that time of year...

It might look like a little too much insulation, but she loved it. It was -1 this morning, so thought I'd better break out the heavy duty winter gear. She's been so fussy in the carriage the past couple days, but fell asleep today - guess she was just cold! Ooops! John's been in hats and mitts and winter coat for some time, because they play outside at school. But he'll need a new pair of boots - the ones from last year are at least two sizes too small.

The teacher pulled me aside again today. They're trying to find ways to motivate John to walk while on little voyages through the neighbourhood. Apparently, he tends to sit on the pavement and refuse to move - so they wind up carrying him, which is of course exactly what he's after. I gave them a couple of ideas of things that I do to keep him moving, and remembered a few more later - I'll have to pass them on tomorrow. Mostly, I suggested to keep dangling carrots in front of him, like "Hey, let's go check out that cool thing over there!" I do a lot of that. It's been easy with Halloween, because we've been hunting for decorations. But Halloween was a while back, now. It's hard to keep a kid motivated to move when there's nothing to see but decaying pumpkins. Some of my tactics wouldn't work - sometimes, we go "choose your own adventure" style, where John gets to choose the path home. He has a very good sense of direction. He always gets us home. We often play hide and seek on the way home. Probably not the greatest idea with nine three-year-olds. But he's made up a game which is essentially red light, green light, which all the kids might find fun, and he likes to pretend to be different animals out for a walk, which they might like, too. I also just leave him behind sometimes. It's a great motivator. But again, probably not the greatest plan with nine kids. And actually, not the greatest plan with John for much longer, either, I think. He's started calling my bluff. We have a sub shop on our way home, and sometimes he likes to stop in, and split a meatball sub and a chocolate milk. He calls it the meatball sandwich store. I let him order, and pay, and then we sit down and have lunch, while we talk about his morning at school. It has big windows, so we can watch diggers and buses and garbage trucks and ambulances and stuff go by, and it's a hopping place, so he gets to watch all of the people coming and going, too. It's cheap, so a lot of workers and cabbies stop there for lunch, so he talks about their cabs and tool belts and big trucks, and lots of them wear boots like dad's. He thinks it's a lot of fun. Well, one day, he wanted to go, but it was raining and cold, so I wanted to go home. So, I said no. Well, he pulled a tantrum, so I kept walking, thinking he would follow me, as usual, only to find him heading the opposite direction, towards the meatball sandwich store! He was totally prepared to go by himself. But it was across the busiest street in town, and I had visions of him getting schmucked. So, I'm ashamed to say, I gave in, and we had lunch at the meatball sandwich store.

Every now and then, he likes to go to convenience stores, too. But I think he goes less for the stuff, and more for the interaction. He's allowed to pick one little treat, like a sucker - if he wants two things, he has to choose between them - and I always get him to go through the sale himself. He puts it on the counter, and pays the money, and takes the change, and says than you, and carries the little bag. John really enjoys it, and the clerks get a kick out of it, too. He never asks for very much - it's always gum, or a chocolate bar or something small, so I don't mind giving in now and then. I think it's a valuable life experience type thing. If both Mike and I drop dead one day, he'll know how to buy chocolate bars all by himself.

His teacher said he's very intelligent and creative and also a very independent thinker, which are all excellent traits, she said. And she said he learns very well, because while the other kids are rushing to try something new, he's hanging back. But it's not that he's shy or nervous - he's actually listening to the instructions. Then he'll go ahead, and know exactly what to do, while the other kids flounder a bit, because he took that time to learn first. She said it's an amazing thing to see. I find that at home too. If we find a new game, I just have to play it once in front of him, and he's got it down. She said he reminds her a lot of her own son, who was very much his own little person. "He's a kid after my own heart," she said. She said the other kids are her little "yes men" and do everything they're told, which is nice and cute, but she loves kids like John who have minds of their own, and aren't afraid to use them. It was a nice conversation. I can tell by watching him with the rest of the class that he's different from his peers, but it was nice to be told that that difference is actually a good quality. It made me feel a lot better.

Here's a few John anecdotes from the last few days, for your amusement:

The tooth fairy is a predominant figure in preschool TV and books. But John doesn't quite understand the full meaning, beyond the knowlwdge that money and the taking of things is involved when you lose a tooth. Last night, he pulled some piece of food goo out of his mouth. He assumed that must be a tooth, and put it under his pillow, pronouncing that it would change into coin overnight, and then the tooth fairy would come and take the coin, and "put it with all her other shiny things; gold, coins, diamonds, everything! away in her tunnel." I didn't correct him. This could save me a lot of money down the road.

Joan is of course still in that stage where everything goes in her mouth, which is running parallel to a phone obsession. As a result, phones are winding up in her mouth. John saw her do this yesterday, and promptly took the phone away, pronouncing "That not food, Baby! That's a telephone!" I told him that when he was Joan's age, he used to eat telephones, too, to which he folded his arms, stuck his nose in the air and replied "No, Mom. I eat lunch."

A couple of days ago, there was a bit of construction going on along our path home. A couple of guys and a digger were taking down an old bus shelter. John was transfixed, and wanted to watch for a while, so we did. One of the guys took a real shine to John, and kept coming up to talk to him, explaining step-by-step what they were doing and why, which was a really nice thing for him to do, I thought. After a while, John turned to me and said "I want to be a construction worker when I grow up! I want to drive a digger and be really dirty."

"You do?" I asked.

"Why not?" said John, shrugging his shoulders.

The worker was close enough to hear John say it. He started to laugh, and said "Kid, you should try to be something better than this."

John has not been put off, however. It's been two days, and he STILL wants to be a construction worker when he grows up. (Why not?)

Anyway, better go. I think Joan just pooped.