A warning or a promise of great things to come?

Yesterday at dinnertime Sam referred to his popsicle as "tastylicious." Susan and I just stared at him. Then the indictment: Susan asked where he learned that word, and he said "Daddy said it!"

I don't remember ever saying that word, but then my short term memory's not what I think it used to be.

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Definitely shows signs of Episcopal heritage: This morning Sam generously gave me one of his fruity cheerios during breakfast. Then he said, "We forgot to say 'cheers'!" So he gave me another and we clinked them together and said cheers.

A Three-year-old's Understanding of Lent

This is Susan, signed in as Tim. Here's today's conversation in the van on the way home from Montessori:

Me: "Do you know what today is? Today is Ash Wednesday. It's the first day of Lent. Lent is a church season during which we think a lot about how Jesus died on the cross for us. It's called Lent."
Sam: "Are we going to go there?"
Me: (floundering momentarily...) "Well, it's not a place to go...we just spend a lot of time in Lent thinking about how Jesus died for us on the cross."
Sam: "I don't want to die."
Me: "None of us wants to die. But Jesus was willing to die for us."
Sam: "He liked dying?"
Me: "No, it was very hard. But he loved us so much he died for us anyway. Wasn't that nice?" [wincing at my own words, because "nice" doesn't cover it!] "And it all leads up to Easter, which is very exciting because Easter is when Jesus rose from the dead! He became alive again!"
Sam: "What happens next?"
Me: [thinking...lots happens next! The book of Acts, for one thing, and eventually, the second coming, but that's not what he means... before I can answer, Sam goes on.]
Sam: "Do we do Halloween then?"

So, back on familiar footing...how is it that, without being the least bit theologically sophisticated, Sam manages to ask questions I can't answer?

Vacation Fun

Spent a week in Columbus. The post below is pretty scattered--only 2.5 hours of sleep due to a 2-a.m. inhaler treatment and ensuing insomnia. You've been warned.

Columbus may not seem like much of an improvement over Rochester in February, but it is. For one thing, their ground isn't covered with snow! That alone made it feel like spring's just around the corner.

Stayed with Sam's Grandad Collins and Nana, got to see much of Aunt Amy, and even Unca Stu, Aunt Sue and cousins Kevin and Emily. Everyone was so great playing with Sam! You can see Sam, at left, just hanging out. Sam also learned to love exploring the basement with flashlights--see Aunt Amy, below, preparing for an expedition.

Aunt Amy, Nana and Grandad took Sam to a local community center which has a pool with a zero-depth area, and also a "stream" with interior whirlpool (pictured below). While all agreed that Brookings' water park is even grander, this facility was a real hit--including the area where Sam was able to pull on a rope and dump water repeatedly on Aunt Amy's head. (No dunking seats, but I hear those are in the works. :-)

There was also a very large tube slide, which we told Sam he isn't old enough to go down. While leaving the community center he told me that when he's older he will go down it. Then he asked, poignantly, "When can I be older?"

Sam's verbal abilities continue to delight. The other day he was playing with two cars and narrating their interactions, when I overheard him say, "Uh-oh! That's a catastrophe!" He's also learned about rhymes, and frequently tries to find rhymes for words.

Recently Susan was watching Sam and his friend Ian. Ian saw Sam using a crazy straw and warned that Sam would spill. No fear, Sam's mastered the art of straw use, and Susan told Ian so. But she allowed that spilling wasn't the end of the world, and that even she has spilled a few times in her life. Sam, surprised, asked her, "In North America?" Uh, yes, I guess so!

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Sam's gotten to the Lego/Duplo-tower stage, and the group effort of Sam, his parents and his cousin Emily is shown below. Em, true to form, poured her heart into the construction effort.

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Last night I had Sam at the Fairport library. At one point he ran off, excited about checking out some videos. I called him back, but he ignored my commands, which earned him a time out. I explained to him sternly that he needed to learn to stop when I told him to, and that if he didn't , he might get hit by a car, or snatched, or even fall in a hole. Sam, a little confused by my reasoning, said, "But there aren't any holes in the library!" I'll just be happy that he's hearing what I am saying...

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Another image--Sam wearing Emily's glassless spectacles, newly painted pink for Valentine's Day. While I am not a gender-parity purist, I can't see preventing Sam from enjoying pink, which he has called his favorite color. (Though this morning when Max pointed out the blue sky Sam said that was his favorite color... and then added orange, red, green and yellow as favorite colors.) Susan tells me that in Victorian times blue was the color for girls, and pink for boys. Pink was considered too vigorous for girls.

Glasses were a theme that day. We also passed around a pair of Emily's glasses so we glassless people could look studious for once. Maybe the best was Sam's cousin Kevin, shown below. (Enjoy the angle, and the backdrop of the ceiling! Kevin's not short.)

One last image: Uncle Stu's amateur chiropractics!

New library!

Another fine weekend. Being new to the 'burbs we are still discovering things. This weekend we made a second trip to a local library which was new to us, in neighboring Fairport. The first thing Sam has to do in a library is find the videos and look through them with the delight of a collector first in line at an estate stale. Once that's accomplished, and I've convinced him once again he can only get two, not four or five, he comes out of his haze and we can start finding books and playing with whatever toys they have. At Fairport PL, they have a little puppet theater, where we had a lot of fun. Sam put on the dragon puppet and gleefully ate all puppets who greeted him. That is, until he decided we all needed to have a group hug.

The other night when we went there for the first time, Sam had picked out his video and was walking over to some couches to sit and admire it, when he noticed another, older boy sitting alone. Sam said to me, "I'm going to go over there," and he walked over quietly and placed himself on the couch next to this boy, and shyly looked over at him. The boy, being older and cooler, didn't react to Sam at all. Sam wasn't bothered--he'd made his effort.

The rest of the weekend was typical, including another trip to the Play Museum, where he spent the entire time in the Mr. Potato Head exhibit. I was able to discern that MPH, who I'd previously taken as an inert toy, in fact is an astronaut, archeologist, sea-ologist and snorkeler, and, as mentioned below, polynesian god. Sam had a very good time going through all the activities again.

Sam's old enough now to know that he hates Monday mornings. He was extra fussy this morning, resulting in various stern threats and grudging improvements in his behavior.

Once he was in the car, though, and resigned, he perked right up. He wanted to talk to Max, and chatted for a while about how tall the trees are on the main route out of Penfield. We talked about squirrels and how he likes them and wouldn't it be fun to be one who could live at the top of one of those trees. I asked him what he would have in his house if he were a squirrel up there, and he said, "friends."


I include this photo because it has nothing to do with Sam. Sat night he was with Sara Dill while we went out to a concert. When we were getting ready to go, rather than our having to sneak out so as not to upset him, he practically kicked us out, saying "Bye!"

It was a baroque chamber music concert in an actual chamber, and one which looked so English drawing-roomie that we kept expecting the Colonel to murder us with the pipe. (Thanks to Juli for suggesting this series!) It featured a baroque oboe, which like a normal oboe except for fewer keys, and you need to blow as if you're trying to squeeze a grapefruit through it. There was also the HUGEST LUTE KNOWN TO MAN. It's a 12-string Jurassic version called a "theorbo" (I'm not making this up) which seemed a little like a portable section of a harpsichord. The concert was a visit to the artistic stratosphere--afterward there was a reception with delicious little pastries and candies and wine. The concert was wonderful and a real treat for all, including Sam.

The Hardware Store

When I was young a trip to the hardware store was an exciting adventure. I would arrive and be turned loose, with the understanding that I shouldn't touch anything, or at least not be caught touching anything. I generally avoided adults, who looked at me suspiciously. (It was clear the hardware store was only for men with the HWS gene, and I was only permitted because my Dad carried the gene.) I enjoyed treading the wooden floors, which creaked reassuringly under foot.

These days a trip to the hardware store is a trip to Lowe's or, if I'm desperate, Home Depot. This is much closer in feel to a trip to Sam's Club. Now you wouldn't be surprised to see a large-screen TV in the hardware store. After all, it sells fridges with TVs built in.

Sam still appears to enjoy it just as much as I did when I was young. And he's gotten pretty good about accompanying me to find whatever I'm looking for, after which I usually let him wander a little and explore. This time he explored the Lawn & Garden Gazebo section (again, not something we had growing up), which was a month ago the Snow Globe and Electronically Animated Religion-Neutral Christmas Lawn Creature section.

While there we played hide & seek, a game which he gets the greatest delight in losing, so long as it's not right away. Saturday also had a trip to the sporting goods store. in my day I think this was called "Sears." Now it has huge escalators, colorful kayaks and plastic statues of buff young people in underwear. And Sam loves it as well, for the escalators, for the bouncy balls when he remembers they're there, and for the vast expanse of store.

Not much else this weekend. A trip to the library where Sam played musical instruments (again, the library in my day...), and to the Play Museum, where he got to see the new Mr. Potato Head exhibit. I had wondered how they would do that--after all, Mr. PH is really just the passive recipient of attention--he doesn't do anything. But they had him snorkeling, performing archaeology, exploring outer space, and at the very front of the exhibit, he appeared to be a Polynesian god (which is, btw, spudolotry). To Sam, though, the topic is irrelevant--the room is really a container for slides and toys and activities, and the theme's largely irrelevant. So--he had a good time.

Next week, for a change, maybe I'll take him outside. He hasn't seen that except in passing for quite some time.

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One more thing which is only going to be amusing to a naive first-time parent such as myself: Susan was chatting with me, in Sam's presence, about a woman she met. In doing so she said she didn't know this woman from Adam.

Sam interjected, "Who's Adam?"

Okay, yes, we've read him his picture Bible over and over, and I guess that part didn't stick. It was the perfection of the question, on the heels of Susan's remark, which I loved.