Yesterday morning Nem-nem spotted a fat robin on the front lawn and pointed to it. (Tia notices birds too. We’ll be driving on the freeway and she’ll tell me there was a hawk or some other bird of prey - and it’s past too soon and I don’t see it.) I pointed to the bird also, said “Bird” and signed it to her, by moving my fingers like a bird’s beak. (I forgot the beak goes on your chin when you sign this.) Nem-nem tried to say the word:
Abd. AAbd. Aadb.
- and imitated the sign. A while later from downstairs she ventured upstairs (I stayed behind her to keep her safe) and to the front door, to go back outside. I picked her up and we waited in the front yard. She signed bird - she wants to see it again. In a long while the bird emerged from the bushes again, hunting for worms. “Aabd, aabd” she repeated and signed. We watched it listen to the ground and then peck - finally it tugged a really big worm with a lot of tugs out of the ground and chewed it apart in pecks until swallowing it whole and flying off to prevent an arriving bluejay from stealing it.
I hope those last grisly details really helped you appreciate this whole entry more.
Tia reports that Nem-nem picked a tissue up the other day, held it to her face and blew several times - just blowing, not any effective nose-blowing - just imitating.
Mago tends to like old-style “chiptune” Nintendo music. This is pleasing to his father. I played for him my mp3 album ripped from the game Legacy of the Wizard - explaining to him that this title more or less means “remember the wizard” - whatever that is supposed to mean, ha! - and he liked it. Here’s an exemplary track to accompany your blog reading.
I also explained to Mago that this is from a game I played as a kid. On the same drive (this was all quite a while ago - but every now and then he’ll ask me to play it again) a song from my collection came on entitled ShadowFire -
- a Commodore 64 tune I found and burned. After he learned this was from a game I hadn’t played, Mago said:
I played ShadowFire! when I was a kid.
- which he reminds me every time the song is played. On a different occasion while I was playing with him before bed, he said:
Daddy, I want to come live with you at work.
Whoops.
There’s a wall in the bathroom without an if-I-knew-the-name-of-it-it-would-probably-be-there thing that would keep water from spilling into the wall, and spiders from coming out of the wall - though we haven’t seen but very few spiders (as opposed to dozens) since politely asking them to find somewhere else to live - if you have faith, this works! - but by those spiders he has seen coming out from under that wall, he has dubbed it “The bug wall”.
Tia reports that the other day she set out to make a bed time chart for Mago, of photographs of him at each step of the routine. He had skipped his nap that day so she was hoping to move through things quickly and early. She led him through the routine - going potty, brushing teeth, reading a book, changing into pajamas, singing (he stood at the head of his bed and sang a single note for this step), praying, being tucked into bed - taking several photographs at each step. Going through the motions was acceptable enough to him that he went to bed without a fuss. We usually can’t get him to stay in bed until 8:45 or 9, but he was tucked in at 7:30 and stayed there!
Two evenings ago as I was holding Nem-nem she saw her shadow on a curtain in front of me, and was delighted - as if something alive were in front of her - and she started humming at it and waving her arm. I never capture the best of this stuff (by the time I get my recorder the best has passed), but I did get some of it:
[Note: it turns out these are at a MHz rate not always playable by the Adobe Flash player (I’m guessing older versions of the plugin). If these sound funny from the player here, you may download the mp3 and listen to it in any other player.]
Tia has clarified for me that “Eglor” is his way of saying what they called Bilbo - a burglar. She also said he absolutely loved it - this was the cartoon rendition of The Hobbit done I think in the 70’s (that rendition was awful - my opinion - but you can’t keep the magic of these stories out of any rendition - it’s the stuff of magic). He watched it twice.
“Eglor” sounds so much like a name for a character you would find in these series that as Mago related this to me I wondered if I’d simply forgotten about some character. I’ve heard it said that good writing is remembering things wrong - so here’s to the tale of Eglor.
This morning around 3 AM Tia nudged me to go to Mago, who came out of his room for some reason. I opened the door and he stood there, and seeing me, he started whining and throwing a tantrum - he wants to see mommy, not me. Sorry, friend. I took him back in his room and his tantrum mounted; finally I got out of him that he’s looking for Snowman (his plush toy). I searched around the house (I wouldn’t but he’d been searching and asked for help). I came back and found Snowman at the foot of his bed. I started putting Mago’s dinosaur blanket back on him to meet another tantrum from him; he insisted I have to be in the chair, like mom, not beside his bed, to put the blanket on. I’d indulge this if he weren’t throwing a tantrum, and I prompted him that I respond to a big boy voice. He kept his tantrum up so I simply put the blanket on, and he was relieved to see it can go properly on from beside the bed (as well as the chair). I thought I’d capitalize on the learning opportunity:
Did daddy put the blanket on you from beside the bed?
Yeah.
Did he put the blanket on right?
Yeah.
What did you learn from that?
Stop hitting.
Okay.
I gave him a hug.
Do you want another idea?
Yeah.
Did you learn that daddy can put the blanket on right from beside the bed?
Yeah.
I snuggled him for a while.
Did you look for mom?
Yeah?
Who came?
Daddy.
Did daddy help you?
Yeah.
What did you learn from that?
Loving Jesus.
Okay.
I can see as I’m writing this it’d be better to prompt him for details of events - he’d put it together more, he’d be doing more thinking. I’m doing better with this though.
Audio recordings Copyright 2008 Richard Alexander Hall all rights reserved.
Just after 6 AM Mago awoke loudly whining (almost howling) and I went into his room to learn what was the matter. He charged me like a linebacker to push me out of the room, crying:
No, I wanted mommy!
I know better than to argue with that, but at the same time Tia was still sleeping and I’m not going to leave and get her. I tried to hold him and tell him it made me sad he didn’t want me (how permanent that sounds - better to say I’m sad he doesn’t want my help - most mornings he’ll give me a long hug). He wouldn’t have any of it, and kept crying -
Mommy didn’t put on my shoes!
- and in some moments he went back to his bed. I paused, standing at his door trying to sort out where this complaint was coming from.
Did you have a dream?
Yeah.
What happened in the dream?
A picture frame fell.
Then what happened?
He didn’t have any further answer, so I went to his bed side. I didn’t know what to do with this. I wondered what connection this had with shoes in a dream or real life. Maybe I asked the wrong question next.
What did you learn from that?
Stop hitting.
.. I don’t know that that has anything to do with that, but okay.
How would I more carefully say I don’t see a connection while acklowledging he may? .. maybe just like that. Or is this just a default answer? It both tickles me and makes me sad. He’s reflecting to us our Old Testament treatment - do not, do not. Let’s turn that around to “Be gentle.” I guess “Don’t” is a good starting place.
So a picture frame fell - of what picture? - that could be sad symbolism in itself - and mom wouldn’t put on your shoes.. and maybe you want to hit people because of these things, but you don’t. That’s good. If I’m understanding this right.
It eased him, anyway, and he slept for another hour and a half.
These past two mornings, first thing Mago says when emerging from his room to see me:
I promise not to take naps anymore.
These affirmations come between his daytime efforts to abandon naps, often ending, Tia tells me, in his nodding off in the early evening and consequently going to bed later - and thus the cycle repeats itself.
This morning he had a time out for talking loudly near Nem-nem’s room and waking her up, in which time out he struck me in his futile but aggressive way in frustration. I said to him very pitifully “Oh, son..” and told him I’d have to take some stuffed animals and keep them until I come home from work, and he should work on being gentle with Tia and Nem-nem until then. (He adores Nem-nem. When his adoration isn’t expressed in wrestling or otherwise hurting her. Tia is exasperated some days, and I think our loving disciplining is tapering off his uncontrollability/aggression?) This saddened and angered him a great deal, and he lovingly stroked my face in between fits to show his effort to be gentle. I told him that’s great, and he needs to do that all day until I come home and give his stuffed animals back. (Y’all are getting pictures of me towing a ton of kids’ stuffed animals away in my car and bringing them into work. That would be fun - but I just hid them in the house.)
In the late morning I called him, and he answered the phone, and I asked him how he was doing with being gentle. His answer was:
“So you can give me my stuffed animals back.”
Okay. That’s not an answer, but he’s clearly got the concept. After this, I asked him to let me talk to Tia, to go give the phone to Tia, and he said:
“Why are you going to work.. you are going to work.. okay come home. I love you.” (click.)
I hang up and get another dial tone and call again.
“Hi.”
“Hi. Will you get mom?”
“Who is this?”
“This is dad.”
“Oh. Alex. Okay. Come home. I love you.” (click.)
He’s left the phone again. Okay. I’ll leave this alone.
Tia tells me later in the day he’s had a few bouts of aggression. I think that’s better than all day, so he’s getting some stuffed animals back.
