Hello, Internet! Sorry we’ve been away for so long — I was concentrating very hard on my first semester of law school. But I’ve missed talking to you.
Here is a little snapshot of us as we are now:
- Until a few minutes ago we had seaweed under our couch. I don’t know why I try to delude myself into thinking that, when I turn over the couch to retrieve his many, many missing toys and books, there won’t be food under there. But I always think, “Well, nobody eats under there — how would food get there?” But it does. Crackers, fried banana chips, a segment of tangerine… and dried seaweed.
- Our bear is talking now — pretty much non-stop. He even talks in his sleep. Last night he asked aloud, without waking up, “What is that book doing??” Then he fell silent again.
- Books are actually a big preoccupation. He really likes to read. The most commonly uttered sentence in our house is “Daddy, read-it Frances book!” The “it” particle at the end of some verbs seems to be a remnant from his first rudimentary attempts to understand English grammar
- His speech tends to be very precise and clipped. Each word gets its due. E.g., “Don’t. Like. Chicken. Only. Sausage.”
- He’s now three feet tall. This means that (a) he grew six inches in his second year — the normal range is two to five — and (b) he can now reach things that we put up on the highest counter. I don’t like this. He should stay short until he’s less likely to pull shit down and break it. So far we’ve been pretty successful at keeping him out of the kitchen, but I feel like it’s a siege, and sooner or later he’s going to invent Greek fire.
- He’s old enough to memorize our instructions, but not old enough to act on them. So he will dutifully recite, “Don’t. Pour. Water. Out.” as he pours a glass of water onto the floor.
- We are in good health. We have stopped eating very much in the way of bread, pasta, or potatoes, about which more in another post — but I have lost twenty pounds since the summer. I biked to school most of the semester, Elana is on Week One of the Couch To 5K program, and the kid works out by destroying everything we own and climbing up to stand on the table. (While saying cheerfully, “Don’t. Stand. On. Table.”)
- I am freaking out about my grades. They will be out in January. I feel pretty good about Crim Law, but I really have no idea how I did on the other two, except after each of them I thought of at least one mistake.
- H. frequently describes things as “nice.” Out of the blue he will look at our couch and say, “Nice couch!” And I’m always like, “Thank you! We feel it’s understated, but elegantly modern.”
- He’s developed quite a sense of humor, and if he makes you laugh, he’s always eager to confirm with you that something was a “Funny joke?”
- Elana finished her contract right before I started school, and she is now working on some pretty cool projects with various interesting parties around town. I will let her tell you more about that as she sees fit.
- This means that we are both working kind of full-time now, and H. therefore goes to daycare. We were worried that this would not go well, but as it turns out, day care may be just the thing for a kid his age — he really seems to enjoy the running around, and I think it’s good that he talks to grown-ups who aren’t us. But it does seem to be a job for him, and at the end of the day he’s often wired and cranky.
- Having a kid who reads is a funny thing — you really figure out quickly which kids’ books are written by people who know what they’re doing. Russell Hoban (pour some out for the dead homie) and Dr. Seuss are at the pinnacle of achievement in the form, Sandra Boynton follows not far behind, and then there are many, many lesser writers — some of whom are quite well-known. The interesting thing is that the kids seem to know which ones are good, too — H. loves Frances so much he can actually recite sentences from the books. (You know… short sentence without any prepositions. But still!) But every now and then he’s really entranced by something like Richard Scarry. I don’t get Richard Scarry. What’s with the weird, sexually-charged relationship between Miss Honey and Bruno? It’s this timid romance between two middle-aged people in a small town; very Winesburg, Ohio. Also, are Lowly Worm’s parents Calvinists? Why is he named that? If your last name is already “Worm,” do you really want to compound the problem for your poor son, just to teach him humility? (True story, though: Elana has an ancestor named Fear-Not Frink. That seems like it must have been a very comforting name.)
All right — that’s probably enough for now. We will try to update occasionally over the holidays, but I except this blog will fall dormant again when the new semester starts. Love to all.