The great outdoors

Backyard beast

4 Summers

Each summer we reap the rewards of living in this climate when the world turns lush and green.  We have spent many a barefoot hour in the yard searching for worms or salamanders (we caught and temporarily housed an Eastern red spotted newt) and romping about.

Ro took his first self-powered hike of almost three miles down one of our favorite trails last weekend, and we took a brief detour to visit the log at the entrance to the trail by our old house.  In four summers, Ro has transformed from a baby to a boy (July 2010-2013)!

Brain spurt
Sometimes days pass one by one and it's as if none of us (grownups especially) are getting older.  Other times it's clear that something big is happening: a growth spurt, or a brain spurt.  Ronan is in a brain spurt.  

We noticed it earlier this month when we stopped being able to use big words around him without getting interrupted.  He wanted to know what each word meant, and how to use it.  What does "mosy" mean?  Diagonal? He also asked about Slumber, Injury, Diurnal, Disagree, Stalking, Archeology, and dozens I don't recall.  What most surprises me is when he retains them, correctly using the words nocturnal, eventually, and trilobite in daily speech.

Then he started adding numbers, fairly unprompted.  Over the monitor I hear him ask his dad for numbers to add, and as he adds each pair he announces his conclusion as if in a spelling bee: "two plus two equals four."  That first night in late May he also added 2+3, 1+3, and 3+4.  He's started getting into minus, but it's clearly a bit trickier.  He regularly counts up to 37, stops, then tells me that's how old I am, which is WAY WAY older than he is.  

Letters are less interesting, or at least he still shows no interest in writing them.  He does occasionally try to spell things, for example he told me that the way to spell "Moo" is M, zero, zero.  He's been able to spell Ronan, Mama, Dada, Josie, and a few other things for months.

Temper(ament):
This age is challenging, as in we are constantly being challenged by Ronan.  Almost anything suggested by a grownup is met with disdain out of some sort of toddler principle: thou shalt not agree with thine elders unless it involves getting sugar.  If I want to listen to music in the car I have to let it come on and then turn it off so that it is Ro's idea that we turn it back on.  If I skip a track, it is sure to be requested.  I have been conditioned by my toddler that any initiation of an action on my part (turning on the music for example) will instantly be met with an opposing edict.  And why do we become such pushovers to these little tyrants?  Because with 300 potential battles a day, we need to win the ones that involve leaving the house wearing clothing and brushing teeth before bedtime.

Perhaps as part of all this challenging, negotiation has become big.  At one daycare pickup I offered to wait for an extra trike loop around the yard.  How about 5 more?  Ronan asked.  How about 4 more?  When that didn't work, he went to three, then sensing that two would be insufficient victory, he went back to 5.  It is fascinating to see which human behaviors require no instruction.  Who knew lawyerly bargaining would be one (besides, you know, any of you who have done this before).

In that vein, it's interesting to note that a natural competitive streak is emerging.  Winning is important and it almost doesn't matter what the winning is about.  I'm the best water pourer.  I got to the planter first.  We both won.  Recently Ro declared "I love Indian food more than you."  I tried to coax out that what he meant was that he loves it more than I do (doubtful at best) but he remained staunch in his phrasing and the potential that mom ranks below Indian cuisine.  

It remains important to save face: "I knowed that already".   And a desire to never be involuntarily alone: "mama, I want you to stay here and never ever leave."  Or  "We aren't going to die for a long long time.  Maybe 50 years.  And you are not ever going to die before me."  Sigh. 

Fundamental aspects of human nature are laid bare in toddlers.  I feel like this all helps me understand grownups a little better.

Separations

Playing records at school

We've had a few really terrible daycare dropoffs this month, especially on mornings when Ro's best friend was out of town.  We've started to ease the transition by reading a book each day as a ritual, and Ro has become reflective about the whole thing.  He knows that if he gets sad when we're gone he can look in the "family book" to see pictures, and he sometimes likes other reminders of home as well.  One morning he declared that his dad and I needed matching Dora bandaids to his, in case we started to miss him while at work (then we could each look at our bandaid and think of Ronan).  Other kids in the class have been a big help.  A. regularly declares that her mommy is a plastic surgeon who works in the hospital.  One morning S. came over to say:  "Ronan, let's go play!  It's OK that your dad has to go.  He has to go to work.  You know he's gonna come back, right?  Yeah, it's OK.  Let's play because we're friends!"  

S and Ro have become fast friends in recent weeks, between a shared music class, trips to their house, and J's absence.  It's a relief to see him branching out, and fun for us too. 

Recent photos

Quotes

R: I don't need to be teached anything.  I knew that.  When I was a baby, I already knew more things than you did.

[Listening to Phish]

That song mom put on is very nice for me

R: Do you know why I don't want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?

D: Why?

R: Because after I wanna hug mama.  And she can't touch peanuts.

R: Dada, you need a matching bandaid too, for if you have hard goodbyes.

R: This is my painting of a bear.  It eats babies.  But not real babies, just pretend babies.  Because paintings don't have mouths. 

On the climber