wild*life

All parents are over-impressed with their kids’ gifts and talents… it’s just an endearing fact of raising miniature people.  Last Thursday Natesy waved goodbye to Grandma for the first time.  We cheered and clapped like love-sick groupies.

It’s been no different with Jakey.  Just a week ago, he was looking at his favorite “cooking magazine” with his Daddy.  It’s actually a toy catalog.  They seem to rain down on our home in torrents from October through January.  “I want Santa bring me all these toys.”

So they’re reading the cooking magazine and Jake notices a telescope.
“Look Daddy, a listenscope.”

He’s told us about listenscopes before… we have no idea where they came from.

“What’s that for Jakey?” I ask.
“For watching meteor showers.”
“What’d you say?”
“For watching meteor showers.”
“Huh.  I thought that’s what you said.”  (See?  Clearly, as his mom, I’m impressed that at 2-years-old we’re discussing meteor showers.)

This morning he was using his toothbrush to “paint” on the bathroom window.

“Jakey, please stop putting your toothbrush on the window.  It goes in your mouth and that’s probably dirty.”
“I’m painting Mama.”
“Yes, I see you’re painting, but that’s yucky.”
“I’m painting a masterpiece Mama.”

Never argue with an artist.  Just nod in awe.

I do my best not to publish our dirty laundry on the internet– though it is tempting.  When surrounded by little boys, there is no limit to the number of embarrassing incidents and humbling anecdotes that are best not documented for the entire world to read.  Now with that said… here I go:

One of our favorite family rituals of 2011 has been waking-up on a weekend morning, driving the hill to Kelly’s Bakery for breakfast on the west side and then grocery shopping at New Leaf.  I must put in a plug for New Leaf as the unspoiled, crowd-free alternative to Whole Paycheck.  Jake can run through the aisles, barely harassing a soul.  I love it.  Except for inadvertently buying a jar of organic almond butter for $24– we’ve only had positive experiences with New Leaf.  Fortunately they accepted the return of said platinum-infused sandwich spread without hassle.  It had to have contained precious metals, right?

So back to my story.  We eat our usual deliciousness and Jake and I decide to go outside to chase birdies while Daddy and Natesy finish-up.  We’re in this very cute boutique store and Jakey is being so good “Not touching anything because it’s fragile, Mama?” when my cell phone rings.  In a tone I can only describe as irritated desperation, James implores me to meet him at the car immediately.

Jake and I show-up in our naivete and Nate is half naked on the tailgate on a brisk December morning, as I have the diaper bag.  Please pardon yet one more tangent…  when Jakey was a little baby I clearly remember one changing table incident I’ll describe no further than to say: Armpits.  OK, back to the tailgate.  If Jake can be summed-up as Armpits, Nate can be summed-up as Ankles.  There wasn’t a shred of clothing that survived.  Normally I would be prepared for such calamities, but I seem to have gotten overconfident.  We had to wrap a naked, freshly diapered Nathaniel up in a blanket and take him grocery shopping.  James was mortified to report on the state of the high chair he had frantically vacated–  when I heard this additional detail I must admit, I almost peed my pants laughing.  I really hope we can go back without being recognized.  You may find us at Gayle’s Bakery for the next few months…

It seems that was day one of Nate’s first bout with the stomach flu.  After a four outfit day yesterday, today I wised-up and dressed him in camo.

I’ve never really wondered what the best sound in the entire world is… and then I heard it.  The virtuous cycle of Natesy giggling, which makes Jakey giggle, which makes Natesy giggle even harder.  I’m sure even Mozart would agree.

Over Thanksgiving weekend, Jakey started calling us Mom and Dad.  And he wouldn’t stop begging to drive the car.  Apparently 2 is the new 16.

Today’s Natesy’s 9-month birthday!  I can hardly believe how fast he is growing up.  Happy Birthday my adorable baby… or should I say big boy?!

It seems he’s just become horizontally mobile and then… last Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, he pulled himself up into a standing position.  I just about fell over into the fetal position.

Maybe it’s all this talk of the Greek debt crisis.  Maybe it’s just that “back to school” time of year.  I’ve come to a distinct and indisputable truth… I’m the only girl… living in a frat house.  And my fraternity house is called Sigma Zu.

Case in point:
* Cars and trucks parked haphazardly, everywhere.
* Every week is rush.
* Someone threw-up in the bathroom.  Claimed it was milkshakes.  For all I know it was mudslides.
* Constant late night partying, yelling, whimpering.
* Heavy drinking.  Every three hours.
* Force-feeding new pledges.
* Wrestling.  Non-stop wrestling.
* Hours of required reading.
* And many a night I’ve woken-up wondering who is lying next to me.

I’m thinking of running for President.

Jake only knows the name of one place in the whole world.  And I’m pleased as punch to report that once place is…  Santa Cruz.  I’m so proud.

Lately he spends a lot of time telling us about “his work.”

“Mama, I need to get my jet shoes.  I forgot them at my work.”

“Where’s your work?”

“In Santa Cruz.”

His work also has a fire pole, big jet, horses, a broken computer, and all kinds of good food.  If I didn’t know better, I’d think maybe Jake’s landed a job at Google?

Last week Natesy turned a corner.  Literally.  One minute he was alone in the bathroom, and the next minute I heard him in Jake’s room with his daddy and his big brother.

Nathaniel has never liked being alone.  He wants to be where the action’s at.  And now he doesn’t have to complain about his station in life.  He’s tasted freedom.  And he’s not going back.

Now you can find Nate pulling himself around the house, dragging his little legs behind him… a path of destruction in his wake.  Last weekend I put him on the floor of the dining room while I did a little catch-up work on the computer.  I turned around and he had plundered the paper recycling bag, pillaged the Tupperware drawer and opened a cupboard door to begin rifling through untold baking treasures.

Our new favorite game is for Jakey and me to be in one room and then Jacob to report on Nate’s location and progress.  “Mama, Baby Nake is coming!”  We scream and giggle as we hear him inching down the hall.  Then his little fist comes into view around the door frame.  “Mama, I see Baby’ Nake’s hand!”  Then Nate peaks his head around the jamb and grins… his big two-toothed smile.

Arrr, there’s me mateys.

I’m happy to report, with quite a sense of relief I might add, that Jake is not color blind.

It’s been touch and go for almost two years.  His father is a graphic communication major who once aced a test where he had to put 98 colors in the correct order… yes, I know, a husband who can easily articulate the difference between cyan and turquoise?  Don’t be jealous.  And of course I’m a girl so somewhere along the way I was conditioned to learn the fine nuances of color.  But, from the age of one to two, when asked what color something was, Jacob only answered “Green!”  We were a tad bit worried.

Then, over the course of several months, when asked what flavor ice cream, cupcake, cookie he wanted, he switched from green to “Pink!”  He still either orders pink or chocolate.  Then one week, not so long ago, he added white and brown to his daily vocab.

“Mama, you’re brown.”  Given my pastiness, I was back to thinking maybe he was color blind.  Pink, brown and white.  I’d expect a little boy to point out blue, red and yellow as his first colors, but we’ll take it.

Finally, over the last few weeks, his color recognition has skyrocketed.  “Look Mama.  That fire engine is red like your shirt.  Mama, that pumpkin is orange.  I see a fire hydrant.  It’s white!”

We put him to the ultimate test earlier this week.  No, it’s not an official color blind test, it’s more of a candy blind test.  After dinner he gets to pick one piece of his Halloween candy.  Every night he chooses the little pack of M&M’s.  “OK, Jakey, now before you eat them, you have to put them in little piles by color.”

Without fail, he sorts them into brown, red, green, blue, orange and yellow.  If he grows-up and his clothes don’t match, at least we’ll know it’s just a lack of style.