Madeline Madness

Trains have been replaced as Jack's favorite play activity and topic of conversation. We have moved on (and backward) to Madeline. I'm thrilled to have something to talk about other than tenders and smokestacks and roundhouses, although our current repertoire of storylines is still a bit limited and starting to get somewhat tired. Until he starts remembering all the plots of the stories, which we've just started reading again, the favorite by far is pretending to fall off a bridge into the river. At least 20 times a day, Jack informs me that he's on a bridge, saying, "I'm not being careful..." to which I'm supposed to respond, "Oh, no, Madeline, don't fall in the river!" Jack then dives to the floor, yelling, "Splash!" One of us has to find his stuffed dog to play Genevieve and drag him to the shore, whereupon I (Miss Clavel) give him a big hug and tell him how glad I am that he's okay.

In the second favored place is the play in which Jack groans in bed, I proclaim, "Something is not right!" and we "drive" (I carry) Jack quickly to the "hospital" (downstairs couch) where he gets a full checkup with his doctor's kit and has his appendix removed.

I knew this was not just a passing fad when, after the first day of Madeline play, Jack woke up twice during the night and instead of calling out "Momma," summoned me by yelling for "Miss Clavel." Requests for Ben are even more complex as Jack has dubbed him Pepito, who is the son of the Spanish Ambassador who lives next door. So when calling for Ben, even during the middle of the night, Jack asks for "Daddy Pepito son of the Spanish Ambassador."

He has, however, started a couple of irresistible bedtime rituals that melt my heart. He knows this and exploits it to full advantage. First, he has ingeniously replaced goodnight kisses (which he started refusing a week or so, to much protest and sneaking of kisses from me) with nuzzles, which he very freely gives. He rubs noses, although he moves his head so quickly that's it's generally better for the recipient to just stay still and wait to the nuzzle to come. Second, instead of accepting going straight to bed after his goodnight lullaby, as soon as we start to leave, Jack says, "Momma, will you stay wit me?" That request is quickly followed by, "Talk about our day," which leads to a quick recap of the events of our day. It has become my favorite 10 minutes of the day.

I have to say that I greatly prefer this to his previous routine of falling asleep on the floor in his doorway. Every night for about two months we had to put him back in bed before we went to bed ourselves.

Engineer Jack

A few weeks ago, our Parents as Teachers parent educator asked Jack what he was going to be for Halloween. Although we hadn't talked about it yet, I had been planning on making him a really cute chicken costume that I had seen in a magazine. Nope. Jack immediately responded that he was going to be a Little Blue Engine. I gulped. I can sew decently, but something like that would be beyond my sewing prowess. Then I briefly envisioned a painted microwave box for Jack to wear around his torso. That sounded even more daunting, because if my sewing skills are basic, my painting skills are non-existent. And I was absolutely not going to purchase a Thomas the Tank Engine costume--I loathe Thomas (apparently I'm not the only one, though I hate him for other reasons as well). So I decided to do what any other sane mother would do when faced with an impossible costume request. Nothing.

Score one (or is it about 10 million in my lifetime by now?) for procrastination. While we were visiting my parents week before last, Jack fell in love with an engineer's cap my brother had picked up on vacation while I was in high school. Jack, not normally one to wear hats, wore that one nonstop. A quick trip to Farm and Home (yes, Warrensburg has a store called Farm and Home, and it's chock full of John Deere stuff, Carhartts, and, more importantly, overalls in all sizes and styles), and a peek through old dress up clothes to find a handkerchief and we were all set.

And so I present Engineer Jack:

Note that the smudges on his face are not just normal two-year-old messy face; we made a special trip to the organic potting soil bag for that "just shoveled a pile of coal into the steam engine" look.

At the end of the night, we took this little video of Jack Trick or Treating our house. Sorry for the sideways-ness--can never seem to remember which way is upright, and YouTube, unlike the now defunct Google Video, doesn't seem to allow switching frame orientation. I also have to clarify that although Jack was an engineer, not a conductor (there is a difference, and normally Jack, over-educated in the field of train travel as he is, would be the first to explain it), all the adults who saw his costume asked him if he was a conductor. By the end of the night he had given up and was even calling himself a conductor. Too bad, especially because the way he says "eng-i-neeo" is even cuter than the way he says, "con-do-tor."

Baby update: I'm 15 weeks pregnant now and fully into maternity wear. The baby is now about the size of an orange and is kicking away like crazy. At my 8 week ultrasound s/he was already moving enough to impress my OB, and for the past few weeks the movements have been strong enough for me to feel, even though it's still abnormally early for that. In about a month we'll have the big ultrasound when we'll find out the baby's gender and blessedly be able to refer to the baby as either "he" or "she" instead of "it" and soon after to have a name other than the undignified "Baby #2" or "the baby."

Telling Time

Jack today, pretending to answer the phone:

Yeth, we can do dat. Otay, Nonna and Pops, you will be 'ere at thirty o'clock? Atter bedtime? Otay. Bye bye.

Halloween post of the train engineer tomorrow.

Combatting Commercial Influences Already

Jack and I had this conversation in the grocery store this morning:

Momma: Hmmmm... what kind of waffles should we get, Jack?

Jack: I wan de Cookie Monster ones.

Momma: Seriously? That's already starting? How old are you?

Jack: I am two, Momma! (as if I had asked him the silliest, most obvious question ever)

Momma: (before looking at the nutritional information and content) Honey, I'm not sure that the Cookie Monster ones would taste very good. You might not like them, even though they have Cookie Monster on the box.

Jack: Dey will! De Cookie Monster wattles WILL taste yumdee.

Momma: (with relief, discovering that Sesame Street has at least some scruples about what foods it associates itself with, as the first ingredient is whole wheat, there's no corn syrup, the preservatives are minimal, and it's even organic) You know what, these are a good for you green light food. Let's get them.

Jack: (very seriously, as if I had just learned something very important from him) Yeth. Dey will taste yumdee. An dey are a greee ligh foo.

I felt vaguely as if I was in a PBS TV ad.

And I made a note to myself to remember The Campaign for a Commercial Free Childhood in our annual end of the year giving.

As a side note, pressure from that organization, the CCFC, has led to Disney offering full refunds to anyone who has bought a Baby Einstein DVD in the past 5 years. A few years ago the CCFC filed an FTC complaint that led to Disney withdrawing their (completely unscientific) claims that their DVDs were "educational" for babies, and this is just a further, but incredibly impressive, extension of that admission. Turns out studies now show that though educational TV can be helpful (in some environments, very helpful) to development in preschoolers, any screen media time (including so-called educational DVDs for babies) is actually harmful to infant and toddler development. Plus they're mind numbingly boring--the Baby Einstein videos are just strings of 5 second clips of toys and household objects in motion, things most babies would see and be interested in in real life but not in 2D on a screen. The American Association of Pediatrics recommends no TV time at all for children under two, yet American infants (children under 12 months) watch an average of an hour of TV a day. Check the first CCFC link for information on how to return DVDs.

Exciting Explanations

So I've been off blogging for a while. And a big part of it is because of some very exciting news:

We're having a baby!!!

Baby #2 is due April 25--not quite two weeks after Jack's third birthday and a mere 3 days after Ben turns 30. April will be a busy month.

So for those who are counting weeks, that means I'm 12 weeks pregnant already. Into the second trimester (thank goodness!), and past the worst fatigue and nausea, although that was even easier than last time. I know it's probably silly to keep such good news quiet for so long, but I've been struck recently by anecdotal reminders that up to 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage. A friend of mine miscarried at 11 weeks, a neighbor discovered an ectopic pregnancy at 6 weeks, and an old high school friend miscarried at 9 weeks, all three of those happening in the two months since we found out our baby is on the way. In thinking about how hard it must be for those couples to have to repeatedly retract all the happy announcements they had made, we decided only to tell those people we would talk with if I had a miscarriage.

Difficult, though, to blog about other things when the joy of the new baby pervaded every communication I've deemed worthy of blogging. Well, that and the fact that I haven't had much time for blogging as I've done practically nothing for the past two months except eat and sleep. The cleanliness (or rather lack of) of our house is a huge testament to that. Already up 10 pounds and starting to be forced into maternity wear, although a few (very kind or very visually challenged) friends say they can't tell yet. I'm just starting to give up needing to nap every second Jack does.

But after a second OB appointment today, I'm fairly confident saying this pregnancy is going very well and risks for something life-threatening happening to the baby are way, way down. The heartbeat was strong today, and all my bloodwork came back within normal ranges. Amazingly, I'm also fairly certain I've already started feeling the baby move. All the pregnancy books say most women start feeling movement around 16-20 weeks, which makes me sound completely nuts. But a few nights ago the kicks got so intense that I insisted Ben put his hand on my belly. His very skeptical look (if I'm not supposed to be feeling it internally yet, how on earth would he externally?) quickly changed to one of awe. I'm thinking that was corroboration.

Jack seems to have taken my lethargy and moodiness mostly in stride, and for that I credit in large part Richard Trevethick, inventor of the first steam locomotive. Since summer, what began as Jack's strong interest in trains has become a complete obsession for him. We long ago finished reading through every train book in the Brentwood and University City libraries, including those written on 3rd grade+ reading levels, the kind that explain the function of every single part of the train. And yet, every time we go to a library or bookstore or friend's house or even the grocery store (you think I'm kidding), Jack says, "Maydee dey will had a good train book dere. We'll see!" The train set has taken up permanent residence on our living room floor and provides a good 2 hours of entertainment for us almost every day.

He, of course, doesn't quite get all the implications of my pregnancy yet. He's given the baby a few kisses. He understood today that we were going to the doctor to see if the baby was okay. He heard the heartbeat going "ka-bump, ka-bump, ka-bump" and asked, "Is that the baby?" But the bump isn't really there yet, and even when it is, it's still a far jump from that to "We're going to have a new person in our house forever now." Fortunately a good friend of mine, whose son is a few weeks older than Jack is due with her second baby six weeks before me. Yeah, if you're charting that on a calendar, that's new baby for them (2 weeks), Jack's friend's birthday (2 weeks), Jack's birthday (2 weeks), new baby for us. I foresee some slap-dash third birthday parties in our future, accompanied by prayers of, "Please, please, please don't let the baby's first entrance disrupt with his/her big brother's birthday celebration!" I don't envision that being a good start to a smooth sibling relationship.

Also heard over the past few days: this entire sentence from Jack, "Momma, I would like to listen to the Goodbye music on your computer while I am eating my pizza at the table." I think he's mastered the English language.

In another development from this week that normally would warrant its own banner headline post, but is, in light of other news, a mere postscript, Jack may have given up his bah-bah for good! Two nights and two naps without one, and all without tears! And it definitely wasn't Jack's idea to give it up--it was all me and I didn't ask for his input or warn him ahead of time. Kind of out of character with my normal parenting style, but in this particular situation it appears to have worked well for all involved. Yet another reason to take some, leave some of every parenting manual's suggestions. Even those I consider nothing short of child abuse (Gina Ford, Babywise) at least have at base (an incredibly warped view of) the idea that some form of structure/routine is good for the sanity of parent and child.

The reason for my drastic bah-bah zero tolerance policy? A ballooning three-binky-at-a-time habit complete with color preference request lists ("I need a pink bah-bah and a boo bah-bah and a yeddow bah-bah!" He had also started to blur the bed-only boundaries, which caused me to have to say upwards of 50 times a day, "I can't understand you with your bah-bah in your mouth. You need to take it out of your mouth. All the way out. Good. Now can you say that again?" The entire series every time got a little old, and I was really starting to fear for Jack's speech development. Fingers crossed this isn't just a false blip of hope like early potty training success appears to have been...