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.
While John was checking out more stuff at the Fancy Food Show, we checked out lunch, the Bay Bridge, Embarcadero trolleys, and a large seagull. John John’s big question both on the drive up and at the pier: “What’s that water doing right there?” My answers were clearly unsatisfactory, as each reply prompted his requisite follow up question, “Why?”
The experience was akin to an International Cafe commercial (Anyone remember those? “Jean-Luc!”). Sitting at the dinner table with my family – imagine it:
I’m holding a bowl of soup up, inhaling the rich scent, looking through the gently curling steam at my loving husband, chef and creator of this amazing dish. The buttery-richness of homemade stock mixed with kabocha squash. Every sip brought the soft focus back to this dinner time pastoral, blurring out the loud and fussing toddler just out of frame to my left, probably throwing food on the ground and shouting no or something like that. Another sip. I look out the sliding glass door to see the fading colors of yet another beautiful sunset. The perfect end to what must have been a perfect day. “Honey,” I didn’t say because I don’t call anyone that, “this soup is perfection. Every swallow is like going on vacation.” I actually did say that second part. And it was true. So rich and sumptuous. So yummy.
That’s when I learned that, in addition to kabocha squash and chicken stock, the soup also had an entire stick of butter in it.
Whatever. I don’t care. Calgon, take me away…
My dad was in town playing with the Cypress Quartet. John John’s first concert! We met Opapa in front of the venue. John John was excited.
We sat in the very back, knowing that at any moment during the concert we might have to bolt. John John sat on my lap barely making it through the chamber society’s lengthy announcements of their upcoming schedule, but sat up when the musicians entered and walked up to the stage. He clapped, a member of the audience.
But they didn’t sit down to play. First was the informational talk on what we were about to hear. You can imagine how high that flew for a two year old. We had to leave before the music even began. (wah-wahhh goes the sad trombone.)
Happily, John John got his own private concert the very next morning.
He liked that very much.
I wrote about Viff in the post about the aquarium. I was too late on that one, too. By the time we drove home from the aquarium, he was already saying Fish correctly.
John John pointed to my shoulder recently, and said definitively, “Butt.” I looked at my shirt; he was pointing to some decorative buttons. “Button,” I said. “Can you say, ‘button?'”
“Butt,” he told me.
I kept meaning to make a little post about this because I thought it was cute. There have been many moments of this, pointing to his pants button, and announcing, “Butt.” Or my collared shirt: “Butt.”
Today, he said, “Button,” and I knew my chance of posting in the moment had slipped by. But while the iron is still hot, I wish to strike two more times: mokosyll & keemah.
It’s great that he is developing, but I’ll be just a little sad when he finally says motorcycle and cucumber.
A few weekends ago, the weather forecast showed temperatures in excess of 100 in San Jose both Saturday and Sunday, so we got out of Dodge and had two days of family adventure:
There was as event being set up for a Boys and Girls club, which meant we eventually left amid the booming bass of a sound system manned by a millenial (as indicated by musical selection and order), but while the morning was still cool-ish, and quiet, John John had fun with this enormous beach ball, the likes of which he’d never seen.
On the 18th my mom and I took the bean to his first visit of the Monterey Bay Aquarium. “John John,” we told him, “we are going to go to a place where we will see lots of different kinds of FISH!”
“Viff!” he exclaimed (That means fish, for those of you who didn’t already know).
“Yes! And maybe we’ll see jellyfish and sharks and crabs and penguins!”
“Octopus!” he added on his own.
“Yes, and maybe even an octopus!” I said, amazed.
He was excited. My favorite thing about watching him be engaged is that ‘quiet attention’ face of pure engrossment and concentration. You’ll recognize it on the second image down. He is a little sponge.
Now, he can pronounce ‘fish’ correctly (though I must concede, I’m a little sad…’viff’ was so cute, though he does still say ‘Sea Animo.’ I’m sure that, too, will be short lived. He’s growing up!) and can properly identify those ‘animos’ on his ocean-themed pajamas: Sea Turtle, Hammerhead Shark, Mako Shark, Whale.
Good times! Nice memories!