On The Road With Anna

Anna and I went to Rochester to say goodbye to my Grandma. It is a trip no one ever wants to make, but Anna, as usual, always makes the best out of things.
Even when she has no idea she is doing it.
--

To make a long story short: our first attempt to get to Rochester involved driving with all three of the children. Jack made short work of that idea by managing to throw up twice before we crossed the George Washington Bridge. At that point, Mommy unilaterally invoked (at least the idea of a) Plan B. After an extended cleanup at a Palisades Parkway rest stop, the family car did a quick U-turn back towards the relatively rose-scented shores of Manhattan.

Which is why Anna and I ended up flying to Rochester and coming back the next day. She said some truly amazing things:

• Overheard by everyone standing in the very, very long line at the Jet Blue women's bathroom:
  
  "Hold your pee, Mommy, it's not our turn!"
  
  She said this very, very loudly.
  This after complaining for at least five minutes about (1) the fact that she did NOT have to go to the bathroom and then following it up with (2) the fact that there was a line. And then she tried to make me look like the flaky one.
  
  
• For a brief, very brief moment, I thought that, perhaps, Anna favoring Jack might be waning a bit. As it turns out, Anna was just being practical, and is still very much partial.
  
  "I want to travel with just Thomas.
  [Wow! all right! I am good!]
  Because he doesn't get 'the sickness' in the car."
  
  
• And then, back to old form as far as Jack. But this time on the sly:
  
  "Hey Mommy, I am very good at carrying around dark-haired little boys..."
  

--
And then, before bed: "Mommy, I can't find heaven on my globe."
Sigh.

Why Jack Is Smarter Than I Am

(1) It's morning. It's early. Or late. I can't remember.
Anyway, for some reason I am sitting on the floor with my bowl of Grape Nuts watching Thomas and Jack watch Blues Clues.

This, of course, lasts for about 5 seconds, at which point the brothers get a whiff of that (surprisingly aromatic) cold cereal. They pounce. They both love Grape Nuts. We do the communal spoon thing. Quite a bonding moment. Tiny Grape Nut nuts everywhere.

After about two spoonfuls, Jack stops and runs to the kitchen. I hear a drawer open. I hear rustling in the 'kid tableware' drawer. Cups are tumbling. Bowls are clanking.
At this point, I choose to apply what I refer to as my '3-child-Zen-groggy-brain' technique (thank you, Uma), in the form of:
Hmnnn, what's the worse that could happen?

... and just try to enjoy the sound of plastic cups and spoons being scattered about.
After a while, I hear the drawer close.
Then Jack is back. He hands me one of Anna's breakfast trays (think multiple compartments for cereal, yogurt, fruit, etc) and points to the table. Good idea, buddy.

(2) Have you read Polar Bear, Polar Bear, What Do you Hear?
I was reading it to the boys the other night. When we got to the page about the hippopotamus, I read it with the usual gusto. Did you know that "the sound" that hippos make is a 'snort'? Yep. And so I dutifully did my best snort.
And then, for the first time ever, Jack looked at me, literally tossed his head back, and delivered an absolutely perfect 'snort-snort'.
He was really proud of himself; it was cute. I just really hope this doesn't mean that he is going to be one of those guys who tries to impress girls by burping.

(3) We were just snapping photos at the playgroud one day. I didn't notice anything unusual. Tonite I happened to be looking at the photos and, of course, this sequence caught my eye.

On behalf of Anna, I think I need to explain--Anna is a champion layerer. In this photo, she is wearing a sweater, a dress, a shirt under the dress, tights, pants and a skirt between the dress and the pants. I have no doubt that when she sat down to 'drive the wheel', all that bulk caught up with her and she just moved it to the rear. I have to say that I'm slightly embarrassed that I didn't notice and help her a bit.
But clearly Jack did.
Now I'm not exactly sure if this belongs under the 'Jack is smarter than me (er, I mean I)' heading, but I suppose it at least makes him more observant.
And hopefully not alarmingly fresh as far as the ladies are concerned.

The Racket

Jack and Thomas see something they like.
Something they think is cool.
Jack's the front man; he grabs it when you're not looking. In this categrory might be things like babysitter Meredith's leather belt, or Ella's dad's shoehorn, or the hairclip that Mommy is curently wearing in her hair. They're all his now.

And this is when he passes them over to Tommy, who does the dirty work behind, or in this case "underneath" the scenes--Tommy attempts to shove each of these objects underneath large household furniture or appliances.

Many often never to be heard from again.
Others to be sold on the urbanbaby black market...

And who'd want to mess with these two wiseguys to try to get their stuff back? Not me, I assure you.
(Teddy bear shirt nothwithstanding...)

The (Mon-Wed-Fri) Ladies Of The Brownstone School

I have been meaning to post this sooner, but here they are in all their Princess slipper greatness--Anna and her school buddies.

What's In You

Well, if Gatorade is asking, Anna knows for sure.

After a fantastic birthday party for her friend Katharine wheere they did all kinds of gymnastics and tumbling, Anna was pretty sure about where her skills lie. She told me:

"I have imagination [dramatic sweep of finger up towards her brain]
and balance [dramatic knee bend into crouch position]
inside my body."

Wow. I mean, she did tell me that she had made it across the balance beam with no helping hands, and that she and Sam were the first ones to climb up into something called a 'volcano'. Sounds impressive, eh?

She has since amended her statement; something called 'creations'(creativity?) is now on the list as well. Stay tuned.

What I Want To Be When I Grow Up

In the last month or so, for the first time ever, Anna has made some announcements:

• "When I grow up, I want to be a fish collector.
  I want to work at the fish store."
  (Hmmnn. All this as we comtemplate laying out, uh, 25K for a NYC Kindergarten education) Gee, I'm really glad that Petco opened that store up on 92nd & Broadway. At least we'll know she's nearby.
  

• "I want to be an astronaut so that I can see the earth when I am 36.
  And I'll go with my brothers when they are 21."

• Every night while we are putting on the brother's pajamas, we are required to close the door completely.
  So that Anna can knock on the outside of the door, and we can say 'Come in!'.
  So that Anna can announce that she is the baby nurse and that she is "an expert at taking care of babies". As in: "When they cry, I can give them things!"
  By far the best part of this routine is the alter-egos she selects in the form of her name. They all see to be some variation of 'Freya', who happens to be the very nice lady who plays the piano during Anna's ballet class. Who we have never spoken to except during the 'hello' song at the beginning of class.
  Nonetheless: in the past few weeks the name of the friendly brother baby nurse knocking at our door has been Freya, Fernanda, Frendita and Frendada to name a few. I keep asking about her sister Frittata--what's she been up to? I've heard she a good egg.
  heh heh.
  Anna doesn't get it.
  

So... fish 'collector' (impossible to tell at this point if PETA will be protesting in front of our home or not), astronaut, or baby nurse. Not a bad start at all.

The Ice(Cream)Man Cometh

And not a hint of despair here!
Anna has spotted the truck at least three times now in the last two weeks, despite the fact that last weekend also brought us several inches of snow.

Yes, indeed: spring is here.

We Are Now Accepting Requests

... for the 2007 Summer Vacation session.

Get on our calendar early, as it is likely we'll be booked up and you definitely do not want to miss out on this kind of fun, fashion, and athleticism all rolled into one preschool-sized package.

We bring all our own summer equipment (as you can see) and travel extremely well as long as goldfish and a portable DVD player are provided. Don't miss out!

Thomas is From Mars, Jack is From Venus

Let's all go outside for a walk!
Great! Here, Thomas, I'll get you all ready and then you stand next to me by the door and wait while I get Jack all suited up.

Thomas stood by the front door for upwards of one minute while I was getting Jack's hat, coat, and shoes on. Thomas cried, moaned and wailed that the door wasn't open.

Finally, I finished getting Jack ready.
Jack walked right over to the door, opened it, and immediately ran down the hall.

ps Thomas *knows* how to open the door, by the way. He just didn't.
I suppose that makes him at the same time (1) a better listener and (2) a bigger whiner than Jack. I can't tell if I think that this is a good thing.

Saturday In The Park

Uh, that would be last Saturday, by the way. Today was decidedly slushier.

The Birth Of The Modern, Part II

By way of context, here's my little chain of after-dinner disciplinary outcomes:
- If you hit Jack on the head, you go to timeout.
- If you refuse to go to timeout, you go to your room and to bed. Right away.

Sure enough, Jack got bopped on the head, Anna refused to go to timeout, I carried Anna up to her room screaming, she freaked out with Daddy and I for some time but eventually was in bed well before 7PM.

The next morning I tried to go over everything with her. I wanted to make sure that she understood how everything had happened. And OK I'll admit--basically, I never wanted to go through all that again.

Me: Anna, if you hit Jack, you will have to go to timeout.
Anna: OK, Mommy.
Me: If you won't go to timeout, you will have to go to your room and go right to bed.
Anna: OK, Mommy.
[pause]
Anna: [big smile] And if I don't go to my room, then I can come down and play!"

Hmmnnn. Think we're making progress here?

Anna Quotes

I have to say, the hits are coming fast and furious at this point. Here's a sample:

• A very good friend of Anna's gave her the book Not Norman: A Goldfish Story as a particularly personal and thoughtful item in his birthday party's goody bag.
  Norman is a fish. Norman's owner got the fish for his birthday, but what he really wanted was a real pet (like a dog), or even a cat, or a ferret or anything--just not Norman. He decides that he wants to trade Norman in for some other pet. But not before learning a valuable life lesson and deciding to keep Norman for his uniquely lovable qualities.
  All in all, a great book. Anna really seemed to like it.
  Maybe this is why:
  "Mommy, can we take Thomas in to the pet store and trade him in for a real pet?"
  
  
• Anna and Jenny were headed to Cole's house last week. Anna was whining. Big time. So I used the old standby 'Now what is Cole going to say when you show up at his house whining like this...', etc, etc. She looked at me like I was a complete simpleton and let me in on the master plan:
  "Mommy, I'm going to stop whining when I get to Cole's!"
  Ah.
  
  
• Today was a big day. A birthday party for one of Anna's good friends from school. I can't remember the exact context of this quote, but at one point this morning Anna looked up from wrapping the present and announced:
  "I use lip balm. I wear it so that I will have moist lips..."
  
  
• Anna likes to set the table. She is very focused on it. So I've tried to give her some insight into the whole serving spoons/soup spoons and dinner forks/dessert forks concepts. I think she gets it.
  She now refers to the serving spoons as 'uppercase spoons' and the soup ones as 'lowercase spoons'. Ditto for forks.
  
  
• Do you remember that period of life when your little sister would make up jokes and then tell you them? Over and over? I do. And Anna is officially in the "joke-making" stage. Here's her latest gem:
  "Thomas is a giraffe."
  [cue fantastic smile] "I made a joke."
  "Heh heh."
  
  
• Some words that Anna tosses around: amazing, frustrated, interesting, "in general" and scrambled.
  
  

Let's Call A Spade A Spade

Anna: "Daddy, what do you do at work?"
Steve: "Well, I... talk to people. I get ideas."

Anna: "Well... are you going to make some money?"

Our Lips Are Sealed

Really, A. We won't tell anyone about your very 'Go-Go's-esque' big hair days. Really.

For the record, there was no hair spray involved here. This hair just happened. And when I asked her about the hose, she told me that was her microphone. The Sesame Street Platinum: All Time Favorites Album was playing. It all makes sense.

The Day. The Fiiiiiiiish-y Died.

That's right. Nemo is dead. It was a good, happy seven months.
A moment of silence, please.

And let's not get into any blame games here: it is nothing more than an extremely sad and unfortunate coincidence that this happened so soon after her brother's venture into his tank.

So I had a long talk with Anna about all this. I think she got it.
I told her we loved Nemo and took care of him, but sometimes fish get sick and then they die.
I told her when things die, they can't come back anymore.
I told her we should send Nemo back to the ocean, where he belongs.

I told her we should flush him down the toilet.

She leveled her gaze at me for several seconds. I waited. I had nothing else. I kept thinking: what would Calvin's Daddy (see below) say at a time like this?

Fortunately, her mental process was evidently more focused on the likelihood that, at long last, she would finally be able to really use the little net that came with her magnetic fishing game, as opposed to any lengthy existential discovery process.

She asked me if we could use her net to get him out, I said yes, and she was thrilled.
We dumped him in the toilet, said a few kind words, and then she flushed him.

When Steve came home that night and asked her about him, her summary went like this:
He died. We put him in the toilet. Can we get another one?

Phew! Kudos to Mommy for evidently avoiding any long-term emotional scars...

--

Calvin and Hobbes: best comic ever. Calvin's Daddy comes up with imaginative explanations for natural phenomena that Ptolemy would be proud of. Calvin (at 5 or 6 years) and his Dad also have some fantastic 'intellectual' exchanges. Here's one given on Wiki:

Calvin: "Dad, are you vicariously living through me in the hope that my accomplishments will validate your mediocre life and in some way compensate for all of the opportunities you botched?"

Calvin's father: "If I were, you can bet I'd be re-evaluating my strategy."

Calvin (later, to his mother): "Mom, Dad keeps insulting me."

The Finer Points Of Peek-A-Boo

Here we go:

1. Don't allow the person you're trying to surprise to see and hear you as you start to run all the way across the open expanse of living room (granted this is a New York City apartment but still--you're surrendering the element of visual surprise here) while shouting at the top of your lungs.
2. Uh... try to find something, anything to hide behind (even if just for a second) before you get right in your target's face and finally yell 'BOO!'.
   

I am sure, at some point soon, Thomas will realize the ineffectiveness of his current strategy.
But don't worry--as our longtime readers may recall, we have worked through these kinds of issues before.

Have I Mentioned That She Can Pump?

Hello, spring!
Anna can swing.

By herself.
As of today.

Double Jepoardy

Let me tell a little crime story here.
Thomas and Jack climb everywhere. But more than anywhere else, where they want to climb is onto the window ledge. There are lots of interesting things up there--the newspaper bin, the HVAC unit controls, and, of course, Anna's fish tank.

This is how I caught them this morning (see photo left). Jack I could have easily charged with ' unauthorized button pressing with intent to randomize climate control', while Tommy was definitely in 'reckless endangerment (acquatic-style)' territory. Clearly, these guys were guilty. I mean, just look at their faces when they found out they'd been caught (see photo right). You can just feel the remorse.

At any rate, I wasn't into anything cruel and unusual this early in the morning (note the lack of any daylight whatsoever in the background) so I decided to let them off easy. I knocked their charges down to ' Didn't listen to Mommy. Not at all.' plus some time served in time-out. And I think their little stint there went a long way towards teaching them a lesson.

I mean: look at Tommy (see photo below). It was daytime before I let the kid out of there. We had put him in the blue prison sweats and everything, just for effect.

But, honestly, you never really can tell with kids. And so, later in the morning, when I discovered them both squatting next to fish tank and watched as Tommy pulled the cover off and Jack leaned in for the catch, I have to say I was a bit surprised. I didn't even think to grab my camera...

If This Isn't Fabulous

... then I just don't know what is.
Have I mentioned that Jack loves accessories?

He also loves to brush the hair of anyone who will submit to his slightly aggressive grooming techniques (think Norman Bates meets Frédéric Fekkai. Eee! Eee! Eee!). We definitely keep any hard bristles and all combs away from Jack.

I have always thought that the hair brushing was really cute.
Until about a week ago, when he was brushing my hair.
After his bath.
Before I had had a chance to get his diaper on.
And let me tell you: as soon as I felt the creeping dampness on back of my shirt, I swore to myself (no matter how talented they say he is!) I am *never* coming back to this salon.

Finally!

Woo hoo! Houston, we have basketball interest amongst the offspring. Sighted and now documented in the first born son.
Thomas has been throwing all kinds of things for a while now, but only recently has anything gone in the general direction of the hoop.

And never, ever had he attempted a bit of dribbling.
Until tonite, that is.

Pink Is The New... Blue

Thanks, Gwammy. Thank you for opening up an entirely new slice of the color wheel to Anna.

Ever since you came two weeks ago and convinced Anna to wear those pink sleepers you got her for Christmas, Anna has been wearing pink. It has happened slowly, and she is by no means eschewing her beloved blue, but the past two days she has come downstairs dressed in head-to-toe pink.

Culminating in this statement to Jenny this morning:
"I like pink.
And I'm going to wear blue in the summer."

And then, like the gracious and fashion-aware New Yorker that she is, she inquired after Jenny's color choice for this summer. She was shocked to learn that Jenny had yet to select her summer hue.

If Grace Kelly Had Bear Paws

OK this is not a good photo. It is really blurry. And it doesn't come anywhere close to doing justice to the huge, blue, "bear paws" mittens that Jill gave Anna for Christmas. That I nearly have to physically pry off of Anna's body at bedtime.

(The good news: spring is coming soon.
The bad news: I am quite sure they'll fit her next year.)

But as a mom (much less the bad photographer) I am able to ignore photo quality and just love her in her hood, scarf, and Dora sunglasses. I find the whole thing vaguely To Catch a Thief, minus the French Riviera, the convertible, and of course, Cary Grant. Details.




At any rate--some fun lines delivered by the princess herself while walking with Mommy in the bitter cold:

• Anna asked me about all the little white rocks on the ground.
  I told her they were salt, and tried to explain how that helps melt the ice. Without actually being 100% sure myself.
  So I complete my big explanation and she looks up at me and says "OK... well... then what does pepper do?"
  
• A sign of too much Blue's Clues?
  "Mommy, look--I'm going to skadoo into that puddle!"
• Right now Anna is very interested in knwing what direction we're going when we walk places. She's seen the compass rose on her map puzzles and she knows that the 'S' is South, and it is always at the bottom.
  So we're walking down a gentle slope on Riverside Drive heading towards some playground and Anna proudly announces: "Mommy, we're walking south! South is down."
  

The Fork & The "It" Bag

Unrelated? I think not.

To Jack especially, I get the sense that utensils, particularly forks, seem a bit like a fashion accessory you just have to have. They are shiny and interesting and sometimes even have a cool (Thomas the Tank Engine or Dora) logo on them, but when it comes right down to it--and our metric is calories ingested per effort expended to get them in--Jack definitely feels that forks are not all that effective. Especially when compared to his hand.
I mean, Jack enjoys holding his fork. All meal long. Often the fork will still be clean by the end of it.

Sigh.
Sometimes I feel table manners are a bit hopeless. Some recent brother behavior:

• I'm sitting next to Jack. Jack spikes me in the arm with his fork.
  Before I can even take a breath to let loose with the discipline thing, his face completely changes (cue angelic smile), and he kisses my elbow. Then he just grins.
  
• Jack likes to eat bananas the 'real' way. I start him off and peel it half way.
  The other day he was eating one. He got this mischevious look on his face, picked up the floppy end of a peel--of course dislodging the banana's bottom half in the process--and started to make his vacuum sound as he wiped the "nozzle" of the peel all over his plate.
• Continuing on the "pretending food is a household object" track: one morning Jack, after peering into his bowl for some time, selected a single, quite (unusually!) large Raisin Bran flake, smiled, held it up to his ear and said 'Hello!'.
  
• Jack loves oatmeal. A lot. Can't get enough fast enough to satisfy him.
  In fact, he eats it with his hands! Both. It is not a pretty sight.
• Once at the table, Jack will take anything he can reach.
  Anna's napkin, Anna's fishstick, Thomas' cup--if it isn't actively being guarded, Jack will take it.
• Jack has this idea that the best position to be in while you are dining (in terms of digestion, of course) is to be seated with one foot up on the table. Just one. He tries to convince us of this every few days. So far we're not buying it.

Finally: some Thomas table stuff. Actually, compared to Jack, Thomas could consult on the Dining chapter of the next Peggy Post manners book. He's a superstar.

• When Thomas wants more, he uses his baby sign for more. Agressively. Over his head. Like he is clapping at a Bon Jovi concert. But at least it is clear, and his plate never leaves the table in an uncontrolled manner.
  
• When Thomas is enjoying what he is eating, he does this little Stevie Wonder head bopping dance at the table. It's really cute.
  

--

ps Alternative title to this post that I just can't let go of:
When Aesop Met Simon Doonan

Now, that is one fable I would love to read in the Observer.

Anonymous Bathroom Quotes

Let's just say it hasn't exactly been a sterling week for good bathroom habits. I am trying to look on the bright side and share some of the more humorous quotes:

• Mommy said I could wipe in what-ever direction I want!!
• But my body was telling me "I'm on the potty already!"...

But at least... ugh, ugh, ugh--I can't resist.
One of Anna's very good friends is a boy. So remember that really funny bathroom scene in Meet the Parents involving Ben Stiller and a zipper?

Riiiiiight. You got it.
Let's just say I am thankful that is one thing that didn't happen to us this week.

That is something I have to look forward to. Twice.

Mommy Made Prison Food

What can I say? It was in the Martha Stewart cookbook, it sounded kind of different, the brothers hadn't been eating that well, so I figured--
what the heck--
corn dogs and baked beans!

So I got it all done and I set it in front of Jack, and only then did I pause and think--
oh my--
corn dogs and baked beans.

Yep, I think I can pretty much kiss that third Michelin star goodbye, at least for this year.

Do Ya Doodle?

Aquadoodle, that is.
Thomas really likes it. He seems to be very interested in drawing. He's also very interested in sticking the pen up his nose.

But it's obvious that he is a really creative soul.

I remember this one time Thomas stopped drawing, got this funny look on his face, took a deep breath and then proceeded to sneeze all over the Aquadoodle mat.

The splatter pattern it created was quite impressive (if more than a little unsanitary). But hey, sterilizing the canvas every once in a while seems a small price to pay in the face of such talent. I mean, do you think Jackson Pollock was doing stuff like this at Thomas' age?

I think not.

We're Getting Very Zen

(1) Anna

Anna has a new favorite phrase. She uses it like this:

• (whine) aaaahhhh I don't want to wait [insert phrase here] for dinner!
• We're going to Cole's house for a long playdate and we're not coming home [insert phrase here]! Yaaaaaay!
  
• Jill, I don't want you to stay [insert phrase here]! I want you to stay longer!

Ready for it? Here you go:
"until the sun sets"

Go ahead, try it out. Pretty funny, eh? Best thing since Mad Libs :)
Anna knows that the sun sets around dinner time. Can't wait to try to explain Daylight Savings.

(2) Jack

If Jack had been a Native American, he absolutely would have been a medicine man.
If Jack had lived in the 19th century, he would have been one of those traveling salesman who went from small midwest town to small midwest town pulling a cart and declaring he had the cures to all your constitutional ailments.
Jack could have been one of those desert tribesmen in the English Patient who rescue Ralph Fiennes after his plane crashes, strap him on the back of their camel and treat all his burns with yogurt and cheesecloth. So that that fabulous movie starring Kristen Scott Thomas can go on. Did I mention she's my absolute favorite actress? Anyway, I digress.

Jack is all about creams, ointments, oils and lotions in attractive packaging. He will fight you for your Aquaphor. He wants to eat your baby lotion. Jack does not believe that the use of Desitin should be restricted to one's butt.
He loves it all, he believes in it all, and he wants to put it everywhere.
(By the way, we've already added "mortar and pestle" to next year's Christmas list, if you're keeping track at home...)

---

And then there's Tommy. Let's just say Tommy doesn't seem to be quite so into the whole "natural" thing. Not such a big distinction for him. The other day, he saw a little's girl's duckie backpack, walked right up to it (the backpack), took a swipe at the beak and let out a massive growl.
You can imagine the backpack's owner's reaction to all this. Fortunately, at the time it was strapped to the back of her stroller or things could have gotten awkward.

From the MSG and Yellow #6 Department

--as in, things that do not occur in nature.
Or at least that are really, really, really rare.

Thomas made a blue poo.
That's right: blue. And we are not talking some sissy periwinkle or powder blue here--this was a completely different Benjamin Moore swatch card. Now don't get me wrong, it wasn't navy or even cobalt either, but definitely it was a blue with some gusto.

This didn't exactly come from nowhere. Over the previous couple of days Thomas had, in fact, just discovered blueberries. And I suppose eaten a few too many. But still: it was quite a shock.

Let's Make An Airplane

It was a neat idea. Anna put three plastic chairs in a row and declared that she was on JetBlue. Then she got all her babies strapped in (from back to front: Cookie Monster, Sad Winnie, Happy Winnie and Blue with Anna, Raphie & Elmo). Suffice it to say, the poor people sitting next to Anna and her brood were not exactly thrilled.

And let's not even start on how difficult it was to get them all loaded into two strollers and through security.

Who knew a blue coat hanger hanging off your stroller would seem so suspicious? And yes: Happy and Sad Winnie always travel wearing a tie and purple socks.