When he grows up

Me: Are you going to marry a nice girl when you grow up?
Elijah: No, I'm going to marry my brown doggy.
Me: Oh, are you and doggy going to have babies?
Elijah: Yes.
Me: What kind of babies? Boys and girls? Or doggies?
Elijah: Elephants.
Me: What kind of elephants?
Elijah: Blue and green and white elephants.

Double trouble

When Elijah was first born, I remember proudly parading him around the neighborhood in his little black pram. Strangers would smile approvingly as we passed, and I would feel the teensiest bit sorry for other parents. Their kids were cute, but Elijah was gorgeous! Ok, fine, I still think Elijah is gorgeous, and I still assume those looks are pure admiration and unrelated to our sidewalk monopolizing tendencies. Last week's ratio of "what a cute kid" to "get out of my way" was the highest on record. I was watching my friend's son Peter and the two toe-heads certainly attracted attention. Peter and Elijah are just over a year apart, and I think a lot of those smiles were the "better you than me" kind. We stopped by Stella's for brunch, and the parents at the table beside us look visibly relieved when I explained that both children were not mine. As for onlookers encountered on our walk, I just beamed at anyone who looked our way. It felt like a ruse, but that was part of the fun.

Two in October

With Elijah's second birthday around the corner, I am starting to garner odd looks when I report his age in months. As any parent of a toddler can tell you, the diffence between 1 1/2 and 2 is a big one. That said, I suppose it is just as well to say "he'll be two in October." It seems to limit the confusion and it's fun to start thinking about his upcoming birthday! I've yet to make party plans, but I'm considering a Halloween theme this year. October 30th is a perfect birthday. His birthday bashes won't be perpetually interupted by tricker-treaters, but he'll always have an excuse to throw a kick-ass costume party.

Now that Elijah is almost two, he is starting to use two (and three!) word sentences. The first and third word are invariably "more" and "please." Our days are peppered with sweet requests. "More cheese please?" and "More book please?" His earnest "thank you" makes me melt. He recently started to repeat me when I say, "I love you." Just precious. Elijah's mastery of multisyllabic words is also coming along. Some of my favorites include "underdog," "bicycle" and "butterfly."

Elijah and Sabba

Elijah loves to sing and some of his favorite songs include "B-I-N-G-O," "Twinkle-twinkle" and the "Sha-na-na-na" goodbye song. He continues to enjoy the "Sh'ma" and doesn't hesitate to belt it out at random times throughout the day.

Elijah and Jacob make funny faces

Garbage is of particular interest to Elijah. He has always been the investigative type, searching about for small objects and presenting them to me with bright eyes. He has recently come to realize that some of his discoveries are fated for the nearest trash receptacle, and he is eager to help them achieve their destiny. I'm impressed at how accurately he is able to discern what is actually garbage. During a recent walk to the park, he recruited another little boy to pick up all the bottle-tops, paper-scraps and other unsavory objects in sight. Despite an abundance of rocks, sticks, bark and other plant-matter, he never did throw away something that belonged outside. Pretty clever little guy.

I don't know how this didn't come up before, but I must mention Elijah's love of stuffed animals. For his first year and half, they were of little (if any) interest, but Elijah is now very tight with his posse of fuzzy critters. It is not uncommon to see Elijah walking around the house with 4+ animals somehow stuffed between his little arms. His favorites are Blue Doggy aka Doggy (pictured above with Elijah and Karen) and Blue Hippo aka Hop-oh. If they aren't in his crib at bed/naptime, he is sure to request them. He then gives them a big hug before curling up to sleep. I love to peek into his room and watch him snuggled up with a stuffy to his chest. So far, he has been very cooperative about letting them "take a nap" in his crib whenever we leave the house. Am hoping he'll continue to go along with this; otherwise I'll have to consider embedding them with some sort of GPS device.

Tasty little morsel

When Elijah is hungry, I'm happy. Today was a happy day. After polishing off a hearty portion of salmon and fried cauliflower, he peered up from his high chair longingly. His index fingers pressed to his thumbs and his hands anxiously tapped together. "More!? More?!" he pleaded. I gleefully obliged.
When Elijah was a newborn, I couldn't wait to cook for him. I'd see magazine articles about picky-eating toddlers and flip right past them. I was certain that any child of mine would love to eat, especially vegetables. The greener the better. Elijah has since taught me otherwise. Meal times are his opportunity to show me who is boss. Luke warm food is admonished, "Hot! Hot!" If something is not to his liking, he slowly squishes it out of his mouth and then smirks. Anything resembling bread is deemed "Challah!" and readily stuffed into his mouth. Sometimes he refuses to eat altogether. Sometimes he wildly rubs his hands across the tray and sends everything flying. And how he loves his bottle. Though somewhat proficient at drinking from a 'real' cup, he prefers the bottle and hates the sippy cup. He disdainfully pushes it away and demands"Bak! Bak!" (his short-hand way of saying 'bottle' in Hebrew).

Elijah's first phrase was, "All-done! All-done!" Until recently, he would often announce it after eating a bite or two. Thankfully, his appetite has vastly improved in the past weeks. If Elijah could choose his own menu, he'd probably start with a salad of ripe avocado, ruby red grapefruit and a squirt of lime. He'd follow with cubes of tofu, dotted with ketchup and served alongside grilled salmon and chunks of mango. For dessert, he'd have frozen blueberries, several helpings to be sure. Elijah has been a fan of frozen cherries and strawberries for some time, but the blue morsels are a recent and wonderful discovery. After eating them, he has a delightful blue beard and purplish grime under his finger nails for the rest of the day.

Though Elijah is now eating more, "All-done" remains a favorite refrain. Anything that is not to his liking is met with the same protest. Take too long to change his diaper, "All-done!" Strap him into the stroller, "All-done!" A family member was recently playing with him, when he abruptly announced "All-done!" and walked away.

Sunshine Playlot

Before Elijah was born, I used wonder about the merits

of raising a child in the city. Kid-friendly urban adventures abound, but how could I deprive a curious toddler of his own backyard? I stopped worrying about that. Chicago is teaming with amazing parks. There are the green sprawling types, perfect for watching dogs play fetch. There are the tiny playlots, often tucked away in the neighborhoods and convenient for quick rides down the slide. And then, there everything in between. We are lucky enough to be walking distance from 9 or 10 different playgrounds. Of them all, my favorite is the Sunshine Playlot. The playground equipment is the wood kind I grew up with, and Elijah finds the woodchips endlessly entertaining. There is a sand box too, but I am embarassed to admit that I've yet to introduce Elijah to it. In addition to the regular picnic tables, there is even one of those tables with a checkboard painted on top.

Upon entering the park, one is welcomed by a twirling, yellow brick road painted on the pavement. The big, old trees provide just the right amount of shade, and there are always plenty of leaves to pile up in the fall.

The playlot sits at the far north end of the Lincoln Park. There is a big field on one side and the beautiful North Pond at the other. The park district has been restoring the prairie around the pond, and it is an excellent place to bird watch. Just the other day, we saw 3 kinds of ducks, geese and the first red-winged blackbird of the year. Nestled in tree trunk, we saw some goose eggs too. Apparently they'd been abandoned or brushed over with oil by the park service. The goose population has swelled in the past years and this is one way the park service has been trying to keep the gosling numbers down.

Some kids like to climb and run at the park. Elijah's prefers the sticks and leaves.

Elijah and Auntie (check out the skyline)

Together at the park

Making people cry

A few days back, Elijah and I went to check out Fantasy Kingdom with friends Clarissa and Adin. There's a big, open area for Elijah to practice his newly acquired walking skills, cars to drive, slides to plummet down, dress up, a castle, need I go on? On our way to the car, Clarissa and I decided to check out the cool-looking furniture store which adjoins the Kingdom. Upon entering, the saleswoman regarded us as one might regard a hair in their lobster bisque. "Can I help you?" she asked coolly. "Just looking," I said. She didn't reply, but her face said it all. "Well obviously you're not here to buy anything. I thought you might be looking for directions to the kiddie place next door. You want to look around? Fine, it's not like I can call the cops on you for the messy ponytail and Old Navy hoodie. Just don't let those sticky-looking children touch a thing. Better yet, you may want to tie them up to the bike rack in front."

So we circled the store, Adin obediently holding Clarissa's hand, Elijah on my hip and neither child making so much as a peep. When we were about to leave, the saleswoman again looked up from her desk, "Are you looking for furniture?" she said in disbelief. It was simply inconceivable that we would have any interest in or ability to afford anything in the store. And so I calmly repeated again, "Just looking." She looked back down at her desk as if to say, "Ok, but I really don't get what you're trying to prove here. Next time, I suggest you try that IKEA place and stop wasting everyone's time."

As I drove home, I found myself feeling, well… angry. How dare a complete stranger insult me, my friend and our darling children? I dialed 411 and asked to be connected to @&#*@&. A familiar voice answered.

"May I please speak to a manager?" I requested smoothly.
"How might I help you?" she replied.

"May I please speak with a manager?" I repeated.
"Can I help you?"
"Are you a manager?"
"I am one of the owners," she said.
"Excellent. My husband and I are redoing a few rooms in our house and our designer suggested that we take a look at your store," I lied. "Well, I wanted to just let you know that I won't be purchasing anything because the service was extremely rude."
"When were you here?" she asked.
"Just five minutes ago with my son," I said, anxiously awaiting her reply.

"I am sorry I didn't talk to you more" she said with surprising sincerity. "I, uh. All I can explain is that I am going to Vietnam to adopt a baby next week and I am very busy with everything right now." So, she's adopting a baby. Isn't that all the more reason she should be nice to people with kids?
"Well congratulations on your adoption, but I am not getting anything at your store and I'll be telling our designer about this. I certainly hope people don't treat you the same way when you have children."
"I am really sorry, I am so sorry," she said, starting to sound choked up. I couldn't believe it, was she actually starting to cry?
"Fine," I said. "Goodbye."

I don't typically enjoy making people cry. But I'll be honest, it kind of felt good. Besides, I like to think I did the woman a favor. It's never too late to learn the golden rule.

The truth about soup and hotdogs

It's been three weeks of a meal time warfare, and I am starting to wonder if Elijah is really mine. I know that kids are notoriously picky eaters, but the hunger strike is a developmental milestone I could do without. Of late, the only successful tactic has been to occupy him with something particularly fun while I covertly slip spoonfulls of food into his mouth. Yesterday I gave him a bottle of vitamins to try and open (he did). A few days ago I gave him the yellow-ceramic-chicken salt shaker he's always eyeing (he emptied the entire thing). I tell him, "Elijah you are stubborn. Stub-born!!" He appears to take it as a compliment.

Today, however, things took a turn. I was attempting to resurrect some old family recipes - stuffed cabbage and apple cake. Elijah was on the floor happily 'cooking' with some tupperware. Ever once and a while, he would lift up his arms and say "up" at which point I would scoop him onto my hip and let him 'help.' It was an idealized version of our normal evening routine, all warm and cozy.

When it came time to get Elijah's dinner ready, I decided to try something new, a veggie dog. It was then that a long-forgotten food memory came to mind, hotdogs and split pea soup. When I was growing up, my mom used to put slices of hotdog in our split pea soup. I've been a vegetarian for most of my life, but the thought of it made me smile. I dug out a can of split pea soup, corraled Elijah in his highchair and watched on as he picked up his first little chunk of hotdog. I quietly beamed as gobbled it up and went to eat some more. I contemplated skipping the soup. What if he spits it all over the place and spoils my little victory? But I was so excited about the idea of him eating hotdogs and split pea soup that I couldn't resist. He didn't seem impressed with the first spoonful, but he swallowed and opened up for more. Maybe it was a fluke, maybe it was the smells of vinegary cabbage and baking cake, but for one nostalgic evening we had a truce.