Christmas

Jack woke up at 5:40. Too early. Despite his protests, I put him back to bed.

We woke up around 7, and he was still asleep. Made coffee, checked the email, finally said, well, guess I'll start making noise. Eventually he woke up. Probably the last Christmas morning he'll sleep past 7, so I should have enjoyed it while I could.

I gave Mommy the heads up to get the video camera rolling and we headed downstairs. Went into the living room, where presents in special Santa Claus wrapping paper were displayed. Also his stocking, overflowing with a Santa toy and a Rudolph toy sticking out the top. "Santa came!" we said excitedly. Jack: "Yeah!" But it wasn't quite an exclamation point. It was more of a, well, yeah, OF COURSE Santa came, Daddy.

I'd have to check the video tape, but I'm assuming he went for the stocking first. Maybe he went for one of the wrapped Santa gifts. Tough to say. He pulled out the stuffed toys, and there was much happiness. He pulled out the Harold the Helicopter toy from "Thomas the Tank Engine." It was in a little cardboard box with with Harold's picture on it. "What's that, Jack?" We asked. "What did you get?" He looked at it, then literally tossed it over his shoulder with disdain. "This is just a box," he said. And we said, "No! Look inside it!" He goes over to it and gives it another look. "Oh, it's Harold!" He's about to move on to another present when we say, no, it's not just a picture! He finally opens it, with help. "OH, it's Harold the Helicopter!"

He opened a book. Might have been "Chicka Chicka 1 2 3." Takes a look at it. Then: "Read it, Mommy." The next 5 minutes are spent with Emily reading the book to him. Opens another book. "Read it to me, Mommy." Emily reads the book to him.

As Emily noted, the cool thing about this Christmas was it was the first one where he was actually fully into opening his own presents, enjoying each thing, moving on to another one ("I want to open another present now"), and enjoying it.

We opened his Lincoln Logs from Nana and Baba. Spent a while building a house. "This is Santa's house," he said when it was done, putting the little Santa figure I'd put in his stocking by it. Then he put the toy digger truck we'd given him by it. "Santa's digger," he explained.

It's a few days later now, and stuff fades. I know it was all pretty great.

A favorite memory of mine involves the entire history of this big blue dinosaur, by Imaginext. He mentioned wanting it about a week before Christmas ("I want my big blue dinosaur"), and we had no idea what he was talking about. Turns out he'd seen it while out with Grandpa, so we called him up, and he said, yes, I know what it is. So, he shows up one day before Christmas with the dinosaur. I sort of assumed something the size of, I dunno, a loaf of bread at most. The thing was half the size of Jack. And when you pushed a button on its tail, its eyes lit up, head turned around, it make a roaring noise, its whole neck twisted. It wasn't even in an actual box, just kind of half on a cardboard platform.

So I wrapped this enormous thing in a huge box, and toward the end on Christmas, I gave it to Jack. He got the paper off, but was left with the box. I told him to have Grandpa help him. They got the box open, and Jack's eyes get wide, "Ohhhhhhhhh" (he kind of draws in his breath in a big way, I don't know if "Oh" is really appropriate, but it's the best approximation) "My blue dinosaur!"

After that I got distracted, but I looked over 5 or 10 minutes later and Grandpa was still trying to get the dinosaur off his cardboard platform. They make these toys basically impossible to get free of the packaging, I guess so parents get to incur hand injuries while opening them, or maybe damage the toys so they'll have to buy more. Anyway, they finally got it out, and I saw Jack and Lyndsay playing with it. They were kneeling there, and the dinosaur was standing between it. Jack pressed its tail, and its eyes lit up, its head reared around, and it sort of glared at Jack. He was smiling and laughing, but also backing away so quickly it looked like he was slipping on ice. Grandpa was laughing. The dinosaur? Still roaring.

It was great.

Christmas Eve

Jack's almost 3 now, so Christmas was much different than a year ago. First, he was really into it, all about Santa and Frosty and Rudolph and so forth. He's a little unclear on the details -- to him, they're all good friends and stuff, and he knows the Abominable Snow Monster is tied up in there somehow, though he's not too sure about him. But he's seen the specials, read the books, and talked a lot about them. (Plus they're all on his Christmas list -- "I want a Santa toy and a Rudolph toy and...." I hate to say it but I think he even HAD an Abominable Snow Monster toy, or would have, had I not given it away to Goodwill recently, figuring at the time he either wouldn't be into it or would be afraid of it.)

So he's into Christmas now, and the other way things were different is that he can do so much more. We thought taking him to church, which I knew would make both his Mommy and his Mommy's Mommy happy, was reasonable, because we could tell him to keep his voice quiet and he'd understand, as opposed to last year. And he could open his own presents, and write a letter to Santa, and all that stuff. And so we did.

The letter was funny. "I love you Santa. I have a baby sister. I want a Santa toy. And a reindeer and Frosty toy. And (at this point we prodded him by mentioning things we knew he'd like, and he, reminded of them, agreed) ....... And a candy cane. So I can eat." (Jack, incidentally, did not like the one candy cane he had. Too tart, I think.)

On Christmas Eve, we went to church. Initially, Jack wanted no part of it. But I told him his cousins would be there, and that we'd see Christmas lights afterward, so he came around. We all got dressed up, me in a shirt with a collar and Jack in his red Christmas sweater, and Kate in a dress with leggings that looked like a Santa suit -- just beautiful. We headed off to church with Kate, as she often does in the car, wailing somewhat. Jack soothed her by saying "SHHHHH!!!!! Stop, Kate!" and singing "Baby Kate, Baby Kate..."

We sat in the back and hoped he wouldn't be too loud or disruptive. And miraculously, he wasn't. (If he had been, he'd have been drowned out by the kids behind us anyway.) Kate was slightly more disruptive, but easily soothed by her Mommy as only a Mommy can, and Jack primarily spent the time saying things like "Why aren't they singing now?" and "They're not singing anymore," and so forth. He liked the singing. And the pictures in the books Emily brought from the back, featuring Noah loading a bunch of animals onto his ark. ("Why is he doing that?""So they won't get wet.") He had a chance to go up for the Children's Communion, or whatever it was called, but was afraid. Instead we all went up for Communion, Jack in my arms and Kate in Emily's, all of us looking beautiful of course and Kate drunkenly sleeping on Emily's shoulder. Jack hugged my shoulder as he was blessed, and we edged past the people offering wine. At the end, they sang Hark the Herald Angels Sing, which we called Jack's attention to; he recognized it as the Charlie Brown song.

We drove home -- very low on gas, I admit I spent some time thinking about running out of gas at 9 p.m. on Christmas Eve -- by way of various neighborhood side streets, admiring the lights and decorations. This was cut short for three reasons. One was that we were low on gas. Two was that it was already an hour or two past Jack's bedtime. And three was that Kate woke up and wailed louder and more violently than we'd ever heard her before; so much that she became hoarse and it was just a scratchy, rattling gurgle of woe in her throat. I'm saying, "Look, Jack, it's Rudolph!" over the din while Emily is saying, "Er, can we drive a little faster?"

We got home, and left a note for Santa Claus. As with the list, Jack didn't quite get it. OK, Jack, 'Dear Santa:' Now what do you want to say? Jack: "Cookies for you Santa. I love you Santa." And what else? Jack: "I love you again." And? "Hi Rudolph! And Frosty too. And Bondable Snow Monster." Then we drew pictures on the note, Jack drawing a series of broad scribbles ("That's a picture of Santa's cookie") and me drawing, at Jack's request, Santa, Rudolph, and the Abominable Snow Monster. And then we each had a cookie, went up and read some stories, and I put Jack to sleep.

He was upset that he wasn't going to get to see Santa. I explained how Santa came when boys and girls go to sleep. This didn't really soothe him. There was some crying. I explained how when he woke up, Santa would have left presents for him, and eaten the cookies we left, and replied to his note. (And so he did.)

I don't know if that made Jack feel better, but he slept until morning. Which I'll write about soon.

Rudolph Book

"Where's the adomible snow monster?"
"Is THAT the adbomibled snow monster?"
"Why is he not waking up?"
"I don't LIKE the adbombidle snow monster!"
"Why is the abdomible snow monster out there?"
"Where is the abdominable snow monster?"
"Why did they drop a big rock on him?"
"Because they didn't want him to wake Rudolph up?"

"Where is the adbodmible snow monster?"

"Mommy, let me show you the abdomible snow monster...."

"Why is he up there? Is he going to fall down?"

"Where is the abomidable snow monster?"

Frosty

Jack likes Christmas songs, but Grammy, when she puts him down for naps, tends to sing religious songs. She sang one, and Jack said, I don't think that's a Christmas song. And Grammy said, it is if you go to church.

So then she sang Frosty the Snowman, and came to the line about him dancing around, and Jack said, but Frosty doesn't have any feet. And she said, you're right, how do you think he dances?

And Jack said, "He dances right on his butt."

Went on the train with Mommy and Daddy

Since we live in the New York City area now, we felt compelled to do those things that New York City area people do, which is to go into Rockefeller Center at Christmas time and see the big tree and the lights and stuff. And we figured, hey, it'll be great for Jack: He'll get to ride a train for the first time, and see the biggest tree ever, and see some lights and stuff.

So we lined up a babysitter for Kate, talked up the trip to the City all week, and when Saturday morning rolled around, off we went. First came dressing really warm, which Jack is typically reluctant about -- I think he doesn't quite get that just because it's not cold INSIDE the house, it will be cold outside. But we put on heavy jackets and hats and gloves; well, most of us did. I forgot my hat, which is ironic since I have the least hair. Anyway, that wasn't the worst of the things I forgot.

We left the house fully expecting to miss the train, seeing as it came every half hour, we had about 10 minutes to get there, for the next one, and we had to stop for cash. We were still on the way for cash when we realized that I'd forgot to bring the umbrella stroller. Which meant I'd be carrying Jack a lot in the city. If we got there. Fortunately, we made the train, and stood on the platform to see a whole lot of trains zoom by -- one of which was finally ours. This was one day after I'd got Batman for Jack (see below blog entry) so he was carrying Batman, who I naturally knew had only about a 50-50 shot of not being left on the train, dropped between the train and the platform, etc.

Jack was properly appreciative of the train. I think he was quiet as it got started, but since it started up slow, he was like, "Why is it stopping?" And then it picked up, fast, and he was like, "Ohhhhhhhhhhhh." At some point he was on his knees at the window. At another point he was standing Batman up on the windowsill to look out. Toward the end of the trip, which was probably half an hour or so, he was already starting to fade. We'd got a late start and it was kind of close to when his nap would be, plus he often falls asleep around midday in the car anyway, so why would it be any different with the train.

We got off the train and walked through Grand Central Station. "Daddy, carry me! Carry!" Hands reaching up to me. He was heavier with the bulky jacket, I think. I'd been to Grand Central once before, maybe, but it was still pretty insane on a Saturday. There was Christmas music playing and a light display flashing on the ceiling above us. That was kind of nice. Jack was interested. Not enough to walk much, but interested.

We walked to Rockefeller Center. I think I thought Emily would know where she was going a little better than she did. We referenced the map a lot, with my mind racing, yes, this is how people get robbed in The Big City: by looking like they don't belong and don't know what the hell they're doing.

And it was cold. Really cold. Unseasonably cold, actually, in the 30s. And windy. Walking between buildings on our way there, it was like we were in a wind tunnel, or maybe Alaska, and I was carrying my sled dog in my arms. Or Jack, whichever. Who wasn't named after Jack London, although that's kind of a cool name. Jack London Richardson. Anyway.

We finally got near, got swept across the street in a sea of people. Jack had been talking about going home for a little while. He was cold. But we were going to see this huge tree first. Got there. Saw it, took some pictures, said, Jack, isn't that a big tree? Jack: "Yeah, that's a REALLY BIG TREE!" I think he was into it. When he wasn't feeling really cold. We stood up on a bench to get a picture, like everyone else, and got reprimanded by some security type. "Can't do that," he said. Er, everyone else is. But OK.

At the ice rink underneath the tree I saw Santa on ice skates. I did! I told Jack, and that piqued his interest quite a bit, but we didn't see him again and I suspect Emily thinks I was lying. Oh well. I saw him.

Somebody offered to take a picture of us, and we have two -- Emily and I are smiling in both, while Jack has his head buried in my shoulder. Tried to get him to look up and smile; no luck. Forgot to bribe him. Oh well.

Jack: "Want to go home!"

And so we did. We rode the train on an hour-plus round trip in order to spend about 30 minutes in the city (20 minutes on the disoriented round-trip walk from Grand Central to Rockefeller Center, 10 minutes there, which by the way I now recognize when I see it on the Today show and stuff - hey, I was there! I'd never been).

Monday afternoon when I picked Jack up at school, I checked the board outside his class where they say what every child said they did over the weekend. Next to Jack's name, where it often reads "Played with Mommy and Daddy" or something, no matter what we do, it read,

"Went on the train with Mommy and Daddy."

I'm Batman

So I kind of like superheroes and comic books. Have for a while. We all have our weaknesses. So, when we went shopping to Old Navy and Carter's in Stamford today, I brought the kids to the comic book store. Which is to say, while Emily went to the stores to shop for clothes for everyone, I pushed sleeping Kate in the stroller and half walked with, half carried Jack (When he gets tired he stops and holds his arms up to me: "Carry!") the two blocks or so to the store.

Ran over a couple of guys' feet on the way into the store with the stroller. Doorway is a bit narrow. We get inside, I exchange pleasantries with the owner, Jack says, "What's THAT? What's THAT, Daddy? Why is that back there? What is that DOING there?" And I live in fear that he's going to grab something valuable, destroy it, and he'll have the world's most expensive coloring book.

Anyway. In the store, Kate woke up and started wailing, which made sense; she's a girl, and there's not a lot of female energy in most comic stores. I actually had wanted to find a Daredevil action figure for Mikey, my nephew (I'll keep looking, Robin), but couldn't, but in the clearance rack there was a Batman figure, which caught both my eye, and Jack's. So yeah, we bought him. And Jack carried him around in his box for the rest of the excursion, into the other stores, and meeting up with Emily, and back home. And at home we got him out of the box, and played with him and The Flash together. This is really the best part -- Jack had Batman, who had a cape, and figured he flies, so he goes, "And he FLIES at the Flash!" and kind of holds him aloft. And I said, well, really, he kind of uses his cape to glide. And Jack says, "Oh." And then, regarding The Flash: "But him doesn't fly. Right?" And I said, no, he just runs really fast. And then Jack grabs the Batman and says "Oh no, he's chasing me, he's chasing me!" And I ran after him with the Flash, saying, I'm going to catch you! And we ran around the downstairs for about five minutes, living room, kitchen, dining room, hallway, living room. Etc.

Later that evening, shortly before bed, Batman was missing. And I asked Jack where he was, and Jack didn't know. And we looked a bit, and then I remembered that Jack had brought him outside with us at one point. We'd gone to get the mail, and we'd gone in the backyard to grill a steak in the evening. And of course, it's dark now. But I said to Jack, did you leave Batman in the yard? And he said no.

But Batman still didn't turn up, and while Jack was taking his bath, I said to him, are you SURE you didn't leave Batman outside? And he said no, but didn't sound convincing. And I said, well, maybe that's where he is, huh? And Jack said, maybe. And I said, well, after your bath, I'm going to go out and look for him, because we can't leave him out there. And Jack said, Why? And I said, well, he'll be lonely in the dark. And Jack said, why will he be lonely? (Silly me, I figured that explanation would make sense to him, but it didn't.) So I said, well, actually, we just can't leave toys outside. Another kid could find him, or a dog or something.

Now, THIS made sense to Jack. "Yeah! A dog could find him. And he could BITE him! Or another kid could take him. Don't do that! Don't take him or, or BITE him!" So we were in agreement that I had to go out to get Batman.

You can probably guess the rest. I went outside in the pitch dark with a little lantern light and walked around for 10 minutes, expecting to find Batman at best and dog poop or half-eaten animals or something or whatever at worst. But instead I found nothing. Went back inside and told Jack I couldn't find him but I'd keep looking. And then I put Jack to bed and spent another 15 minutes outside, walking up and down the yard, in the dark, looking for Batman. And I realized that me in the dark with a flashlight on a manhunt -- a Batmanhunt -- well, I was Batman, really.

Later that evening, I found Batman, inside, sitting in plain sight on the sideboard next to the dining room table.

Bad Pronouns

Jack's latest charming thing, to me anyway, is his misuse of pronouns. He's totally attached to his stuffed puppy right now, and that's where it crops up most often. Not "He needs a bath," but "Him needs a bath."

"Him is SLEEPING."
"Him got a shot."
"Him wants to go upstairs."

Part of me wants to correct him. Say things like, "Oh, HE does?"

But I let it pass.

Him won't be this little forever.

Nighttime Visits

Jack's been waking up during the nights, or early in the morning. There are various factors. It's gotten cold, and he tends to kick his blanket off, so he wakes up cold sometimes. Kate might wake him up on occasion with her crying. Daylight savings. Whatever.

Anyway, he's been waking up. Here are some of the stories.

- Heard Jack wailing. Walked into his room. He was standing next to his bed, his stuffed puppy locked in his elbow, head back, wailing. "Jack!" I said. "What's wrong?" "WANT MY LITTLE TEDDY BEAR!!!!!" He has these two little bears they gave him at the hospital when he had surgery. They tend to get lost in the blankets. I found the missing one and gave it to Jack. He immediately stopped crying, flopped on the bed, and fell asleep.

- Jack was at the side of the bed, holding his step stool for the bathroom sink. I groggily awoke, it was almost time to get up. "Jack...whu...?" I mumbled. "Want to get into bed with you and Mommy." Now, we're not opposed to this, except for the fact that 1) he doesn't sleep, 2) he chatters away and we don't sleep, and 3) he'd wake up Kate, who's about 4 feet away in her crib. I walked Jack back to his room.

- Jack was at the door. I got up, walked him back to his room. It was around 1 a.m. He sat down glumly on the side of the bed. "Jack, what's wrong?" I asked. "I don't want to be all ALONE in here....." he said pitiably. I really didn't know what to say there.

- I went to bed at 11. Slept. At 11:30, I woke up to see Jack there. "I'm coldy, Daddy. I'm coldy." I put the blanket on him and went back to bed. 11:45, he's back. "Don't want the blanket on." "OK, Jack, well, you can just kick it off, but I think you'll be warmer with it," I said. 12:15. Jack again. "Daddy, will you put the blanket on me."

- 5:30. Jack at the bedside. "Is it morning time?" No, Jack, it's the middle of the night. I bring him back to his bed.

- 5:45. Jack again. "NOW is it morning time?"

Jack's Halloween

Thought I'd try something a little different this time. I'm going to turn this one over to Jack.

Playing outside at school when a big car pulls up. It's Daddy's car! He's coming this way! "Daddy!" I run over to greet him. We're going home! No...wait....this is Halloween! Yeah! When I get candy! He picks me up, I say goodbye to the teachers, and we go to the car. Hey, there's my baby sister! She's not usually here for the pickups. I want to touch her head! "Baby Kate....Baby Kate...Baby Kate...How much is today." That's my new baby song.

Mommy was inside getting my stuff. There's my treats bag! And my dragon costume! And my treats bag. With CANDY! Mommy says Heyo to me. "Heyo!"

We're going to Aunt Taffy's. Kate starts crying. "Bay-beee Kate....Bay-beeeee Kate...." We leave Mommy and Kate there. Daddy asks if I want to go get the pizza for dinner. "And garlic balls?" Yes, he says, and garlic balls. "Want to go get pizza with Daddy."

At the restaurant these men are throwing pizza dough into big ovens. "What are those men DOING? Look at those guys! What are they DOING?" Daddy says they're making pizza. And garlic balls? I wonder.

Back at Aunt Taffy's. We're eating pizza and garlic balls. StaceyLyndsay is crying. She wanted chicken fingers. I like chicken fingers too, but this is PIZZA.

We finish eating. LyndsayStacey is crying. She hurt her hand. She's sad.

Now we're all in our costumes. Mommy is taking pictures. When do we go get our candy?

We go outside. StaceyLyndsay and Ranna go first, with Uncle Ekan behind them. Uncle Sam next. Then us. "Carry!" Daddy says he'll carry me some but I have to walk up to the houses, say trick or treat, and Thank you.

First house. I walk up the driveway. Long driveway! Pumpkins on the lawn. "Daddy, look at that big pumpkin!" People on the porch. I hold out my pumpkin bag. She's saying something to me. Does she have candy? There's candy! Daddy's yelling to say thank you. "Thank you." She's smiling at me. She gave me candy!

Next house. I'm walking again. Woman on porch. She says, ooh, what a scary dinosaur. "It's a dragon," I say. More candy!

Next house. Woman calls somebody inside to come out. It's a BIG DRAGON. That scary. Want Daddy. Da....Hey, she's got candy. OK. Get the candy and go. Daddy's there. "Jack, that guy has a big dragon costume like you do." I say, "yeah...."

More houses. I have a lotta lotta candy. Tired now. "Daddy, carry." Daddy carries me.

We're back at Aunt Taffy's. Daddy's not walking as fast as he was when we left. Not sure where Ranna LyndsayStacey are. They were moving FAST. I couldn't SEE them. Yeah.

Sitting on Aunt Taffy's porch. Daddy says, you can have 5 pieces of candy. Aunt Taffy: "FIVE? I let my kids have one." Daddy says, as I was saying Jack, 3 pieces of candy. "Okay." I eat three pieces of candy. I have a lot of chocolate on my hands and face.

In the car on the way home, I'm still eating that third piece. Full now. "Daddy, I want to save this one for later. Daddy, I want to save this piece for later." He says okay and holds out his hand. I hand him the rest of my chocolate bar. It kind of melted. It sticks to my hands a little bit. And his.

Jack, he says, we can't save this. You have other candy. I'm full and tired so I say OK. I watch as he drives one-handed and asks Mommy for a wipe. I think he has a lot of chocolate all over his hand.

We go home and go see Max's Mommy next door. She gives me a bag of treats. More candy? Or toys? Tired now.

We're back in our house now. Daddy and I go out on the porch to light the pumpkin. He says, "Happy Halloween" to us. Max and his Daddy come over and we give him candy.

We blow out the pumpkin. Halloween is over.

But I have a lot of candy.

Is tomorrow Christmas?

Breakfast table

Jack's been waking up too early a lot of morning. Sometimes I think Kate wakes him up, sometimes it's cold (he kicks the covers off), whatever. This morning he woke up around 5, we put him back in bed, he got up 20 minutes later, etc. Finally I got up with him, went downstairs, made coffee, watched Red Sox highlights (Sox win). Later there was some kind of meltdown -- I think he wanted more raspberries, or he didn't want milk, or some other kind of thing that only would upset him if he, you know, woke up around 5. He wailed a lot.

Anyway, so he and I are eating breakfast, which is to say, I'm guzzling coffee and he's eating raspberries and cheerios. Emily comes downstairs, and she looks at Jack, says Hi, and then: "Jack....what was the matter this morning? What was the problem?"

Jack looks at her, still shoveling in raspberries. He pauses, then raises a fist in the air.

Jack: "Red Sox win!"

Excitement

Jack burst into the door this afternoon. "Daddy, LOOK!" He was waving a piece of black construction paper that had little jack-0-lanterns and other Halloween stuff glued onto it. "Look at THIS. It's a pumpkin....and a pumpkin....and a ghost. And a pumpkin!" I said, Wow, Jack, did you make this? "YEAH!" Well, it's great, I said.

Later, I asked him if he wanted to put it on the fridge. Silence. Fridgerator? "Oh! YEAH!" He grabbed it and ran off to the kitchen. We put it on, and he took the magnets off of everything else on the fridge to use all 20 or so of them to hold it up. He's thorough.

The Cherry Man

I'm too tired to remember all of the funny things involving Jack in the last few weeks. What's great is that he actually makes jokes -- says and does things that he knows are funny. And he merges different things and comments and so that he'll be telling a story that gets funnier because he's mixing something we talked about earlier with something we read in a book with a Backyardigans episode.

So the one I'll remember for now is just that there was this big construction site truck with a crane on top of it and a basket at the end of the crane for a guy to stand in. And I would have had no idea what to call the thing, obviously, except Jack has a book with a picture of a construction site, and they call that truck a "Cherry Picker." So I told Jack that, and he repeats it. "Cherry picker."

The next day we're at his school, day care, and I'm dropping him off. Out the windows, across the street, there's all this construction going on. And what do we see? Of course: a cherry picker. Jack runs to the window, as does this other kid, Teddy, and they stand on little chairs to look out. And Jack says, "What is the cherry man doing?" And the crane start going up higher into the sky. And Jack's all, "Oh! Look!" (He kind of says "yook," which is very cute.) "The cherry man is going up into the sky!" And then: "Yeah! He's going WAYYYYYYYY up there." Finally I left, while they were still marveling at the cherry picker.

I guess I've got one more story, which is that I picked him up the next afternoon, and it was a gray day, so they were inside (normally they're in the playground if it's nice). I walk into the room and I see him over at this little low table, kind of leaning over it, talking to other kids. Funny; it was like he was in high school or something. Anyway, he sees me out of the corner of his eye or something, and runs over -- he has a little, it looks like part of a book in his hand. There are pictures on it of various insects, spiders, frogs, that kind of thing. "Daddy, look!" he says. "A spider! And a, a....what's this thing?" I say, that's a beetle, Jack. And he says, "Oh! A beetle!" And then he points at another one: "And what's that?" That's a bee, I say. And he says, "Oh! A BEE! And he will STING me! Don't sting me, bee!"

Just something about Jack easily transitioning from talking to other kids to talking with me to talking with a picture of a bee. It's good stuff.

Halloween Song

Jack has a new song about the upcoming holiday, one that he made up himself and sang several times today. It features his basic understanding of the holiday, as well as impressions from the decorations on our neighbor's lawn. It varies with each telling, but goes something like this:

Halloween
Halloween
And I go trick or treating and get candy
and the Pumpkin snowman
and the goats* in the truck
and I get Murdoch (a Thomas train he's been on about lately) and go trick or treating
Halloween
With Mommy Daddy and Jack and Kate
And the Tigger and Santa and pumpkin snowman on the lawn
and the very big spider spinning her web
Halloween

* (He means "ghosts.")

Something like that, anyway.

New Kid in Town

Haven't blogged in a while, largely because I'm exhausted, or don't have the time, or am too tired to find the time, one of those. But a lot's been happening and I'll try to recap....

We have a new baby, a girl named Kate, who's exactly three weeks old as I write this. Pretty cool, and I'm going to have to write about her at some point being as I've been changing some of her diapers, too. For the most part, though, she's been attached to her Mommy by, as an old codger in Fletch might say, one of those two protuberances about grab height. Anyway.

We kind of expected this to be a little tough on Jack, and it is. Mostly in subtle ways. He hasn't thrown tantrums about her, or been angry or jealous of her, at least not outwardly. He likes her, actually, wanting to hold her -- he looks so proud when he's sitting on the couch with his arms out and hands upturned and we place her in his arms. He's awkward about it, but also kind of beaming. When she cries or wails, he's all "What's the matter, baby?" And, "It's okay baby! Don't cry. What's the matter, baby?" So sweet. And he's already taken to including her when he goes around naming us all and pointing: "Mommy....Daddy....Kate...and JACK!" with a big point to himself.

It's the little things. Him getting more upset over minor stuff, partly because I think he's tense, partly because he's not getting as much sleep (which might have something to do with Kate -- as I write this, he's only napped at home ONCE since Kate came home), partly because of this new kid in town...a combination I'd guess. He wants Mommy to come kiss him goodnight, for the second or third time, and Mommy can't, because she's feeding Kate. Or he keeps getting out of his bed, wanting more stories, or whatever, but it's late and Daddy is starting to get upset, because jeez, Jack, you've got to sleep, and you'll just be even crankier tomorrow. And of course it gets worse, not better, because we all get less sleep and then he doesn't want to eat as much ("I'm tired....I'm sleepy, Daddy"), some of which is because he actually is tired and some of which is just an excuse to avoid doing something he doesn't want to do. And the result is we're more frustrated and more tired and he's more upset and.....yeah.

There was a stretch of bad days, and then a good one, and I think today was okay. Tuesday, Emily's birthday, was a little of both. He was whiny in the morning, and didn't want to go to school, and woke up early, and all that. Then in the afternoon I picked him up at school, and he was playing with trains, and was happy. I went over and he gave me a train, and he said, I don't think this one has a name. And I said, well, maybe he has a name...let me see. And I checked the bottom, and I saw his name was Murdoch. So I said to Jack, see, he has a name, it's Murdoch. Jack looked down and smiled at the train. "Murdoch," he said, with a certain satisfaction. "Oh! His name is Murdoch, Daddy." That's right, Jack.

And then we went home, and the guy next door is apparently having his paved driveway extended over half of his lawn, I have no idea why. But there was a big digger truck there, and Jack was pretty excited. And then his cousins showed up for Emily's party, and Jack was happy, and said, "Look at the BIG DIGGER." And jumped up and down.

On the downside, the evening ended badly, partly because the playing doesn't always go great with the girls, a combination of him being a so-so sharer and them being older or whatever, and partly because he was so tired. But ultimately we did go upstairs, and had his bath, and read a story, and when we lay down he fell asleep fairly quickly, his arm tight around my neck. Took me 5 minutes to extricate myself and leave the room.

Basically it's just tough. Emily told me she talked to him once about his feelings during one of his little breakdowns. She said, "It's all very strange and different, isn't it?" And Jack, in tears, said, "Yahhhsss!" which was part sob and part shout. And it is, for all of us, but especially for him, because of course he didn't know this change was coming, no matter how much we tried to explain it.

But we're going to get through it, starting with getting a little more sleep. Right now.

Surgery, Part II

Leading up to Jack's surgery, we stressed a lot, worried about worst case scenarios, heard stories about how scary it is when your child gets anesthesia, all that. We gave Jack ice cream and gummi bears and all that, and told him that a doctor was going to fix his owies. Meanwhile, Emily was worried she was going to go into labor the night before or day of. I had images of Father of the Bride, either 1 or 2, I don't know which, where Steve Martin is running back and forth from his wife's room to his daughter's. Probably it was 2. Anyway.

We slept badly, then got up and entertained Jack until we had to go to the hospital. We had to be there at 8:30 a.m. The morning had a feel of wanting it to be over with, so we kind of just got ready and went, early, and were there. Paperwork, admitting, and then into a room. Jack wasn't crazy about it. Not surprisingly. We had to get him out of his clothes and into these little flimsy pajamas, which we later learned we put the top on backwards (with the ties in front), and they said, well, they'll come get you at 9:30. And then we sat on his bed and watched TV, and tried to act like we weren't worried.

They finally came around 10. I carried Jack, Emily walked beside us. Then we got to the operating room area and they let me and Jack go through the door and Emily went off to the waiting room. A tough goodbye. Jack and I were directed to a chair sort of in a hallway just off the operating room. The anesthesiologist who looked a lot like Jerry Seinfeld came out, asked us questions, I might have signed a form or something, so on and so forth. Seinfeld left and we sat there for another 10 minutes. Jack: "I want to go." Me: "Well, we can't, yet."

They came to get us and we walked into the operating room. Lots of big lights and equipment extending from the ceiling. Very X-Files-ish. Seinfeld was there and he told me to put Jack on the table. Jack was great, just lay there, trusting. Seinfeld commented on it. I held Jack's hand and they put the mask over his face and counted, and in less than a minute he was asleep. It wasn't as scary as I'd been told, actually. And they said, OK, he's great, you should leave now. And so I did.

Emily and I waited in this little room. Bad coffee. Bad TV. Bad magazines. Comfortable chair I guess.

About 45 minutes later, Dr. Peter walked through the door. He was only halfway in the door as he was saying, "Jack's doing fine!" Love Dr. Peter. Thank you for not being all, "Hi there, how are you doing? Emily, how's the pregnancy...."

We went into the post-operative (I guess) room to see him. It was big, with lots of beds -- really, it looked like something right out of MASH. Kind of scary, actually. Jack was in a nurse's lap in a chair (rocking chair? can't remember), kind of curled up. His back to us. Mostly hidden. He was awake but really out of it. We had been warned the anesthesia was very disorienting and stuff, but still. Scary. We both touched him, held his hand, talked to him. He was kind of like, "Mommy...ahhhhhnnn....Daddy....." Kind of not making a lot of sense. First Mommy held him, then me. They had me sit in a wheelchair with Jack on my lap, and then they wheeled us out of the room. We had to sit there for a good 5 minutes, with Jack moaning, while they filled out some kind of paperwork or whatever. I'm sure it was important, but geez, we didn't have to sign anything, get us out of there, please. So they wheeled us out of the room eventually, and all the way back to his room, where we'd started out.

We put Jack carefully on his bed. He wanted us with him. We all kind of squeezed onto the little single hospital bed together. Not easy. Plus he had the IV in, and various bandages and such, so we're trying to lie there without hurting him in some way. They needed to keep him there for a couple of hours after the surgery, to make sure he was OK. I think we watched some TV, and as he gradually became less disoriented and plaintive, we gradually calmed down and relaxed. He was OK, it was OK. And it was going to all be over.

And then they offered popsicles, and Jack -- starting to be himself again -- said, "A red one." And then: "TWO popsicles." And everything was fine.

Grandma and Jack

OK, we've got a new baby, her name is Kate, and she's fantastic. And I still need to write about Jack's surgery, Part II. But this was too good not to write down.

With the baby, Emily's been in the hospital and I've been there a lot the last two days. Jack has, understandably, been off his routine....Grandma got him up yesterday morning and put him to bed last night, he went to Temple with the Rosenfelds on Thursday (while we were, you know, having our baby), and Grandma put him to bed last night. He woke up early this morning, he's a little off his game, missed his nap, we took two trips to the hospital, etc. Busy day.

So Grandma brought him home tonight and gave him dinner and put him to bed. Here's how it went, according to Grandma.

"We got home and I made him a hotdog and some macaroni ('What's that?' he said, so I called it pasta, and it was fine). And he also wanted applesauce. I said, you have to eat two hotdog pieces and two pastas. So he ate the two bites of hotdog, and a pasta, and said, 'Now can I have my applesauce?' and I said, did you have two pastas? and he said, no, I only had one. And I said, well. So he ate it, and I gave him his applesauce, and he ate it all and then he ate down his entire hotdog and pastas, and then he sat back and said, 'Holy Cow, I ate my whole dinner!'

"And then he sat back in his chair and said, Grandma, I'm sleepy. So, I took him right upstairs, and decided not to do the bath. And I was getting him changed in his room, telling him he's not going to have a bath, and he said, 'Do I get pajamas?' And I said of course. And then I was washing him off a little with just his diaper on, and he said, 'Do I get a new diaper?' and I said of course, and got him his new diaper and pajamas. And then as I was doing that, he wanted to sit on the potty. And he sat down, and then after a minute he said, 'Grandma. I'm very sleepy.'

"So we went into the bedroom and he was all ready for bed, and he said, 'No stories. Just songs.' So I started doing songs, and he was tired and falling asleep, so I was going to leave, and he put his arm around me and said, 'Don't leave yet.' And we were lying there, and the doorbell rang. (It was flowers from Robin, thanks Robin! And Mom and Dad yours came too, thanks!) And I said, well, I have to get that. And Jack said, 'I'll wait for you.'

"And when I went back upstairs five minutes later, he was fast asleep."

Surgery (Part I)

Last Tuesday was kind of a typical day with Jack. His school was closed all week, so we went to the beach in the morning. Emily and I had been going back and forth on whether we should see a doctor for what appeared to be an allergic reaction/rash he had. It showed up occasionally....didn't bother him, but it was noticeable. We thought it might be his sunblock, or strawberries, or prickly heat...whatever. Anyway, at the beach that morning it seemed worse, so I made an appointment for that afternoon.

We went to the doctor, and while she was checking him all over, she noticed a swelling in the groin area. She thought it was a hernia, but wanted him to see another doctor to be sure. She kind of shrugged off the allergies ("Keep a food diary," she suggested, "Or try Benadryl if it itches") which was just as well, since I'd totally forgotten about it too. Especially when she said if it WAS a hernia, he'd need surgery. All righty then.

We drove home, and I was kind of teary. My son needs surgery. Pretty scary. I was torn between regretting the visit which had dumped this in our lap and feeling lucky that we'd found out this way, and not -- as the doctor had said -- him waking up crying and in pain, which might have happened down the road. He, of course, was acting perfectly normal, wanting to play with the trains in the doctor's office, smiling and laughing during the examination, etc.

She had said she hoped the doctor would be able to see us to confirm her diagnosis by next week. By some weird coincidence, the doctor she recommended, one of the leading pediatric surgeons in Westchester County, turned out to be our brother in law's Dad's...well, kind of confusing, but he was Ian's Dad's cousin's husband. Or something like that. And he'd had Thanksgiving dinner with us. As a result, we were able to see him the next day, and yup, it was a hernia. Surgery scheduled for the following Tuesday. This office visit, Jack's second in two days, wasn't as much fun for him. Although he enjoyed playing with the toys (a little kitchen, some trucks, so on and so forth), he was a little wary of the doctor, who he didn't remember, of course, and the whole place was unfamiliar. Plus it was his naptime.

Anyhoo, we drove home, and that night Jack got ice cream, gummi bears, pretty much whatever he wanted.

There were some tears (ours, not his).

There were the various explanations to friends and family members (turns out it's the most common surgery performed on children, and even Emily's boss's daughter had had it done, by our surgeon, too!).

And on Saturday afternoon we went over to the neighbor's and Jack played with their son Max, and we told them everything, and we watched the kids play. And it was nice, you know, because it felt like the kind of thing that Jack should be doing -- not sitting around our house while we fretted and worried about him, worried about him suddenly saying his groin hurt or something.

And that's when we really worried about him having surgery. Because everything was supposed to be fine, but all I could think about was what if it wasn't.

So the next few days we basically spoiled him rotten.

To be continued.

Jackisms

Jack had surgery recently, but I'm going to blog about that another time. Some cute stuff to get to first....I'll call them Jackisms.

(After going to see boats with Grandpa) "I never seen a lot and lot of boats...I never seen so many boats!" (Holds both hands out for emphasis)

(The next morning after his surgery) "Some of them had masks....kind of scary." (Presumably talking about the doctors.)

(Also) "I'm going to call the people at the hospital who fixed me, because they found my bears." (Jack had been given a couple of little stuffed bears wearing 'Greenwich Hospital' t-shirts. Somehow, they'd been left in the room. I went back to the hospital later that night, after Jack had gone to bed, to get them.) "I'm going to give them to my sister. They're babies too."

(Told to me) "You have a bandaid. I have TWO bandaids. A big one and a small one." (Talking to mommy. OK, maybe everything he says isn't fascinating to everyone.)

(Jack asks about dessert.) Me: "What did you have in mind?" Jack: "Um...(smiles)...Green stuff?" (Lime sherbet.) "OK, Jack, I think we have that. And maybe there's a special treat, too." Jack's eyes get wide. "Do you know what?" Jack: "Um....gummi bears?" "That's RIGHT." Jack, like his Daddy, loves gummi bears.

"Help, the monster's coming!" (Laughter.) "Monster coming!!!!" (Runs across room, hides in corner.) Me (or mommy) "I'm not a monster, I'm your Daddy (or mommy)!" Not sure where this came from, but at some point Jack decided it was quite hilarious, if one of us was coming to put him to bed, or change his diaper, or whatever, to say "The monster's coming!" or "Monster coming!" It really is pretty funny.

Jack noticing Mommy's pregnant belly at the breakfast table. Big smile: "It looks almost like a ball!"

Jack has a Spider-man pop-up book (actually it's mine, but you know). Each page has little inserts that you can pull out and they have information about Spider-man, his friends, his foes. Jack's favorite part of the book is finding them and pulling them out. "This also gets out," he says. And then: "This ALSO gets out...." (Smile.) "This also gets out....."

Me reading a new book to him today, where the little yellow dog finds out that what he hoped was a big bone is actually a skateboard. "Phooey!" says the dog. This is apparently the funniest word Jack has ever heard. He cracks up. I say it again. Screams of laughter. And again. After a few more times, Jack, gasping with laughter: "Don't say it again!"

OK, tomorrow or the next day I'll write about the surgery.

Told to Me

I don't actually see all of Jack's best moments. Sometimes I just hear about them....

1. Aunt Cathy has had a major cleaning project going on in her finished basement, with the result being that Jack can't go down and play with all their toys when he's over there -- there's just too much chaos. Last weekend Jack went over there with Emily. When he saw Aunt Cathy, he said, "Are the toys clean yet?"

2. Today he was playing with blocks, while Emily was working at her laptop. "Look at my trees, Mommy." She was kind of mmhhmm, mmhmm. He persisted, so she went down to look. He'd made two beautiful little trees by stacking blocks. And was very proud of them.

3. Yesterday at daycare Emily was getting his stuff after picking him up. She heard Lila's Mom say, "Jack, no, wait for your Mommy." He'd started to leave with a girl in the class and her Mom.

4. This one I was there for. We went out to dinner with Cathy and Grandma and the girls. Afterward I sat out front with Jack (he was antsy in his seat) and then the twins came out with us. The three of them suddenly broke into first, Twinkle Twinkle little star, and then, Now I know my ABCs. Sweet.

5. According to Grampa, whenever they go out Jack wants to walk. A lot. Everywhere. Unless he's really tired.

Repeats

Jack often repeats things we say, and what's funny is that even if it's words that he has no idea what they are, he blusters along anyway. So today we were making a big train out of blocks, and as I added the last one I said, Ah, the creme de la creme! And Jack laughed and nodded, saying, "...the creme da la googly...the creme da la dideee..." Basically just cracking himself up with the words, repeating them just to hear them roll off his tongue.

We were lining up his trains on top of their little information cards, and he came to two trains that didn't have any cards. "Where do these trains go?" he asked. Er, they're, um, supervising, I said, standing them near the other ones. Jack started lining up other random trains and things. "They're supervising, too," he said.