All posts by Nami

A Child’s Morning Time Wonderland

Saturday morning started out as usual – John John being peckish from the word Go. He ate a purple pluot while the remainder of breakfast was being made.

“Mama, this pluot is made from grapes,” he told me.

“Hmm,” I said, “Weird.”

John responded more appropriately, “You mean it’s a similar color to grapes.”

“Yeah,” said John John.

Then he watched me at the stove from a stool for awhile.  After a bit he said, “I don’t feel good, Mama,” in the most normal voice. He didn’t seem like he didn’t feel good, so I asked him, “Why do you think you don’t feel good?”

“It’s because I ate too many bugs!”

He wasn’t sick, by the way.  Moments after eating a hearty breakfast, he was dancing around like a crazy bird flapping to Mendelssohn.

Speaking of birds, on Sunday morning, also during the breakfast making ritual, he says to John,  “Papa, you know the one where the pigeon turns into a black pigeon at the end?”

“No,” said John, “Which one?”

“The one where the pigeon turns into a black pigeon at the end when the music stops.”

“I don’t have any idea what you are talking about,” John said.

“I don’t have any idea, too,” was John John’s reply.

I did, but I kept that to myself because of the cuteness.

First Photo Essay By John John: Dinner Prep Ritual

We were getting food plated for dinner.  John John was super antsy, due to hunger and being almost 3 years old.  He found my phone.  He touched buttons until he found a photo app.  He took pictures.  I let him because, even if an iPhone was ruined, at least dinner would be served.  Little did I know that he would capture everything so beautifully.  I’ll be happy to remember dinner this way forevermore.

From plating to being seated at the table, I give you John John’s first photo essay:image image image image image image image image image image image image image image

Growing Up (In Spite of Himself)

This weekend, we moved John John to his first non-crib, big boy bed. The first night was a bit rough, but by nap today he seemed to have gotten the hang of it.  I can see, however, that he has some mixed feelings about the move. Last night he plaintively asked for his crib – it was already full of boxes of baby girl clothes…this is probably also related to his soon-to-be big brother status.

Today, he asked me if he was wearing big boy underpants. I told him yes. “Why?” he asked. “Because,” I told him, “You are a big boy now.”

He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts, and then declared in one of his fullest, nuanced sentences to date:

“No, I’m still just a little baby.”

Little baby has grown up. Even if he didn’t mean to.  He went to bed without any fuss tonight. A big boy.