A boy and his dog

Yesterday, Jonah was resting his head on Patches's head.
Jonah: Mom, me and Patchy are connected.
Me: At the head?
Jonah: Yep. I learned it on Minecraft.
Me: I think you're connected at the soul. You and Patchy share a heart.
Jonah, grinning wildly!

Tonight, Jonah didn't make it up for story time. I found him crashed out, with his soulmate.

"Nature versus Nurture" or "Reparenting My Brother"

If you asked me 15 years ago, having just earned a biology degree, whether nature or nurture mattered more, I would've emphatically responded nurture.  DNA codes for eye color and height and heart disease, but our behavior is certainly a result of our upbringing and life choices.
Today, I have a different answer. As a parent, watching my children show behavioral traits of their uncless--people they see a few days a year, I am confident that nature holds the trump card. As a parent, i hope to hold some sway--to be able to guide and shape these little people into quality citizens. As time passes, I doubt my influence. Today, I'm on the precipice of becoming a fatalist. Perhaps every action we ever make was predetermined by our genetic code.
I learned to believe in nature from watching Jackson's slight head cock; hearing him talk and talk and talk; and being contradicted by my son after every statement I make. I'm sure he has a lot of Dodge traits, but those are hard for me to identify. So I see Wesley, Jacob, and Frank.
Then Jonah was born--a pale, redheaded duplication of my brothers. At first I wasn't sure which one. My memories tell me it's Ellis, but that must be the greater age difference because photos show a better match to Morgan. Once he started to crawl and climb and get into things, I knew. My child is my brother, Morgan, reincarnated during his lifetime. I am reparenting my own brother. It's clear from the mischievous twinkle in Jonah ' s eyes, from the way he expresses his eyebrows--one at a time, and his drive to turn every situation into hilarity--when Jonah seeks out funny, there is no stopping him.
For those reasons, I believe in nature. I offer 2 stories that are suggesting fate:

When Morgan was almost 3, a girl was murdered in our neighborhood. It was tragic and traumatic for children and adults. We were lectured ever after about stranger danger and how to keep ourselves safe. That summer, Morgan came up with his defense. He said that "if a kidnapper ever grabs me, I'll just pull out my 'kidnapper trick', shove it into his face, and the kidnapper will let me go and I'll run away." He demonstrated by reaching into his pants and pulling out a wad of dirty/used toilet paper and waving it in everyone's face.
Last summer, Jonah told me "If a bad guy ever gets me, I'll shove a used pullup in his face." Thankfully, Jonah doesn't know about child abductions, and he wasn't wiping himself yet.

Jonah has started fibbing to avoid getting in trouble. His answer to the question "who did ______" is now always "ghosts did it." I've had the conversation a dozen times with him now. It's always "ghosts." Was it you, Jonah? "Ghosts" I think it was you. "No! Ghosts did that."
When Morgan was little, between the ages 3 and 8, every mishap was done by Freddy Krueger.  My little brother's imaginary friend/scapegoat was Freddy Krueger.  I'm pretty sure that if Jonah knew that name, he'd be using it.

I love and miss Morgan. He is full of fun, his conversations are engaging and lively (even when he purposefully picks an antagonistic side of an argument--say global warming.) Morgan was a delightful child. He was sweet, spirited, and found the fun in everything. It makes me happy to have Jonah surprise me with wonderful memories of my childhood and brother. Two souls connected through space and time by one double helix.

Numbers

I am one beaming, proud mother these days. Jackson has suddenly hit the I-can't-get-enough-numbers phase and the duh-duh-duh-daddy phase.

With numbers, Jackson used to count to 3, then 5, then struggle with 6 but whiz through 7-8-9. All last year, he could make it to 13 before the rest of the teens came out garbled up. Around Christmas, he found a dinosaur math app on the iPad with addition and subtraction quizzes. He is able to tap out the solutions with just an occasional mistake.
This last week, he's been hitting his stride with counting. He easily makes it to 19, then struggles a little because he really wants there to be a number called "eleventeen". Yesterday, we were working through it: me--20, 21 Jackson--22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, twenty ten me--that's 30...31 Jackson--32, 33, 34... We made it all the way to 100 this way with jack trying to make 3010, 4010, etc and me correcting him to the next series. There was a lot of enthusiastic cheering when we reached 100. I think a few more times together, and he won't need me anymore. My kindergarten self would count to 100 to pass the time during car rides or waiting in line. I remember going with my father to the gravel yard and counting to 100 over and over while we got a truckload of pea gravel. I'm thrilled that my boy enjoys numbers too.

Jackson is also sharing his knowledge with his "mini-me", Jonah. This is great, because Jonah copies everything his big brother does. Jonah will sometimes count on his own as high as 4, but mostly he has the counting rhythm down. Jack will show Jonah how to count, but gets really frustrated that Jonah mixes up numbers or repeats one number over and over. This has all been prompting me to think about how math (or anything really) is learned. One night when jack was really frustrated and yelling at jonah how to do it the right way, I was able to get Jack's attention and talk to him about how Jonah was learning.
I explained how Jonah was new to it, and didn't know how to say the words for all of the numbers yet, but that was OK. He was learning how there was a rhythm to counting: 1-2-3-4-5-6-7... and even if Jonah just said, "9-9-9-9", he was learning the rhythm. I pointed out the numbers I had heard Jonah say "1-2-3-4-6-9" and explained how he would learn more numbers, and that saying the numbers even in the wrong order was helping him learn to count. I must have explained the process really well, because it really sunk in. Jackson cheerfully went back to helping Jonah count penguins, and I shot this video. Yeah, I know the video isn't super polished (even by my standards). I really think it captures the process of learning though, and the elements of the learning process.

Jack has made big strides in reading also. He is attending Lebanon Elementary Preschool now. It's just 3 hours a day, but it's been great. I've had a difficult time getting jack to pay attention to letters at home (except for the alphabet song, which for a while last summer was the only lullaby he'd accept). His preschool has succeeded where I couldn't. He has learned to write most of the letters now, and spends a lot of time writing his name. He's writing his first and last name now. A few months ago, it was just Jackson, and the focus was on making all the letters appear somewhere on the page. If he forgot the "c", he was happy to add it at the end. He also drew a very wonky "s". Now he writes the letters in order, although he struggles with writing left to write. When he writes it right to left, he also inverts all the letters except for the J.
He will sometimes ask me what letters he needs to spell other names like jonah or Evie. I usually write the new names once for him so that he can copy. This last week, he's been working on adding the dodge to his name. He can write it forward or backward now, although sometimes he picks up the g at the end.

Tonight he hit a major reading milestone. We were having bedtime stories, and "Gossie" was up. I like Gossie, and it was a nightly repeat when Jackson turned two. We really haven't read it since, but I've started picking it up since Jonah is just shy of two now. Jackson doesn't remember all the words, but he has the plotline down. A few days ago, he was "reading" it by repeating the parts of the text he has memorized and adlibbing the rest of the plot.
Tonight, his technique was completely different. He used his finger to underline the words as he went through the story, saying much of it from memory and filling in much of the rest. Then (and this was really magical for me) he started sounding some written words out!! "They were wuh-wuh-wuh-walking. On suh-suh-someone else's eff-fuh-fuh-ē-eet." This was such a moment of pride for me,to see the lights suddenly go on like that about how reading works. Really joyful pride on my part. We high-fived and exchanged pounds with fireworks and I laid the praise on thick (not in the forced, yay-another-tiny-success way, but in the -You-are-a-super-genius-and-I-am-overwhelmed-by-it kind of way) and I kissed his smart little head. I don't know if they cover how to sound out words at school, but when he quizzes me at home on spelling words, I usually say, "Pants start with P, puh-puh-puh-pants."

School has also been working on the concept of patterns, and jack is incorporating it into daily life. He gets really excited to find patterns. A few days ago, he found a pattern on a background wallpaper border in a picture book, duck-ball-duck-ball. I just noticed a duplo block tower with 8 dot red blocks stacked on side by side 4 dot green and blue blocks, stacked on 8 dot red blocks. Kind of a big deal for a kid who a year ago would still only use one color block at a time.

Have I gushed enough?! I can't help it. I'm really excited about all of the new, sudden progress my boy has made. I'm also fascinated by how the learning process works. It's amazing to see it unfold.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CbytGWG50-U

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39yz8VL-Fsg

"The Mother of all Curse Words" --blog post #200

A few weeks ago, I was buckling the kids in the car. Jackson picked up some card, then said, "this is a pain in the f-ing a-." I said, "what did you say?" and he repeated his previous statement. His statement was so random, so deliberate, and said in such a way that I knew he was trying the new words out, testing my parenting, and aware that he said something that just maybe was outside his current boundaries--something that I as a parent couldn't just let slide and hope it would go away. I took a deep breathe, snapped Jonah's buckle, and started my quickly conceived speech about that not being a nice thing to say. I was told, "well, Daddy thinks it's a nice thing to say" 
So great, he ratted his daddy out.  Of course he had learned this from daddy. I don't use this kind of language in front of my child and even if it had come from me, I leave the f- out of this particular phrase.  Then there's the dilema of how to punish him. My stern lecture would only go so far, time out was insufficient and uninforcible since  I clearly wasn't going back inside for 3 minutes on the stair. I couldn't see any other recourse besides the threat of soap.
I told him again that it wasn't a nice thing to say, not for little boys and not for mommy or daddy either. I told him those were dirty words and the only solution was to clean his mouth up by washing it with soap (trying to convince myself that it was a real connection and very reasonable punishment). I told him if mommy or daddy said it to remind us that it wasn't a nice thing to say and we would be in trouble too. Then I got in the car myself, hoped my speech was impressionative, and wondered how to break the news to my husband in a way that would serve to put him on notice as well.
A few days later, Jackson was bouncing around the house, and told me he might "fall and break his f-ing head." I repeated my speech and again listened to his arguement that daddy thought it was a nice thing to say. I repeated my speech with emphasis on the soap. 30 minutes later, Jack was jumping on the bed chanting about falling and "breaking his f-ing head". 
I put Jonah down and let out a deep sigh of disbelief. Disbelief of what I was hearing from my 3 1/2 year old, disbelief that I was really going to have to get the soap out, disbelief that my husband hadn't tempered his own language. Visions of that scene from "The Christmas Story" flashed through my mind as I picked up my sweet baby boy and carried him into the bathroom, his fate sealed. I gave him a longer speech. He was unphased. I showed him a bar of soap, then had to explain just what it was since we use a body wash with the kids and liquid soap at the sink. I had to hold him down to attempt to put it in his mouth. He grimmaced, and I touched the tiniest bit to his tooth. He ran away complaining, but did not repeat his chant. I took the next opportunity to again chastise my husband.  Jason has since been moping around, wearing his 'worst father in the world' medallion.
Those of you who know my Jackson know he loves to play with my iTouch. He calls it "mine game". If I take it to work, I come home hearing "mom, do you know where mine game is?" in the most pleading little voice. I have it loaded up with toddler aps. He plays them all, but mostly he plays Pocket God. I recognize that torturing pygmies is a little mature of a theme. I'm a little embarrassed that when we visited Utah, he showed everyone as he said, "see the zombies eat the kidneys brains and that makes more zombies". I rationalize that playing Pocket God is good for him because he has to take multi-sequenced steps to a given reaction, it's bigger than just cause and effect.
 He also uses the YouTube ap to watch videos of his own giggling self, muppets singing 'Ma Nama Na', or Donald Duck shorts. He saved a video of someone playing a Roger Rabbit video game to the YouTube favorites. I saw him watching it a couple times, and it was boring so I tuned it out after a few seconds. Normally I let him use the iTouch on his own. He likes to play it when he's "boring" because I'm cooking or taking care of Jonah or whatever.  A few nights ago, he was sitting next to me playing with the iTouch. He turned on the Roger Rabbit video. About 3 seconds beyond the point I'd been tuning out, the narrator said, "This right here is a pain in the f-ing a-". I think a "fall and break my f-ing head" might've been in the upcoming dialogue. Instead of waiting to listen for that, I snatched the itouch from Jackson's protesting fingers and erased the link from the memory.
Jason is relieved that he's no longer the worst parent in the world. He handed that title to me for letting my sweet little boy have unsupervised access to the Internet. YouTube. What was I thinking?! It could've been much worse, right?! So now we're both on notice, paying a little more attention to our language and to our little parrot's viewing habits. This parenting thing is gonna be a long looong road, sigh.  

Making pie

Me: Jack, we've got work to do tonight. We've got to make pies.
Jack: yay! Is it gonna be bacon pie?! Or frosting pie with cookies?!

The Unanswerable Why's (a new series)

"Mo-om, why do you roll your eyes around in circles like wheels?"

Behave

Quote of the day:

"Daddy, Behave!"

Followed by, "Mom, he isn't being have."

Catching up on the holidays--Halloween

This Halloween, I thought I could just try to put Jackson in his dinosaur costume from last Halloween.  Around mid-October, I was in Target with Nicole who was trying to show me an adorable chicken costume for wee ones.  We didn't see the chicken costume, but Jackson spotted the Elmo.  We weren't even out of the store before he was wearing it.

We had a great time trick or treating--Jackson was into it after the first house.  He would walk slowly up the driveway, say Trick or Treat before the bell was rung or the door was opened, collect handful after handful of candy (on account of his amazing cuteness), then whisper "Ank you" after the door closed and he was 1/2 way down the walk.  At the middle of the driveway, he would shout, "We need get some more candy!" and we'd walk to the next house.

Someone in the neighborhood stages a haunted house in their garage complete with a cardboard maze, scary music, ghouls and skeletons on pullies, and a strobe light.  We went in with Jackson walking cheerfully.  As we traversed the maze, Jack walked more and more slowly.  Eventually he just stopped walking and we had to carry him the rest of the way out.  Our hosts treated him at the end, and he declared it "not so bad" as we walked away.

Driving home, we all had a piece of chocolate from the pumpkin.  Back inside, the pumpkin went on the counter and Jackson got out his stool to help himself to more candy.  The pumpkin journeyed to higher and higher spots in the kitchen, eventually spending the night on top of the refrigerator.    It eventually went on a high shelf in the pantry, with Jackson asking daily for his candy rations (2 pieces).  The pumpkin was much heavier than it should've been for the 20 odd houses we hit (widely spaced country houses, and a still queasy feeling mother).

Questions about the baby.

For the last few months, Jackson has been patting my belly and asking questions about the baby.  Questions like, "You got a baby in you belly?" "Why is it so big?"  "When is the baby goin come out?" "Is it a brother or a sisser?...No, it a sisser."  Sometimes he pats up a little bit high, so I explained how those are going to make milk for the baby.  Now, sometimes he pats up a little high and says "And these will make milk for the baby to eat?"

This morning, we had the following exchange:

"Does your baby cry?"

"No" Jackson looks at me incredulously.  Guess someone told him that all babies cry.

"Well, maybe.  But we can't hear him through my belly."  Incredulous look continues.

I thought for a moment about how to explain it to him.  Telling him my belly was full of water, not air and the baby wouldn't breathe until he was born seemed like it would be a little bit much to comprehend.  Ditto on explaining wave theory.

So, I went with: "Sound makes a vibration that travels through the air.  You can't hear the baby if he tries to cry through my belly because the sound can't get out.  See how you can hear me when I talk like this" then grabbing a big wad of fuzzy blanket and putting it in front of my face, "But if I put the blanket over my mouth, you can't hear me anymore?"

Then Jackson grabbed a little handful of blanket, put it in front of his mouth so the corners of his mouth were still free, and said "mah mah mah.mah mah".

He grabbed another tiny handful of blanket, put it barely in front of his lips, and said "I'm thinking we need some breakfast."  Then we went downstairs to the kitchen.

Please Excuse Me.

I was sitting on the bamboo mat in front of the fire.  Jackson decided he would like to roll the mat up.  He rolled it up until he bumped into me, then said, "Do you mind?"  I ignored him, and he repeated, "Mommy, Do you mind!?"  I suggested he might want to substitute either the phrase "Excuse me, please" or "Move, please".  So he did and I moved. 
I hold Jason fully responsible.

The Grinch

So, we're now 6 weeks into "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" repeated nightly.  Good thing I like the story, too.  At the beginning of the adventure, I would sing "Da Who Dory" when the Who's sang.  Jackson complained, "I don't like Da Who!"  I asked what he'd prefer, and he settled on Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.  So after teasing him with a  little Da Who, I'd finish with Twinkle Twinkle.

Two weeks into this routine, Jackson started filling in his favorite phrases.  First with "He got an awful idea!" now with more feeling, "The Grinch got a won-ful, AWE-FULL idea!"  He likes to interject with other phrases too "like coo of a dove" "his heart was two sizes too small" and he's so proud every time.  Last night, he went through the whole segment about the Who's feasting while I returned from a trip to the bathroom.  Jason tells me he sometimes quotes Grinch phrases to him during the day. And after watching the movie (classic Chuck Jones with Boris Karloff version, of course) he insists that the Who's sing only Da Who and nothing but Da Who.

I've tried to switch over to other books, which results in my reading extra books.  For now, we're sticking with the Grinch.
 

Closing Remarks

I'm sure you're all dying to see Christmas pictures. I have every intention of posted them promptly. For now, please accept Jackson's closing remarks from Christmas Day. This is after Jackson's was put to bed. He was at the gate to his room, calling for more attention.

Mom!
Mom!
Mommy!
Jason!
Jason!
Mommy!
Jason!

(Jason and I are down the hall, cracking up! Jason, "He's 2 1/2 and already I'm getting the first name treatment.")

What is that laughing about?!
RIGHT NOW!

A few days ago, I'd come across something annoying that Jason had done. Can't recall what now. Anyway, I mumbled, "Grrr, Jason". Jack heard me and asked who Jason was. So I explained how Daddy's other name is Jason, and Mommy's other name is Sheree. He gave me a funny look. Later he tried telling me that his other name was Jason. A few days later, he checked with his Daddy and was told that indeed, his Daddy did have another name, which was Jason. Guess he decided to try it out last night.

This day is off to an exceptionally nice start

This morning, Jackson slept until 8:30! I'm sure this was a result of 2 acts of leniency on my part. First, I let him stay up an extra couple of hours. But we were making mini cheesecakes, and it was only fair to let him enjoy his handiwork. Second and probably more influentially, I let him sleep with me the last half of the night. He's teething, and unless I drug him at bedtime (we're out of baby motrin) he wakes up screaming, "Mommy-I need you!". So at 4 am, on the second round of screaming, I tucked him back in bed, but left his gate open and told him he could come sleep with me if he wanted. He was in my bed before I returned from the bathroom. He does sleep more soundly with another person. I had to get up at 8 after the hunters' gunshots frightened my dog who nosed me out of bed. Jackson only lasted another 30 minutes on his own.
We came downstairs, and Jackson is snuggling in his fuzzy blanket and eating french toast.
Every 10 minutes or so, he said "Mom, you know...I bery lucky." So I say, "You are very lucky. I'm very lucky too." Then he might say, "We both bery lucky." I find these words to be a profound statement of affection from my boy. He came to them on his own, and I imagine they make more sense than repeating "I love you's". I'll take them. I'll also take the "Oh, mom-mom" I used to get with my hugs, but the frequency of those has declined since his vocabulary has increased.

I, Robot

Jackson insists on being called "Jack". If we say, "Monkey" or "Sunshine" or "Silly-head" he counters with "I not, I just Jack!" Jason tends to follow with a W&G "Just Jack" gesture (someday he'll be sorry.)
Sometimes, Jackson pretends to be a puppy, crawls and woof's. After getting a nice scratch behind the ears, he reverts to "Just Jack".
Today, he's told me a couple of times that he is a robot. (Shout out to Elliot!) He follows the statement with some monotone robot speech "I-am-a-ro-bot". At bedtime, he became a robot, and when I asked if he would wear his pants, he said "I-sorry. I-a-ro-bot. No-pants. I-need-my-blank-et."
So, there it is. "I-ro-bot" is the new universal excuse for being disagreeable. Frankly its a huge improvement over the whiny disagreeableness he picked up after getting hooked on PBS's Caillou.

Weekend Visitors

Nicole, Ben, and Carolyn came up this weekend. We went to the baby stores so Nicole could finish registering. Did I mention she's expecting a little girl in December? See details here: http://www.webbabyshower.com/nicole/

Our guests came bringing toys. A stuffed Plankton beanie baby from Ben, and a couple of books with juggling puppies from Carolyn. Both were hits.

This morning, I went upstairs and left Jack with Carolyn and Nicole. After I left, He said, "Where Mom?" After hearing that I had gone upstairs, he ran for the pantry. When Nicole and Carolyn got there, he was holding a bag of chips and scanning the shelves said, "Mom gone, find some candy!"

Jackson was all over Ben this weekend. He kept asking, "Where Ben", and had a complete meltdown when they left today. He wouldn't give them smoochies goodbye because he thought they would have to stay if he refused. :(

The meltdown signaled nap time. I took Jack for a drive around the neighborhood to get him started, then laid down with him. We slept 'til 8:30. Not so good for bed time, but it was a badly needed snooze.

This week

Jackson and I went to the grocery store today. He was tired, and didn't want to ride in the cart. So I let him help me push it instead. He figured out (without my prompting) that he could stand on the bottom rack and ride, then just hang from the bar holding his feet up and ride. Very exciting stuff for my little 2 year old. Even more exciting was the thrill of helping me shop. First, he found the s'mores display and in went the marshmallows. I spent too long reading packages in the soup aisle, and boxes of Mac n' Cheese were tossed into the cart. I stopped by the candy aisle to get some new potty "beans" and he threw several bags of candy in, which I had to surreptitiously remove. I'm sure we'll have many adventures in grocery shopping to come, and on some of those trips cookies and crackers will make it home that I won't have see enter the cart.

A few days ago, Jackson showed me this:

He proudly proclaimed it "mine airplane".


Some time later, he converted it into this:

"bird".

Thus his imagination has taken flight.

Jackson loves Mr. Potato Head or "Tado Head" as he calls him. Sometimes, only his parts can be found, and that's fun, too.



We're still having our usual night time struggles. Right now, the ritual goes something like this:
1-Take Jackson up to bed. Change him, check his armpits for critters (ticks) and re-read a couple of stories.
2-I suggest we climb in the bed and I can "Hop Up" with him a bit. He refuses and goes on playing with whatever he was playing with before story time started. It could be blocks or trucks or this weekend, a handful of makeup wedges and a butterfly hairclip (Funnest toy he's had in a while).
3-I coax a hug and a series of kisses out of him, and tell him "Sweet Dreams, Jackson" which he echoes "Pweet Dweams, mommy."
4-I turn out his light, leaving the hall light on so he can see his toys.
5-Five minutes later, he's standing at his gate calling, "Mom...Mom...Mommeeeee!"
6-I may or may not come then, but I check up on him. Eventually, he might decide to climb into bed and and "move" over so I can "Hop Up". The important thing to him is that I say "Sweet Dreams" a couple of times everytime I check in.
7-Eventually, he will go to sleep. Maybe 1 or 2 hours after being put to bed. Usually in his bed, but sometimes not.

Shown here: Jackson rocks himself to sleep. With pillow, fuzzy "Blank", the book, 'As Quck as a Cricket", a bear, and a crayon.

Fat Cat?

Jack has been going around the house asking "Fat Cat?" for some 6 weeks now. It has been a mystery. We do have a fat cat, but if I refer to his girth, I call him "Fatty Ballooey". I haven't been using this name lately, I've been calling the furball "Ballooey Kitty" mostly. Usually the feline in question is nowhere to be seen when Jack poses the question. I sometimes wonder if he is asking for the cat, or where the cat is, but it doesn't seem likely because when he sees the cats, he squeals and the cats skedaddle through the hole in the door.

A few days ago, he said "fat cat" in the closet, which really made no sense since its not a favorite haunt of my fluffy kitty. He then requested to be lifted, and reached out for the bag of goldfish crackers left on the shelf (leftover from our camping trip.)

So, 1 mystery solved. Another mystery opened. Jack can say "Fish" very clearly, and says "Crack" for all other crackers. (Ironic since he goes after crackers as if they were indeed crack cocaine). It seems strange that combining 2 words he says clearly made both words corrupt. I am enjoying hearing his language development unfold. Hoping to soon post at length with a list of his sweet utterances and the English translations, before his speech grows up and I forget.

See, Mom...

"See, Mom...Ope"

That's was Jackson's proud announcement of the day.
He unlocked the deadbolt for the first time.
We are doomed.

mustard

Upon request, I gave Jackson a post bedtime snack of hotdog, ketchup, mustard, and cheese. A few minutes later, he came trudging into the kitchen shouting the following:
"hep"
"wa'er"
"hep"

I guess the mustard was a little spicey. Oops.

Bugs

Everyone once in a while, I am struck by the reality that everything my child knows must be spoon fed to him. He picks up bits of information from casual contact with friends, strangers, books, and TV. For the most part, though--the information gained has come from his parents. Last fall, I realized I had yet to teach him all the parts of a room. He knew about the walls, the doors, closets, and floors, but I had underlooked the ceiling. So we took 5 minutes to learn about it.

As we're heading into summer, we're spending a lot of time outdoors, which is teeming with insect life (especially in this wet and rural climate). One day, we came across a pile of sugar ants and Jackson proudly shouted, "Bee!". Several of Jack's books feature bees, and I make a big deal of it with buzzing sounds and tickling. Somehow, we haven't read about any other insects worth getting excited about. We do have a book about bugs that Jackson likes, but they are personified and busy building a house. They don't really relate to the critters we find outside.

So, we crouched down to talk about the ants. Now when a carpenter ant finds its way inside, Jackson is on the seen "Ant! Stomp!" (Still working on context, stomp ants inside and leave them be outside.) When we go for walks, we pass through swarms of gnats. The first time, Jackson shouted "Bee!" So we spent some time talking about the flies. Look a few posts back and y0u can see the hilarity that ensues when there are flies inside.

When we come across the insect life, I describe each one in a specific way. Now Jack knows about the ants, flies, spiders, butterflies, ladybugs, and caterpillars. It's occurred to me that my specificity is great, but it still leaves a little knowledge gap. I haven't found a way to work the word "bug" into Jack's developing vocabulary. I don't even know how to approach it. For the most part, I use the specific word for the type of insect I meet (unless there's a particularly annoying swarm, and then the word "bug" is accompanied by a few expletives I'd rather not draw attention to with my toddler). When I find an opportunity to teach the word, I expect it to be in the context of true bugs, and even then I'll probably be specific "box elder bug" or "stink bug". Should I be reassured that eventually my boy will attend preschool or kindergarten and quickly be schooled by his peers on the generic term for all tiny, mostly flighted creatures. Or should I take the responsibility to teach him more seriously and make sure he knows his preschool pop culture to prevent any playground embarrassments?