Dylan,
It seems like only hours ago that I last heard you whine "I want my Mommy", although it's probably been more like days.
Tonight you seem to have suddenly crossed some kind of threshold: You've replace your use of "Mommy" with a very grown-up sounding "Mom".
When you yelled to her that you wanted more strawberries, you addressed your supplication to "Mom". I noticed something -- maturity perhaps -- in the sound of your voice then, but didn't realize what it was until an hour or so later.
When you hollered from the bathtub that you wanted her to remain at home rather than go for a run to the gym, it was "Mom" you implored to stay, not "Mommy".
Don't know what triggered it. Don't know if it'll change back tomorrow. I'll try to keep you posted.
Dad
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
advice
Dylan,
Always be mindful to not equate 'vulnerability' with 'weakness'.
Likewise, do not mistake 'simple' for 'easy', nor 'symmetry' for 'balance'.
Dad
Always be mindful to not equate 'vulnerability' with 'weakness'.
Likewise, do not mistake 'simple' for 'easy', nor 'symmetry' for 'balance'.
Dad
underwear
Dylan,
You really didn't want to put on your Pull-Up this morning, so we struck a deal: You could put on some underwear (which you've gotten quite good at doing yourself), but only so long as you could keep them dry. Mom and I didn't expect that to be very long, but you managed to do it long enough that we all agreed you could wear them to school, too.
I packed an extra pair of pants.
You hadn't eaten much for breakfast, so Mom cut up a couple strawberries and put them in a container to eat from on the way to school. I laid down a plastic bag in your car seat, figuring you'd be wet before we reached our destination.
We got to school still dry and still packing plenty of strawberries so sat down together at one of the activity centers for the morning where you ate while I wrote "DYLAN MILES" in various color inks on a canvass of brown cardboard.
In little boy fashion, by the time you finished your hands and face were covered in strawberry juices. I urged you over to the sink to wash your hands and you, while now drying them, said a couple of times "I already did it". "You already washed your face?" I asked, since that's what I was just starting on. Then you looked down.
You were wet all the way into your socks. Even though we'd made a successful potty-stop just prior to leaving the house, the suggestive power of the forcefully running sink water was too much to overcome. I changed you into the extra pants and you donned your Pull-Up without objection.
Anyway, I think it might make good practice to put you in underwear every morning before school, at least for a while. We've been really inconsistent about that and I imagine that will continue to undercut progress.
You really didn't want to put on your Pull-Up this morning, so we struck a deal: You could put on some underwear (which you've gotten quite good at doing yourself), but only so long as you could keep them dry. Mom and I didn't expect that to be very long, but you managed to do it long enough that we all agreed you could wear them to school, too.
I packed an extra pair of pants.
You hadn't eaten much for breakfast, so Mom cut up a couple strawberries and put them in a container to eat from on the way to school. I laid down a plastic bag in your car seat, figuring you'd be wet before we reached our destination.
We got to school still dry and still packing plenty of strawberries so sat down together at one of the activity centers for the morning where you ate while I wrote "DYLAN MILES" in various color inks on a canvass of brown cardboard.
In little boy fashion, by the time you finished your hands and face were covered in strawberry juices. I urged you over to the sink to wash your hands and you, while now drying them, said a couple of times "I already did it". "You already washed your face?" I asked, since that's what I was just starting on. Then you looked down.
You were wet all the way into your socks. Even though we'd made a successful potty-stop just prior to leaving the house, the suggestive power of the forcefully running sink water was too much to overcome. I changed you into the extra pants and you donned your Pull-Up without objection.
Anyway, I think it might make good practice to put you in underwear every morning before school, at least for a while. We've been really inconsistent about that and I imagine that will continue to undercut progress.
wahduh
Dylan,
Maybe you're just boning up on your linguistics, but lately you've made a habit of parroting the speech impediments of your friends and classmates. A common manifestation is when you stop pronouncing your R's correctly. You'll ask for a glass of "wahduh" or tell me you can see a "hullicoptuh". I try to catch it every time and act like I can't understand you until you say "water" or "helicopter" the way I know you're capable of.
Dad
Maybe you're just boning up on your linguistics, but lately you've made a habit of parroting the speech impediments of your friends and classmates. A common manifestation is when you stop pronouncing your R's correctly. You'll ask for a glass of "wahduh" or tell me you can see a "hullicoptuh". I try to catch it every time and act like I can't understand you until you say "water" or "helicopter" the way I know you're capable of.
Dad
Monday, June 23, 2008
Miss America
Dylan,
You came home from school today singing a new song, consisting entirely of what I thought (and you confirmed) was "Miss America, Miss America, Miss America". You even told me who taught you the song at school, although I didn't quite understand or recognize the name.
You were still at it when Mommy got home and, hearing it differently, pressed for clarification. When asked whether you were singing "Miss America" or "Bless America" you clearly responded with the latter.
I told Mom that you also managed a fragment of the Pledge of Allegiance, which was new. You then knocked our socks off by reciting the whole pledge, top to bottom, with surprising ease.
Dad
You came home from school today singing a new song, consisting entirely of what I thought (and you confirmed) was "Miss America, Miss America, Miss America". You even told me who taught you the song at school, although I didn't quite understand or recognize the name.
You were still at it when Mommy got home and, hearing it differently, pressed for clarification. When asked whether you were singing "Miss America" or "Bless America" you clearly responded with the latter.
I told Mom that you also managed a fragment of the Pledge of Allegiance, which was new. You then knocked our socks off by reciting the whole pledge, top to bottom, with surprising ease.
Dad
big fish
D
We hung out at Charlie's house yesterday, playing with his toys. With his 11-month old sister around it was evident that you don't have enough experience with wee ones to know what the rules of engagement are. At various times you shoved her, took away her toys, tried to physically move her out of your way, and swatted and yelled at her.
Part of becoming a "big boy" is realizing that you're no longer the smallest fish in the pond and that with power comes responsibility.
Dad
We hung out at Charlie's house yesterday, playing with his toys. With his 11-month old sister around it was evident that you don't have enough experience with wee ones to know what the rules of engagement are. At various times you shoved her, took away her toys, tried to physically move her out of your way, and swatted and yelled at her.
Part of becoming a "big boy" is realizing that you're no longer the smallest fish in the pond and that with power comes responsibility.
Dad
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Time together
Dylan,
You and I took a weekday off recently to get a trip to the aquarium in before school let out for the summer and brought with it the throngs of kids I find it easy to lose you in. It's been a whole year since we visited last, so you have no real memory of being there before. Your favorite place however, hasn't changed. I'm pretty sure you could spend the entire time within the water play area, but alas, Mommy gets a little bored eventually. It was a great day, and it was so fun to see you so much more interactive at all the exhibits compared to last year. You now have the attention span to stay and interact with those things you can see and touch, but not yet those that require text for learning.
Then, just a few days later, we went strawberry picking, and this time Dad joined us. You are an avid strawberry eater, and have waited patiently for it to be strawberry season, so you could eat your fill. In staying with the "eat fresh and local" philosophy I try to uphold, I had to explain to you many times in March and April why we couldn't buy the strawberries you saw in the store. Finally they arrived at our local farmers market and in our weekly veggie box, and I think it was worth the wait.
You have been known to down an entire basket at one sitting, though I try to limit you to half a basket on most occasions. For the self-pick outing we joined some friends for a strawberry picking fest and post harvest picnic. You and Dad worked together to find and pick only the ripest ones, and you patiently abstained from eating them on the spot as I insisted on washing them first. We even let you carry your own basket, though those eventually met with the dirt as you tripped at some point. No worries, those were washed and eaten by days end. We ended up with more than we needed, but a dinner trip to Yaya and Papa's, and a few bags in the freezer, and before we knew it, they were gone!
It is in retrospect I am reminded you continue to grow from almost every experience you are a part of, especially the unique ones. Everything you do is an opportunity to learn. I tell my new mommies at work that when their newborns are awake and alert they soak up everything they see, even if they aren't yet able to show it, they learn from every experience. You are still, at two-and-a-half, a sponge. That's amazing, yet scary.
Love,
Mom
Friday, June 13, 2008
kid dynamics
Dylan,
Today I paid you a visit during the school day for a special Father's Day event. We played soccer and watched people toss horseshoes. We also took a turn at the table where kids got to lather their Dad's faces with shaving cream and scrape it off with tongue depressors. The latter was something I had hoped to maybe avoid, but now am glad I got roped into. You were very much engaged, and I had a great vantage point from which to see the concentration on your face as you went about your work literally right in front of my nose.
When i first showed up I sat and watched you kicking balls into a small net with a few other kids. You didn't see me for a minute or two. I observed some behavior from you that I recognized, and had you been talking to me or acting that way towards me, I would have quickly discouraged it, but I saw that it was the appropriate thing for you to do wrt another, slightly older and not ideally-behaving kid. I was glad to see you say no to him, and to do so insistently, when he basically wanted the whole play area to himself.
It reminds me that I need to raise you to interact with the entire world around you, and not just teach you how to interact with me however I like best.
Dad
Today I paid you a visit during the school day for a special Father's Day event. We played soccer and watched people toss horseshoes. We also took a turn at the table where kids got to lather their Dad's faces with shaving cream and scrape it off with tongue depressors. The latter was something I had hoped to maybe avoid, but now am glad I got roped into. You were very much engaged, and I had a great vantage point from which to see the concentration on your face as you went about your work literally right in front of my nose.
When i first showed up I sat and watched you kicking balls into a small net with a few other kids. You didn't see me for a minute or two. I observed some behavior from you that I recognized, and had you been talking to me or acting that way towards me, I would have quickly discouraged it, but I saw that it was the appropriate thing for you to do wrt another, slightly older and not ideally-behaving kid. I was glad to see you say no to him, and to do so insistently, when he basically wanted the whole play area to himself.
It reminds me that I need to raise you to interact with the entire world around you, and not just teach you how to interact with me however I like best.
Dad
Thursday, June 12, 2008
boys night
Dylan,
Mom was out of town briefly (just about 48 hours) so last night we were left to our own defenses. We made the best of it.
On the way home from school we stopped at the "baba ganoush store", also known as the Falafel Drive-In, for dinner. We shared some baba ganoush, some hummus and lots of pita bread, but you greedily ate all of the cucumbers. After a while I let you try my banana shake. The look in your eyes when you tasted what you had been lead to believe was water was one of transfixed joy. You were very much 'in the moment'. As soon as you paused for a breath I took the shake back and told you it was my turn but that I'd give it back when I was done. "I can have some more some of that?" you said, with hopeful satisfaction in your voice.
After dinner you told me that you didn't want to go home, that you wanted to "go for a drive". We headed to the Lego store at the mall and had a good time playing with the samples and checking out the displays before taking a couple of escalator rides on our circuitous exit route.
Again, you made it clear that you didn't want to go home. Fortunately (for me) you have influence but not control. We headed straight home for a cup of milk and as close to your regular routine as we could get without Mom being there.
Dad
Mom was out of town briefly (just about 48 hours) so last night we were left to our own defenses. We made the best of it.
On the way home from school we stopped at the "baba ganoush store", also known as the Falafel Drive-In, for dinner. We shared some baba ganoush, some hummus and lots of pita bread, but you greedily ate all of the cucumbers. After a while I let you try my banana shake. The look in your eyes when you tasted what you had been lead to believe was water was one of transfixed joy. You were very much 'in the moment'. As soon as you paused for a breath I took the shake back and told you it was my turn but that I'd give it back when I was done. "I can have some more some of that?" you said, with hopeful satisfaction in your voice.
After dinner you told me that you didn't want to go home, that you wanted to "go for a drive". We headed to the Lego store at the mall and had a good time playing with the samples and checking out the displays before taking a couple of escalator rides on our circuitous exit route.
Again, you made it clear that you didn't want to go home. Fortunately (for me) you have influence but not control. We headed straight home for a cup of milk and as close to your regular routine as we could get without Mom being there.
Dad
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
anxiety
Dylan,
You had a really hard time letting me leave this morning after I took you to school. I stayed for a couple minutes (as I often do) and drew pictures with you on the little personal chalkboards with their impossibly tiny erasers, but when I told you it was time for me to go to work you just didn't want to accept it.
It wasn't that you had a problem with being left there, just that you wanted me to stay and play too. "Color!", "Color!" you urged as I walked toward the door, before running over and trying to haul me back to an activity table.
Eventually, over the course of several minutes, one of your teachers got you somewhat engaged in cutting strips of colored masking tape and creating designs on paper with the pieces. You insisted that I watch, which I did for a while, gradually moving farther away when you wouldn't notice. Then you'd see that I had moved, and implore me again to "watch" before turning back to your activity. Finally, I sneaked out.
It's very, very unusual for you to exhibit this kind of separation anxiety, although you also had an exceptionally hard time last Saturday when I left you at the gym daycare while Mom was exercising. Maybe it's a phase. Or maybe (in today's case) it has something to do with last night's unpleasant dream which led you to yell "NO! something something dinosaur!"
You had a really hard time letting me leave this morning after I took you to school. I stayed for a couple minutes (as I often do) and drew pictures with you on the little personal chalkboards with their impossibly tiny erasers, but when I told you it was time for me to go to work you just didn't want to accept it.
It wasn't that you had a problem with being left there, just that you wanted me to stay and play too. "Color!", "Color!" you urged as I walked toward the door, before running over and trying to haul me back to an activity table.
Eventually, over the course of several minutes, one of your teachers got you somewhat engaged in cutting strips of colored masking tape and creating designs on paper with the pieces. You insisted that I watch, which I did for a while, gradually moving farther away when you wouldn't notice. Then you'd see that I had moved, and implore me again to "watch" before turning back to your activity. Finally, I sneaked out.
It's very, very unusual for you to exhibit this kind of separation anxiety, although you also had an exceptionally hard time last Saturday when I left you at the gym daycare while Mom was exercising. Maybe it's a phase. Or maybe (in today's case) it has something to do with last night's unpleasant dream which led you to yell "NO! something something dinosaur!"
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