One Thousand Words

I tell people my kid is weird and they either look at me funny and TOTALLY JUDGE ME or they laugh and mentally high five me. Really, pretty much ALL three year olds are weird, but mine is gloriously so. And I enjoy it! I enjoy weirdos and am one myself so, whatever.

One of Niko’s tetkas (aunts) traveled to Canada a while ago and brought him back a little stuffed moose with a red knit sweater that says “Canada” on it. Niko, cleverboots that he is, named the moose Canada. Canada the moose. Canadians, if it makes you feel any better, every single elephant he has is named Carl. ANYWAY, he recently discovered that Canada’s sweater is removable and it’s sized to fit beanie babies.

So his beanie babies (kissy bear, baba bear, tata kitty, mama otter, and EW SKUNK EW GROSSSSSSSSSS; CJ the dog, C the dog, J the dog, and Delilah the dog (he’s named them after dogs he knows, CJ and Delilah); Falcon Bernouli the goat and Edward Thomas the groundhog; they all get into fights over who is going to wear the sweater and who is going to be naked.

It’s like someone ate the forbidden fruit and now they know nakedness. And sin. And there is only one sweater to go around and cover their shame! So he sets them up and he has these little voices for them, and they argue over who is going to wear the sweater (only he calls it a shirt and he can’t say “sh” well so it’s a sirt) and why. They have VOCAL TICS, for crying out loud (albeit not very subtle ones: Canada brackets his statements with a sing-songy “I’m a moose, I’m a moose, I’m a moose, I’m a moose!”) At one point, Canada was saying “Kissy Bear you have my sirt and my pants! Oh no wait nobody has pants. You have my sirt! I am naked without my sirt. I’m a moose I’m a moose I’m a moose I’m a moose!” You have to admire his commitment. Canada breaks into identity-related song and dance constantly.

His stuffed animals tell jokes and they have specialty jokes. He sets them up and has them tell jokes. And laugh. And they fall over laughing.

I just… ok.

He’s three, right? And three year olds can be huge assholes. I think we’re all in agreement there. But they can also be FUCKING HILARIOUS and oh my GOD this is such a great age. And if I didn’t have carpal tunnel and arthritis and a complete inability to follow directions I would knit a bunch of tiny beanie baby sized sweaters so everyone could be clothed and the falsetto plush bickering could stop.

Technorati Tags: beanie babies, imaginary friends, imaginary play, parenting, toddler

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Yonks ago, before I had a kid, before I was married, back when I lived near the always-foul-smelling Morse stop on the red line (seriously, every single time I walked past it some dude was urinating on the wall of the building like urine alone was keeping the station standing), I got sick.

I was low-key miserable. You know how it is. Tired, cranky, full body ache, scratchy throat, listless, vaguely nauseated, my upper lip a snot trough. Nesko went to the store to pick up canned chicken soup, crackers, ginger ale, drugs, and Martha Stewart Living magazine all of which are vital to my recovery process. He kept calling to check in and see if I wanted/needed anything else. I added coke, frozen pizza, and popsicles to my list. He called again. I started teasing him with stuff stores don’t carry. I said I needed an elephant.

He came home with my groceries, AND some flowers, AND a stuffed elephant. Because he is the best.

That elephant has had a special place in my life ever since.

Niko hasn’t really used a lovey until recently. Sure, he uses a pacifier when he’s sleeping, or feeling ill, or getting jabbed again and again with sharp needles at the doctor’s office because I delight in his suffering. But he hasn’t really had a comfort object.

And then, somehow, out of all the stuffed animals and blankets and sharp pointy trains he has, he selected the elephant as his special lovey. He flirted a bit with a soft blanket, and with a baby doll, and with a length of wooden train track, but he settled on the elephant. At nap time, he protests that he NEEDS his EYAYINT. WHERE MY EYAYINT? I NEEEEEEEED IT he bellows, then he finds it and drags it back to bed by its trunk, singing a song. He settles in, nuzzling it. He tips its head back, trunk pointing up, while making elephant noises. Sometimes he brings his baby doll along for a ride.

I bought a copy of “Good Dog, Carl” at the thrift store. It’s a slightly mis-bound board book and Niko, who loves dogs and babies, really enjoys it. I checked “Carl’s Masquerade” out of the library about a week ago, and it’s in heavy rotation right now… read before every nap and bedtime and sometimes in between as well. Niko reads it to us, and reads it to his baby and his elephant. And then he decided that his elephant was named Carl, and Carl looks after Baby, and Baby rides on Carl.

So he sits on the floor and prop his baby doll, Baby, up on Carl the Elephant’s back and trots them around. When he goes looking for his elephant, he reminds me that HE NAME CARL. And when he goes to sleep now, Carl and Baby snuggle in with him.

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So, Nikola apparently has an imaginary friend.

His imaginary friend is sometimes named Boy or Roy, and is a Pretty Kitty. He is a RED Pretty Kitty.

He likes the following:

Watching Meerkats
Eating Fruit Snacks
Eating Fruit Snacks With Meerkats
Going In Tunnels
Eating Bananas
Eating Bananas With Too Many Monkeys
Riding Trains
Playing With Trains
Playing With Blocks
Butterflies
Taking a Bath

He also likes playing “Rusty and the Boulder” which, coincidentally (and like everything else on the list) is something that Nikola also likes. “Rusty and the Boulder” is a game based on the Thomas and Friends episode “Rusty and the Boulder,” and consists of Niko making a very long train on his wooden train track (or lining up a bunch of stuff on the floor to make a train) and then saying OH NO! BOULDER! while he rolls a ball toward the train and knocks everything around.

He will do this for hours.

In other news, we thought we had a mattress for Nikola’s “big boy bed” so instead of getting a toddler bed, we bought an actual bed (from IKEA), only to find out that 1) the mattress was extra long (even though more than one person measured it and thought it was normal length!) and 2) someone else (a family member) had “dibs” on it. So now we have a bed and sheets even, but no mattress. We bought one, and it’ll be delivered tomorrow. Niko loves his bed so far, though, especially because he can drop things between the wooden slats that will eventually support the mattress, then open up the storage drawers to retrieve the things dropped through. Fun times!

His sheets are Thomas sheets. He even has a Thomas comforter. Spoiled? What?

In actuality, this is STRATEGY. We’re hoping that the allure of A! New! Bed! (with fun drawers!) and Thomas! Sheets! (we let him pick between those or “red car” (lightning mcqueen) sheets) will make sleeping in his own bed something to look forward to, and maybe I won’t get kicked in the head quite as much all night going forward. Maybe Pretty Kitty can help us out.

Technorati Tags: child care, imaginary friends, parenting, sleep, toddler

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