About the Boy

Tire Horse

Who thinks of these things? Hilarious.

Tire Maze

Will and Henry took a break from winding their way through the tractor tire maze.

 

Perfect Fall Day

Lots of pictures from Sunday, but let's just say that we got into the holiday spirit. That's Will's pal Henry peeking over his shoulder on the left.

Last Day at the Park

Piano Man and Mom

Role Play

A lot of our games these days boil down to pretending to be animals. "You be loyin, and I'll be shark!" What we do when we're animals usually involves reuniting babies with their mommies or daddies or, for a few days last week, trying to eat each other. But usually, what we do is less important than who we are. Will spends most of the time figuring out which animal Nicole or I will be, often assigning us an animal he later decides he wants to be. The role-playing also generally involves moving around little animal figures, of which he has soooo many. There's a lot of handing over and back of plastic cheetahs or open-mouthed hippos or kangaroos as we sort it out.

But occasionally we ditch the figurines and just become the animal. Like our friend the tiger, here:

First Snow

Progress. Last year, if a flake landed on him he burst into tears. This year, he was dazzled, watching it fall all around him.

Hangin' with Horton

Lion Roar and Lion, Post-snack

Once the tail was in the proper place, it was easy for Will to fall into character.

And, of course, the lion had to go to his cave. And after eating a chipmunk all that was left was its acorn.

Slowing Down

Take 2 of the lion costume is coming soon. First, I wanted to share something from a short story I read last night. The last time I read the story was years before Will was born. I remember being struck by the quality of the writing, but was unmoved by the quality of the afternoon that Lewis spends with the toddler Caroline. Now, I'm more envious of the pace than I am of the writing. The challenge of parenting these days is forcing myself to move at the speed of a toddler. I'm learning and re-learning this all the time.

From Kevin Brockmeier's "These Hands":

Lewis planted Caroline on her feet and, taking her by the hand, walked with her to the playground. A framework of chutes and tiered platforms sat in a bed of sand and gravel, and they climbed a net of ropes into its gallery. A steering wheel was bolted to a crossbeam at the forward deck, and when Caroline spun it, they beeped like horns and whoaed from side to side. They snapped clots of sand from a handrail. They ran across a step-bridge swaying on its chains. A broad gleaming slide descended from a wooden shelf, its ramp speckled iwth dents and abrasions, and ascending a ladder to its peak, they swooped to the earth. They jumped from a bench onto an old brown stump and climbed a hill of painted rubber tires. They wheeled in slow circles on a merry-go-round, watching the world drift away and return--slide tree parking lot, slide tree parking lot--until their heads felt dizzy and bouyant, like the hollow metal globes that quiver atop radio antennas. Beside a bike rack and a fire hydrant, they discovered the calm blue mirror of a puddle; when Lewis breached it with a stone, they watched themselves pulse across the surface, wavering into pure geometry. A spray of white clouds hovered against the sky, and an airplane drifted through them with a respiratory hush. "Look," said Lewis, and Caroline followed the line of his finger. Behind the airplane were two white condensation trails, cloven with blue sky, that flared and dwindled like the afterlight of a sparkler. Watching, Lewis was seized with a sudden and inexplicable sense of presence, as if weeks and miles of surrounding time and space had contracted around this place, this moment. "My God," he said, and filled his lungs with the rusty autumn air. "Look what we can do."

Halloween Costume, Take 1

A Passenger, This Time

Last week, Will and I were on our own for dinner so I thought we'd go the Children's Museum at the mall and check out the new aviation exhibit. While we were there, I figured we could get dinner and maybe some new shoes, since the Panda/Zebra Sandals weren't going to be that warm for much longer.

When we got to the museum, I saw a bunch of adults standing around in business wear. First warning sign. When we walked in, a rep approached us. "Were you guys here to tour the museum?" No, my toddler and I are here to mingle. "Yeah, are you guys closed for a private thing?" They were. She apologized to me. "Don't tell me, tell him," I nodded to a confused-looking Will.

I knelt down. "Buddy, I'm really sorry. The museum's closed." His eyes narrowed. "We'll have to come back another time." The rep handed a Will a token bag with a disassembled airplane and a bag of pretzels inside. Cute. I thanked her. "Can we see the turtle?" Will asked. I looked up at the rep from my kneel. "Do you mind? He really wanted to show the turtle his gorilla tattoo." Pause. "Don't ask." She smiled and waved us over to the museum lobby's tank.

After a moment or two of laughing at the turtle's webbed feet, Will wanted his pretzels. And to ride the carousel. And, strangely, to get new shoes. Once we finished the pretzels and some crappy mall food court spaghetti and meatballs, it was on to the rides. Will rode the cat with a fish in his mouth on the carousel. I rode a horse. Then he spotted the individual motorized rides.

We ended up having a pretty good time, anyway. Even took a move tie-in friend for a ride.

Wide Line Between Fiction and Reality

Will could read about Elmo going on the potty all day. Especially when it uses the second-person point of view and Will's name. But he's still not so interested in going on it himself. Thanks for the book though, Great-Grandma!

Reflecting

The one semi-science-y thing that Will dug at the science museum was the Hall of Mirrors. Thankfully, he avoided the creepy clowns around the corner.

The Heart Wants What It Wants

Over Labor Day, we visited Chicago's Museum of Science and Industry. What did Will spend most of his time doing? Crawling over rocks containing "uranium" and calling himself a mountain goat. Then crawling all over this cow in the Farm Science exhibit.

Duo, Part 2

Harder to get him to pose for pictures these days. Still, look at these beautiful people. (Not the lizard.)

Duo

Thanks to Nicole for the picture. It's so much easier to dump the stroller in favor of the shoulders.

Driver, Surprise Me

Close Up

Tryin' Real Hard, Ringo.

The gecko, not the camera

What holds Will's interest.

Summer's Over

Our Lady of Perpetual Smirks here welcomes you to the fall and to a more regular posting schedule.

"Wanna read it myself."

Overdue Easter snap

More lunch

A piece of macaroni flew out of his mouth.

And then he ate it.

Sunday lunch

After church (I know, right?) on Sunday we all went over to a noodle place where Will had been known to actually eat. This time he slammed some gourmet mac-n-cheese instead of meatballs. Why is this noteworthy? You haven't eaten with our baby bird if you have to ask.

My Valentines

Fork shmork. It's his birthday party.

"You don't see Rhino or Giraffe using utensils to eat, do you?"

I love that he brought his friends to the party. They didn't get any cake, though.

A Visual Metaphor

What Will's second birthday has looked and felt like.

Two

The only way to get him to hold still for a picture is to show him something. In this case, "The Iguana Song."

Happy Birthday, Will.

Mouth

"Will, come to the table for breakfast."

(Will is unpacking a box of puzzle pieces.)
"No, I busy."
(Back to the box.)

Christmas Eve

Thanks to Grandma Stacey for the picture. Notice the lined-up animal platoon while Will plays with the ice-skating snowman.

Xmas Eve Eve

Will got his first round of presents the night before we all went to Waterloo. After a dinner of chicken noodle soup, Will had one of his fastest baths ever. Usually he likes to linger. Instead he wanted out right away because PRESENTS were waiting. With each one he opened, he'd turn his head to the side and ask, "What's this?" Carefully peeling back the paper, he'd start talking even before he figured out what it was: "Oh, no! Oh, man!"

Sometimes I think that he's got Nicole and I figured out and that he knows just what to say and do that will melt us. No one is this legitimately cute.

Will and Friends

Now that he's posing for pictures, Will's also started to compose pictures. He's always liked sitting on the couch with his bears, but last night he asked to have pictures taken with his "friends." The hardest part was getting him to turn around the cardboard elephant (clipped from an animal crackers box--he sleeps with it) so the camera could see it. The owl with magnets in its wingtips fell off his shoulder into his lap in the process.

The night before, he wanted me in the shot with him. Believe me, I was honored.

Santa Visit

Friday night after work, we got Will dressed up to see Santa. We showed him Santa's picture and asked him what he thought of Santa. "Scary," he said. "No," we said. "He's nice. He loves children and wants to make children happy." Will seemed convinced. We asked him what he was going to ask from Santa as a gift. He thought about it. "Puzzle!" he announced.

We talked about it all the way to the mall.

We talked about it all through the dinner we had to eat because Santa wouldn't be back for an hour.

We talked about it in line. Will was excited in line, running around, checking out the big tree.

Then we came around the corner and Will saw what "visiting Santa" was all about. Parents with cameras slung around their necks, holding video cameras, and barking orders. A pushy elf trying to herd families through quickly. A child perched on the lap of a man covered in red and mountains of white hair. The kid blinded by flash after flash. High-pressure chaos.

It was our turn. Santa waved us over, the elf got behind the giant camera.

Will froze. Nicole and I each took a hand and told him that it was OK. Which, at this point, he's got to believe that that phrase means exactly the opposite. If he hears it, everything is NOT OK.

Nicole picked him up while I got our camera ready. He buried his head in her coat. No way was he sitting on Santa's lap. Actually, what he said was, "Noooooooooo." And clung more tightly.

No professional picture was going to happen. No conversation about puzzles. Instead Santa handed him an advertisement for a movie and a coupon for a store in the mall. (I have serious issues with that.) And the elf pushed us aside.

We went to the playground and Will burned off a lot of his nervous energy. This, he understood. The familiar and the actual kid-friendly. And who can blame him?

A Rich Image

Lots to be discussed here. I always feel like these pictures reveal so much of our lives beyond just a cute shot of Will. But mostly the picture reveals who Will is. The boy who refused to have his "pony head" taken out before bed is now eating cold cereal that comes from a box with pandas on it that needs to be at the table with milk that runs down his chin with each bite while he eats from it along with the snakes (and one "eel") he took to bed last night in his train pajamas under a Van Gogh and in front of a cookbook open to a page explaining how to hold chopsticks along with a recipe for sukiyaki, which is an actual dish and not just a combination of sounds used for stereotyping Asian food.

Anyway, yeah, the boy:

The First Posed Picture

I told him this morning, "Go stand over there and I'll take your picture." (in his too-small pajamas with skulls and crossbones on them) He immediately ran over after and demanded to see himself.

A long way from the kid in the picture over his shoulder. That kid was, what, 10 months old? That was a baby. We've got a little boy now.

C Is for Cookie

Pardon the crappy mobile pic. Nicole and Will made cookies yesterday. He was very proud to have helped. And while eating the second one of the day after dinner, I reminded him of Cookie Monster's song, which he began singing. First to his mother, then to other things in view: "Cookie, cookie, starts with 'C,' Water. Cookie, cookie, starts with 'C,' Alice. Cookie, cookie, starts with 'C,' Zebra."

Sophistication

Will's begun building a world that is more complicated. You've seen the arrangements and the organization, but now he's starting to build narratives: instead of just lists of nouns, he's creating noun-verb-object.

For example: Animals Wear Hats.

A picture of which he needed to see immediately.

Making Arrangements

It's safe to say that Will's got some hard times ahead. He did this.

And if he wants to do this to his animal army, what's he going to want to do at recess? Or when a teacher's instructions don't take into account the fact that he is physically incapable of ripping a sheet out of a spiral because he can't stand the frayed edges? (Not that I'm speaking from experience.) The world is not always going to bend to your need for order, Will. I'm sorry you'll want it to.

 

Yes, that's a framed picture of a sultry Leon in the background.

Dragon with Bears

Couple things to note here. One: Will's hair is done in a style he likes to call "pony head," that he regularly begs for at daycare. Two: One of Will's socks went missing at daycare, so we had to come home in a spare sock. Fortunately, that sock's mate went missing last summer (toddlers are very interested in everyone else's cubbies) and the remainder was still available.

Also, Will the Dragon insisted on having his picture taken with the bears. A regular occurrence.

More Dragon

I, Dragon

Early last week I picked up Will from daycare and he came running to the door wearing this. An older friend's Halloween costume from the previous year. We were loaned it, but Will was just a little too tall for it, so we went with the penguin costume you see a few posts down. That didn't stop Will from insisting to Nicole that he needed to be a dragon for a couple days last week. Why not? He loved it, the other kids loved pulling his tail, and he got to roar a lot. He likes roaring.

More Summer Pining

Summer

I already miss it.

Happy Halloween

This year? A penguin.

And some time passed.

And then Will took some gymnastics classes.

Aardvark to Zebra

Spud