Gonna Rock Down to Spadina Avenue

We just (well, two days ago) got back from a quick jaunt to Toronto to celebrate our seventh wedding anniversary.  In our pre-Ben days, Neil and I were in the habit of taking a little trip each year for our anniversary, but we took a little hiatus from that in Ben's early years.  This year we decided to take it up again, and we all had a great time.  We drove up after lunch on Saturday, got checked into the hotel in the late afternoon, and then hung out for a little before heading out for a nice Indian meal.  We spent much of Sunday down at Harborfront Center (sorry -- "Harbourfront Centre") enjoying a kid-oriented circus festival.  After nap, we took a very nice walk along College Street, meandering in and out of the U Toronto campus, and we ended up in Little Italy for dinner.  On Monday morning we went to the Royal Ontario Museum, which was great.  Ben was all primed to see dinosaurs, although he seemed a little disappointed that they only had skeletons on display, sans flesh, very unlike the colorful and talkative dinosaurs on Dinosaur Train.  He really enjoyed the display of minerals and rocks, and we got him some more rocks for his rock collection in the gift store.  He also had a great time "digging" for dinosaur bones using a wide paintbrush in a sandbox.  His Aunt Kathy will be proud.

The only serious trauma was trying to change his diaper in the restroom at the ROM.  He's had this thing for a few months now where he just freaks out when we change his diaper in a public restroom.  As soon as I try to lay him down, he siezes up with fear, red and shaking, and screams his lungs out.  It doesn't seem to be a behavior problem, or an attempt at manipulation; it's genuine terror.  And it's terribly inconvenient and embarrassing.  I'm usually able to distract and calm him with a story or song, but this time nothing worked.  As far as we can tell, he's afraid he's going to fall off -- never mind the fact that at home, on his own changing pad, he rolls and flips around like a fearless acrobat, so that we have to stay within arm's reach the entire time.  Anyway, there he was, beet-red and screaming bloody murder, and we're about to leave and get in the car and drive four hours home, so it's now or never for the diaper.  I tried everything -- distraction, talk-therapy, bribery, you name it -- and it was no go.  So I finally just plowed ahead, changed the darned thing, and tried to ignore all the people staring at me as if I were either a monster or the most incompetent parent they'd ever seen.  Oh, well -- can't win 'em all.

Happy Belated Flower Day and Mutlu YIllar!

Yesterday was special for at least two reasons.  For one, it was our first annual Flower Day.  Ben came up with this.  I was wearing a very old comfy tee shirt that my friend Carolyn got me umpteen billion years ago.  It used to have little fabric flowers that Carolyn had hand-stitched around the collar, very cute.  But they had fallen off one by one over the course of many years of laundry, and now only one lone flower remains, in the front and slightly off-center.  Ben looks at this and announces, "It's Flower Day!"  He went on to explain that on Flower Day, people give hugs, kisses, and back rubs, and this was followed by a quick demonstration.  All of this was entirely of his own invention.  Neil and I were practically dripping with delight.  We all engaged in the mandated rituals frequently throughout the remainder of the day.

Secondly, it was Fethiye's birthday.  Mutlu YIllar and much love, friend!

Another little tidbit from last week:  Ben at dinner said, "Tikki tikki tembo-no sa rembo-chari bari ruchi-pip peri pembo fell into the well!"  He got it all out perfectly the first time.  When he tried to say it again, he stumbled a bit, but still you gotta be impressed.  Ironically enough, he couldn't remember the name of Tikki Tikki's brother.

Serious Ukelele Riffs

Ben's Grampy and Cousin Megan recently made (yes, made) a beautiful ukelele for him.  He needed one.  Seriously -- he was turning everything into a guitar -- hair brushes, sticks, air.  He had played with a ukelele at a friend's house, and it was a perfect fit for him.  In a related development, we got him a new pair of sunglasses, since he had outgrown his old ones.  These developments are related as follows:

Here he is, performing for his legions of stuffed animal fans, and rocking out beautifully.  He also does a good Stevie Wonder impression at his "piano" (Thomas box; he does have a real piano at his disposal as well).  And the pose vaguely reminiscent of The Bangles "Walk Like an Egyptian" is actually his version of the PBS SteveSong about rockets in which Mr. Steve periodically sets his guitar aside to "blast off".

February and March

Here are Ben's calendars from February and March:

Toilet Training continues to be a central theme in our lives these days.  We still have to straighten out a few kinks in our system.  We've been doing "low-key" toilet training since last fall, meaning that we sit on the potty every night before bathtime, read a few books, and see what happens, but we've made no attempt yet to graduate from diapers.  And this was fine for awhile -- Ben enjoyed it, especially when he was successful and got to put a sticker on the potty, and everything was mellow and positive.  But he's starting to feel more and more performance anxiety, and Neil and I are engaged in a little research and strategizing right now, trying to come up with new tactics before anxiety turns to avoidance.  Fortunately our daycare provider is an expert at these things, and has managed to make considerable progress during daycare hours, but we're really starting to feel like we're spinning our wheels at home.  Anyway, you can see a reference on February 24th and a rather more explicit depiction on March 10th (Ben insisted that I draw him sitting on the potty, and this was honestly the best I could manage under the circumstances).

On Valentine's Day, Ben acquired a stuffed rabbit from my parents, and this is remarkable because it is the first stuffed animal or doll that he has attached a name to of his own volition.  For about 24 hours we were convinced that the rabbit's name was "Max Bund," which was delightfully creative and unexpected.  Then it became increasingly clear that the name was "Max Sponge," which is apparently short for "Max Spongebob."  This pleased us considerably less, but we're still amused that he chose the name for himself.  On February 27th, we got the cat's claws clipped at the groomer's, and yes we take her to a professional groomer because no sane person would attempt this potentially fatal act without due compensation.  Ben was quite impressed by the whole spectacle.  On the 28th, we forgot to get bananas when we were in the produce section, and Ben noticed this and brought it to our attention before we left the store.  He was very pleased with himself for having remembered the bananas.

Saturday, March 6, was a day that I will long cherish.  Students and faculty from our college's music program put on a series of children's concerts at the two local libraries.  They are fantastic, and Ben loves them.  The musicians talk about their instruments and the music, and it's all very hands-on and interactive.  At the March concert, a group of students were playing percussion instruments from Ghana, including a marimba-like instrument that had gourds hanging below the keys for additional resonance.  Afterward, Ben got to play this, and he was hammering out a fairly impressive little melody.  So the music student commented, "Hey, that kid's got a great ear!"  Not having noticed all the equipment, you see.  Delicious irony.  And I agreed, "Yeah, he's got a great ear, especially considering it's bionic," and I proceeded to explain that he's deaf and that he has access to sound through technology.  The guy's jaw dropped, and he was absolutely amazed.  I really felt like Ben had totally transformed this person's conception of what it means to be deaf.

For Spring Break (starting March 14) we visited Neil's parents in the Catskills and got a couple of days of skiing in.  Ben's favorite experience from this was getting to eat an orange every day in the lodge.  The one time we tried to put him on his skis, he protested loudly and vehemently.

On March 29th, Ben had an audiology appointment in Buffalo, and during one of the "listening games" he got to put a piece of cardboard "food" into the mouth of an animal every time he heard a sound.  Obviously one of the animals must have been an elephant.  At some point we told him a "Fiona and Emily" story in which their mother takes them to Buffalo to see Michelle Dube and play listening games, and this has now become his Most Favorite Story of All Time; he requests that we tell it several times a day.

The 30th was our fateful Seder at which Ben fell sick, and you can see that he visited the pediatrician the next day.  Here is our only good picture from the Seder, plus some from an Easter egg hunt at his friend Jackson's house a few days later.

And so she was ... and mighty tasty, too!

Ben's favorite movies are Mary Poppins, Yellow Submarine, and Free to Be.  Lately, Free to Be has topped the charts.  I grew up listening to the album, but never saw the made-for-TV movie until Ben's Aunt Kathy got him a DVD of it in January.  At first the 1974 ambiance is a little thick, but after a few viewings it develops a quirky, retro charm.  Ben's favorite song is probably "It's All Right to Cry," as performed by Rosey Grier; he can sing not only the words, but the instrumental portions as well.

We watched much of it tonight, the second time in a 24 hour period.  This is more movie-viewing than he usually gets, but he's sick, and we're real softies when he's sick.

Last night we hosted a seder for a couple of other families.  I was so excited -- we spent much of the weekend planning and shopping.  Our local grocery store ran out of matzah, so Neil made some Monday evening.  (Yes, after sundown.  We're not too finicky about the details.)  Brisket, vegetarian gefilte "fish", and all the usual suspects were on the table.  About half an hour after our guests arrived, Ben had a meltdown, and was completely inconsolable for the rest of the evening.  We'd never seen this before, at least not since he was a really young and somewhat volatile baby.  It was contagious, and the other kids at the table got progressively crankier as the evening wore on.  Ben's friend Etta asked the Four Questions, we did a few quick plagues, and after that it was pretty much a race to get food into the kids and distract them before all hell broke loose.  Not exactly the sedate celebration of cultural and family tradition that we'd hoped for.  (And yes, a quarter cup of bleach will take even a monster Manischewitz stain out of a white tablecloth.)

We were starting to suspect what the problem was, and when we finally took Ben's temperature after everyone left, it was over 102.  And over 103 this morning.  Poor kid was just miserable.  Of course, he picked the perfect time to get sick -- right during Advising Week, the busiest week of the semester.  (This is the second year in a row that he's done this.)  So Neil and I shuffled everything around today and managed to take turns staying at home with him today.  His temperature was still topping 100 tonight, so I have a feeling that I'll be cancelling classes tomorrow.  My students will be delighted.

Mixed Media

We introduced Ben to finger paints last fall.  It went fairly well.  He always enjoyed it once we got going, but he absolutely hated the make-shift smock that I insisted he wear (an old tee shirt of mine, and highly problematic for the purpose).  So recently I got him the absolute best smock of all time at A Better Bib.  And for an extra five bucks I got his name embroidered on the back.  I love this smock.  And if he had rejected this one, it would have seriously bummed me out.  I introduced it very carefully -- just left it casually draped across the coffee table ("Oh, what's this?  Hmm -- has your name on it.  Check it out -- it's got elephants!"), and I avoided the word "smock" like the plague.  It worked.  Here's Ben at work, and one of the finished products -- it's a mixed media work, finger paint applied with paintbrush and crayon tip.

One thing I can tell you

This morning, as Ben and I were headed upstairs after breakfast, I said to him, "One thing we're going to do is clip your fingernails."  He immediately launched into, "One thing I can tell you is you got to be free.  Come together (boom boom boom) right now (boom boom boom) over me."  This was followed by various sound effects intended to evoke Paul McCartney's famous bass line.  The boy loves his Beatles.

The other day Ben woke up Way Too Early from his nap, but as he was talking happily to himself I let him be and eavesdropped via the baby monitor.  "But whatever the reason, our hearts or our shoes, we stood there on Christmas Eve hating Fiona and Emily."  In case this sounds familiar, he was once again reciting a passage from How the Grinch Stole Christmas, this time translating it into the first person plural, and citing as the object of our loathing the teenage sisters Fiona and Emily who have found youtube fame with their excellent covers of Beatles songs.  (Yes, more Beatles.)  As a matter of fact, Ben loves Fiona and Emily.  He's always demanding that we tell him a Fiona and Emily story.  Typical story lines revolve around Fiona and Emily hosting a picnic (attended by Winnie the Pooh and friends, Sid the Science Kid, Bob Dylan, and -- naturally -- the Beatles themselves) or going to the moon in a rocket, accompanied by the same variegated crowd.