Freedom and a Wet Blanket

"The love of one's country is a splendid thing. But why should love stop at the border?"
~Pablo Casals


"It's sad that people had to die just so they couldn't boss us around anymore."
~Nate, age 6

I'm pretty sure I am ill equipped to cover the history discussions in this house any further. I hate that my child is grown up enough to know that war exists and that war equals death. The good news is that I am far more upset by the whole thing than he is. It reminds me of the time a few years ago when he was in preschool and told me the story of proclaiming his love to a little girl in his class, only to have her bash him in the head with her lunchbox. I was crushed. My attempts to quell what I assumed was his broken heart, were met with stoicism, "Actually, Mom, she just hates me."

Clearly, I learn much more slowly than he does.

Karate Kid

Of all the activities he's tried, this is the one he's been most excited about.

Run, Faster!

Yesterday, I had the sweet pleasure of some quiet time. Quiet time around here often involves Scooby Doo, so the sweetness is not guilt free--but not this time. This time, Nate decided to make good use out of the reams of scratch paper he acquired when Grandpa cleaned out his office. What does one do with a ream of paper, several glue sticks, scissors, ribbon, straws and miscellaneous other scrap and construction paper? One builds a kite, of course.

I declined his offers to let me help with the design and construction of the kite. I simply disallowed the use of super glue, and promptly left him to his devices.

An hour or so later, he emerged with what he said was a dinosaur kite complete with cutout spots and a lovely red ribbon. Shaun had concerns about how to handle the impending request to now fly the kite down at the bay. We decided to encourage a test run in the alley. I also decided I wanted nothing to do with it given his proclivity to blame me for all sorts of circumstances I had no idea I had control over.

He was easily convinced to give it a try in the alley, but there was no escaping my participation so I braced myself for a meltdown and asked for explicit instruction on how I could assist. Another hour later we were running down the alley and the kite was "flying", a testament to speed rather than construction, but whatever, that pile of papers was flying. A few more times down the alley and papers were flying in many directions.

Happily, Nate reported that each time the kite fell apart, he would simply glue it back together...and he did.


Construction has started on the house at the end of the alley and between kite runs he decided to sneak a use of the port-a-potty on the premises...but don't tell Daddy...what a forbidden thrill!


The next morning I was up with the puppy playing fetch in the backyard when Nate woke and joined us, holding himself. I asked, did he need to use the bathroom and he said, "Yes, but first I have to get my shoes on", (to go down the alley to the port-a-potty).

I wonder how that's going to work with the middle of the night trips to the loo.

"Believe Me"

I can't believe I had never been.


We'll definitely be back.


When we left Nate confirmed that the $5 entrance fee was worth it, "I will be happy to pay next time Mom, it's beautiful there."


Such a sweet kid, so willing to share his allowance. Too bad, on the way into the park he suggested that we "trick" the attendant and say we lived in the neighborhood so we wouldn't have to pay. There's a whole lotta "trickery" going on in these parts lately.

Kinder Jog-a-Thon

Today I am grateful for the Jog-a-Thon at school, Nate's enthusiasm for it, his teacher and Shaun who made time to cheer him on when my schedule went haywire. There was some of this:


I'm guessing a fair amount of this:


And then,


with an orange slice and a goal met, it was over.

Open House ECD

Sunday, was Open House at Nathan's new school. It seems we couldn't have found a better teacher for our little music man. She sings with the kids everyday, he literally comes home with new songs daily! Not only does she read to them, she tells them stories and often the singing and stories are accompanied by complimentary food, for example, they tried porridge to go along with Goldilocks' saga last week and coconut cream pie in honor of my favorite song thus far.

The kids alternate "jobs" in the classroom, as in life, some are more sought after than others. So far Nathan has been 'chair pusher inner', which I am told is very boring; 'snack helper', though it sounds good, turns out your services are only needed in the event the snack table runs out; the big granddaddy of them all so far has been 'bell ringer', where not only do you get to ring the triangle, but you get the illusion of control over your classmates, what's not to love?


When asked if we had specific areas of concern for Nathan, in this last year before kindergarten, we responded that academics were of little worry--that we were more concerned that he find his way and his voice on the playground and generally with his peers. Ms L told us she was not at all concerned, that he interacted throughout the day through all sorts of experiences. She told me that he clearly makes his needs known and if he wants to join in the circle time conversation, not only does he join, but he often will stand to speak and make an announcement of what he has to say. In fact he did just that during the circle we shared at open house, and that was with plenty of extra adult strangers. (As it were, tomato worms in the garden were eating up the harvest.) So it seems the pendulum may have swung.


Ms L indicated that Nathan was more interested in the Language part of the classroom than Mathematics right now. This did not surprise us as he can not pass a sign on the street, a book cover, a piece of junk mail, or any words in his path without knowing what they say. Further, he questions the etymology. "Mommy, why do they call it 'arrow'? It doesn't have 'air'", and then as if I don't understand, "you know, like the air all around us." Then there was, "Mommy, why do they call it a lie-braree? They don't lie there." Occasionally, I am fortunate and he answers his own questions, in this case, "Ohhh, they call it a lie-bra-ree, cause you read there." Then there's the logic. I was driving yesterday, Shaun in the passenger seat and Nathan asked what the words on the side view mirror said. Shaun told him, you know the ones, "objects in mirror are closer than they appear". Shaun tried to give an explanation suitable to a four year old, it did not suffice, not even close. There is to be no joking or distracting of this child when he wants answers. It is serious business. He truly becomes angry if you put him off. He understood that the words were a warning, but followed up with the usual, "but how does that help?". Only after a thorough explanation of what the side mirrors are used for in driving and then an example of what might happen if one did not heed the warning, did he let it go. Holy cow, it's no wonder I am exhausted by 9am.


As we were leaving Open House, there were many signs to read and explain as I do everyday, but this time he noticed a new one right by the front door. One that he had never inquired about, one that, to my knowledge he has not come in contact with anywhere.
We were walking out the door and Nathan asked, "Mommy, why does that say 'PULL'?" I began to explain it in the best way I knew how, without instilling fear or worry, mentioning that the fire department was going to visit the school next week to teach the kids fire safety, blah, blah, blah. The three of us were walking along and he was listening intently and no doubt forming all sorts of follow up questions, when suddenly I realized, he just read that! He just read that. "Hey, do you know what?" "No, what?" "You just read that sign all by yourself!" To say he was pleased with himself would be a bit of an understatement. He delivered his most excited smile. The kind that push his cheeks up so far that his eyes are mashed into a squint, his hands come together up under his chin where he wrings them like a mad scientist, and there is jumping, yes jumping. It was really quite delightful, a moment I'm glad we all shared. He is on the precipice of his little world getting a whole lot bigger; I hope he doesn't leave me completely in the dust too soon, I'm not quite ready. I must admit though, the words "go look it up" may save my sanity if not my soul.

First Boat

On this day, we needed a field trip and fast. I decided the hottest day of the year when everyone was cranky to begin with might be the ideal time to head out to explore a new spot in East County where it is generally at least ten degrees hotter and the air doesn't move at all except from your own breath.


Santee Lakes is nice enough and I would definitely like to go back when the weather is cooler, but it won't be the place I pack up our family for a camping trip any time soon, or ever. There are five man-made lakes stocked for fishing, great walking paths, playgrounds, boating, and even a water feature playground.


The "campground" was everything we avoided when I camped with my family as a kid. It consisted of a very large gravel parking lot with ginormously long, narrow spaces to accommodate the homes on wheels that came to park there. There was nary a tent, pop-up trailer, tree, fire ring or picnic table in sight. Oddly, there was not a person to be found either, if not for the satellite dishes carefully placed and the air conditioners running at full capacity, I would have thought it truly was a parking lot. We were not to be disappointed in the vast quantity or array of homes requiring driver's licenses to view, as next we came upon several car ports the size of football fields designed to store the monstrous vehicles, vehicles that I am certain cost more than the median priced home across these United States. Ironic though it seemed, we were happy to see solar panels atop the carports, apparently generating a great percentage of the energy needed to operate the entire park. (As far as alternative energy sources, I'm thinking miles of windmills are much more attractive, but I suppose that is just a ridiculous side note.)

Paraffin

Tonight Nathan was helping to prepare dinner of a simple green salad and barbecue chicken pizza with Gouda cheese. He loves the Dutch delight and even more so since his preschool class was assigned Holland for International Day in May. Yes, Gouda cheese is the best and one of the things that makes it the best is the wonderful red wax that it is packaged in. A simple pleasure, but a pleasure nonetheless to peel away that wax in one soft piece revealing the mild goodness within.

Nathan was up at the prep counter, standing next to me on his chair in our kitchen. The salad was made, table set, all that remained was to assemble our pizza. Instinctively, he knew the Gouda must be freed from it's encasement unmarred, whole and beautiful. He worked slowly and methodically. Deep in concentration a question came to his mind, and for me, the Gouda will never be the same. "Mommy, is this the same kind of wax that comes out of my ears?"

What else is there really?

As we were leaving music class last Saturday, Nathan spotted a dandelion full of fluff, just waiting to be wished upon. He yanked it out of the ground, thought for a moment, took a deep breath, and blew that weed to smithereens. He answered my expectant look, "I wished for love."

Negotiator

Some months ago Nathan regurgitated some version of the perils of watching too much television, "Too much TV makes your brain go away", he informed us. Mind you the child loves television and asks for it at every lull in the day's events. Not only at every lull, but every afternoon when he is tuckered out from a long day, he must watch "100" of his favorite shows. Yesterday, in the midst of a tantrum he even asked to watch tv to help calm himself down. What an operator.

Despite the fact that certain members of the family don't approve of the programming offered by PBS and the Noggin channels--too much brainwashing--we do allow it on a regular basis, maybe too regular a basis even. A little brainwashing on the virtues of recycling and kindness is well worth saving my own sanity.

Today after it was time to turn off the tv, he decided to beg, whine and cry for more, (I soooo get how parents cave under the pressure and annoyance of the never ending whine) he brought out a new argument, "But Mommy, I have too much brains, so I have to watch more tv." Nice try kid.

It's Not the Stork

I have been given no reprieve from the discussions of baby making. Suffice it to say that my child is not interested in the city or hospital he was born in when he asks "Where did I come from?" I have been a little shocked at some of the opinions shared when I've asked others how they have handled questions of bird and bee. One person with several kids insisted, adamantly even, that it is best to tell children a story about a large, baby delivering bird. Seriously. Another friend reminded me to make the distinction about the parties being grown up and married. She would be one having a more clear understanding of my baby loving and scientific son.

The best advice of course is to simply answer a child's questions as they come up. Don't offer more than what they are asking and they will only continue to ask what they are ready to hear. Okay, makes sense. Or so I thought. I actually do know my son relatively well and have had very long question and answer sessions about such things as how electricity flows through power lines, the origin of the foods on his plate, and the detailed operation of a motor vehicle. Why I thought I would be able to have this conversation in 22 seconds or less, is really beyond me.

I have checked out many books from the library and also searched on line for just the right presentation for my inquisitive son. I had yet to pre-screen the books and had to come up with some answers fast so I resorted to Google. I was directed to the Mayo Clinic's website where they offered a bit about babies being created from a "very special hug" between a mommy and a daddy. I thought this might be the perfect response. Pretty real with no gory details, no experiments that needed to be carried out et cetera. Nathan asked the question again not ten minutes after I read this suggestion so I decided to give it a try. I regurgitated it verbatim, my words carried with the tone of a gentle breeze I was so confident. That feeling lasted all of about a nanosecond, at which time Nathan looked at me like I was the idiot I am and said "But...How?" The moment of truth was upon me. I joined him at at his little table in the kitchen, elbows on knees, looked at him intently and said, "A baby is made from a very special part from a man and a very special part from a woman. Those special parts come together and they grow and grow in the womb until they make a baby." As I said this, I motioned absently with each of my index fingers and then brought them together signifying the joining of the special cells to create a zygote. By the time I finished my sentence and brought my fingers together, his eyes lit up, the corners of his lips crept into a smile and he exclaimed "I wanna do that!" Yes indeed.

Ever since, the conversation is easier, a good book is on the shelf, special parts have been named properly. I am hoping we are good for awhile. These posts are all about preserving memories for our little family, so I can not close without mentioning another related conversation that is particularly relevant to us.

"Mommy?"

"Yeah?"

"So, Mommy, what if I find someone I really love, and then get married, then 'cide to have a baby, and then, what if I can't?"

He is a gift I tell you.

"Well, then there are other options," I said. "One option might be that you get help from a doctor to have a baby, just like Daddy and I had help to have you."

"Oh, okay."

And then, there was the photo shoot. Though we have gotten down to real terms on a lot of things, my initial explanation combined with the joining of pointed index fingers has made a lasting impression it might seem. Last weekend Nathan was tooling around the house taking pictures of everyone and everything. Soon enough he was commanding us around like we were contestants on America's Top Model or the like and motioned me in the direction of Shaun with the wave of a hand, "Mommy, go sit next to Daddy!" Another snap happy person might ask his subjects to "Smile!" or perhaps the traditional "Say Cheese!" But no, he jumped up and down and happily directed us to "Pretend like you're making a baby! Smile, put your fingers together and pretend like you are making a baby!"

Abracadabra

Nathan has started the daunting task of figuring out what he'd like to do with the rest of his life, and none too soon I might add, he is four years old for god's sake.

No shock, that most important, and first on his list when he reaches adulthood, (you know, at ten years old), is marriage and babies. Only then, can he settle into some type of work that pleases him. Initially, he considered being a policeman; next I heard doctor; and most recently, he changed his mind from whence I never knew it flit. Indeed, he has now informed me not once, but twice, that he no longer wants to go to magic school. Why, why would any boy of four years change his mind about the wonder and excitement of a career in magic? His unsolicited explanation was, because he may learn to make me disappear and never be able to get me back.

He's a heartbreaker this one. I'm pretty sure that sentiment won't last beyond next week, but I intend to enjoy it while I can.

In case you were wondering...

"We can't kill our pets and make them into boots ya know."


(This was a residual comment a few days after visiting the reptile house at the zoo.)Slightly awkward that this post follows the one remembering Jasper who we lost in December 07. I better talk to Nathan about the sequence of his comments, doesn't he know I'm recording some of this stuff?!?!)

Remembering Jasper

Nathan: "Is Jasper in Heaven?"

Mommy: "Yes, honey."

Nathan: "What do you do in Heaven?"

Mommy: "Well, I think you do all of your favorite things."

Nathan: "I think you do nothing in Heaven cause you're died."

Wish it was Sunday

Typically, I don't mind Mondays at all. I quite enjoy the rhythm of our weeks and by the end of the weekend I am ready for it all to begin fresh and new.

Today was a new day, but certainly not very fresh. It started off well enough but quickly went astray. Our usual routine was interrupted for Nathan's four year well check. The nurse, then the doctor had him do many tasks and tests designed to check developmental progress as well as hearing and eye function. Shocking as it was, his hearing is perfect. The eyes are just less than and will require a follow up appointment with a pediatric ophthalmologist. I expect it will be routine.

He listened to and responded well to the requests of the doctor, which was a clear improvement from his three year well check where he was quite reserved; until, that is, we came to the matter of drawing the picture of a person. In fairness, the nurse probably erred with this particular patient in her efforts to motivate. When he showed no immediate interest in drawing a person, she suggested he draw a character from a movie, nada. She began to list movie characters that he might choose from, of which he has little to no exposure and knew nothing of what she spoke. She began to give movie reviews on, I presume, every animated film known to pediatric nurses. Still nothing. Finally, she told him to just "draw whatever you want". He looked at her wide-eyed as though she was slightly demented; certainly she was not bringing out his inner artist.

The morning was filled with confrontations, mostly with myself. First, Nathan made a liar of me when I proudly announced that he knew his letters for the eye exam. Next, he raised his right arm when she asked for his left and the whole drawing fiasco goes without saying. Then there was the issue of my credit card being denied for the lousy copay and the academy award winning scene when I dropped him at school. Finally en route to climb aboard the sinking ship that is my livelihood, there was a metal ladder being flung about the freeway like a beach ball at a summer concert. Thankfully, I and my vehicle, escaped unscathed.

Later in the evening I decided to bring out the writing materials to see about this drawing business for myself. With the threat of shots lifted from his concern and being in his comfort zone, surely he would comply. Uh, not so much. When all else fails, cheat, so I started him off with a circle and he was on his way. I'm pretty sure he is okay, he added several elements to his 'unfinished man'. I'm not certain how many are expected for so called 'normal' development at four years old, but do you suppose it's a problem that one of those features was a deep furrow between the brows?

As if my day weren't complete enough as it was, I went for more, just to be sure. I inquired about this and that on his person, and when we got to the two little lines in question, he couldn't quite name them, but got his point across just fine. "You know, those things", he said squinching up his own face while glaring at the space in question on mine. Oh yeah, those.

Details, details...

"Mommy? But how did I get OUT of your tummy?"

This just gets better and better. I wonder if there is some toddler reality show in production about how to mess with uptight parents, so I try to take it in stride and nonchalantly reply, "Through the birth canal".

Internally, I am screaming "I don't want to deal with this right now, I'm not ready!"

Yeah, whatev, apparently, he is ready, so pull it together Momma.

Do Unto Others

Mommy: "What is it called when we treat someone the way we want to be treated?"

Nathan: "The Golden Rule."

Mommy: "Would you like it if I were kicking you?"

Nathan: "No, but it doesn't hurt me when I kick you."

Baby Fever

Nathan loves babies. He seeks them out and can be quite obsessed with helping them, taking care of them, showing them affection, basically stalking them. There has even been a full blown meltdown in a children's clothing store where he insisted on buying infant clothing for the baby that he would somehow procure. When questioned as to how he would facilitate this plan, he has come up with varying answers from buying a baby at the store to taking one home from the park. Lest you be fearful that he would leave some poor woman childless, he has it worked out such that the family from which he will seize the baby will have other children, so they won't miss just one. He's thoughtful like that.

Nathan has now matured and grown and no longer talks of bringing strange babies home. Now he simply lets his needs be known along with asking for clarity around some of the details he has yet to work out.

Our conversation over breakfast yesterday morning:

"Mommy, I want a baby."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I want a baby in your tummy, then...a baby."

"Yes, I would like that too, but it's not always that easy."

He continued eating his breakfast and I went about packing his lunch for preschool and emptying the dishwasher. Have I mentioned that he is fascinated with how things work? Yes, very much so, and this was to be no exception.

"Mommy? But how does somebody get in your tummy to be a baby?"

My head spun with the many possibilities of how to answer the question. This question that we have known was imminent. I wanted to choose just the right amount of information to give him while at the same time laying the foundation for all the questions that would follow not only in this moment, but also in the years to come. Answers that do not meet his satisfaction are typically met with a barrage of additional questions that generally make my head hurt, lead me to pour a glass of wine and lock myself in my room. Being that it was 7am, I deemed this not to be the most appropriate course of action. After a few deep breaths, the simplicity of my answer emerged from the hollows of my brain while I noticed that he had been silent those 15 seconds of my despair. As I had struggled, he had moved on.

"Mommy? Did my water come from an animal?"

I was granted a reprieve for which I am grateful. The swift kick in the fanny was duly noted just the same.

Ok, I'll play...Interview with a 4 year old

Mommy: "How would you describe me?"

Nathan: "I don't know"

Mommy: "What makes me happy?"

Nathan: "Not wasting."

Mommy: "What makes me sad?"

Nathan: "Not Listening."

Mommy: "What is something I always say to you?"

Nathan; "I love you."

Mommy: "What makes me laugh?"

Nathan: "A joke."

Mommy: "How old am I?"

Nathan: "10"

Mommy: "How tall am I?"

Nathan: "6"

Mommy: "What is my favorite thing to do?"

Nathan: "I don't know."

Mommy: What do you think I do when you are not around?"

Nathan: "I don't know."

Mommy: "What am I good at?"

Nathan: "I don't know."

Mommy: "What am I not so good at?"

Nathan: "I don't know."

Mommy: "What is my job?"
Nathan: "Working"

Mommy: "What do you love to do with me?"

Nathan: "Play."

Mommy: "How are you and I the same?"

Nathan: "Blond hair"

Mommy: "How are we different?"

Nathan: "You're taller."

Mommy: "How do you know I love you?"

Nathan: "Because you say 'I love you.'

Mommy: "What do you think I like the most about Daddy?"

Nathan: "Hugs"

Mommy: "Where is my favorite place to go?"

Nathan: "I don't know."

Mommy: "What is your favorite thing about me?'

Nathan: "Kisses and that I love you."

Mommy: "Do you know how much I love you?"

Nathan: "No."

Incredulously: "You don't?"

Pacifying: "Really much."

Can you say iPhone?

Today we spent a couple of hours with friends trekking around in "nature", best we can find it around these parts, mostly collecting rocks from "the rock area" and throwing them in the lake. Sam shone as nature walk leader getting the kids to use their deductive reasoning skills and pointing out new and different sights. One of the many reasons I like getting together with other families is to observe new ways of doing things, presenting information, disciplining etc...I love the fresh perspective and I'm sure Nathan enjoys it as well.

We headed further North for dinner with Grandpa after the lake. He treated us to a most fabulous seafood soup in a little hole in the wall Mexican place that Grandma had discovered. Never would it even occur to me to try a soup in a place like this, there are usually too many other ooey, gooey, cheesy delights to choose from. Nathan must not have been particularly hungry when our soup arrived because, much to my dismay, there was way more discussion than I prefer over matters I just as soon not spend much time thinking about. Such as the workings of the juke box and Mommy's inability to operate it, the "whiskers" on the shrimp, what octopus use their suckers for, and the life cycle of the ginormous clam in our soup. We talked about how the clams used certain muscles to open and close their shells and that when we cook them in our soup they open up when they are done cooking.

Eventually, we made our way back to Grandpa's house, walked the dog, had a special treat and then left Grandpa to get a good night's rest for his big bike ride in the morning and started the forty five minute drive home.

There was little chance of sleep en route home, as he had taken an unheard of nap on the way up. We listened to music, we chatted about the day, and we were quiet.

Eventually, from the darkness I hear "Mommy?"

"Yeah, hon?"

A little bit, but not really, from left field, "Mommy, if they are cooked, then how do they open their shells?"

Translation: "Mommy, if they (the clams) are cooked (dead), then how do they (use their muscles to) open their shells?"

I may need to rename my meanderings "Stupid Mommy" because this is not the first question I have taken more time to consider (google) than my four year old audience generally allows. I am forever plagued by a deafening buzzer in my head, reminding me of my ineptitude. I take solace only in the knowledge, that it is I, most often, that can accurately determine exactly the question and if not for an accurate question, there is no chance for a correct answer. That's what I tell myself anyway.