Nate Nate

One Place I Hadn't Thought To Look

Tonight, I couldn't find my [bad word] glasses.  I haven't been getting a lot of sleep lately, and my eyes are really tired, so right after I gave Nate a bath, I took out my contacts and reached for my glasses.  Which were not where they belong.

"Where are my glasses??" I mused, rummaging through my drawer.  "Where on earth could they be?"  Nate and Jonah, deep into a game on pbskids.org, ignored me.

Minutes passed.  Drawers were searched.  Items were tossed about the bathroom.  "Seriously, where are they???"  Books were tossed off my nightstand, papers were shuffled about my bureau, my finger was slammed in a drawer.  "[BAD WORD!!!]"  I raged.  "Argh!  That hurt!  And WHERE are my glasses???"

Nate ignored me.  Jonah ignored me.

Swearing under my breath, I stormed into the kitchen.  "Could Laura have moved them when she was cleaning this morning?  Should I call her?" I mused.  Bear in mind that since I had already taken out my contacts, I had the horrible dizziness that comes from trying to walk through life half-blind.  "I'd better call her.  WHERE on EARTH are my stupid GLASSES????"

From far down the hall came a little voice.  "Oops!  They're in my special drawer, Mommy!  Sorry!" cried Jonah.  I did not notice this; I was too busy shushing him.  "Not now, Jonah!  I'm looking for my glasses!"

"He says they're in his special drawer!" Steve added.

?

They were, in fact, in Jonah's special drawer, in his bureau in the closet of his bedroom.  "Jonah," I asked patiently, "why did you put my glasses in your special drawer?"

"Because I like to hide them!" he beamed.

No Baby, You Cannot Drive My Car, So Please Stop Asking

On the one hand, it's great to start learning the rules of the road and to be conscious of what it takes to be a good driver.  On the other hand, it's going to be a long 11 and 13 years, respectively, if these guys are going to continue to backseat drive at their current rate.  At some point, I must have explained about how we are allowed to turn right on red if no one's coming.  I don't know, I talk a lot, and there is usually a lot of dead air in the car, so sometimes I ramble on a bit.  I'm sure you can imagine.  Anyway, the guys are now obsessed with making sure that I am observing all rules of the road at all times.

"Mom, slow down!  This exit ramp is 45 miles per hour, maximum!"

"Mom, are we turning right here?  Because, we can turn right on red, you know.  Do you want to turn right?  You can go right now!"

[At 8:59 a.m.] "Mom, only 1 more minute until you can turn left here any time you want until 4 pm!"

"NO RIGHT TURN ON RED!!! NO RIGHT TURN ON RED!!  MOMMY, DO NOT TURN RIGHT ON RED!!!"  (That one was Jonah earlier today, and boy, has his reading gotten good).

"Mooooommmmmmmy, we're getting on the freeeeeeeeeway, time to drive faster!"

Honestly.  And they just never stop.  And considering that they are demanding to be taken to play miniature golf at least once per day lately, we have been putting considerable miles on the new minivan, schlepping all over the East Bay to try out various mini golf establishments, so there have been a lot of opportunities for backseat commentating.

Today we had an excellent round of mini golf with Nate's friend Milos, followed by a trip to the scariest park I have ever seen, by Berkeley's Rose Garden.  Apparently someone thought it would be a good idea to build a tremendously fast concrete slide into the side of a mountain and let kids whiz down it on little pieces of cardboard.  It looked pretty darned scary when we got there, but since the guys were dying to try it, I gamely grabbed some used boxes and hiked on up.  When we got there, I sat down, plunked both kids on my lap (Daddy was working today), and lowered us to the end of where I could hold on to the start rail, at which point I promptly chickened out.  I just couldn't do it.  Some other dad had to climb down a little below us and retrieve the kids from my lap, and thank Gd, because we might otherwise still be sitting there.  After that, Nate decided that his need to try out the super scary slide was sufficiently strong to overcome his fear, and he went for it all by himself.  He was gripping my fingers until he reached the same place at the end of the starting gate, at which point he asked sweetly, "Mommy, can you hold my hand while I go down?"  At which point I chose the coward's route.  "No, honey, sorry," I announced in front of a large crowd of parents waiting to accompany their children down the Slide of Terror.  "You'll have to go it alone."

And that's when I pried his fingers loose, sending him zooming down the mountain by himself.  Parent of the Year!

Don't worry, there was no lasting harm done by my gross betrayal.  Nate was thrilled, proud of himself, and eager to go again.  Luckily, little Jonah didn't want to try it alone, but Nate had a blast.  And then everyone played on the nice, safe, stationary train in the little kids' park.  Hooray! 

ETA: Putting Jonah to bed tonight, I was reminded of the other thing they do, which I guess I had already blocked out in part.  Yes, I recently took a wrong exit and spent a good twenty minutes navigating us back to where we were supposed to be, cursing myself bitterly under my breath the entire time.  Still, I don't think they need to now ask me, every single time I exit the freeway, if I'm sure I'm going the right way.

What Did We Ever Do to Asthma?

Bad news, folks.  Last night, Andrea went to check on Nate, and he was breathing extremely fast.  More like panting, really.  I woke him up to see if he was feeling all right, and he couldn't count to ten without taking three breaths.  So we put him in some sweatpants and Andrea took him for what seems like our hundredth late-night trip to the hospital.  When I told him that we were taking him to the hospital, Nate said to me, very sleepily, "Daddy, I want you to stay here with Jonah."  So thoughtful, making sure his little brother wasn't home alone.  On the way out, he had a very hard time deciding whether it was 11:00 in the morning or 11:00 at night, but when he got a look at the dark sky, he figured it out. 

Andrea can update this with more (and more accurate) details, but she reports that Nate was a trooper.  Unfortunately, it also sounds as if he, like his brother, has asthma.  Last night was the first night we've seen anything like this, and we don't know his triggers, but it looks like it.  For what it's worth, the doctor said he was the cutest patient he saw all night, doing math to calm himself down, after having chosen shots over oral medicine (this is a kid who knows when he won't eat something), advised the doctor, "But I don't want it to hurt me"; recapping afterward, "Ouch!  You hurt me!" 

Jonah was extremely confused when he got up.  Sometimes Andrea is at yoga, but Nate is never missing. 

And The Winner Of Today's "Mommy's Little Star" Award Goes To...

Nate!  For proclaiming in his poster of favorites that his favorite person is "my mom."  Awwwwwww!!  And for drawing me with a Jewish star, to denote that I am Jewish.  And for labeling me "Female," in case anyone couldn't tell. And for drawing me with a stomach that is grossly disproportionately large, and for labeling it "Stomach."  Wait, maybe he doesn't win after all.

Not to be outdone, Jonah would like you to know that he recently came across a picture of our wedding and said, in exactly the right breathless tone, "On that day, Mommy was a princess!"

And just like that, I forget that a mere 24 hours earlier, I was on the computer, researching whether it is possible to divorce them. 

Kidding! 

Nate's Greatest One-Liner

Lots more to post about the big trip East, but before I forget, Nate's greatest one-liner:

After a looooong day of travel, we were finally headed south on I-90, snug in our rental car and rental carseats, when I pointed out the city of Boston off in the distance.  Nate, who spends a lot of time looking at maps, asked curiously, "But where is the big star with the circle around it?"

Evidently he thought they just beamed them into the sky above all capital cities.

After Steve and I had been laughing for a few minutes, Jonah commented, "Nate, you're nuts."

Rhode Island Pictures

Sorry we haven't posted in a while.  As you can see, we were in Rhode Island: 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted by Daddy.

Iron Man

Why we didn't think of this sooner, I don't know, but last weekend Nate went from exercise-resistant to exercise-enthusiast solely by virtue of our agreement to time him doing whatever activity we want.  Most impressively, we rode the bike.  Where Nate earlier refused to go more than a few feet without braking, now he'll get a great head of steam up, the better to shave precious seconds off his time.  He knows that it takes 2:59 to go two blocks down the hill and 3:57 to get back up the hill, for example.  He knows that we can pass 13 trees in two minutes.  And he knows that on Saturday, he rode his bike for two hours and fifteen minutes.  That's right, two hours and fifteen minutes. And you know what that gets you?  A night of a kid who previously never exercised, shouting roughly every hour or so from his bedroom, "my knees!  My legs are hurting!" 

Also, we played a game called "obstacle course," where we take turns giving each other a list of instructions (go up the ladder to the fort; go down the slide; touch the blue ball; run to the clubhouse; etc.) and then time each other doing them.  At least, that's the way it's supposed to work.  Oddly, every time Nate sent me on my first task (run up the mountain as fast as you can), I'd get to the top, and then he'd say, "sorry, I pressed the wrong button; you need to start over." 

Incidentally, while we played this game, Nate got so wrapped up in the timer that he fell off the porch.  You may not know that Nate's favorite book right now is "Baloney (Henry P.)," a tall tale where many of the English words are replaced with alien-sounding foreign ones.  So it didn't seem odd to Nate, though it was very funny to Andrea and me, when, after stumbling from the porch, Nate sobbed, "I fell like an uyarak!" 

Posted by Daddy.

Outlawyered

Many nights, after taking his FloVent and his gross Nasonex, Jonah asks for and receives a treat for his good sportsmanship.  Tonight, however, he had his medicine late, so when he picked up a freshly baked cookie off the plate, I told him that he couldn't have one after all.  "Sorry," I said, "but you've already brushed your teeth, so no more cookies.  You can have one tomorrow."

Then I walked away, leaving him alone in a room with an open plate full of cookies.  You may be thinking that that is a stupid thing to do with a 3 year old.  The thing is, I know my kids.  I know the ways in which they are likely to misbehave, and the ways in which they are not, and if there is one thing I'm proud of, it's that I feel like I can trust them (well, in part because Nate seems utterly unaware that he can lie, but whatever, it's working for me).  For example, long-time readers of this blog may remember the story of 18 month old Nate twitching all over with desire while restraining himself from touching the snow globe.  So anyway, I was 100% confident that even if I left the means within his reach, Jonah would not take a cookie after being told not to (turning on the tv after being told not to is, for some reason, a different story).

It turns out that I was right, but that I am also not as creative a lawyer as Jonah.  Two minutes later, he sauntered into the office eating a brownie.  Apparently, he is a fan of strict interpretation.  It is true that while I had expressly rejected his request for a cookie, I had not, in fact, ruled on a motion to enjoy a brownie.  Wisely, he decided against asking first.  So I really couldn't complain, could I?

We Think Pretty Highly Of Ourselves, Don't We?

The question was, "If you know that 8+4=12, what other facts do you know?  Why?"  The answer, I'm sure, was "4+8=12, because it is a fact family."  Nate, however, took a more general view.  "Beacuse I know almost all the facts about math," he wrote.  Yep...how to calculate a square, how many minutes are in a day, how to make change for a dollar... that's about it, all right!