Paint

A couple of weeks ago, Jonah and I watched a DVD about the Space Station. Shortly thereafter, he announced that he wasn't going to wear any clothes because he was a Proton rocket and rockets don't wear clothes. This wasn't a fundamentally new thing, because Jonah is usually something other than a kid or a boy, but it was different in two ways. First, this was the first time he was an object instead of a type of person. In fact, in the days that followed, he moved from rocket to bucket truck to garbage can.
Second, this was the first time he wanted to be totally naked. This was the real shocker because Jonah is very clothing conscious -- he chooses button-down shirts most days and wears them with the collar up, he will no longer wear t-shirts with pictures on them, and he swaps his wardrobe with the smallest sign of dirt.
While naked is okay at home, we didn't really want him in the buff at school. His grandma Janet convinced him to wear some "paint" -- one of two sets of REI longjohns. He now wears them whenever they are clean.

A New Big Brother

Jonah has been a big brother for just over 24 hours. So far, this doesn't seem to have effected him much. He has only seen his sister twice, and he was excited both times. She and mom come home tomorrow, and I suspect that is when the real adjustment will begin.

I'm ambivalent about this. On one hand, I am very excited to have the baby home. I'm also excited about the opportunity this creates for my son. I'm a big brother, too, and although I didn't appreciate it at the time I now know that my sister -- or just having a sibling -- had a lot of impact on my personality. I learned to be a protector and a teacher, and I attribute most of this to my relationship with my younger sister. I look forward to his sister, Aliza, softening Jonah a bit and helping him develop empathy.

At the same time, I already mourn for my son's loss of being the center of attention. I can't imagine how difficult this will be for him.

I am already calculating how I can be the right parent for Jonah through this, while at the same time giving my daughter what she needs AND building both of the relationships. I imagine I will focus on being the friend for Jonah that I've already tried to be. Do guy stuff with him, teach him everything I can, challenge him, and continue to love him more and more every day. I guess I'm as anxious for me as I am for him.

Underwear, Day 2

No accidents today. Jonah still needs to work on his aim, but no accidents.

I'm not sure if this will be self-sustaining yet. Michele and I reminded him frequently, but I don't think any of his trips to the potty were at our prompting. He seems to have a good sense for when he needs to go -- but now he acts on it.

We'll see how things go tomorrow, when he and Michele are home without me.

Underwear, Day 1

After about nine months of potty training teasers, we took the plunge this morning and put Jonah in underwear. He'd been in pull-ups for a couple of months, using the potty once or twice a day and dry all night every night. (For those of you new to the terminology, "pull-ups" are absorbent like diapers but they pull up like underwear. That way, the child can easily take them off and put them back on while learning to use the toilet.)

Today Jonah did really well. One accident. Otherwise, in the toilet or on the front porch (The latter after stripping to run through the sprinklers. Maybe not the best judgement on his part, since his clothes were in the line of fire). When he had his accident this afternoon, sitting on his bedroom floor, he quickly sounded the alarm and changed as fast as he could. A good sign, I think, that he is learning. Plus, it gave me what I needed before he went to bed: "Remember your accident earlier? What would happen if you had an accident while in bed?" Without my even suggesting it he went to the potty again, asking me to help him pee standing up.

I'm a total amateur at potty-training psychology, and I have pangs of parental guilt. I truly believe that he has to want it for him to be successful, and wearing pull-ups or diapers doesn't provide much incentive. I suspect that about 95% of the time he is aware enough now to choose the toilet over his pants. I'm hoping that the discomfort of wet Lightning McQueen underwear, plus loving parental support as he makes mistakes and pees on the carpet, will do the trick.

Early Career Planning

Yes, we do still exist. I apologize for the posting hiatus. It won't happen again. :)

Jonah is a mailman today. He and his mom told me this during dinner. He delivers mail on the street that runs perpendicular to ours, and his stuffed lamb, Baby Hoof, delivers mail on a street a couple of blocks away. Hoof ran out of mail today and had to go home.

I'm not sure when Jonah grew out of his childhood, but I think he skipped being a little boy entirely. We have another baby due in a few months, and despite the fact that we've been reading I'm Going to Be a Big Brother, he insists that he is not going to be a big brother. He is going to be a garbage truck driver, or an astronaut, or a construction worker, or a fireman (pictured here), depending on the day.

This may have started when he first became interested in vehicles. There is usually a truck involved, although he will opt for other vehicles as appropriate.

His choice in roles influences both his storytelling and mine. Each night, I read a story and tell a story at bedtime. When I ask what the story I tell should be about, it is always "Jonah the x". Sometimes he'll give me a lot more to go on, like "Jonah the tree trimmer and his tree trimming truck." This pretty much entitles me to tell a story about anything I feel like because Jonah, regardless of his role, is really a jack of all trades. The other night, for example, I told him about Jonah the truck driver and the mermaid. All truck drivers should have the scuba diving and shark chasing skills that Jonah has.

Food Negotiations

In the past month, Jonah has grown feistier about food. Michele has become an expert negotiator when it comes to getting Jonah to eat his dinner. Tonight was a great and surprising example.

We had a tasty stew tonight, with lentils, greens, potatoes, ham, carrots. Lentils and ham are usually within what Jonah will eat. Sometimes greens and potatoes. Nothing doing tonight. He wouldn't even touch bread. As Michele and I finished eating, we let him get up, we wiped him down, and he went to play.

Then the doorbell rang. Our neighbor appeared offering us fresh-off-the-tree persimmons. Yes, persimmons. I have never bought a persimmon in my life, nor have I prepared one at home. Jonah likes fruit, so we decided to give it a shot.

He gobbled up the first four or five pieces before Michele and I realized we had a new bargaining tool. Soon, a bite of ham got Jonah a bite of persimmon. A swallow of lentils plus a chunk of potato got him the next persimmon piece. I felt kind of guilty. If I'm going to offer my kid a treat in exchange for him eating dinner, shouldn't the treat at least be mildly unhealthy?

I guess not. Over the next fifteen minutes, Jonah ate a plate of stew chunks and almost half a persimmon. He didn't even ask for dessert.

First Day of School

Last Thursday, Jonah went to his first day of school by himself. Let me clarify -- Michele and I dropped him off at school and left, for the first time in Jonah's 27+ months of life. Jonah did great.

The night before, I had attended a discussion on transitions and separation that was put on by the preschool. Before this, I hadn't really thought that Jonah's starting school would impact me. The talk, however, filled me with a low level of dread. Would my kid be one of the three per year who has to be "handed off" to a teacher while mom and dad sneak out the door? Would Jonah have a meltdown in the parking lot? Was I prepared for this? How, really, would Michele take it?



To start with, Jonah rocked. We walked into his classroom just before 9 and he headed straight for the toy fire engines. He barely noticed when we left, barely felt the kisses we plunked on his head because he was too busy to look up from playing. When Michele returned a few hours later, she had to convince him to leave the playground. No ill effects, whatsoever.

Michele held up better than I expected. A few tears, but that was it. She was the brave one that day.

I'm still thinking about it. As uneventful as it may have been, this seems like a big transition. I have no doubt that it is the right thing for all of us. Jonah will learn from different adults -- and kids. His immune system will get a chance to buff up. Michele will have some free time, which she truly deserves. I'm the only one whose life doesn't directly change. This makes me sad, in a funny way, because I feel kind of left out. I guess that's what happens to dads sometimes.

(Couldn't resist the video. Jonah sings the "Hello Song" from Music Together. See if you can catch "Hello to my silliness" in the second part.)