Once upon a time. . .
Our bedtime routine has expanded beyond the book. Each night after we read a small bit of personal library, whoever Logan has deemed storyteller for the evening must compose an original piece of literature on demand. When we're done with our tale, Logan shares one of his masterpieces. In the past they've been non-sensical and more about him him twirling around in excitment. Recently they're starting to get well thought out and original -- like tonight's.
We had just flipped the calendar to November and as is our custom, we reviewed the important days of the month. I decided to make my improptu tale a little over-simplied history lesson. A group of people decide they don't want to live in England any more so they pile into boats and they sail across the big ocean. I have a lapse where I forget to be politically correct and I refer to Indians as opposed to Native Americans. I wrap up our story with a big party to celebrate a great harvest. And voila! We have Thanksgiving. Logan claps polietly and takes the helm:
"Once upon a time there were a bunch of Indians. They decided to go in some boats and ride for a really long time across the water. They sail and sail and then they crash into rocks! And crash into rocks. And crash, and crash, and crash. And then crash into some more rocks. Then they get out and they climb up a really, really, really big tower. They climb all the way up into outerspace and they get out on Pluto. Then they walk around and collect some rocks before they climb all the way down, down, down, down back onto their boats. They ride the boats over the water to home and they have a party and say thank you. The End."
Preschool Stand-up
Doctor said he was giving Logan an antibiotic for his ear infection. "And it actually tastes good too!" he said encouragingly.
"No it doesn't!" said Logan quite loudly. "My ear is not dinner!" Then he grinned and giggled.
--
Daddy, a Giants fan, said, "Tell Mommy what your favorite football team is."
Logan said, "Cowboys!"
Mommy, also a Giants fan, asked why he picked the Cowboys.
Logan said "Because they win."
--
Logan sat with a one big toy ad disguised as a magazine of hot items for the holidays. He was circling things he might want for Christmas - in other words, he was circling every page.
Mommy said, "Logan, that's not for you. See, it says right here, you need to be at least 8 years old to get that."
Logan didn't even miss a beat, "Ok, well then I want it for my 8-year old birthday."
He wanted to go for a hike. I reminded him that he was going to walk with me in the
CROP Walk today. I explained to him that people had sponsored us, given money, if we promised to walk. So this afternoon we'd turn in our money and walk. He wanted to know where the money would go. I told him it would be used to help people that were hungry and couldn't afford food. I told him that it might help people in some places build a farm. A bit simplistic of an explanation, but the boy is only 3.
We pulled into Church this morning and Logan got excited. He clapped and said "Are we going to the CRAB walk now?"
"Logan, honey, its CROP."
As we left church we told Grandma and Papa about Logan's mistake - crab for crop.
"How do you walk like a crab?" asked Grandma.
So he showed her. He hunched down a bit. He pulled his elbows in, his forearms out and he pinched his fingers to his thumbs repeatedly.
He urged me to bring the umbrella-stroller "in case I get tired." He encouraged me to pack him his Thomas "canteen" of water. He agreed to wear a baseball cap. Safely on our way in the van, Logan asked me where the hungry people lived. I told him that the people helped by the money we and everyone else were raising today lived all over the world. I told him 'his' money might go to Africa. It might go to a local food bank.
"Do you remember the pictures of that very big hurricane?" I asked him. He had seen the satellite images of Katrina and Rita on the Weather Channel at one point. He had seen pictures of the flooding there too. He nodded in the backseat and then remembering that I can't hear a head moving (we don't remind him about my spy mirror) he said yes softly.
"Well some of the money from walks like this went to help the people that were effected by that bad hurricane," I told him.
"Where do they live?" he asked. "What state?" I told him the names of the states. He sat quietly for a block length. Then he said "My money is going to build a farm in Louisana." I told him I was proud of him and his farm.
We got there early. We signed in and placed our stickers on our shirts. The music was blasting already. Entertainment before and after the walk as usual. Logan held out his left arm. He tapping on it with the fingers of his right hand.
I giggled. "What are you doing, cutie?"
He grinned. "I'm playing guitar!" Then he danced. He danced his little preschool butt off. He danced in the midst of a growing crowd that would pass him by and mutter about how adorable he was. He played his version of the air guitar. He had a blast.
When the welcome and prayer was done, we walked. He started out walking. He went the first few yards doing his crab walk and giggling about it. "See, I can crab walk at the CROP walk!" he told me.
A 1/4 mile in he asked for his water. "Excercising makes me thirsty," he explained. I pulled us over to the side of someone's lawn letting the other walkers pass us. I dug in my bag for his cup. I remembered that Logan can't walk and drink at the same time. He meanders and drinks. I told him to sit in the empty stroller I'd been pushing along while he drank. He never got out of it again. Well that's not true, he'd get out if we hit a corner with a curb I couldn't ease him down without popping him out. Then, the moment we hit the other side of the street, he was climbing back in.
It didn't matter though. We had a nice time walking - just the two of us. We talked. We admired the Halloween decorations. We completed our two-mile tour with a few high-fives (between ourselves and others) and a big plastic cup of water.
As we drove on to our post-walk errands, Logan sighed deeply. "I had a great time," he told me. "Can we do the CROP walk next week?" I told him no but we could next year. He replied with "But I want to build more farms!"
Gosh, I'm so proud of him.
Verbal inventions and stuff
The English language can be a hard nut to crack. There are concepts, for example, that seem to make sense, only as sensical as they may be, they are still wrong. Logan, as a verbose yet still young speaker, sometimes stumbles into this type of thing. These little nuances to his speech make me smile. I know that sooner, rather than later, he'll outgrow it. Just as he has so many of his other verbal idiosyncrasies. Last year Christmas lights really were Christmas lights and not "Santa Lights" as they were when he was 17 months old - something I think he adopted in order to avoid trying to pronounce "Christmas."
He's adopted another little personal adaptation to our language. I get why he does it and I find it incredibly endearing. Here it is used within it's original context:
"I don't want to read that book tonight. We read that yesternight."
----
Sometimes he latches onto something that he thinks he gets, only he doesn't completely. When I'm done either stifling a laugh or chuckling out loud as I say "Logan, you crack me up!", I try to gently correct his mistake. Of course sometimes, like tonight, I end up throwing my hands in the air and writing it off as a lost cause that will at least make good blog fodder.
Here's what I mean:
We were driving home from Grandma and Papa's house tonight. As has become a recent habit, we detoured a block from home to see some of the inflatable Halloween directions. It was dark already and so I knew that the Winnie the Pooh and Tigger decorations that had been deflated when we passed at twilight a few days ago would indeed be up today. I told Logan this and he told me I was wrong, they weren't up. He knew.
"I bet you a nickel for your piggy bank those decorations are up!" I said.
"No, its not a nickel, it's a dime." he told me.
Ok fine, I think, apparently he's learned the art of negotiation. Perhaps I should bring him with me to discuss a raise at the office. "A dime, huh? Ok, if you're wrong you owe me a dime. If I'm wrong, I owe you a dime."
He laughed heartily. "Silly Mommy! That's not how it goes. If I'm right and the decorations are down, I get a dime. If you're right and they're up I get a nickel."
Nice logic there kiddo. So I correct him. No, that's not how a bet works. If it's up I win the dime! If I'm wrong, you get the dime. He gave me the typical "Why?" I did my best to explain and by the time I had finished we were slowing to a crawl in front of the (Yes indeed!) inflated Winnie and Tigger.
"See?!" I said.
Megan yelled "Yay! Bear!" She clapped happily.
Logan giggled. "Yay! I win! I get a nickel!"
I give up.
Photos like these
As a parent who has also been a child/teenager/young adult you realize there are certain things throughout one's early years that can be used as blackmail in the future should you elect to use such tactics.
In some cases, blackmail becomes photos like this:
In the news. . .
Logan made the paper when the Asbury Park Press came out to do a story on his preschool!
