Snow, inside and out

I really need to work on extracting ourselves from my gracious parent's house (P has been kind enough to reeeally make himself at home here) but I thought I'd get out a couple of P pics first.

After the balmy fall we finally had a little snow. First, we had a fake snow storm inside with flour. Bless my mother for embracing this unschooling lifestyle of ours! Phoenix has claimed the center island of her kitchen as his and most projects occur at this central location. This was So much fun that said storm has been repeated numerous times in the past week. ("I really like the feeeel of it mama!") . It all started with an innocent 1/2 cup of flour and true to toddler form (jeez, 3 isn't really a toddler anymore is it?) 1/2 cup is never enough. Or, in P language "No, that not too much." So cup by cup he depleted my entire bag of flour onto the center island. Our old Star Wars craft and his recycling truck then navigated the snowy landscape. He truly tried to keep it on the table, but when his knees, toes and elbows were saturated with the stuff it was inevitable that dustings would make it to the floor. When he saw how cool that looked he forgot all about keeping it on the table and shoved a bunch off onto the floor, right when the chocolate lab happened past. My mom handled it beautifully, letting the dog outside to shake without missing a beat. This from the woman who had me dust crevices with a toothbrush as a teenager :) Grandkids have it good.

P has enjoyed that same (ever dwindling into the vacuum) bag of flour countless times now and his recycling truck has a permanent white sheen to it. But the seeming seriousness of his pursuit and his extreme homesickness for his dirt-pile makes the mess worth it. I don't know if my mom's kitchen floor would agree...

Then when we woke up one morning there was real snow on the ground and P was psyched. Holding him and saying good morning to my mom, I hadn't yet seen the snow. He grabbed my face, turned it to his, gave me a very pointed look and then turned my face to the window. I hope I never forget the excitement that look held. Then he wanted his boots, NOW, and to play in the snow. As you can see, he didn't feel the need to bundle. He raced willy-nilly, looking just as frisky in the cold as the horses and dogs. Then he remembered a book where the snow is describes as biting. He picked some up and then threw it down saying he had "snowbite." When he really was finally frostbitten we headed inside to work with some warmer snow on the center island. Happy trails on my mom's floor (flour or muddy boots), either way :)

T-1 to Tday

Phoenix has lacked a certain level of excitement for Thanksgiving. When he found out there were no presents involved he wasn't quite sure it deserved the name "holiday" or "special." He was thrilled it called for making his all time favorite dessert this morning, pumpkin pie. He was even more thrilled that the entire bag of flour that he emptied onto the counter fit into the back of his birthday recycling truck. But he still wanted to know when Winter Solstice or Xmas is. Then, tonight at dinner, I told him all of his Uncles would be at Grandpapa's house for T-day. Thanksgiving quickly changed for P. This Was a Special day. After affirming Uncle Seth had already arrived at Grandpapa's house he requested that I open the side door. He was leaving. Despite the dark and the freezing temperatures, not to mention him being mostly naked, he was ready to find his way to Seth. I asked him how he planned to travel. He said he'd drive the white car. I asked him how he'd reach the gas pedal. He thought for a moment and said "Papa do it." Ethan told P he'd call Seth after he finished eating, so Phoenix climbed onto E's lap and started shoveling the food into poor E's already full mouth. The man is generally a fast eater, but P managed to speed the process up even more.

After playing hard with Jace, Seth, Marielle, Alicia and, of course, Grandpapa, P was a tuckered boy. Just as we were leaving Uncle Ian arrived. We didn't stay to chat, but P overheard Marielle mention that she had been worried about Ian and Grandpapa mention Ian's broken cell phone. P quizzed me for details that I didn't have as we drove away. Without any hard evidence, he had to write the story himself. "Oh. I have a plan mama. Uncle Ian need to go to a phone store to get a new phone! And I know! There a phone store in New York! He need to go to New York and get a new phone. A green phone. A white phone. Orange! He need to get a new orange phone." We were in a phone store in Brooklyn once. I'm guessing they sold green, white and orange phones.

At any rate, now he's excited for Thanksgiving tomorrow. He wants more time with Ian and Seth. And he wants some of the chocolate he saw on Grandpapa's counter before we left. I said that would be no problem, Tday is dedicated to eating yummy stuff. To this he replied "Yay! Tomorrow we get to eat and grow!"

Naked in November

Until today, this week was a ballad to Global Warming. For our NY friends reading this and thinking that Kansas must be a "southern state," I say to you, nay, it is not. Generally, November is blustery with a few fall days of warmth, just to tease us. But this month has been a continuation of summer, and while enjoyable to the wee one wanting to play outside, it bodes badly for said wee one's future. Big sigh.

But P knows of none of this, and thoroughly enjoyed the sunny days. How warm was it here? The child played Naked in the Sprinkler. As promised to Marielle, there will be no naked P pics on the web, so no pics of the water play. But you can see him hamming for the camera outside, still naked, eating pretzels. Did I mention its November? After chasing the cat around and running pell mell through the grass he decided to climb a tree. He finally found something that wasn't all that fabulous disrobed, but he refused to pull on pants. He was just so happy that he had a moment of freedom from his binds :) We've tried to keep him covered at my folks house, a fairly constant struggle.

At our flat there isn't much room to roam. Certainly not enough space to lose each other in. Here it is another story. And while P wants tabs on me at all moments, he's greatly enjoying "disappearing" into other wings of the house. At lunch yesterday he tested his happy independence by wandering outside while we ate. We could see him playing out back, knew he was safe, and then he slipped around the side of the house and disappeared. And he didn't quickly reappear. Between the ponds, the pool, and his new proclivity to explore alone we figured we better check on the little guy. After E headed out one door I heard P come in another. Prancing. Glowing. The definition of "walking on air." "I took a nice little walk" he announced. After rounding up E, P took 3 or 4 more "nice little walks" around the house all by himself - feeling like the big man he believes himself to be. Then he peed on the floor. Three walks forward, 1 step backward...

Cousins day out

Despite the 9 siblings between Ethan and I, there isn't a single cousin within spitting age of Phoenix. He has 4 lovely college age cousins, but toy trucks aren't their thing. So we've really appreciated getting together with his second cousins this time home. Trucks aren't really Elizabeth's thing either, but she's a kid and super sweet to P, and that's all that truly matters to him. We had a lovely time playing in the brisk breeze at the Riverside playground. The space boasts 3 equipment sets and some Awesome climbing areas. The climbing rope Eiffel tower area did not boast the foam pit I would have preferred :) but it was admittedly very cool. You can also see P mid-air in an above pic - he's really into jumping off of things lately. High things. In my cousin's words "You have emergency room visits in your future."

I've mentioned before how, um, particular, P is about his clothing. I'd call about a playdate with his buddy Malek and his mom would tell me she just had to throw some clothes on her kid, they'd be ready in 5 minutes. "Throwing clothes on P" and "5 minutes" are generally two phrases that don't go together. Then when we'd meet, Malek would look cute in his blue jeans, button down shirt and sweater. Often he even wears a heavy coat or a hat. This seems like a normal thing, sure, but when I see a kid in jeans, or anything bulky, I always wonder, was there a thirty minute wrestling session involved there? P would no more wear jeans than a colony of ants. Pockets? Nope. Patches? Nope. Collars? Nope. Zippers? Zip, zilch, nada. It took us a little over 2 years to understand why getting the child out the door was such a miserable affair, but we're finally getting him figured. He's super sensitive to smells, bright lights, and, apparently, anything non-cashmere touching his body.

I've hoped all along that I didn't Do anything to encourage this (while still trying to honor his needs); nature/nurture is such a bitch for a parent to ponder. So I listened with great relief when my cousin Gretchen mentioned Elizabeth is the same way. Her older son, Caleb, will wear anything, so she knows it isn't Her fault :) P and little E even share some of the same quirks - occasionally, neither can stand the bottom of their pants to touch the top of their feet. As skinny little P shivered and jumped around the playground sans coat I was pleased to hear Gretchen tell me Elizabeth used to be the same way but will wear her coat now. So, he may be stylin' sweat pants for the rest of his life, but at least he won't have frost bite if he can make it to the ripe age of reasoning at 5.

Fun on the Farm

Phoenix has become an old pro at flying to Kansas. While he still obsesses about the call button on the airplane (he Really, really, really wants to push it) and he detests releasing his shoes and toys to the x-ray machine (who doesn't?), he seems to understand the drill. He always looks forward to our trips "home"; he Adores our families. But E and I have secretly worried that he will break our hearts one day and not want to return to our home. E's closest childhood friend has a teenage daughter who has grown up in locales like Moscow and Toronto and is now in NYC. As a teen she is thrilled to be there, but there was a time that she visited Wichita and wanted to move. The space, the yards, the cars, it was all so big and exotic, in a different way. So each trip home I wonder if my little man will yearn for big and bucolic over close-quarters and culture.

The days are filled here with Barry Bobbit on the tractor - an all time fave for P. Trees to be felled, towed and tossed onto the burn pile. The immense fire of the burn pile and more sticks to be thrown into said pile than P could ever wish for. The pond for rock tossing with that limitless supply of rocks and skipping stones. The hay bales to climb and jump. His little John Deere to ride or my dad's mule to adventure in. (Sidenote: Phoenix just woke up from his nap and informed me that a nice alien shared one of his cars with him.) At any rate, there is outdoor fun to be had everyday and a large house to roam. This doesn't even factor in the amazing attention he gets at E's house with his most favorite playmates in the world and more cars than you can count. When I look at it all I think he'll never want to leave.

Which, of course, makes it unusually sweet to hear him ask to go home every couple of days. Usually at the end of a long, eventful day. Sometimes just because he's thinking of a toy we didn't bring. Sometimes because he wants his bed or his stoop or his aquarium or his dirt-pile. But at the end of the day its nice to know he likes both of his "homes."

Birthday Boy

Phoenix's excitement for Halloween was only surpassed by his pants-peeing excitement for his Birthday. He started a list months ago. He has spoken of his birthday on a daily basis for a month. Much like Halloween wasn't about the costume but the candy, his birthday wasn't about the new digit but the presents. Phoenix LOVES getting presents. I know, he's three. This seems too obvious to even mention. But P will spend Hours putting a new toy back into its packaging, putting it in a shopping bag and pretending to be surprised. When he tires of this he plays shop with it and buys the darn thing for the next couple of hours. Its not just the new toy bit, but the actual Getting of the Gift.

His day didn't disappoint. He had ice-cream cake and a hot-potato led scavenger hunt with E's family. E and I steadfastly uphold a one-gift-per-occasion rule. So understandably, he was glassy eyed with sheer ecstasy as he was led to one hidden present after another. He was too stoked to fully capture hot-potato, but Grandpapa, Jace and Mimi deftly helped him scout out his treasures. His new recycling truck (dare I forget and call it a Trash Truck, he'll point out the words for me on the side and fake-read "No, mama, it says Re-cy-cling truck. See?) beeped with constant attention for the next 3 days straight and we had to tote all of his new toy cars with us in his backpack for a week.

After play-time with E's family we had pizza (P's choice) with my folks and brother Greg. He had also chosen carrot (over chocolate or gingerbread) cupcakes with candles for dessert. I knew from last year that the whole candle-blowing moment is gone in an instant and I was determined to capture it on film this time around. To that end I purchased the candles that suddenly re-light. Since P never feels he has adequate time to play with fire, he greatly enjoyed this treat and I could play with my camera And enjoy the moment :) After such a fun-filled day we planned to wait until the following morning for my parent's present, but my Father was too excited. Seems we have two gift lovers in this house :) I have yoked my parents into the "one gift" rule too, so my mother tries her best to appease me And please P. She found him a toddler size Vespa (its only one gift!) to putter around on in NY when he misses his John Deere. It was dark by then and he has been scared of the dark since Halloween (thus curbing a trek around the dimly lit drive), so he careened around their house shrieking with pleasure until E and I called a halt to this gut wrenching, house ruining activity. Needless to say, we were up bright and early the next morning to play with everything. Interestingly enough, with so many new things he didn't re-wrap or re-receive even once. Seems he was finally satiated :)

Halloween in Kansas

First, sorry for the delay. My computer has been under the weather.

Phoenix has been "preparing" for Halloween for weeks. Literally. He practiced trick or treating (and candy eating) at our house daily last month. He would instruct me to be a witch or Mildred (the toothless old lady) and then knock on doors and make noises to give me hints concerning his numerous pretend costumes. Despite his real life choice of a motorcycle, his pretend play typically featured him as a mouse or a dragon. Even during these dry runs he had a hard time asking a stranger for candy. (Its me, sure, but he seems confused on that topic. If I ask him a difficult question while pretending to be someone else he always says "I want mom to come back for a minute." Then I have to tell him that I'm me, and he'll ask me the question. Then he'll request the pretend character again and give "her" the answer.) So usually he would just hang around making squeaking sounds and sniffing towards his candy bowl until I proffered the sweets.

So after so much pre-holiday fanfare, he was pretty psyched on the big day. We went to E's parent's house because their neighborhood is a Never-land for Halloween. The block of Broadview is decked out with flying ghosts, alien spacecraft, ginormous spiders and five thousand children. After trying the madhouse for a while, losing grandma Mimi and E, Phoenix requested we leave the mayhem. On the walk home we tried some quieter streets and he seemed to enjoy it.

He Really enjoyed himself back at Grandpapa's house. Mimi and E had made it home and Uncle Jace and Grandpapa were there. Generally those characters are enough to ensure a memorable evening for P, but that night he also had a bucket of never discovered before Candy. His allergy to food coloring is pretty strong, but we told him it was his choice. He chose to try everything. Fortunately for his skin, try was the operative word. He licked and nibbled from every wrapper, but consumed very little. He wanted names and descriptions and poured over the contents of the bucket for the next three days. Granted, he had to do so sitting on his stuffed hippo, ala a hemorrhoid ring, due to intense discomfort from said food allergy, but the brightly colored parcels thrilled him. His skin is still less than thrilled, but I don't think he regrets it one bit(e) :)

Sea-horses and death.

In such a big world, with so many angles to every experience, its always fascinating to see what angle captures Phoenix's fancy. Or what tiny phrase can, literally, change him. A quiet conversation about manners, seemingly out of his earshot, enters "please" into his vocabulary. He was told he's a" tough boy" after he fell once and he will only cry now if he has just bounced his head off of a cement column (in the subway, like a ball, from running at top speed while looking backwards. Ouch.) Sunday I casually teased a lollygagging E, calling him an old man. P was instantly serious, asking "He gonna die now?" (I thought I had explained it adequately when 2 days later he cupped E's face in his hands and asked, "You really old?" )

So I took him to the aquarium Monday with the intent of celebrating life, the birth of the baby walrus. He definitely thought it was cool, but he also walked away with more death concerns. Part of the sea-horse exhibit at the aquarium includes a small conservation window showing dried sea-horses and bags of pipe fish. The message on the wall explains the problems of using sea-horses in traditional chinese medicine. P saw the window and was fixated. He demanded to know why the sea-horses had died. I reminded him that everything dies. How it die? WHY it die? Read it mama. So I read the info on the wall and he sat with that for a bit. Then he wanted to know Why someone would use it for medicine. But why kill a sea-horse to feel better? Then he wanted to know if the sea-horse had gone on to its next life. Was it there now? Who did it become?

Its times like this that I understand the lure of distraction. "Oh, honey, its a happy-wappy dead little sea horse, come see this cute wittle cowfishy!!! " But I know P can't be distracted. And even if he could, it would piss me off if I was asking E to help me figure something out and he was like, "Aww, its ok. Hey! Did you see the new Bush headline?" So I stuck with the conversation, hoping not to say anything that would confuse him even more. Then yesterday I was looking up information about motion sickness for our upcoming plane trip. P asked about it and I told him I was looking up some medicine. The look he gave me broke my heart. I couldn't fathom why he would look at me like that. We stood looking at each other for a minute (if I was to quiz him about it he would just say "nofin" so I usually wait). Then he asked "you gonna take the dead sea-horse medicine?" Fortunately, my answer was no.

You're probably wondering what sort of torture we've done to the child to wire him this way. It all started with an innocently informative book on a passion of his: sharks. There was a dead shark in the book, one of Many pictures, and it really upset P. At the time I decided a large part of the problem is the structure of society. Most kids don't see anything die these days. My parent's generation saw chickens twirled and cows slaughtered. But a kid in the US, especially a vegetarian city kid, doesn't see much death. So I started to blame myself, that we weren't raising him close enough to the earth etc. But after conversations with other moms, city and country, vegetarian, vegan and meat eaters alike, it appears that it is just P. None of them report problems with books or seeing dead pigeons in the street with their toddlers. After the sea-horse inquisition at the aquarium P was determined to show Emily (Yoav's mama) the window. I was a wee bit concerned about him traumatizing Yoav with his worries, but it wasn't a problem. Yoav wasn't interested and I was relieved when the two started chasing each other. Then I remembered that my father brought me a dried sea-horse from one of his adventures when I was a little girl. I still remember holding it, thinking it was amazing. The death part never even crossed my mind, it was just a pretty treasure.

But P doesn't see the pretty treasure angle. And his death grip goes beyond the metaphysical. He's been fascinated by biology since he turned 2. He loves talking about skeletons, blood and body parts, We were standing beside a pregnant woman on the train one day this spring. Seemingly out of nowhere he turns to me and asks, "When I in you, I in your blood?" It took me a moment to put it together, and that's how P learned about amniotic sacks and belly buttons etc. I think I learned about all of that when I was pregnant :)

So, shortly after the shark incident we saw a dead rat in Central Park. We still naively thought short and sweet was the best approach. His many questions were answered simply with, everything dies, just like the leaves in the fall -its a cycle and its all good. He had made the jump from sharks die to mama dies the week before while I was cooking dinner. But after the rat he realized he too would die. Nothing is sadder than a two year old crying "I no want to die" while you carry him through the park. And it was this realization months ago that leads to his funny pronouncements at quirky times these days. He ate something yummy the other day and told me: "I love this mama. It my favorite thing. I wish I could eat it forever and ever and ever. I eat it all, we get more. I eat That, we get more. Again and again and again, and then I die."

Monday: Baby Walrus and the Beach

There's a new baby walrus at the NY Aquarium. The papa walrus is a total ham, shoving his face against the glass and blowing bubbles for the viewers. This has enamored P with walruses in general and he was pretty psyched to see the baby and spend the afternoon at the beach.

We met his sweet buddy Yoav there and the boys explored the shark, sea horse and walrus exhibits with glee. P feels a trip to the zoo/aquarium isn't complete without a stop in the toy store for some junky safari themed car, so he surprised me this time with his choice of a walrus stuffed animal. Dubbed "Walrus," it has even inspired him to pull out his other stuffed animals for play parties today.

The sun was just warm enough to make splashing in the waves fun but not so hot that we burned. It was perfect. P Loves to run into the waves and then run back out, fake screaming, acting like they are chasing him. The boys enjoyed the simple pleasure of just digging in the sand with their toes. P also made a track for his cars and made sure sand filled every crevasse of our bag during his excavation project.

When the wind picked up and we had eaten enough sand we all headed back to the sub for short ride home. P was exhausted, but he wasn't going to give up easily, so we made Halloween decorations. Basically he just dripped glue, all of the glue, all over construction paper. Its still drying tonight, 24 hours later :) When he finally passed out, he was cradling his baby walrus.

P and Public Peeing

After a lazy morning and a nice nap we wanted one last date with our city before heading to Kansas for a month. More in the mood for mellow than mayhem, we headed to Dumbo. Get the view yet skip, mostly, the tourists.

Its so very Global Warming, but the day was deliciously warm with a little fall breeze added in. We hit the tiny beach first and P made sand homes for all of his cars. Eventually, shouting over the roar of the subway above wore on me and we wandered the park path to the stone beach by the playground. P's favorite pastime with a great view. We chucked rocks and watched people flock to the fashion show across the way. Someone had created a teeter totter out of driftwood on the beach and another family joined us as we tried to balance each other out. P was playing monkey and miraculously didn't get his body squished under the huge board.

After the sun had set and we watched the city light up for the night we walked to dinner. I love eating out with Phoenix because trying new foods excites him so very much. I wish I had the dedication to make something new every night, but we do a lot of ol' reliables at home. The food at Rice was inventive and enjoyable and it was fun to watch him find new flavors.

None of us were ready for the day to end so we wandered back to the water, this time to the view beside the River Cafe (bottom picture, above). One of my mom's favorite local eateries, the River Cafe is no pizza joint. It lies down its own cobbled street, lined with trees lit with beautiful lights, overlooking the water and the city. The food is rated remarkable and there is a dress code. When Phoenix saw the setting he was inspired. "I love this place! It my favorite! I want to stay here forever and ever! Mama, see how pretty it is? Holy Shoot!" He was Dying to walk down the street into the restaurant's area and I really didn't know the protocol. I figured we weren't walking into the actual Restaurant, it couldn't hurt to just walk Around it. So we wandered down, Phoenix getting more and more excited by the additional lights and flowers and the little waterfall. We peered around all of the potted plants and the little garden across from the suited men and then P shimmied between two flower pots. I imagined he was captured by some unusually pretty leaf, as he was standing Really close to the ivy covered wall. I glanced down to see what held his interest and saw.... his penis. He was pottying on the ivy. Granted, he had chosen an impressively private space, but he was nonetheless peeing Right in Front of the Door to the River Cafe. (Myopic mother that I am, one of my first thoughts was that he had been able to pull the front of his pants down by himself this time.) I told myself that no one noticed and tried to chuckle loudly enough to drown out his proud explanation of "I water those plants!" Ahhh.

We were a little sad to say goodnight to the city, and goodbye for the next month, but this incident did make me look forward to being on the farm for a bit where he can pee as he pleases :)

Brooklyn Botanical Gardens

Poor E had to work today. P and E roughhoused on the bed ("you wanna roughhouse papa? wanna wrestle?") all morning and then E schlepped into town. Phoenix wanted some time with Seth and when presented with the options of beach, park, zoo or gardens he chose gardens.

It really was a lovely fall day. The gardens were glorious! P gathered fallen berries from each berry bearing tree, including some interesting gingko fruit and a strange lemon. Then we watched the koi swim while Seth unknowingly sat beside a supermodel. Phoenix's personal destination was the children's garden at the far end of the park. E's stories have featured Crete, minotaurs and labyrinths lately so P was determined to do the mini maze in the kid's section. We ran around "losing" Phoenix and touching all of the textured leaves. I've noticed that despite spending most of his time with me he has inherited the noise-making traits of the Schultz clan. He whizzed down garden paths singing and chanting and puffing. He dodged trolls under the little bridge, walked the balance beam and looked at Uncle Seth through the kaleidoscope.

At closing time we wandered through the park to his favorite pizza place and sat in the amazingly empty backyard by candlelight. He sat still through most of the meal but eventually tried to use Seth as a jungle gym. Before getting spazzy though, he leaned in and said "I love you Uncle Seth." When Seth returned the sentiment P initiated one of his current favorite word games that he gleaned from the book "How much do you love me?" In the book, an eskimo girl asks her mother how much she is loved and how long she will be loved. P's version tonight went something like this "How much you love me than this pizza?" And even though it is Outstanding pizza, P was picked and he was pleased.

Thursday: Central Park and the Zoo

Thursday's plan included a LLL meeting and a trip to the Met with pals for the Start with Art program. Due to P's cold/teething combo we'd only left the house once (to play with Malek) all week! The morning went swimmingly, grabbing our bagel only ran us 30 minutes late for the LLL meeting :) We don't go regularly, I think this was our 3rd meeting ever, but its nice to occasionally be around mom's with lots of nursing experience. There's always lots of toys and kids and a generally supportive atmosphere.

All P knew was that we were off for a day's adventure and he was very leery when I started up the stoop to the meeting. After quizzing me about where we were headed he told me he was a little nervous and wasn't sure he wanted to go. I told him I was sometimes nervous going to new places too. He said "You nervous they gonna knock you down and take your toys?" I almost melted. Here was the key to his play-group anxiety! He'll often agree to a play-date (with a promise from me that I won't let kid's steal his toys), but a play-group is a stretch for him most days. Apparently, the poor kid has really taken it to heart when he's been hit. Understandably, but for some reason it still surprised me. I guess because he never cries or anything when he's attacked - he just tries to make nice and looks nervous. Apparently, he's very nervous.

We talked it through and went to the meeting. I had a quick night-weaning question (we night-weaned 5 months ago but Phoenix has yet to accept it!) during which he loudly announced to the whole group "This place is freaking me out! Let's get out of here!" Everyone laughed so he had to repeat it about 5 times and then we were off to Central Park.

We started towards the Zoo but were sidetracked by some big boulders to race cars on. When it came time for the Met he stalled and stuttered, so we skipped it. Enough big groups for one day - he wanted to play with "just you, mom." We meandered to different areas of the park, looking for the just right dirt-pile, just the right rock to race on. These were all things we could have done in Prospect Park, but Central Park is just special. There's the beautiful backdrop, of course. And you can't beat bumper cars on boulders beside a live jazz quartet. He nixed his nap, pulled handfuls of grass from the Great Lawn and then ran over a woman's painting. I suggested it was time for the Tisch Zoo.

We had somehow missed the existence of the Children's Zoo in Central Park. Perhaps it was the pull of the big polar bear that had blinded us, but I was excited to have finally discovered it. Though short on actual animals, it was long on fun. There were lots of lily pads to leap (P's personal favorite), giant bunnies ("Where their faces go? They lose them?"), turtle shells and eggs to crawl in, alpacas to feed, giant spider-webs to climb and tunnels to run through. He had a blast and I didn't knock him down or steal his toys even once:)

Alacazat and Asses

So, I'm not a big fan of movies for young kids. All of the fast editing. I won't get started on the subject. But stories and books are supposed to be safe, right? Yesterday had me wondering...

We were playing hide-and-go-seek with one of his cars. I found the car and oh-so-smoothly stuck it in my back pocket asking P where could it be? When he saw the empty hiding space he was grinning but confused. This is how he tried to work it out in his mind while I just smiled:

"Where it go mama? Where Doc? Maybe you do magic mama? You do magic mama? How bout we not do magic and we get him back? You say alacazat.... Where is him? Where is him mama? Maybe you ate him? Poop him out of your mouth. You ate him mama? Let's find the car."

Soooooo.... E's been telling him stories that often feature his fairy godmother who says alacazat. Just a sweet story to us, apparently a real possibility to him. I can just see him losing us on the subway and screaming Alacazat to ask his fairy godmother for help. Great. The second half of his reasoning is inspired by a Schultz family favorite that features Froggy the hand. He eats pennies and such and then spits them out or disposes of them in the, um, other direction. Apparently, P has combined this action into the one swell mouth pooping possibility.

This illustrated a point Alfie Kohn makes on punishment. You can Intend for your child to learn X through a certain punishment, but there's no way to insure that. A child learns what makes sense to Their brain, not ours (and, generally, with punishment, they just learn that we're assholes). But it also made me wonder about Santa and stories in general. Should I constantly tell him things aren't real, only a story? Seems honest, but slightly cynical. Do I let him keep the magic alive in his head? The answer isn't clear to me. I'll have to figure it out sometime, but for the time being, I magically pulled the car out of my ass when he said Alacazat.

Wolves

P Loves books. Right now he's unusually enthralled by Halloween stories of witches, monsters etc. But wolves have reined as king for a while now. It all started with "Little Red." Its a spin-off of the classic Little Red Riding Hood, but with gorgeous, semi-macabre illustrations where the illustrious cape wearer is a boy that delivers ginger ale. The whole book is brilliant right down to the wolf burping out ol' granny, but the boy's pantry always confused P. It's a typical past era, meat-eater's pantry featuring pig's head's, bunnies and ducks hanging from hooks and mice noshing on large cheese wheels. We went over the dead heads countless times and that page still caught him with each read. I was slightly glad when our renewals were up and we returned it;)

In it's stead came "Wolves" by Emily Gravett. Slightly less gorgeous but much more informative, the book seems to end with the lead character's (a bunny's) death. As the bunny reads a book about wolves within this book, he learns a wolves' typical diet includes... bunnies. And on the page that provides this information the bunny is gone, leaving behind his scratched and torn wolves book. When we got to this page P was horrified. "Where the bunny mama? The wolf eat him? Why his book all scratched? The wolf eat him? Where is he?" I know this is a hot spot for P, and as I silently cursed myself for not flipping through before reading I turned the page to see a note. It was from the author and explained that no bunnies were hurt in the writing of this book, it is a work of fiction. And for more sensitive souls an alternate ending was provided. The two year old didn't understand this, but the next page he did. It showed the ripped up bunny and wolf eating a sandwich collaged out of the book's pieces and described how the bunny was in luck. This wolf was a vegetarian and they shared a jam sandwich and became best friends. I thought P was going to explode with happiness when I read this. Book after book after book has gone against his personal preferences and here was one that validated him. He actually jumped up and down saying "I love this book! It my favorite!! Read it again, mama, read it again!!"

Getting a beer with Uncle Seth

Monday P played in his bean bin. Sometimes this goes swimmingly, sometimes it gets messy. Yesterday was messy. It never ceases to amaze me how he can scatter dried beans from one end of the playroom to the other in the time it takes me to retrieve the laundry from the dryer. We are obviously working with different elements of time :) The old picture, above, is from a different day, a non messy day, if this gives you any idea.

So after he was finished being the wind or whatever I started to clean. Sometimes he jumps right in to help, sometimes he doesn't. Yesterday, he didn't. He wandered around opening his drawers looking for something. He gathered his keys and his phone and told me Uncle Seth was on it. I asked him to take a message and I'd call him back after the beans were in the bin. He did so. Then he asked me to help him find his wallet. I looked and didn't see it and went back to picking up beans. He kept looking, saying he really needed his wallet, he was going on a sub and needed his sub card. A couple of minutes later he said "Oh well. Sorry, mama. I can't play with you [clean]. I'm going bye bye to meet Uncle Seth for a beer."

Unschooling the B69

An unschooling aside: We aren't "teaching" P his letters. After a lot of reading we concur completely with the unschooling philosophy of outside introduction. We answer all of his endless questions and let his fiery curiosity lead his learning. I believe in this wholeheartedly, I do. But hearing other kids recite their ABC's or 123's and be quizzed on letters can be a bit unnerving, square peg on a round globe and such. So, the other day when we were cooking P wanted to know how long before something would be ready. I told him 15 minutes. He went to our big clock in the playroom and asked me to show him where the clock's hand would be (a pretty common occurrence). So I showed him the spot and told him "When it reaches the 6, here, it will be ready." Then he pointed to the 9 and said "9. There's the 6 and 9, where's B for the B69?" I was positively tickled. Since we don't quiz him on his knowledge we have to patiently trust the learning that is happening - I don't know what numbers or letters he knows until he announces them like this. The B69 is our bus - we've never purposely showed him the numbers before and he's learned from his world in a way that matters to him. I love watching organic learning!

Sunday: Sleepy Hollow

In our previous lives as non-parents E and I had visited Sleepy Hollow Cemetery one Halloween and were awed by the fall foliage. Irving's grave lies in this hilly, gorgeous space with a slow, little town at the base of said hill. We knew it was a bit early for the leaves to have reached their full splendor, but thought P might enjoy running around the idyllic area. Despite a late night, Phoenix's awesome Uncle Seth was up for the adventure and beat us to Times Square Sunday morning.

We split our trip into two sections knowing the commute to Grand Central combined with the train ride up the Hudson might be asking a bit much of the wee one. He hadn't yet experienced the Toys R Us in Times Square (a short walk from Grand Central) so we went there for a morning of play. For those not indoctrinated into the commercial mayhem of this store, there is an entire Ferris Wheel (replete with branded toy faces) spanning the store's 3 levels (P enjoyed the ride). An air-born Superman saves a life-size truck and the robotic T-rex is some 25 feet high (this fascinated him). And the toys, oh my. Almost an entire level was dedicated to things with wheels. This, of course, was where we spent our time. Phoenix's list grew exponentially during this outing.

The train ride was lovely. Phoenix snoozed the whole trip and we watched the cliffs and boats along the Hudson. He awoke as we left the train and after a late lunch and some ice-cream we walked up to the cemetery. The sign said it should be closed, but the gates hung wide open and we wandered up the path. The tombstones reach back to the 1800's and range from tiny hand-carved blocks to beautiful sculptures. P told me he was a bit nervous about it all, being 2 and preoccupied by death can do that, but he seemed to get over it as he raced his new car on top of the gorgeous graves.

After exploring a little we hiked down to the river and P indulged in one of his favorite pastimes, throwing rocks in water. When the sun started to set we headed to the gate only to find it locked. Padlocked. We hopped a short spot and meandered back to the station where E wound a fabulous yarn while we waited for our train. If he so much as paused for an inhale P would chant "Story. Story! STORY!" E and Seth took turns telling tales the whole ride back to Grand Central. We've found nothing captivates Phoenix quite like an adventure story starring himself. Specifically P saving something or escaping something and making friends with mythological creatures. But in a pinch, even a review of his day will do. (I guess everyone has their weakness :) When we finally made it home we realized there hadn't been a single glitch to the day, no tantrums, tears, really no trials of any kind. Not that any of those things are problems, but sometimes easy is nice. It was such an easy day in fact, that it reminded me of when we went BP (before P), but with the added benefit, of course, of P.

Fun Times Friday

We met P's best buddy Malek at the playground Friday. (Yes, out of the house!!) The boys had fun playing the popular toddler game of aimlessly chasing one another. They of course have no idea what to do when they catch each other, but the chasing seems to be enough. Around the equipment and down the swirly slide is their current favorite. I was reminded today that toddlers are a pretty outspoken/demanding lot (how could i forget?) and I think this is why P often balks at play-dates. When other kids yell at him he tends to force a smile or try to disappear. If the yelling is over an object, he hands the bounty to the buddy and sweetly says "here you go" while he bounces his head up and down in an exaggerated fashion. (I've come to recognize the big head bounce as a sure sign of his discomfort; its as if he hopes that with enough validating-type nodding he can get the other person to nod and smile too.) Now if the object in question belongs to him, the spirited little baby I've always known steps up, like last week when he stood up to the bullies. And if the object in question is me (i.e. some kid dumping sand on my feet or taking a toy he thinks I'm playing with), forgettaboutit. I've never felt so fiercely protected in my life. If the object in question is him, he is torn. He wants to meet the other's expectations, but if he isn't comfortable with their demands, he freezes, unsure of this grey area.

We work hard to come up with solutions everyone is comfortable with at home (no forced bedtimes, food requirements or rules etc), so he doesn't deal with demands daily. (Other than his own!) He's always been so strong, some might even say willful :) around us that seeing him shrink to please or accommodate feels like watching an emotional train wreck. I know he'll get used to kids yelling someday and that interactions change as kids grow, but its a pretty painful process to watch. When he was younger I worried that he would bulldoze over the world with his will. Now a whole new side is emerging. This one understands there are expectations and will even bend to them to keep the peace. I know this is part of living in a community, but its actually a little sad to watch some of the fire go.

After a spin on the swings we all went for pizza and then briefly watched the tractors before heading home for naps. And after an afternoon of playing and cooking at home with a brief stint as a construction worker P had a visit from Uncle Seth. The world revolves around Seth when he is here. (Actually, even when he's not. P made muffins this morning and when they came out he picked one for himself - and one for Seth. He even wanted to pack it in a bag for him.) The only downside to such excitement is, well, all of the excitement. From the moment Seth walks in the door until the teary eyed moment that he leaves, P is All Over Him. I'd post pictures of their play but they are all blurry from the intense tickling/wrestling/running movements inherent in these interactions :) I love that P has these fantastic extended-family moments to keep his seemingly sensitive faith in social interactions high. At the end of the day, difficulties be damned, P really, really likes his sweet buddies. But for Phoenix, there's nobody quite like Uncle Seth.