Grams and four and a HALF

P seriously adores my mother. Having been without his Grams fix for over a month, he returned to asking daily when he could see her again. Though he's getting his days of the week and seasons pretty solid, time is still so fluid for him that "two months" is almost meaningless. And I found the concept of "going to sleep and waking up 60 times" is just depressing to some people :) So he called her on the phone frequently and chatted her ear off (which is a real act of love since his lack of "L" and his iffy "R" makes phone talk an occasional challenge :) Then the other morning he decided he just Could Not Wait any longer. And Grams, heroine that she is to the little man, she came through for him.

Her visit was made even more lovely by our very sweet landlords and lucky lack of neighbors. She slept in the apartment below us and P fancied himself fifteen, leaving home to visit Grams on his own :) We had great fun running about town, visiting toy stores and eating yummy foods. Sunday afternoon E and P hung out while I lucked into some quality mother-daughter time. The next day, as my mom and I laughed about something, P became more and more agitated. After a few out of character frustrations I questioned the little man about what was bugging him. He told me that I was getting too much time with Grams, that he needed more Grams time :)

While she was here we celebrated P's "half birthday." I first heard of half birthdays when P was a baby and I scoffed heartily at the concept. I waited a whole year for my birthdays, what was this nonsense :) Well, now that P is finally excited to get older (he was vocally reluctant to grow up for about a year there and has only recently changed his tune, due, in part, to his new stance on death. After fearing death for two years now, he has turned to denying it. He tells me he will live, "like a bowl, or a chair, Mama, a thing that never dies." And if, in play, the subject of death comes up, he quietly whispers to the Universe "I don't want to die. Thanks!" and then carries on...) he now loves marking his never-ending age. Sometimes, at the close of the day, he'll exclaim that he is now older than when the day started :) Additionally, he Loves everything birthday. He throws birthday bashes for BB on a weekly basis, wrapping toys, feeding the pink monster play cake, singing to his fuzzy friend. So it just made sense to celebrate this milestone.

P chose a carrot cake in a train shape for his big day. And he made it himself! When we filled the train mold and found there was extra batter, P decided we should pour it into his candy molds. I was a bit surprised when it all came out beautifully :) So after his favorite pizza dinner we lit some candles and sang that song while P's eyes danced and rolled (direct attention like that generally brings on an uncomfortable eye roll). As I grabbed my camera, E. feeling the birthday vibe, reflexively said 'Smile P!" We never tell P to smile for a shot, so it was hilarious to see him ham a grin. See above:)

That day he announced that he didn't like being called four and a half. We should just call him four. Then a few days later he asked if he could buy a real metal sword.

Me: Sure, P. That would be fun. (We try to always start with a yes. Its a good vibe to go with and leaves him feeling the infinite possibilities in his life)
P: Today?
Me: Maybe we'll wait till you're just a bit older, P. They can be a bit dangerous.
P: But Mama, I am four and a half....

Needless to say, Mr. Slow to Transition transitioned over to the "half" part pretty quickly :) If only he could better adjust to living so far away from Grams.... :)

The little man

P's outgrown his summer hat. At the shop, he eschewed the typical floppy brims I've always purchased in the past and opted for a tam and a fedora instead :)

Cultural cues

Its fascinating to watch general culture creep into P's psyche. And its equally fascinating to see what doesn't seep or creep. (Or hasn't, Yet.) For instance. P adores dresses. Always has. Cinderella has a special place in his heart, due partly to her fashion choices :) And he's been happy to sport a gown whenever the fancy strikes him.... until the other day. Swinging in his swing he sighed and said he wished he were a girl. Yah? Why's that, P? If I was a girl, he said, then I could wear dresses..... And so culture has crept. E and I have never said anything about this silly social limitation. I stand aghast at the thought of little girls forbidden to wear pants just a few centuries ago and am equally horrified that little boys are stigmatized in the dress category (all children innately love beautiful shiny things!). But P has finally put two and two together; it is a rare occurrence seeing a man all gussied up after all. Pity that, of course :)

But not everything insanely limiting that our culture ascribes to has yet to infiltrate the child's sweet little lovin' brain. As we zoomed through the park the other day a gentleman played his horn under an echoey bridge. P shouted out in excitement, "Mama! That man looks just like Grandpapa!" We were in a massive rush to get the kid to the loo, with the scooter enjoying a downhill surge, so I told him I'd look after our pitstop. As we scooted back through the tunnel, I slowed as P pointed at the musician and grinned. "Grandpapa! See! He looks just like Grandpapa!" And ya know what? He DID look just like my wonderful father in law. Except that he was African American. Otherwise, he was a dead ringer, I kid you not. But P didn't even notice the difference in skin tone. To him, people are like cats and dogs, they come in all colors, shapes and sizes, but they're all simply cats or dogs. Oh that this judge-free beauty will never leave him...

And love, to P, is equally equal. As are his toy preferences. Digging through my old toys in Kansas, P unearthed my Barbies. Still deep in his truck phase, he showed no interest whatsoever. Six months later, for reasons unbeknownst to me (and deep in a stuffed toy/doll phase) P wanted those Barbies. Bad. So the fabulous Uncle Cash mailed them, bringing the little man Great Joy this month. As he pawed through the miniature clothing and shoes, he devised a plot. (As most play occurs these days, P describes a fairly complex plot and then watches it unfold, directing each turn. I merely follow his lead.) And true to his fashion loves, he tossed aside the jeans and oxfords, opting for the wedding gown and fancy lace dress (both in like new condition as I always preferred the GI Joe clothes on my Barbies :). And what do you do with a wedding gown? Orchestrate a wedding, of course. So Barbie married Flower (despite the fact that I had a boy Barbie, dubbed Dexter by P) about a million times that day. They both walked down the aisle, said their vows, kissed and went to eat and dance. The dancing part was unbelievably adorable, as he took it so seriously, humming a tune, waltzing his newly married maiden, staring so strongly at the dancing girls - as if they came to life in his head. Then he had a brainstorm - plot twist. Barbie decided to give a hair-clip to Flower for a wedding present. Flower, of course, adored it and instantly added it to her ridiculously thick and long locks. Then, as they proceeded to the reception (thrown by our home-made P doll, watercolored by P, as seen in the background of the above shot, and little BB at their chateau) P plucked the clip from Flower's hair and dropped it. "Flower looses her clip," he stage whispered to me, filling me in on the new plot, "and Barbie goes to find it for her." This was added to the wedding ritual and re-enacted, with love, all afternoon. I can only hope that the world catches up to our children's innocent beliefs in love, equal love for all, someday soon....

The four year old

Honestly, four is so much freakin fun its ridiculous!

Gardening in the sky

As I mentioned a few weeks ago, P has been crazy for gardening this spring. It gives me midwestern pangs, truthfully :) Yardless, and gone for the month of July, a garden isn't really in the cards for us right now. But that's no reason the little man can't dig in the dirt and watch something grow! So we sprouted some peas and watched with delight while they grew tall and strong on our windowsill. A little batch of flowers beckoned us at the hardware store and some home sprouted basil looked like it might make it if planted so.... out the window we went. Four floors up with a curious four year old on a 100 year old fire escape provided the added excitement that mellow gardening usually lacks :) P loved the whole experience. A week of rain and everything is getting taller and greener and P can hardly contain himself until he can pick his own peas!



The little gardener:

Down days

So we had a lot of down days while P recovered from the flu. Fortunately, the little man is getting really good at finding fun Anywhere. When this metal can became emptied of toys (after, of course, it was used to throw BB away repeatedly) it became an echo chamber. He wandered after me and my laundry basket repeating the same mishmashed sounds over and over again. After 5 minutes of wall bumping he reappeared all smiles, "Mama, you've GOT to try this!" I stuck the can on my head and repeated as instructed. It sounded amazingly cool.... I wish I could remember what it was he was saying!

Fancy Feet

P's self portrait.

Feet, newly decorated by his Mama's Barbie shoes...



Oy was that a fun game!!!

Sick Saturday

We headed to Central Park (to rock climb, AGAIN!:) two weekends ago. But I could tell the little man wasn't quite right. So after a brief run up and down the rocks, we headed home. By three in the morning his fever was raging and I was up googling swine flu :) He coughed and was generally miserable for 4 days and then slowly recovered :) Is it just me or is the kid getting every flu imaginable out of the way during his young years? Guess its best to do it when someone will hold you all night!

Spring rock climbing

Enjoying our first really warm day this year, P and I returned to the rocks in Central Park. Can anyone spell "climbing addict?" :) P had a plan, too. He brought his long black rope (the one that he jumps, ties things with, dangles BB from... its an all purpose toy) in order to toss BB from the cliffs and chuckle while the monster dangled.

We found a new outcropping and settled in for some fun. Soon, a clothing photo shoot set up in the daffodils below our rocks. P paid no attention initially, but as they pulled out a faux picnic and lighting, he grew interested. He climbed, feeling very Bond, closer and closer to the shoot, ducking down when anyone looked his way. It ate up a Lot of his early afternoon :)

P, describing the picnic foods:



As we scooted to the zoo for a bathroom break, P remembered the children's section and decided we should take another peek. It was a good time:







Then we headed out for more climbing and new rocks. P's and my attempt to dig crystals caught the attention of a very friendly little boy. He gaily offered P some jelly beans and jumped right in to play Huck Finn.



After scoring the rock we were after, the boy offered to sword fight P with his sword balloons. Honestly, it seemed like a P playdate come true. A friendly, talkative, older child for an impromptu, pressure free sword fight. I looked at P's face, expecting a glow, and saw his blank look. The one he gives strangers for forever, only to be ready to chat them up as they are finally walking away. Nevertheless, he jumped about on the rocks with the boy, singing out a "ching-ching" occasionally for sound effects. When the boy called Phoenix by name I saw P almost glow :) Eventually, our new friend had to leave, promising to meet us again someday. As P watched the boy go, the one he hadn't uttered 5 words to in the last 30 minutes, he turned to me and said "I love that kid. Love him with all my heart. When can we see him again?" Ha! Slow to warm strikes again...

So we had some great rock climbing adventures while the day cooled and P watched for other kids that might befriend him with jelly beans:



Then, as I packed our bags, P wandered further and further afield, feeling quite Big and At Home. See the tiny pink P dot?



A glorious thing to see (even if the picture worries you, mom!) I was relieved to see him stretching his comfort zone - after his mishap the other week on an escalator. Knowing my preference for closeness on long escalators, P, of course, wants to be half the machine away from me. But, sometimes, he gets so obsessed turning around, directing me to not come closer (I'm not:) that he doesn't notice the end coming near. Typically a "Look!" from me suffices. But, on a busy midtown, rush hour escalator, P skipped down with dire directions for me to Stay. As people filled in the space between us, he kept looking back, filled with big kid pride. And then the end was near and he wasn't watching. My "look!" was lost and the young suit standing near him swiped P up to safety. As the child was lifted into the air by a perfect stranger, half an escalator away from his mother, he looked back at me and his face Broke My Heart. It was blank. Completely Blank. The fear, the lack of autonomy, the worry, was all so overwhelming that I could literally see him shrink inside himself. The suit carefully sat P down on the ground, turned around to give an anonymous and apologetic wave, and rushed on. When I finally got to P he was livid. "Don't EVER let someone do that Again!" His eyes fought back his tears and he clung to me. He told me he had thought the guy was going to take him away, that he was being kidnapped :(

So, after a week of fly paper like closeness, the kid stretched his legs again and enjoyed Spring.

Community gardening

Last week we went to a Homeschool New York event set up by the wonderful Twinkle (remember the Iron Fairies? That Twinkle.) It will be monthly - readers reading a short book to non-readers followed by a fun craft. P had a blast and Loved making butterflies at his favorite library. This week Homeschool New York started their very own community gardening plot, thanks to Milo's mum. P had jumped for joy when the idea was first mentioned but was less than enthusiastic the morning of the event. Which really drove home how easy it has been getting out of the house in the last two months. After months of turn- taking and deal making (I'll stay home Again today, P, if you'll go Anywhere tomorrow :) we'd been happily skipping out of the house a few times a week for fun adventures. I wasn't that surprised he was retracting his excitement. Since he started setting his own (late) bedtime routine, he was getting an average of 9 hours sleep a night. Yah, that's a couple short of what a four year old should be aiming for...

After chatting about the exact details of the day he was finally ready to zoom out the door, dark circles and all :) The garden is a lovely little spot in the East Village, surrounded by tattoo filled locals and ex-hippies. P and I were early and enjoyed the quiet space together, his irksome mood lifting with the outdoors and a good scoot.



When everyone was ready, we joined the gang to prepare our plot. There's nothing this city kid loves more than an excuse to dig in the dirt and he happily grabbed a shovel and heartily moved earth.



Then the drama started. One little girl didn't like where he was placing his dirt. Then another little boy was jealous of P's hole - he wanted a big deep hole too, but didn't want to make his own, he wanted P's :) I felt sorry for P, I could see his frustration mounting as he tried to give everyone their space and stay out of everyone's way. More kids piled around and the jealousy filled boy kept shoving P's shovel aside. P typically holds it together until it is Just Too Much and then he POPS. Wanting to avoid said popping, I lifted him towards the fence to an empty spot in the back. He started to dig a new hole, graciously giving his original one up. Then a little girl whined that she wanted to dig where he was, could he move? Then an older girl told him she wanted his shovel and handed him her hoe. He stuck the hoe into his new hole and realized it wouldn't do the job... and I could see the shadow pass over his face. D'oh. The pop was imminent and I coaxed him away from any moving objects since he was holding a rather large hoe :)

As he (very quietly, heaven forbid this most private child let other's overhear) railed about the loss of his shovel, I really felt for the tired little guy. And I saw so much of his father in him it made me smile. As he instructed me to retrieve the shovel (a community tool of which we had no special claim) and my answer disappointed him, I let him know he had a choice. He was tired and this felt Big. He could stay there, in that big, unhappy spot, and I would hold him while he was there. Or he could choose to let the sadness go and make his day a happy one. I was along for either ride and he really can Choose how his life goes. He swatted at me and then sat there for a second. Then he glanced back at his shovel longingly once more and said, "Let's explore the garden."

And so we did. His friend Milo joined us in a bush fort for a bit.



Then they gathered wood for a bonfire (well, P's was for a bonfire, Milo said he was gathering weapons for the fort, but they did gather sticks together :) Then Milo's unbelievably sweet and thoughtful mama let us know she had some solitary gardening to do, if we were interested. Hah! P jetted over to the now vacant plot and happily planted and watered for the remainder of the garden's hours. In the background, the other home-schoolers chased each other about the space. Ah, well, the kid comes from two introverted adults, you can run from your peers, but not your genes...



As for running from unhappiness, P seemed to embrace that concept wholeheartedly. The next night we met E for dinner after work. P was still tired. He repeatedly and accidentally dropped bits of my veggie burger's bun (that he was loving) onto the less than clean booth seat. As the last piece of bun not covered in spicy mustard slipped from sloppy tired fingers, P buried his head into my arm-nook and quietly cried. The restaurant was so loud I couldn't hear anything he said through his tears, but I kissed his head and he eventually rallied a sad face forward. Once outside, he got his bearings. "Is that Whole Foods over there?" Yup. "I want to go there and get something to replace my bun. There is a sadness in my heart and I want to feel better." E was ready to head home, but anytime a four year old says something like "sadness in my heart" a parent knows that they're smoked.......

Felt Fun

I have uber-fond memories of my childhood felt-board (thanks mom!) and P loves playing with felt too. Its like Birthday fun for him - we cut out new dinosaurs, stars, fish, trees - anything the little man can dream up, we can materialize. For added rainy day fun we got two HUGE felt pieces so we could make the Entire World (P's request) for BB. Cuz' the pink monster really needed another home.... :)

'Nuf said...

Just your average evening experimenting with weight, counterbalance, torture....

Scootin' in the City

P spent last Saturday doing what he loves most: hanging with E and I, Seth and Alicia. We planned to scoot the west side to the southern tip and hop the ferry... but we were on Saturday Time. So, we mosied west, ate, bought some chocolates :) and then started south by scooter. It was sixty degrees and pure perfection.

P is in top form when he hangs out with a few close, Adult, friends. (We had a social circle of wee ones yesterday - post forthcoming - and a very tired P enjoyed himself Much Less :) Unfortunately, his devotion to Uncle Seth frequently finds him climbing all over the guy - vague proximity isn't quite enough. We're working on helping our little Active Alert understand bodily boundaries, but its a looooong process :)



P finds a "pirate ship," treasure chest and all:



We didn't make it too far south before we landed on an old pier area - a great slab of concrete that hung out over the water, just begging to be played on. The Kansan in me saw the strange urban-ness of my child spending a lovely spring Saturday sans grass. But P didn't notice anything except Jersey. He found Uncles Shane and Tom's building and then proceeded to make plans to Swim the channel, British style. He would climb on my back and I would swim. We could drag our scooters under the water with a rope, tied to me. I told him it sounded like fun (validating generally being the best way to imagine with P) and he pushed me towards the cement retaining wall with a "Jump!" D'oh :) I told him I'd need to exercise a bit first, the scooters might weigh me down. No problem, he proceeded to wrangle Alicia into the plan, would she carry the scooters?

P, trying to seal the deal



We scootered, skated, chatted and watched the boats go by. It was a lovely time, of which I have few photos. Aunt Alicia, though, has some Amazing (and I mean Amazing!!!) shots of our day. So, please, ignore the rest of my dull post and proceed to her blog here. Ok, I'm linking you to her general blog site, not the day specific ones for two reasons. First, her photos are so great, you shouldn't miss any (even if P isn't in them:) and second, if you hurry, the top is a photo of P and I! I know, that Never happens. If I die, the child will actually have more than three photos of himself and his mother :) There is also the most awesome photo of E and P, E looking like a total stud :) So, go and scroll! (Alright, for future ease, once those posts are buried amongst her other brilliant photos, I'll do a link :) So go here and here)

We eventually moved from our slab southward to a spot of green, where we collapsed to chill, yet again :) Parting ways till another day, P was moved to share some of his chocolates with his favorite people. He picked green balls (green being Aunt Alicia's favorite color) and pink hearts (sign of love to all) and started piling it on. Then he switched to silver stars, shouldnt' they all be shiny? Then he switched some more. Then he started adding more and more to their hands, trying to keep it even between the two. As the sly foxes got up to go, they sweetly slid most of the candy back into the little man's bag. We also packed up and then headed for food. As we sat down (at a really fun little mexican restaurant that had shiny stuff hanging from the ceiling - thrilling P to no end!), P opened his chocolates and turned to me. "Why they no take their candy?" My answer of "because they love you so much" left him bewildered, but satisfied nonetheless :)

The candy man:

Aunt Alicia and Central Park

If only Aunt Alicia was on permanent break. P and I would kidnap her and drag her about the city to our heart's content. And it would take a Lot of dragging to make P's heart content :) He optimistically "sees" her about twice a week. The girl running up the sub stairs with long wavy hair. The strawberry blonde dashing across Houston Street.

But last week we got the real deal - Three times! After our fun day at the Botanical Gardens we frolicked on the rocks of Central Park under the sun. P was unusually content the whole day - making for a mellow and exceptionally enjoyable time. We started at the Crystal Rocks, where we picnicked, chiseled and people watched. Then P started dragging Alicia down and around the great rocks where we bumped into a fellow unschooler doing the same to his mum. The little man discovered a new path through greenness and daffodils where he decided to dig for Larger Crystals. Unfortunately, said crystals were in the Middle of a popular path. Fortunately, we were able to coax the little man onward...





We settled onto another rock outcropping where P danced precariously close to the edge (see top pic). He repeatedly tossed imaginary BB into a dirty puddle and then we chiseled away at a crystal swatch, garnering a few beauties. It was So Lovely and Relaxing. Actually Relaxing. Which, honestly, caught me off guard. I'm the first to admit that parenting almost did this whimp in. The sleeplessness, combined with the constant demands, combined with the number of deathly dangerous things abounding for a small child that moves independently (and quickly) before their brain has a Clue about what is actually dangerous - oy! And, of course, I'm a whimp:) Then, just the other day, someone replied to a post shortly after I posted it. And they had read the linked article too! I was lovin' the devotion, but blown away by the ability to do so much reading - right at Busy Bedtime! And then it hit me. Not only has life become so much more beautiful because spring is here and the little man sleeps Allll night now (and generally knows what will kill him), but also because I've finally forgotten what life pre-kids was like. (I often forget everyone doesn't have a couple kids stashed away somewhere too...) Cuz that was the biggest bitch of all in the early days, remembering the mellow evenings watching a movie, surfing the net, eating a warm dinner, talking to my husband, finishing a thought, reading a (non-parenting) book. As Phoenix wailed in my arms or repeatedly tried to eat another rock (and then wailed inconsolably at being thwarted), I would remember those freedoms and sigh. And it all hung heavily on my sleepy brain for the first, oh, three years (have I mentioned I'm slow to transition too?) I know we could have gotten a babysitter, shoved a bottle at the kid or stuck him in a crib to get some space, but that just wasn't our bag.... we wanted the bag we had, we were just surprised with how heavy it seemed in comparison to our bagless past lives, pre-kid:) With that friend's email, it hit me that after 4 and some years, being a parent is finally natural for me. God that's embarrassing.... And sounds unbelievably self-centered.... (But I'll admit right now, I've been adding to this post for 4 days now and have yet to finish it - and that seems perfectly normal. Two years ago it would have driven my Type A side Nuts:)

So where was I? Rocks. Yes. We danced on the rocks and then headed to the Alice sculpture. We never made it there because some Gorgeous magnolia trees called our names... and P was fascinated by burying his screwdriver :) His reading ability is entering into his play more and more. As he buried his lot and marked it with an "X," pirate style, he wondered what the "X" stood for. What word does it start? Why do they use an "X"?



Aunt Alicia, screwdriver retriever extraordinaire, looks on with her magical camera (aka new appendage:):


As the wind turned chilly we returned to our sweaters and headed to the West Village for dinner. Uncle Seth and Papa joined us and P became immediately glued to Seth, sitting beside him, being carried by him, and finally crying for him as Seth exited our homebound subway. We got off at the next stop, immensely satisfied by a day in our city, yet again :) So satisfied in general, in fact, that I don't ever consider thinking about life pre-P, ever anymore....

Today I will Fly

So, I posted a while back here ) about P beginning his reading journey. I mentioned that I half expected this to move slowly, if at all... boy was I wrong. Three weeks later he has read a number of books By Himself. While I still wouldn't say that P is truly reading (more like memorizing as quickly as possible :), he is certainly determined to do so, and soon. He requests reading as regularly as ever (story addict that he is!), but these days he's also finding words all around him and asking that they be read too. The realization that the world is Filled with words has hit him and he's psyched.

Simultaneously, he's decided to go to sleep differently. I think a lot has to do with his recent weaning (they really do willingly quit eventually! Holy Moly!), leaving space for a new bedtime ritual. A lot has to do with the sheer exercise of his Will too :) Darkness has always been a necessary element to P's nighttime sleep - overstimulated angel that he can be. Well, he's decided That particular silliness just Has to End. And so the light started staying on at bedtime. This, of course, means that P then has trouble going to sleep. Without the sway of a carseat or the rhythmic rocking of the mei tai, the light leaves everything, well, visible. And visible is distractible and distractible is Awake. As E and I are completely Done by ten at night, we've started just lying down with our eyes closed and resting (or zonking, in E's case:) while P settles himself.

His sleep has therefore crept an hour later, moving him closer and closer to owl's hours. But, the beauty of this approach is that, much like when I'm sick and there's just no option, he Has to entertain himself as we drift off. No emotional isolation engendered like there would be if I was just reading a book to myself ("Mama, why won't you Play with me?" As if he can't even imagine why the person he wants to spend every second with doesn't feel just as much love and excitement as him:), just quiet play because we're Sleeping. Sure, he's tested our sleepy resolve (what self respecting four year old wouldn't?). Gotten close to my face, his little breathy chuckles tickling my closed eyelids. Sure, he's considered hanging out in the (dark) house alone. Little feet quickly pitter-pattering back to the bed, an airplane clutched in his tired hand. (A scary independent accomplishment as yet repeated :)

And then he decided to right a wrong he feels nightly. The ending of book time. This signals the final transition from day to night, a transition P has fought for four years. Not in the typical "bedtime fights," as he's never had a stiff "bedtime" before. We go to sleep when he's tired. Just a sad little internal fight where he tries to keep his eyes open and his day going, misery be damn. As I finished another chapter of Charlie and the Chocolate factory the other night and kissed him good night, he moaned that he wanted more. I promised more in the morning, after I had rested my tired body, he could look at the pictures if he wanted. Typically, any suggestion to look at a book sans moi has him roaring "but I can't READ!" with immense indignation. This time, he grabbed a beginner book that he loves, "Today I Will Fly" and proceeded to read it to himself. Then he cuddled up next to me and went to sleep. It was amazing.

Two days later we got a set of "Brand New Readers." Easy beginner books that kids can tackle almost immediately. And so he did. He read through a few books that same day, pausing after each page to ask BB if he'd heard :) I love that BB acts as a mirror to P's emotions - an easy look into how he's feeling about life at any moment. If P's nervous about something he often asks BB if the pink monster is nervous, if P is hurt, he places bandaids on BB, if P's proud of himself, then he makes sure BB hears of what has just been done so BB can reply with the requisite "No Way! Really? Wow..." E and I skip the external praise and "good jobs" (see a great, short article on the many reasons why to skip verbal rewards here) but this peer-like feed back seems to be just the perk P needs when he feels pride. Have I mentioned how much I love this little monster?

At any rate, there's so much independence blossoming amongst the flowers here that I'm amazed. The child's belief that he really is, secretly, a grown-up, seems to be becoming more and more true every day and he awakens each day feeling like he really can fly...

Sorry...

Sorry for the prolonged pause (mom:), P's been unusually busy, no longer goes to sleep before me and then the internet was out all week! So, here follows a few posts - more soon to come...

Until then, you should check out my awesome sister in law's blog. Not only can you get a great view of life in Brooklyn - you can also see some super shots of the little man :)

The botanical gardens with buddies

Just a week after we stalked magnolia blossoms with Papa, we were back at the gardens to puddle jump with friends. Aunt Alicia was enjoying her Spring Break and sweetly joined us for the fun. Nothing pleases P more than seeing his Aunt or Uncle. And he tells me this, every. single. day :)

After thinking himself quite the acrobat as he jumped back and forth over the water canal, he took to tossing a small bamboo stick for Alicia to fetch, sweet Aunt that she is :) Then he moved onto balancing scales with her, cackling that his heavy stick trumped her enormous pile. His buddies showed up and they all piled sticks together:




Until, that is, Leslie showed up with the buckets (only a super-mom travels with four adorable buckets!) Then the wee ones were hot to pump and dump:




Definitely weighing in as the non-super-mom for the day, P was without proper puddle jumping attire. That, however, does not deter a determined four year old and when he joined in on the jumping he become ever so much more wet than his compatriots. Then, of course, it cooled off and started to rain. Alicia and I headed to the desert with the now chilly child to warm up before our trek home. P was thrilled to catch the cacti (I am enthralled by his strange interests. Cacti? Sharks seem obvious, but cacti? I guess they're sharp... and a little menacing..), wetness be damned, and will probably remember on future visits that getting wet is a sure ticket to his beloved domes:) Building on his burgeoning reading habit, he learned how to spot the various aloe plants (another P love - burns and natural remedies fascinate him) by label, thereby guaranteeing his true aloe devotion... Once warmed, we headed home through a light spring rain, P happily running his bike through the ever greening park.

Birthday fun

After a loooong winter of peer discontentment, P is back in the game. He's accepting play dates and birthday invites. He's happy to see his friends again. (This follows the pattern laid in the last two years: P is tight with his friends. P travels to peerless Kansas and returns to NY rejecting all play dates (I think he gets out of practice and questions the point, but I could be wrong). Months of nothing follow until the seasons change and he slowly reintegrates. P becomes tight with his friends. P travels to Kansas... )

Desmond and Nini's 5th birthday party was fortunate enough to fall inside this grace period :) The party was fabulous fun filled with balloons and great friends. To top off the already amazing train cake there was even a, gasp, pinata! P was sooo psyched. Then he heard there would be blindfolding involved and swiftly removed himself from the ranks. "But Mama, if I can't see where I'm swinging I might hit myself in my head!" Hee-hee - so practical, this kid. Here he is, watching from the back:



After a round of rowdy hits everyone went blindfold free and P reinserted himself into the fray. When the pinata finally broke, the more knowledgeable kids scrambled along the floor while P and one of his friends each politely grabbed a singular item and proclaimed their excitement :) I told P it was a free for all and he did what he does best, scavenged. Even once the other kids had lost interest, P continued to comb the floor for lost suckers and dinosaurs :)

True to form, he finally became comfortable with the other kids as closing time neared and was pumped to play with them again once we left....

La Famiglia Dimitri

Last weekend we saw the most amazing show at the New Victory Theater! A small Swiss family, their patriarch having performed with the likes of Marcel Marceau, thrilled us with their enormous smiles and high wire acts. A typical three ring would be a bit of a sensory overload for P, but his love of tricks and acrobatics practically demands a diet of some circus fare.... Fortunately, the Dimitri family perfectly fits that bill.

Check them out here: There's even a tiny video to give you a better look. They played a huge array of acoustical instruments (good for easily overwhelmed ears, despite his inclination towards overwhelming Others with His sounds ;) that inspired P to no end and performed trick after trick that had P continually asking "could you do that mama? If you practiced a Lot, then you could do it, right?" He laughed at the two mimes, was mesmerized by the floating man, the twirling umbrella, the slowly drawn transitions. After only 20 minutes he leaned to me and asked "can we see this again, Mama? Soon?" It was, in a single word, Perfect.

Central Park Zoo

Not thinking about Spring Break, P and I headed to see the Polar Bear last week. As we scooted through Central Park en route to the zoo we ran smack into an old friend of mine, in town for the week. She followed us to the zoo where we all fought the crowds to see the adorable penguins shimmy into the water, sprinkling bubble trails in their wake. Typically a photo frenzy opportunity for me :) my old chum occupied all available moments, leaving me photo free - sorry! But P and BB were truly there, photos or no, growing ever more annoyed at this new female presence, one who talked a lot, and Not to them :)

As we took a bathroom break, P had hit his own breaking point and instructed me to run away from my friend while she used the loo. And to Never, Ever stop again when I see someone I know :) We gracefully parted ways and wandered into the park to refill his empty cup. The large rock we settled on was littered with kids on break and swaths of crystal. P was pumped. Short of his hammer and chisel he tried knocking the crystals loose with a rock. It was too crumbly, so he tried lifting a large one to get to the "perfect" hammer rock:



Working another crystal patch:




We made plans to return to the location later in the week, with a chisel, thus freeing P to enjoy other rock based fun: jumping precariously close to the high edge. He ran about at the top, carefully walked the perimiter of a dirty puddle repeatedly (holding BB right over the puddle and chuckling) and then decided to descend the cliff. So down we went, around a bend, along a path and back up the other side of the outcropping. P was delighted. This, to him, was the ideal way to spend the day, screw old friends and their chatty ways :) So up down and around we went, over and over and over and over and over.... The top of the climb featured a solitary boulder upon which P perched, requesting a special photo for Uncle Ian (P's rock climbing inspiration and famously adored Unc):



It was a great day, one that we hated to give up - so we stayed well into the evening, watching the city get slower and darker and P's eyes get heavier :)