Real & Pretend

We are deep into the realm of real and pretend.  We drink pretend hot tea.  We hide from pretend T-Rexes.  We catch fish in the living room and the doll stroller is a lawn mower.  Jake frequently exclaims, “I have an idea!”  And then runs from the room.  Lately he likes to say, “Hmmm, I need someting” as he decides what we’re going to play next.

Now that Jake has been exposed to the scary worlds of Pixar movies and his granddad’s tiger mask, we have to make sure he understands the difference between real and pretend.  It seems like he gets it, but then there are days like today…

Today we went to the San Francisco Zoo.  It was the first time I’ve ever been there… the giraffes were amazing.  On our way in they had big banners advertising their summer tarantula exhibit.  This is Jake’s second trip to the zoo.  His daddy brought him on a special Friday date a few weeks back.

“Ooooh, look at that sign.  Tarantulas.  Scaaary,”  I say as we walk up to the gate.

“It’s just real Mama.  It’s just real.”

Clearly Jakey was trying to be comforting.

6 Month Stats

Before going to Nate’s 6 month doctor’s appointment, I made a bet. I bet that only ten pounds separated Nate from his older brother. I guessed he would be twenty pounds and that Jake was about thirty.

I was half right… Nate was 20.03 pounds and according to our bathroom scale, Jakey was 32 pounds. Is it possible that Natesy will only gain another ten or so pounds in the next two years?

Weight: 20 lbs .03 oz: 85.65% (down from 87.41%)
Height: 2′ 4″: 90.85% (up from 91.21%)
Head Circumference: 44.2cm: ~53%? (Dr. Nancy was on an envious Mediterranean vacation and therefore we saw another doctor whose printouts are different.  The areas for improvement and efficiencies in medical paperwork never cease to amaze me…)

So the gist of this blog post is that Nathaniel is still our little linebacker.  I find myself stalking the closest parking spots at his school in order to hoist his heft as few feet as possible.  When I pick-up watermelons, they feel light.  I have bruises on my forearms from carrying his car seat.  It’s more like an Easter egg basket with a medicine ball.

People at work lament about going to the gym.  I don’t feel guilty about not going to the gym at all… I’m all about Body By Nate.

I Want to Drive It

Jacob and Daddy don’t spend a lot of time in the car, but the time they do spend seems to be quite the bonding experience.  When asked, “What kind of musica do you like?”  Jake frequently answers, “Reggae!”  Just like his mama.

Not only does he rule the roost, he also rules the mobile coop.  We frequently hear the following commands with regard to how we drive, the volume of the radio and the windows:  “Faster!”  “Two hands on the wheel!”  “Louder.  Super louder!”  “Slower.”  “Too cold, guys, too cold.”  And he wants to drive… everything.

We used to see airplanes flying at 10,000 feet and he’d exclaim, “I want to touch it.  Reach it, Mama.  Reach it.”  Now it’s simply, “I want to drive it.”

If we see a cute car, “I want to drive it.”  A fire engine, “I want to drive it.”  A Harley Davidson, “I want to drive it.”  And after several short road trips over the last few weekends, any “cractor” (tractor) is fair game.  Bulldozers, backhoes, “snorts” (I’m sure the parents of little kids will get that last reference…).

On Labor Day we decided to drive down to Carmel Valley for lunch at the roadside stand.  Everywhere we looked there were rusty old tractors that he had to drive.  They seem to be doing Obama roadwork all across California with the most irresistible tractors and heavy machinery just beckoning to a two-and-a-half year old trapped in his car seat.

On the way home from Carmel, I talked James into stopping at Dennis the Menace park in Monterey.  The place was a zoo.  But I found ten bucks in the sand so both Jake and I had a great time.  Jacob and I promised to play just a little bit longer and then we would meet Daddy and Natesy at the car.  On our way back, I spotted a tractor that appeared to be unsupervised.  “Jacob, if you have really good behavior, I’ll let you drive that tractor.”  All smiles and sweetness.

I get him out of the stroller and put him up on the big filthy seat.  There are tons of levers and buttons and gadgets but fortunately, he seems content to sit on the seat and hold onto the steering wheel.  I’m on the lookout for a grumpy old man to come bursting out of nowhere, wagging a finger and telling us to get down.  Luckily, I don’t see anyone.  I take a long, casual look around me to survey the scene.

I notice this particular tractor is parked next to a tall fence.  Across the grass I see hundreds of headstones.  The building I had imagined would house the tractor police was possibly a mausoleum.  OK, it was definitely a mausoleum.

I turned back to the backhoe, knowing that this was no ordinary tractor…  this was a grave digger.  Jakey was having a blast.  “Allrighty then, let’s go find Daddy and Baby Nate!”

Am I a bad mother?

6 Minutes

As Jake cozies up to me in the morning, “Hi Mama.  I want to talk to you six minutes.”

Referring to the Toureg, “I want to drive my new car six minutes.”

Since this seems to be the magic number, I’ve tried it with varying degrees of success over the last month or two.  It worked like a charm at the park, “Jakey, six minutes and then it’s time to go.”

When reading endless bedtime stories, it had no effect.

Just

I spend a lot of time making sure Baby Nate is not in harm’s way.  Harm being another name for his enthusiastic and sometimes spastic, loving and roaring older sibling.

“Jakey, are you being careful?”
“I just rubbing him.  I just rubbing Baby Nake.”

“Gentle.  Gentle.  Jacob, no jumping around him.”
“I just patting him.”

“Jake, please give him some space.  You can’t lay on top of him.”
“I just hugging him, Mama.”

“JJ, he’s scared.  No roaring in his face.”
“I’m just kissing him.”

Today I asked, “Jakey, is Baby Nate OK?”
“I just love him, Mama.”

I just love you both.

Mousketeer

Every morning Jakey plays with me while I drink one cup of hot tea.  It’s one of the best parts of my day.

The other day I had my laptop out and he points to the keypad.

“There’s a mouse in der Mama.  A mouse in the computer.”

“Ahhh, yes.  I’ve heard that.”

“What’s this Mama?”  He asks as he points to the little eraser-like thing in the middle of the keys.

“Hmmm.  I don’t know, what do you think that is?”

“A mousetrap.”

Makes sense to me…

1/2 Birthday

Yesterday was Baby Nate’s very first half birthday!

I can hardly believe that I’ve been blogging since Jake’s first half birthday… almost exactly two years ago.  I owe Natesy a longing look at a Kara’s cupcake this weekend to celebrate… I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t like it anyway.  Over the last two days he’s had his first pears and his first bananas.  Both have caused gagging and shuddering… honestly, he shudders like a spider just ran down his back.  I think he even squints one eye when he does it.  It’s the best.  I forgot how fun baby food experimentation can be.

cupcake.jpg

A s’mores cupcake at Kara’s…I think his eyes shut as the lady was handing me my change… such a different baby this time around!

Kinky

Yesterday as we were driving, Jakey pointed out a “taxi car.”

“Look, a taxi car right there!”

“Oh yeah.  Looks like there’s a cowboy driving it.  Two out of three taxi cabs are gross Jacob. GroW-Os!”  James says this as he is reminded of a taxi ride in the city where he once got the entire back of his white shirt soaked in something brown as we were headed to our favorite pizza place in the mission.  We are committed to it being coffee.  Yes, definitely coffee.

“Kinky!”

“Kinky?!  Yes, I guess you could call some taxi rides kinky…”  At least in the movies.

“Peeeeeeeeeeeee-Youuuuuuuu!  Yu-cky!”

“Oh, yes.  Stinky!  A gross taxi car is stinky.”

Phew.  Jake’s vocabulary has exploded, but I wasn’t quite ready yet for kinky.

On Top of Spaghetti

On top of the carpet,
All covered with toys,
I lost my baby meatball,
When watching my boys.

Nate rolled off the rug,
On to the wood floor,
And then my sweet meatball,
Rolled onto all fours.

He rolled onto his back,
And back onto his tummy,
And then my little meatball,
Laughed at his mommy.