a melt-down about chocolates or a missed bedtime, but, generally, light little hearts. There aren't many melt-downs here, and chocolates are eaten whenever they are needed ;) but the light heart is definitely not P's story...

Nevertheless, he said he loved the concert :)

The Chalkboard

For whatever reason, P had decided he doesn't draw. But he wished he did :) Perfectionist that he is, paper has proved problematic. If he finally attempts a figure his frustration results in the classic rip, wad and toss seen in most movies. (Apparently a truly human reaction and not the dramatic ploy I always assumed it to be.) Feeling for the forests, we went with a chalkboard. And within the first week P made his first real drawing. Its a papa whale and baby whale below rough water and a many flagged pirate ship. There is plankton in front of the Papa's mouth, some swishy finger marks that are microbes and a fishing line. P was so proud he was torn. He didn't want to ever lose his whale (which started with just one eye but was reworked with two the following day) but wanted to draw some more. We decided on a picture of his picture and then he happily erased the board to draw another day....

Monster Magnets

P received a set of Monster Magnets from the Pumpkin Fairy. (As a tie in to the recent Santa conundrum post, the whole Pumpkin Fairy story was presented ala Jason Alexander's "Dad, are you the tooth fairy?" We read the book the week before, but, much like the ensuing Santa silliness, I think P's imagination ruled on Halloween too :) At any rate, he Loved the magnets and enjoyed making monsters to scare his favorite pink monster. But, big but here, his favorite monster leg was a single. As in, the manufacturers decided some monsters should not have matching legs and made a couple of singles. This greatly vexed P. So it was a happy day when Uncle Bric presented him with another set for Xmas. The old set came out of hiding and they all joined forces on the front of the fridge. Now all of the legs are "doubles" (a recent word acquisition that he uses as often as possible) and the little man is at peace :) Above, he attempts to make a multi-headed monster "to scare BB out of his monster suit"...

Puzzle Power

P received a couple puzzles for the holidays, which he Loves. One even came with moveable dinosaur stickers - sheer bliss for the four year old!

3-D

P's Polar Express DVD included a 3-D version. The child had never seen anything like it before and was Amazed :) Needless to say, the glasses themselves have provided plenty of play. When P first saw his monster he squealed "BB!! Your PURPLE!!!"

The Haircut

P's hair has been bugging him for months. But it went a step further last week when the humidity dropped here and the static skyrocketed. Every shirt, balloon, hat or wrestling match would static cling his mop in some uncomfortable position. His top-tail trick wasn't suiting him anymore and he was Frustrated. So finally, finally, he was willing to set for a cut. I told him I'd cut it Very Short, so it wouldn't need it again for a long time. Ok, he said, make it like Grandpapa's.

After I lopped it all off I showed him the mirror. He was slightly stymied, it wasn't the same color as Grandpapa's :)

The new and improved Bean Bin

P's new table (a few old boards from a previous tenant atop a couple of ammo boxes) needed an upgrade to properly hold beans. The boy is just too big for his old bean bin and he was quite resolute that beans were the perfect companions to his new diggers. So sweet E, lacking the tool filled work-shop of our past life, sawed through some cast off two by fours with an inappropriate saw and a lot of determination. P was head designer, requesting a one foot space remain open for BB to drive through or for P to climb through. I was head decorator, in charge of making two by fours less unsightly :) Once assembled, the table held a dizzying number of beans under which P buried "treasure" (his fab rock collection). Its a pretty soothing game to play with the little guy, reminding me of those zen sand rakes...

The Gingerbread House

In an attempt to ward off winter boredom (for me;) we're doing more projects. P is fascinated by all things holiday-ish this year, so I figured a gingerbread house was in order. I had no idea...

Fortunately we planned on being home for the entire day :) It was a lovely time, the stirring, the baking, the icing making. Most instructions said to wait a while after assembling to decorate, but the four year old thought this sounded Ridiculous, so we soldiered ahead to no ill effect. P also made some gingerbread people to live in the house, and then promptly ate one, taunting it the whole time! He ended up keeping two, plus a little cookie I made him with a pink heart (which he swears he'll Never eat or throw away ;) The boy and the woman live in the house, along with the witch (imaginary) from Hansel and Gretel (a story P sorta likes and is sorta scared of, but he befriended her so that she could live with us :) Due to the kitchen being a DISASTER when E returned from work that evening, we went out to eat. Along with the witch. I received more than a few sidelong glances for my cackling and strange behavior, but the little man noticed nothing out of the ordinary.

I should take a picture of the house as it is today, a week later, in shambles. I had always assumed these things were virtually inedible, setting about for long periods covered in excess sugar. Turns out, they are quite tasty :) The boy, the invisible witch and the heart covered cookie, however, are still in mint condition.

BB's Holidays

In addition to getting the deeds to P's new Construction-land, the little man felt it necessary for the monster to have a holiday tree too. So as we cut into a pineapple Solstice morning, P squealed with excitement, "Mama!!! Mama, can I have the top for BB's tree?"

He then placed it in the itty-bitty monster's chateau, decorated it with mini candy canes and surrounded it with tiny packages. He even cut a piece of felt for a stocking (despite our stocking-free abode). Needless to say, the monster was Thrilled. Over and over and over and over....

The Santa Story...

P's excitement for Solstice and Santa this year was unprecedented. We do nothing to "build up" the season. We don't chat incessantly about gift possibilities or wish lists, listen to holiday music or read "The night before Xmas" before bed each evening. We're not Scroogish Grinches, we're just very, well, Relaxed about it all.

The difference this year was the presence of Xmas propaganda in our lives. P watched "The Polar Express" with my mom one evening in Kansas. It seemed a small price to pay for a date with E (I don't remember the last time we had one - not that mom doesn't offer! (Thanks mom!!!) P just isn't very interested in us skipping out without him ;) So Grams and P had a lovely evening, and E and I had a lovely evening with Micki and Blaine, and all was well.

Then started the Santa questions. We talked about story-world and the spirit of giving and I assumed simplicity would reign once again. Ha. Hahaha. Despite my honest answers to his direct questions (Santa is a lovely story, parents like to play Santa for kids to keep that magic alive yadiyadiyadi) P Wanted to believe. As soon as I realized this I changed directions. If asked a question I'd no longer answer it, I'd just turn it back to him. After all, he knew the answers he wanted to hear....

Soon he'd watched the show a number of times and fell for the story more with each viewing. He'd ask BB if BB thought Santa would leave anything under our tree. He'd ask me if Santa was real ("What do you think, P?" To which he'd whisper in a smiling little voice "I think, maybe, mama!") And then he got wise.

While on the phone to Grams he asked her if anyone lives at the North Pole. My mother (who has sweetly tried to hide her dismay at the lack of Mr. Clause in our life thus far and who created the most wonderful Christmas cheer for me as a kid), joyously replied "Of course! Santa does!" P's smile could have lit up the Rockefeller tree. He shoved the phone at me and ordered me to ask her, in order that I might hear her fabulous answer. Then, buoyed by Gram's gusto, he fixed me with his baby blues and asked me the same, exact question. "Mama, does anyone live at the North Pole?" Being the beacon for all things true while supporting a child's belief in magic is a tough line for me to walk. I'm afraid I falter to the side of reality and honesty a wee bit too much. Determined not to crush the magic he obviously wanted to conjure into his life, but unable to stomach a fresh faced lie right then, I jumped ship. "Well, P, I've never been to the North Pole, so I don't really know...."

And so it went for the last two weeks. He'd lob questions and I'd play dodgeball. It was enough to get us through the season with his hopes high and my ethics unsullied. But as D-day neared I realized this wasn't quite the same as slyly supporting stories of fairies. Its one thing to playfully imagine talking monsters or hunt for fairy dancing rings. Its quite another to provide definitive Proof. And that's what P wanted most of all, a package of proof, preferably with pretty paper.

I fully planned to let him dream his dreams while I sat out on the sidelines vicariously enjoying the childhood magic. And then it hit me, what happens when he wakes up and finds no fat man present under the tree? Will he be crushed? A quick survey of those who know him well all voted, unanimously, yes. He'd be pancaked. Whether he'd worry Santa forgot him or, perhaps worse, start buying into the twisted "only for good boys and girls" bullshit, he would ponder it to be sure.

Then, as we Tried to go to sleep Christmas Eve, P tossed and turned and bounced and babbled. I still had to unbox and then wrap everything sent by P's dedicated Grandparents and Uncles (it was all stashed in another apartment as the little man couldn't stand to be near it all without opening it, yet wanted them saved for the special day) and it was getting really late. I finally informed him that if we couldn't get to sleep soon, I'd be too tired to have everything under the tree for morning time and we'd have to wait until the afternoon. Would he rather sleep, or do presents later in the day. P was quiet for a minute and then told me. "That's ok, mama. That's ok if you don't put presents under the tree. Santa will." D'oh. Then he decided he Did want to go to sleep, requesting as he nodded off that I put the family presents somewhere other than under the tree. He wanted that space purposefully left open...

So I carefully wrapped his tiny would-be New Year's present and placed it with a chocolate santa and a box of candy canes under the tree. Then I wrapped his Christmas gifts and sat them on the other side of the room.

P, like all children worth their salt, got up unusually early. I prepped him that his family gifts were not under the tree, but by the door per his request. Not that he had any expectation of a huge pile, nor did he receive a huge pile, I just didn't want him crushed at first glance by the small, singular package under the tree.

He was not. The same slow dance from Solstice took place, lots of hemming and hawing before any unwrapping. But this time it was highlighted by curious banter. Who could have left that box under the tree if you put the presents by the door? If the family presents are There, who's gift is There. And every iteration of that question you can imagine. Each query left unanswered with a quick "Hmmm, what do you think P?" His excitement was hilarious. He purposefully avoided opening Santa's present (for that was the conclusion he came to) until the end. Having not pre-planned for an impressive red suited delivery, the tiny last minute substitute could have been a massive disappointment. But no, the kid was just so happy Santa came that it never crossed his mind to wish for more. I love that about this age!

P, shocked to the floor upon seeing something stashed under his tree...



P, excessively anxious that someone help him get the Tape Off!!! ;)


The Santa issue finally solved in his mind, P relaxed into Christmas day, playing heartily. He vroomed tractors and mini-jackhammers (BB was given the deeds to the additional construction trucks, mayhem ensued again ;) and clanged bells (oh, the chimes! I knew he'd like them but I had No Idea. After much dinging he announced that the two C's were his favorites.



And so it went, him marching through the house, shaking them loudly while E and I marched behind with various chords. He would play that game, I truly believe, for hours...) He raced his P-powered jeep and finally, when he had no more run left in him, settled into his new swing and listened to one of his absolute favorites, newly minted on a CD, Frog and Toad.



Energized by his spinning he was ready to tackle his P-powered flashlight. Almost through his second read of Hugo Cabret (about a boy that is a whiz with gears and clocks) P was pretty inspired by the small gears required to make the flashlight work and quite impressed they were able to create light.

Papa helps with the gears


After a day of fun his highlights arrived: Uncle Seth and Bric and Aunt Alicia. They came bearing gifts and delicious food (thanks Alicia;) and, of course, themselves.

P requested they swing him and they sweetly complied. If you aren't familiar with the Schultz's talent for constant noisemaking, you can get a general idea from this video, featuring Seth's numerous swinging sounds ;)



For a holiday we had hoped to make more about family and less about consumption, this post probably sounds the opposite ;) And while the idea of getting gifts was god to P that day, at the end of his day it was, like all others, about family. But the days leading up to it were certainly also about Santa :)