Why we want to live on 1 floor

I've been compiling a brief index lately of Jamie's many reasons for calling us down to his room. Here's a look:

Air, not on.
Air, on.
Air, making my hand float (he was 90% asleep for that one).
Dark, not enough
Dark, too much
Door, not open enough
Door, too open
Door knob, scaring me (now visible since Connor's crib was moved. Jamie's solution: move crib back, just without Connor).
Itchies, on bottom
Itchies, on face
Itchies, on hands
Itchies, on unknown body part, but very bad
Music, not loud enough.
Sniffies, I have them (often caused by crying about something previous, thus an excellent cause for a second visit).
Something scary, I heard it.
Something scary, I saw it.
Temperature, too cold
Temperature, too hot
Umm...ummm...ummm....something.
Water, needed
Water, spilled on pajamas
Woobie, lost.

Marvin the King

On Monday evening I was getting Jamie ready for bed, and only half-listening to the steady stream of information that comes out of Jamie's mouth all the time when I caught the words "and he was shot and killed." This got my attention and I said, What Jamie. He replied, "He was shot and killed Dad." Slightly alarmed, I asked if this was something he had heard at school. Yes, he said. Well I dont like that very much Jamie, I told him, that's not a nice thing to talk about. He said, well Ms. Belle (his teacher) told us that Marvin the King was shot and killed and today is his birthday. All was clear. Martin Luther King, you mean Jamie? Yeah, he said, and Marvin the King told us "No Fighting!"

Night-night!

As previously noted, Connor has his sleep issues. In fact, as I write this at 6:30 AM he is snoring away on the couch downstairs, having woken at 4:30, SCREAMING with indignation at being in his crib. He seems to like the couch, however, and has now stretched out across it and gone happily back to sleep, sending me to the kitchen counter.

But one thing he has been consistently easier with than Jamie is GOING to sleep (knock wood). He actually seems aware of the desire to go to bed, something which Jamie, to this day, has almost never felt, or at least admitted to. He no longer drinks milk before bed time but we've established a very clear routine, which he likes. Having given "night-night" kisses to everyone (try and cheat him of this at your peril), we head upstairs (yes to our room still). He closes the office door and bathroom door and then marches over to the chair, gets it in and grabs "Goodnight Moon" expectantly. Connor, I should explain, has been difficult to read to from very early on. He gets impatient with the book and begins trying to quickly turn the pages, close the book, throw it, or simply beat it. But "Goodnight Moon" he loves, no doubt in part for its focus on his favorite orbiting sphere, but he also sings with excitement about the red balloon, the young mouse, the stars, etc. Upon finishing the book he loudly proclaims "Na-na" (night-night) and often points at the crib. Usually that's the last we hear from him for a few hours. There are occasionally wake-ups, with attendant screams of indignation, but we've learned that these tend to peter out in a couple of minutes, during the first part of the night, at least.

Questions (and answers?)

Jamie's curiosity about the world is truly all-encompassing. No topic is too big or small to attract his attention at one time or another. One really has to be prepared at any time for searching, metaphysical queries like "Why we can't hear God?" At the same time we must always be ready to closely inspect and comment upon a small piece of lint perched on top of Jamie's finger. Other questions can be rather confounding. He asked me in the bath, just last night: "Why isn't water made of concrete?" There is also of course the seemingly obvious question that must be asked, and, of course must be answered: "Did I go to school today?"

Still other times one expects the philosophical and gets the mundane. Sarah and Jamie were reading books snuggled up in his bed the other night and he looked at her and said, "Mom?" Thinking some great question or statement of love was to follow, all she got was "When is it going to be December?"

Isn't it wovewy?

When Kant discusses beauty he reserves the term exclusively for things which have no obvious function or benefit to us, but which nonetheless please us simply for what they are. I think Jamie discovered the concept in an unexpected location this weekend.

On Saturday night, with Sarah still away, I took the boys to Chuck-E-Cheese. Was it stupidity? Generosity to Jamie, who had been a good boy all day? Masochism? I guess a bit of all of that made me do it. So off we went. It was about as terrible as you would expect and the boys loved it. Connor wants to do everything and can do nothing. He wants to climb on the mini-carousel, but then cries when it moves. My favorite moment was when it was already moving and he started chasing the empty horse around, crying the whole time.

Anyway, Jamie won a few tickets from the games, which can be redeemed for tacky prizes. Jamie spied a brightly colored spinning top that he wanted and even though we didn't really have enough tickets they gave it to us. Jamie was very pleased and gazed adoringly at it, saying over and over on the way out to the car how much he loved it. "Can we put it in the bath?" he asked, and was thrilled to hear that we could. About halfway home, he finally asked me: "What is it?"

Mushy and well-spoken

Jamie has always been an affectionate little guy, and Mommy's absence really brings out the inner mushiness. I was putting his shorts on today and he said, "Wait, Dad, I have to do something to ya," and gave me a big hug, squeezing as hard as he could. "That was the biggest hug EVER he said." Yes, I said. "Keep it forever Dad, because I will love you forever and ever and ever." Then he thought for a minute and said, "Mommy might like such a hug when she comes home." She just might, I replied.

Jamie doesn't spell

Last night, I was picking the boys up from school and taking them to get pizza, a little tradition we have when Sarah is away, as she is this weekend. When I went in to the classroom to pick up Connor he was having his diaper changed and I heard his teacher assuring him "Don't worry, you'll get more," meaning that he had had to break away from a snack for the diaper. She put him down and he saw me and began his usual excited toddle over to me, arms extended. Very cute. But he got about a foot away from me and his expression changed and he did an immediate about-face back to the teacher. He had remembered, of course, the promise of more snacks, marshmallows as it turned out. Let's me know where I stand.

Things went downhill from here as I gave a couple of the marshmallows to Jamie just as Connor put the last fistful in his mouth. He took one look at the empty cup and began SCREAMING. Off we went to get pizza with Connor still angry. He started to calm down but than began repeating "wuhh, wuhh, wuhhh, wuuhhh," with increasing desperation, meaning he wanted his woobie, something I couldn't provide, there being a woobie at home and one at school. Jamie began telling me this, saying the word woobie over and over again, increasing Connor's alarm. I changed the subject to fire trucks, getting Connor to say "woo-woo-woo" as he does now, only to have Jamie bring woobies up again. Now, like many parents since time immemorial, Sarah and I are in the habit of spelling words out to each other that the boys shouldn't hear for one reason or another. So I found myself, having changed the subject again trying to tell Jamie not to mention the W-O-O-B-I-E again. He looked at me, confused, and said, in the particular way he has, "WOT?" I tried to explain but before I could finish, he said, "Dad I think Connor wants his woobie!" And off we went again.

To the moon Alice!

One word I forgot to mention among Connor's new repertoire is "moon". He really gets into it, giving it a full "mooooon" (He's not booing he's saying Mooooon!). There is a train book he likes to read that features a crescent moon on two pages. Now when we read it, he gives the train only passing attention (he knows this word too "chooo-choo") and starts saying mooooon, several pages before we get there.

Jamie's been very into space lately as well so we took them to SpaceCenter Houston for the first time the other day. They both enjoyed it very much though in different and rather unpredictable ways. There is a massive jungle gym there and an area with many many hand-sized balls. This was a favorite for both. We took the tram tour of the NASA campus and went to historic Mission Control, which was great. We were sitting with a tour group in chairs while they made a presentation about the Apollo space program. They were flashing a few pictures on the screens and showed some of the famous pictures of Armstrong and Aldrin on the moon. At which point, Connor, recognizing the moon I don't know how, loudly proclaims, "MOOOON!" He didn't seem to get enough of a reaction from the room so repeated several times "MOOOOOON!!!!"