No It All

Jake is a lefty… just like his daddy and Grandma.  Papa is itching to get him into baseball.  Jakey’s into anything that involves throwing, hitting or kicking.  And I’d say he’s got a pretty good shot at being a bona fide athlete.

Now Nate.  We don’t know Nate’s handedness yet, but we do know this one’s got uncanny coordination.  His walk is still a bit Frankensteinesque, but he’s scaling furniture and fixtures Jake has just mastered recently.  Nathaniel has always known how to get down from the couch and bed safely (feet first) without the hours of training we poured into his brother.  I’ve seen him leap onto the high chair and “sail” it across the kitchen.  If Papa’s looking for a baseball protege, he’s got one already prepping for the pitching mound.

Today I scolded him for throwing books.  Throwing blocks.  Throwing horses (at Luke).  Throwing sippy cups.  Throwing bunnies.  And thinking about throwing gas stations.  Not only does he have a mean one-handed fastball, but also a crushing two-handed overhead hurl.  He’s been clocked at 98, easy.

This week James noticed an uncommon silence… only to find Nate poised with the MacBook at the apex of his signature two-handed pitch.

James has been awarded MVP for a remarkable diving catch.

i love
impossibly long eyelashes &
drooldrops &
hand dimples &
towheaded curls &
cheeks like cha siu bao &
enviable lips &
rubber band wrists &
sunlight through little ears &
square feet in round shoes &
big bashful eyes &
those thighs &
you

i love
almond eyes &
straight dark lashes &
sandy curls &
an upturned nose &
matching toes &
dramatic expressions &
apple cheeks &
perfect ears &
little creased chins &
irresistible grins &
you

Yesterday I caught Nate moving the toilet paper roll from the holder on the wall to the back of the toilet tank.  That’s what his daddy does so he can’t reach it.

Tonight we went to dinner at my favorite gourmet food court: San Pedro Square Market.  One time during a semi-meltdown, the guy at the Vietnamese spot actually got Jake to smile, via chicken on a toothpick.  Of course he remembered us the next time we came back and now Jacob only eats Vietnamese.

So tonight we went out for dinner and sat in our usual spot.  After dinner Jake and Daddy went to visit the men’s room.  I’m told the following exchange took place:

Jacob: “Ooooh, who made it so STINKY in here?”
Guy washing his hands at the sink: “I was wondering the same thing.”

Funny enough, the guy in the stall elected not to come out.

It’s May.  Wouldn’t you know, I’ve been meaning to write about Halloween?  Last October marked our third Shasta Halloween.  We got about 450 trick-or-treaters, which was way down from 2010.  I think the problem, or perhaps the financial upside, was that it fell on a Monday.

Jake was a lion, of course.  And Baby Nate was a tiger, a zebra and a lion, for various reasons I can no longer clearly remember.  I think it was one part Mommy indecision and at least two parts scratchy costume rejection.  Daddy was Handy Manny.  I was a lion tamer.

It was the first time Jacob discovered what Halloween was really about.  The year before he didn’t realize we were handing out candy… that was amazing.  Anyway, I’ll never forget this past year when we took JJ to Pat and Clarence’s house next door for his first trick-or-treating encounter.  Pat held the basket of candy out and there was an awkward moment where Jacob wasn’t quite sure what to do… Do I take some candy?  Is she offering me the basket?  His little optimistic self went with the latter.  It still makes me smile.

We spent a good half hour taking him around the neighborhood, coaxing him to approach our scary neighbors (the guy with the life size Harry and the Henderson Bigfoot head still sticks in my mind).  He would startle and jump back as creepy costumed kids passed us on the sidewalk while Natesy just hung out, dressed as the typical strolling zebra.

Halloween sparked Jakey’s enduring interest in the Big Bad Wolf.  And it began the last seven months of wardrobe changes, or as I’m sure he’d call it: Costume R&D.  Each morning his classmates may be greeted by a cowboy, a Giant (the baseball kind), Super Jake (the cape kind), an engineer (the choo choo kind), Fireman Jake (just the boots), Jake the Knight and of course, the always menacing lion.

Recently Jake and James discovered free books on the iPad.  I’m not sure exactly how they chose the two stories they downloaded, but most nights we now listen to strange versions of Goldilocks and The Princess and the Pea.  I say “strange” because they seem to have changed the stories just enough to have avoided copyright infringement.  What throws me off is that Papa Bear’s bed is too hard and Mama Bear’s bed is “too soft and white.”  I do have to say, the stories on the iPad are really cool.  They have embedded puzzles and sounds and my favorite thing in Goldilocks is that if I touch this pot several times it cracks, cracks, cracks and then shatters into pieces.  There’s something quite satisfying about breaking cyber-ceramics.

So back to my story.  These days, the bedtime negotiation consists of limiting the number of “stories on the iPad” in addition to regular books, and the latest addition to Jakey’s negotiation arsenal: “I want you to tell me a story with your mouth.”

This last one is the toughest as every good tale needs a plot, but I also have to be careful of duration as laying down in the bunkbeds is like shooting me with a tranquilizer gun.  This week I’ve told several “princess stories with my mouth.”  A few nights ago I made up a story about Prince William and Princess Kate.  Tonight I exercised a little creative license and made sure Cinderella didn’t marry Prince Charming till after she finished college.

Should I have upped it to grad school?  Nah, you’re probably right… I wouldn’t want to jeopardize the believability of the story.

It was approximately a year ago when Jake’s previous classroom devolved, as James describes it, into Lord of the Flies.  Ultimately the problem seemed to be too many kids, a disproportionate age spread, and perhaps a tad too much “free play.”  Every day I would encourage Jake to keep his feelings in check and every evening I would ask, with a bit of trepidation, “How was school today?”  Jacob would squint his big eyes, raise his chin and with a wide grin he would say, “Mama, nooooo bitiiiiiiiiiing!”

It’s now a year later and fortunately, the majority of his incident reports have documented him as the hapless victim.  Now my morning pep talks and casual evening inquiries are more along the lines of speaking up and developing an authentic interest in clean skivvies.  He squints his big eyes, raises his chin and with a wide grin proclaims, “Nooooo accidents!”  We’ve just had a great five day record.

Then last week there were several days where he came home and his face had been scrubbed pink.  There was some snippet of feedback about markers… I didn’t give it much thought.  But then, then Jacob was written up for hiding under a table and coloring all over his face.  The incident report read:  Jacob took some markers away from the writing area.  Jacob hid under a table and colored his face with the markers.  The marks on his face did not come off with water or lotion.  Please remind Jacob to use the markers in room 4 with paper.

I guess it was some kind of art “incident.”  Of course his rationale did not in fact shed light on this episode.  Frankly, I think when you’re three it’s just fun to rebel and experiment with self-inflicted body art.

In any case, my morning inspirational heart-to-hearts continue to evolve, weaving in subtle encouragement and at times, blatant directives.  At work they call this “Situational Leadership.”  Last week’s after school powwows had Jakey squinting his big eyes, raising his chin and with a wide grin announcing, “Nooooo accidents today.  And I didn’t draaaw on my faaaaace!”

We’ve suddenly noticed Nate talks.  I mean, we’ve known he says things,  but now all of a sudden, I think he’s saying lots of things.  Here’s a little cheat sheet, in case you find yourself in a deep discussion with our littlest conversationalist:

Mama = Mama

Dada = Dada

Mo = More.  When repeated over and over can sound indistinguishable from Mama and thus may be contributing to an overabundance of talking and an under-abundance of listening… MomoMamaMomoMama!

My = Mine.  Always uttered desperately when someone is trying to yank something out of his hands.  Again, Myyyyy can start to sound a lot like Mo and Mama, but I think it’s definitely different.

Baba = Bottle

Ba ba = Ball.  He totally understands,”Nate, go get your ball.”  Whenever I say this he whips his head around, smiles, goes to get his ball and then holds it in the air, laughs mischievously and bounces it.  Repeat.

Bye bye = Says this and waves.  Sometimes I catch him waving when we say other “b” words.

Agua = Water.  Miss Dulce’s charges always request agua.  I love this.

I think I’ve mentioned something about Nate and climbing… If my kids were goats, Jakey is a farm goat and Natesy is a mountain goat.

Every time we turn around, Nate has figured out how to climb up something we’d previously considered “safe.”  We find him standing on the coffee table, standing on the couch, and standing on the ottoman to try and reach forbidden toys that Jake has hidden on the mantel.  He’s always hanging from counters by his fingertips.  Pushing things over so he can scale up them to look out windows.  He’s been much more vertically predisposed than horizontally inclined.  Perhaps that’s what happens when you find you’re the shortest— you continuously strive for higher ground.

I’ve been thinking of writing a new Broadway musical… Toddler on the Roof.  One of the most memorable numbers goes something like this:

Messmaker, Messmaker,
Make me a mess,
Climbing inclined,
Yell in distress
Messmaker, Messmaker
Don’t give me that smirk,
Climb down and acquiesce.

Messmaker, Messmaker,
Stay away from the mail,
The floor was once clean,
It’s not a tall tale.
Who said you could have, a toy throwing spree?
The king of all debris!

It’s just a start, but it’s kind of catchy, huh?