The Crickets Are Eating Ice Cream

There is so much to say about Evan, especially now after 2 years and 3 months of his respiring. I haven't been a good text chronicler of his activity. Sorry, son. His use of languange is more and more astounding, as he has fully moved from the Ga Ga Goo Goo period of infancy to the full on use of phrases and long run-on phoneme rambles where he is practicing with the sound of sentences, the ups and downs and emphases.

He has come out with some great statements lately which I want to get down. The latest was asking "Does the grass cry? Do the trees cry? Does the dirt cry?" These were pretty hard to answer. Pamela thought he might be referring to grass getting cut down by mowers, but I think he was just personifying they and wondering if they expressed emotions as we do. Perhaps they do on a deep nervous system level, but I think plants bend and snap and crack with great resilience. I don't think broccoli minds much being eaten.

"The crickets are eating ice cream" was another of Evan's recent quips, as we took an evening walk and the crickets came out to spurp at the syrup of the night.

I'll try to keep a better record and have more of this material to put down here. Soon.

Phases, Part 2

Evan is almost 2 years old. He is still teething, with about 12 or 14 teeth more or less in, including some early molars. We give him baby Tylenol or Motrin usually before bed to help him sleep through the teething. So much has happened in the past 6 months developmentally. he doesn't do the "Kicky" activity as much, but does occasionally and almost does it for me on special request. His use of language and growing vocabulary may be the most fascinating barometer of his growth. He also seems to be bigger every day, although his size almost seems to fluctuate like a little ball inflating and then losing a little air, inflating again and losing a little. Perhaps that is how people grow: 2 steps forward, 1 step back.

Of course he is using "No!" a lot, in response to our trying to control his behavior by using that word more often than we should. Yesterday, he stood in his high chair and stared at me, firmly asserting "Sit down! Sit down!" as his way of preparing for and removing my expected response to his standing. He has many words in his vocabulary now, the latest being "Nut butta". His mom will give him almond butter with banana. he also likes dried cranberries, well all berries of course, and grapes. "Gok gok" is still pretty well used for trucks and cars, though he asks for "Engines" if he wants to go to the fire station. "Meems" is for creams, which describes the frozen yogurt store his mom frequents (and me too unreluctantly). "Ming" is the swing in our backyard or the park. He calls out for helicopters and airplanes and trash trucks and street sweepers in words which are pretty close to the real thing. We read as much as we can and have continued to keep him off television until he is at least 2, advice we've read about in more than one place. Recently, a friend studying to be a Waldorf School teacher said they recommend keeping kids off television until 5th grade, when they are about 10, since TV kills the child's inner imagination and ability to create inner visions for stories and ideas. Makes sense, if you are letting an external box do all the visualizing for you. We may let him start to see some Sesame Street and Thomas The Tank Engine, but Pamela thinks in 15 minute intervals and then off. Our town's new public library opened May 16 and is a great resource for the little boy, a beautiful temple honoring books and a place to meet other kids with a fun sitting area with chairs designed like big stacked books.

Daddy Going Backwards

We spent a few minutes with the backyard swing yesterday, me moving around the boy in the swing. He spends only a few minutes in there now before requesting "Down! Down!" Yesterday he commented on me walking around him with "Daddy going backwards." And it just seemed like a very astute summation of my life in general in relation to being a new father. In his newly forming ability with language it may have been simply that I was walking backwards to push him from a better vantage point. He likes to walk backwards out of the room sometimes, and we'll say "Bye-bye" as he leaves the room. But in my being an older dad, 46 when he was born and now 48, I do feel like I am traveling backwards away from some peak of physical and mental ability. If the first half of life is moving forward and involves constant growth and change towards being more complete, then perhaps the 2nd half involves the slow disassembly of that accumulation, the slow falling apart of the self. Daddy going backwards.