Retrospect

I know, I know. It's been a while since we've posted. There's lots of catching up to do. But I had to write this one out.

We've put up a ton of pictures in our stairway and sometimes, J-Dawg and I talk about the pictures when we're going downstairs in the morning. We were working on the concept of happy/sad yesterday. I was asking him if he were happy or sad in pictures, when we came across this shot from a year and a half ago.

-Are you happy or sad?

-Sad.

-Why are you sad?

-I don't like sitting on pumpkins, papa. I like sitting on chairs.

Flabbergasted 11 hours and 9 minutes into 2008

It is now 2008. The new year has arrived! Here at HQ, we are having a quiet morning before heading over to start the year off right by celebrating with friends.

The collards and black-eyed peas are bubbling away on the stove, white chocolate banana bread is browning in the oven, and the J-Dawg is coloring. A few minutes ago, the three of us had this conversation:

J: Mama, I'm looking for your phone number

M: Oh really?

J: Papa, I'm looking for your phone number too

P: Yeah?

J: Mama, where is your phone number?

M: My phone number is 617...

J: (interrupting proudly) Your phone number is 617-555-1212*

P and M: (in unison and flabbergastation) WHAT?!

J: Your phone number is 617-555-1212*

P: What?! (to Mama) How does he know our phone number?!

M: Um....

So yeah. Neither of us knows how the J-Dawg knows what our phone number is, unless he's heard us telling people when leaving messages or something. Thinking it might've been a fluke, we have since asked him several times what the number is, and he has consistently rattled off the correct number. We are both mystified and proud.


*not our actual phone number, though the area code is correct

Where birdies go?

The J-Dawg was getting ready for bed the other night when we saw a formation of geese out of his window.

-Papa, where birdies go?
-Um. They're going to Florida, for the winter.
-Go Florida? See Ngin-ngin, Yeh-yeh?
-Yes. They're going to visit your Ngin-ngin and Yeh-yeh.
-Call Ngin-ngin, Yeh-yeh.
-OK.

So we get my mom on speaker phone.

-Ngin-ngin!
-Hello, Jasper. How are you?
-I good. Ngin-ngin. Birdies fly Florida?

Mom thinks about this for a second.

-No. Not yet, sweetie. They're on their way, but they have to keep stopping for food and water. I'll call and let you know when they get here, ok?
-Ok. I love you.
-I love you too. Good night.

Hours of Enjoyment

J-Dawg has always enjoyed books, but recently, his interest has heightened to a whole new level.

This past weekend, the whole family was lounging around in the J-Man's room. He was busily playing with different toys and games: Ice Cream Truck, Matchbox cars, Duplo building blocks, Uncle Ming Ming's John Deere farm toy. Every so often he'd switch it up, and choose a new toy, and in between different bouts of play, he would pick up one of his many books that were also strewn about on the floor and ask Papa to read it.

- Gro Gro book, Papa!
- Monster at the End of this Book? Sure, let's read it!

So Papa reads the book with the boy happily turning the pages in spite of Grover's warnings to not turn the page. Upon finishing, J-Dawg merrily returns to his blocks so he can finish his sculpture. Once done with the building, he begins rummaging through his pile of books again, clearly he's got an agenda, and nothing will make him waver.

- Papa? Argadildo?
- Um, what?!
- ARGADILDO!

So, about a year ago we were at a mall and it was lunchtime. The food court happened to have a Chick-Fil-A. Since it's so rare for us to eat something like that (and because I love their soup), we decided to eat there, ordering the boy a kid's meal. For those of you who don't know, Chik-Fil-A is a company that prides itself on virtue and it's founders are very - let's just say they're not open on Sundays for a reason. And as such, they don't provide meaningless, mind-melting toys, they provide uplifting, thought-provoking toys...

...when we got J-Man's kid's meal, the toy inside was a mini-book entitled, A Tale of Resourcefulness with Armadillo.

Or should I say Argadildo?

Ice Cream Truck!

The J-Dawg is quite the talker now. We've started incorporating talking into his playtime. Saturday, we were at the playground when the distorted version of "Turkey in the Straw" that signifies the arrival of frozen treats rolls up. The little man looks up from his bucket in the sandbox and yells, "Ice cream truck!"

-No, Jasper. We have to eat lunch before we have ice cream.
-Ice cream truck!
-No, lunch first.
-Ice cream truck?
-Let's go get lunch.

Whew, crisis averted. Later, we're at home playing in his room before bed and he starts up again.

-Ice cream truck!
-Hm? I don't see an ice cream truck.
-No, papa. *I* ice cream truck.
-Oh, ok. Do you have chocolate?
-Cone. Cone.
-Hm. What's the flavor of the day?
-MONKEYBUS!
-Monkeybus? Ok, I'll have a monkeybus cone.

He runs off to "the back" of his ice cream truck and brings me an imaginary cone. But before he hands it off to me, he says

-Papa, money?

What a business man. He invents Monkeybus flavor and has good accounting skills. Somebody's way ahead of the game.

Channeling Grandpa

My father is known for his short attention span. One of my sister's favorite Dad moments was sitting around the house at Christmas time and witnessing my father singing loudly, "Jingle bells, jingle bells... Peanut?" He'd been distracted from the song by a tasty tasty peanut.

Tonight, Jasper was singing the alphabet song in the tub and finished up with, "W, X, Y, hippo!"

Talking points

The J-Dawg is learning words at an alarming rate. He's just getting the ability to repeat anything he hears. This marks the beginning of the phase that all parents love: the fake curse words phase.

"I am so freaking tired of President Bush!"
"Pick a lane, dorkhead!"
"We should get a sitter and go see the Hoo-ha Monologues."

Actually, "vagina" is a perfectly ok word for Jasper to use. He's learning his body parts and calling his penis exactly that. We're not going to make him use some silly phrase like "peepee."

Counting is going swimmingly. A few months ago, we were playing around and I said "one," totally expecting him to repeat the word to me. Instead, he said "twooooo". This continued for a while. And even now, he really prefers the even numbers. We take turns with the numbers.

The alphabet is coming along nicely too. We got a new toy a few weeks ago that perplexes me. When it sings that alphabet, it finishes with "w, x, y... zeeeee." Not "w, x, y AND z" Did someone sue the company for leading their children to believe that there's a letter called "and"?

We've also got foam letters for use in the bathtub. While the J-Dawg was taking his bath tonight, he grabbed the letter "W" and waved it around. I said to him, "That's W. Papa's name starts with W. But, I guess you didn't know that." I must have been 8 before I realized my father had a name other than "Daddy."

Ok, here's the last story about Jasper's verbal ability for today. I like to call him "Jasper-boo" I've singing that nickname to the tune of Gary Glitter's "Rock and Roll pt. 2" for months now. You know that song. It's the one you hear about sports events that goes, "Rock and roll.... HEY! Rock and roll." Just yesterday, I was idly singing it and he gave me the "HEY!" in response. Apparently, he just recognizes that tune, because you can sing anything to that tune and he'll give you the "HEY!" response. We've been rocking "Rubber Duck pt. 2" much of today.