Daddy, why are you so strong?

he asks as I belt him into his car seat - he's wearing the Mama-dictated attire of thermal, t-shirt, fleece jacket, and winter coat with full liner. So it's a tight fit.

"I'm a guy"

"I think it's maybe cuz you're short."

PS: Why Our Boy Is So Cool

Two more things:

First, when we were birthday shopping for Dada, he immediately saw something he wanted and said "you can get one of these for Dada and one for me!"

I told him I wanted to get him one for Christmas, which was true, and had planned to. "But I want it today," he said.

"Today" is one of his key words. "Okay, you can get it for Christmas, but I want it today." We've had to defer a lot to Christmas this year since everywhere we go, including the gas station and especially Walgreens, it's "can I get a toy?"

I told him he could have the present today, but to think about Christmas and how nice it would be to actually wait and then open it Christmas morning.

"Okay" he said, "but I want it today."


Imagine my surprise when we got back to the Beach and he told me to wrap it up and put it under the tree! He insisted I wrap it right away and that he also hold it in the backseat on the way to the Red House, all wrapped up with candy canes.

Second thing:

Earlier, at Grandma R's, he was exhausted and not listening. I kept telling him to stop fast forwarding through Grandma R's pictures on her MacBook that she was trying to show me, but he took over the controls. I suggested he lay down on the carpet. No! The couch then? No! One of the beds? Grandma R and Grandpa M offered. No! Well, how 'bout Drake's crate? Grandma R suggested.

"You mean that jail thing?" Jude said, sitting up. "Come on Mama! Watch me sleep in Drake's crate!"

Now, why didn't we think of that? The cute baby rag doll kitty got right in there with him and all was well.

Weekend Roundup

Let's start with the "mouth" Dada gave him... a (let me see if I get this straight) piece of a plunger that was supposedly a part to use to fix my toilet, which they did not end up using. It looks like a teeny tiny frisbee made out of pink plunger material, which at once Jude turned into a "mouth" that eats up every on the table. So when the girls came over last night to babysit while I went to yoga, the first thing he had to do was show them his "mouth."


What is that? they asked in unison.

Well, it's a mouth made out of part of the toilet, he told them. I explained that he and Dada were fixing the toilet together the other night and ....

So not one, but two 12 year old girls come over last night (they wanted to meet each other) and as I am rushing to get out the door, this is what I hear:

Girl One: Jude, do you want to play the Ninja game?
Jude: What ninja game?
Girl One: You know, the one where we knock each other down and put each other in jail.
Jude: Oh, yeah, that one, come on you two let's play that Ninja Game. Come over here on this carpet.

Laughter and mush piles and "Hai-Yas!" ensue and when I shout goodbye, I see that Jude has both girls down on the floor and Girl One goes: "Jude aren't you going to tie us up and put us in jail?"

He got right on that.

The next day, he glanced a New Yorker opened to the movie review page and laughed at the racy drawing of a man and a woman obviously in the heat of passion.

"Look at those two silly old guys, Mama!" he shouted. "What are they doing?"

"Oh nothing! Just being silly!" I tried to close the magazine, but he kept finding the same page and laughing. Note to self, but really, The New Yorker?

Last, he went nuts for the fake snow at Menards. Attached are some photos of weekend projects. Love, Mama

Hospitality

It's 5AM and I'm sleeping in Jude's bed. The cats come in and make a ruckus. I shoo them away and plant the clothes hamper in front of the non-latching door. I return to bed, and lie halfway off - I don't want to wake up Jude by climbing around into position. He pokes his head up and says, "You can use this pillow here if you'd like".

The Donut Story

So Jude has this plastic donut from god knows where.

Like this, only plastic.

He takes it everywhere for a while, then seems to forget about it. A year or so later I find it in the back of my car. I take it inside and put it somewhere, intending to hang on to it for sentimental reasons. Months later, Jude asks about the plastic donut. At first I feign ignorance, but he persists in asking. Finally I mumble something about "I'll look in the car". Because my memory only functions at the most basic levels, I truly believe it's in the car somewhere. Of course it isn't. I then become convinced that I've taken it to work and stashed it in a drawer. As soon as Jude becomes aware of this, and is also informed that at work I also have his Captain Kirk action figure, about four hotwheels cars and a stuffed swan, he demands their return. In replacement, he offers me a wooden top that I bought for him in Strasborg, France and with which he has never played. I ransack my desk and files at work, and search the house from floor to ceiling. I give up. One day, Jude finds the plastic donut. Under the lip of a dish I dump my wallet and keys into. Every day. Now he offers the plastic donut along with other inedible depictions of fruits, vegetables, burgers and fries, at his restaurant in the basement, where the service is fast and courteous, and the food is always taste-free.

The Red House and the Beach

Earlier this afternoon, while doing a Sponge Square Bob puzzle (which in Mexico, by the way, translates as "Mr Absorbency" and we have the beach towel to prove it) Jude told me it's no fun living in two places. We've been sort of selling him on the "you're so lucky you have two places with lots of love to live in" line, which seems to be protocol for this situation. Most days he is agreeable and seems to enjoy two homes, but he's right: It's no fun shlepping yourself and your stuff across 50th every other weekend, deciding where to stash newly acquired treasures:

Today at my doc's appointment he did very well and sat through the whole thing and did his dry erase book. As soon as the nurse left the room he went nuts. "Look Mama! Look!" I looked but I didn't see anything.

"Look Mama! Look! Over there!!!"

"I see a sink, some baby wipes, cotton balls... what Jude?"

"Gloves! Can I have some?"

Of course he meant the white latex surgical gloves, which he later named "Creamy." I said he could have a pair, probably, if he asked the nurse. He was shy about it, asking out of the side of his mouth, but she said "of course!" and that her kids also go nuts for the things.

He wanted to wear his new gloves out in the snow, but I made him wear the winter ones. Back in the car, he had the latex ones back on as soon as he got in and told me proudly. "Mama, I'm going to take these creamy ones to the Red House."

"Okay" I said.

"Yeah," he said, sealing the deal.

Then we went to Midwest Mountaineering and got some skis for him. I told him this was his Christmas and Hannukah present, but who am I kidding?


Back at the Beach he went into his frustration about living in two places. I tried to put a positive spin on it by asking what he liked about each house. About the Red House he said, "I like playing with my plastic donut. And I like being with Dada."

About the Beach he said, "I like playing with my toys and being with you." Earlier he wanted to play with the little statue on the altar of Shiva and Ganesha that I picked up at Arc. "It's you and me, Mama! I'm the elephant and the big tall king guy is you, Mama." Earlier he likened three socks to me, Dada, and himself. "This blue one can be Dada!"

Dada, maybe you can tell the donut story one of these days? I think honestly this blog is for the three of us.


Nighty night. Love, Mama

Prescience

So Jude and I are playing with a train set in the basement. After collecting the parts from where they are scattered all over the place, we've constructed a basic layout and I start making buildings out of Legos. Jude gets excited and dubs one "The garage" and one "The Store". He resists my efforts to build a pedestrian walkway over the tracks.

At some point he gets up and says "Mama's here. I hear a noise." and he heads upstairs. I know this to be extremely unlikely, but you never can tell. My cellphone rings, and it's Mama. I relate to her that Jude thought she had come home and was right upstairs moments before the phone rang, and it's declared to be a phenomena.

My 4 Year Old Spoken Word Poet

About a month ago, Jude and Dada were getting silly at the Red House and Jude says to Dada, "Your name is Doe-Doe."

And Dada goes, "Oh yeah? What's your name?"

And Jude goes, "JJ Coconut Park."

And it took. Jude's sometimes name is now JJ Spoken-Nut (oops!) JJ Coconut Park. In the past he has been "Deuce" and to us, "The Fee," but I think he is moving on to more grown up poet names. He is actually quite the poet, which is one of the reasons I wanted to start this blog. It's easier to centralize all the cool things he comes up with instead of chasing down the paper poetry trail.

Here is a story relayed to me last night via email from Dada: (The Email headline is "Tree Report" since he and Jude went to get a tree at Home Depot yesterday)

"It's very crooked in the stand, the stump needs to be cut and trimmed about 8" more, but it's fine otherwise, probably won't bother. We only have a few ornaments with hooks, I thought we had more, maybe I'll look around here tomorrow. We had some lights. CC crawled under the tree and he said "it's like she's a present", then he crawled under the tree and pretended he was the present. After digging for buried treasure in the bottom of the tub, he got out and pretended to be a present some more. I had to wrap the lady bug towel. One feature was a red button on his chest that sent him into a spazz dance and then caused him to freeze like a statue. I asked him if he needed batteries - he said yes, or he wouldn't be able to talk. I put some AA's in him. All presents were described as "a boy" and his name is Jude."