Now THAT's a block party.

I throw a mean block party, if I do say so myself. I can't take credit for the perfect weather - 72 degrees, light breeze, no bugs, blue skies - but I do take credit for postponing when the thunderstorms rolled in Saturday. We put a sign on the garage asking people to come back the next day and huddled inside, counting the many bags of hot dog and hamburger rolls.

Fotunately, Sunday dawned as previously described. Our neighbors were wonderful, hauling over tables and chairs. Chris started up the grill just in time for lunch and "Cheeseburger in Paradise" played as he flipped the burgers. We received six entries for our inaugural Pie Baking Contest, and I carefully placed the baker's names in security envelopes. After burgers and hot dogs, along with lots of salad and fruit, everyone was excited to try out the cotton candy machine. Chris became quite expert at whirling fluffy blue clouds and the kids demolished them quickly.

The early afternoon started with a bike parade around the block. I used the bullhorn to make sure everyone knew we were starting. Jonathan quickly ditched the tricycle for Olivia's motorized Gator and he and Alex drove around and around on the sidewalk for a good hour. The inflatable waterslide was also a huge hit. There were twenty kids climbing up and sliding down, over and over, as parents grinned and calculated exactly how long their tired children would sleep in the next morning.

Alex was too little for the waterslide, but enjoyed splashing in the puddles. He would periodically drift back to the tables for more food. Early on, I tried to police his intake, but after telling him "no more Tootsie Rolls" I found him with half a cherry Roll in his hand - paper still on. After that I let him loose. Jonathan would run over to bundle up in a towel for a minute, then run back for more sliding and Capture the Flag. The water balloon toss and free throw shootout were nice diversions.

Chris was a pie judge along with two other men from the neighborhood. They really enjoyed tasting each slice and the kids quickly demolished the remainders off their tasting plates. The Red White and Blue Pudding Pie won the rotating trophy rock and most of the pies were eaten quickly. Alex pulled up a chair and was carefully devouring a slice of Double Crumb Apple long after the rest of the kids were back on the slide.

Then we sat around for a few hours, drinking beer and sodas, chatting, and laughing at the kids. We'd go over to graze on salsa or watermelon now and then. The weather stayed perfect. Alex snookered most of the girls into pulling him around in the wagon and Jonathan got the older kids to pick him up for airplane rides and piggybacks.

When dinnertime rolled around, we realized we still had lots of food, so we started the grill and cotton candy machine going again. People who had left for a softball or soccer game came back to find we had barely moved. Alex found the leftover half of the winning pie, which was filled with fresh blueberries and strawberries, and stood on tiptoe to shovel it into his mouth, one handful at a time. We asked him what he was doing - he mumbled "Licious!" through a mouthful of pudding and kept eating until the pie pan was clean.

Everyone pitched in to clean up and we then moved next door for a bonfire. They had to go get a second bag of marshmallows when it was discovered that most of the first bag had disappeared down Jonathan's throat. The kids had a conga line and a dance party, and Jonathan climbed up on the deck railing to sit next to Drew, looking cool as he managed the stereo. Alex finally had had enough - he was covered with scrapes and chocolate - and Chris took him in for a bath and bedtime. I stayed out long enough to toast a marshmallow for Jonathan's first s'more, then carried him home. He said "Mommy, we spent the whole day outside! I'm so happy." I asked him if we should have another block party next year. He lit up and said "Tomorrow?"

Pharmacopeia

They make kid's medicines taste too good these days. Jonathan hasn't had many courses of antibiotics in his life - I think the last was two years ago - but between those and a couple shots of childrens' Tylenol, he thinks medicine is terrific. It's not uncommon for him to announce "I'm sick. I need some medicine to feel better."

Well, obviously, I'm not pulling down the blue raspberry Advil every time he asks. Most of the time I can distract him with a book or a game, and he forgets all about his illness. There are times, though, that he's miserable with a cough or cold. There really aren't any children's medicines left on the market for those.

So I concoct him some home remedies. For cough, he gets hot water with honey and lemon. Of course, I don't usually have fresh lemons sitting in my fridge - but I almost always have sour mix! He sits at the table and relishes every sip, and always reports that he feels much better. When he has a sort throat, I let him gargle with salty warm water. I have to watch him pretty carefully to make sure he doesn't drink it.

Now he tailors his illnesses to get the remedy he wants. After he's been put to bed, he'll come out to the landing of the stairs and call for me. I'll ask him "What do you need, Jonathan?" He can't keep the sly grin off his face as he says "Mommy, my throat really hurts. Do you know what would make me feel so much better? It comes in a glass and it's warm - it's that salty drink!"

Today he was having a hard time getting ready for school. Miss Becky loaded Alex into the car while I went up the bathroom to check on him. He said his stomach was hurting him and was moving at approximately 0.003 miles an hour. Since he'd scarfed a waffle, juice and yogurt for breakfast, I wasn't too worried. But in desperation I asked him if I needed to make him special medicine for his stomach. He lit up and said "Oooh yes!" He finished washing up while I went out to the herb garden and picked a mint leaf. I handed it to him as he went out to the car. Later that day he told me he chewed some of it up and it made his tummy feel good. If only it was always that easy.

Tuddles, Tars, and Lillybuds.

Alex has had another language explosion, and is putting together full sentences. Most of them focus on how independent he is. "Alex do it!" is a favorite. He's still such a cheery little guy, though. We can convince him to do almost anything as long as we talk it up with sufficient enthusiasm.

For example, it gets dark nowadays at about 9 pm. It's one of the things we love about living here, but it can make bedtime a challenge. For the first few nights after Daylight Savings Time kicked in, Jonathan and Alex both protested about going to bed while it was still light out. We've made the adjustment now and Alex's bedtime is around 7 pm. He usually happily playing, but if we say "Alex! Bedtime! Wow, let's go!" he races to the stairs to get ahead of us. He announces "Elmo first! Alex do it!" which means he's got dibs on his toothbrush. He likes to turn the water on to let a very thin stream run into his cup. Then he drinks the "little water" and allows the last bit to dribble on his shirt. He says "Oh doodness!" and we get him into pajamas. He insists on picking them out each night - very different from our older son who still doesn't care what he wears. We read and then Alex gets his "tuddle." He positions my head with both hands to make sure he's comfortable, then throws his arms around my shoulders and grips for dear life. If I make a move towards getting up, he whispers "Tuddle!" until I settle back down.

Alex and Jonathan are playing together more and more. It's really cute to see them decide on a game and run out to the sunroom hand in hand, or crack each other up with silly noises. Alex loves to say "Brother! Hug! Tish!" and Jonathan's happy to reciprocate. But when it comes to toy cars, all the brotherly love goes right out the window. Alex will put on a ferocious scowl, grasp six cars to his chest, plant his feet and announce "MY tars!" Jonathan will howl and start to pull them away. The cars had to go in timeout for a while while the boys learned to negotiate. I have to say, Alex usually gets the better deal. If Jonathan wants Ferrari, Alex will refuse to hand it over until he's gotten Chick Hicks, Doc, Lightning, Sally and The King. Jonathan doesn't seem to mind the imbalance, and Alex wears a small smile that clearly says "Sucker!"

So our happy little guy spends his days, speaking Spanish with Ms. Becky, raiding Jonathan's car stash, and waiting for his big brother to get home. The only thing that can reliably throw off his equilibrium are the dreaded lillybuds. This is Alex's pronunciation of "ladybug" and it means any bug. Five times an evening, he will come shrieking "Lillybud! Dere!" and we have to get down on the floor and look. Sometimes it's a bug, but more often it's a crumb or bit of fluff. Alex stays well back until we pick it up with a tissue and throw it away.

Notes from School

Jonathan has a special relationship with the Director of his school, Mr. George. He always makes sure to greet him in the mornings with a smile and a "Hello!" and checks up on Mr. George if he misses a day. I know Mr. George gets a big kick out of Jonathan, and has mentioned him in hs Friday emails to the school.

A few weeks ago, Jonathan wanted to bring in a book for Share Day. He is very strict about the rules that Ms. Lori sets out, and thirty seconds before walking out the door, he had a meltdown that there was no bookmark in his book. Since there are twenty kids in his class, if you bring a book for Share Day, you have to pick one special page and mark it with a bookmark. I grabbed a colorful piece of junk mail and cut a strip off the bottom - voila! Instant bookmark.

When he got home that afternoon, he had apparently upgraded. Instead of my makeshift work, he now had a bookmark laser printed with "Jonathan" and some stars on heavy cardstock. I asked him where he got this and he told me Mr. George had made it for him because he lost his other bookmark.

I had to call the school today to confirm Alex's enrollment and got Mr. George on the line. He told me that Jonathan had sought him out today to tell him again how much he liked the bookmark. Apparently Jonathan had been really upset when his initial one slipped out of his book (again, Ms. Lori's rules are absolute) and Mr. George was happy to print one up for him. It's just like Jonathan to bring it up again, apropos of nothing, weeks later. He's got a memory like an elephant.

Mr. George called back a few minutes later to confirm the enrollment, and said he had another Jonathan story from this morning. He had been pleasantly surprised by the gift of a computer for the primary classroom, and told Jonathan the good news: "Jonathan, there's going to be a computer in your class!" Jonathan took this in stride and apparently told Mr. George, "Oh, good. My mommy sometimes uses different words." This took Mr. George at a bit of a loss, but he decided to ask Jonathan what words these were. (At this point on the phone, I am holding my breath that Jonathan did not report something inappropriate that I may have let slip.)

Jonathan said "Words like. . . dialysis." Mr. George had no idea what to make of this, so he told Jonathan to have a good day. I was laughing with relief as I provided the translation. We tell Jonathan all the time that Daddy fixes computers at work, and Mommy fixes people with dialysis. So there you go. He had to make sure that Mommy's work was mentioned too. Mr. George and I agreed that this made - at least - a little more sense.

The Hand That Talks the Lego

Last night, Jonathan chose ten minutes of playtime instead of three bedtime stories. We sat down to play Cars, a legacy from Granpa's babysitting last month. Jonathan wanted to recreate the Piston Cup race at the end of the movie. I haven't seen it in a long time, so I built an announcer tower out of Legos and put a Star Wars rebel soldier on top. I had him comment on Chick Hicks being mean and Lightning McQueen helping his friends. Jonathan really enjoyed it - so much so that he made sure to schedule time with me tomorrow to play Cars again.

He woke me up at 6 AM to check that we could play this afternoon. When I got home from the grocery shopping, he was ready to go. I had to carefully rebuild the announcer tower to the exact specifications. Jonathan lined up the cars and I started the play-by-play.

As we played, I noticed something interesting. If I took my hand off the Lego tower, say to brush my hair out of my eyes, Jonathan's concentration broke and he asked me immediately to "talk him, Mommy!" As soon as I touched the Legos, he would crouch down to make eye contact with the minifigure and start talking again. I took my hand away - Jonathan looked at me. I put my hand back - Jonathan was instantly reabsorbed in his game.

It was strange to get confirmation that he is still squarely in the "magical thinking" stage of development. He can talk (and talk and talk) with a wide ranging vocabulary, so most of the time I forget and assume he reasons roughly the same way I do. Not so. If that Lego tower is moving, then the minifigure is talking to him in Mommy's voice. I guess it's a mark of the mother of a four year old - I need to think more about how to exploit this.

I want to ride my tricycle.

Well, there's no snow on the ground, and it's above thirty degrees, so it must be spring here in Michigan. Jonathan and I were outside the other day. I asked him if he wanted to try riding his bicycle but he declined. We were balancing on the pavers when five year old Adam came riding by on his bike and asked to play.

I thought I'd help things along. It turns out Adam likes "Cars" so I had the boys run the Piston Cup. Then Adam wanted to ride bikes with Jonathan, who answered by making car noises. I told him Jonathan didn't know how to ride a bike yet, but maybe he could teach him a little. Jonathan lit up and ran to the garage for his bike. I put his helmet on (I have to do that before he thinks it makes him look dorky) and Adam showed him how to coast and balance.

Jonathan thought that was pretty neat. He asked me why Adam was allowed to ride around the block on his own. I told him Adam was five and in kindergarten, and he probably knew how to read and do all sorts of things. Adam's modest and said he's still working on the alphabet. Jonathan apparently thought it was time to establish some cred of his own. He said "I know how to read! I KNOW how to read." Funny, he usually says he can't if I ask him to sound out a word.

Then Jonathan upped the ante. He started pointing to his eyes and said "And - look here. Know what these are? Good sharp eyes! Watch out! They'll poke you!" Adam, duly impressed, rode off and said he'd come back some other time.

I thought I'd get Alex involved in the riding and bought him a Big Wheel. I loved mine so much when I was a kid. The new version doesn't have the hand brake that let you do such cool skids, but otherwise it's a perfect match. Poor Alex - his legs are too short to reach the pedals. He's happy to let Jonathan ride it down to the corner and back. Instead, Alex hauls the little push car up the driveway. We live in such a flat part of the state, our driveway is the best sledding hill in the neighborhood. Alex gets halfway up and turns around. He shouts "Ready?" and I say "Ready!" He says "Go!" and picks up his feet so he can roll down the hill. Almost immediately, he starts shouting "No no no!" because I'm positioning myself at the bottom to catch him before he scoots into the street. He leans to the side so he runs into the grass, stopping himself. Jonathan breezes by on the Big Wheel and everyone starts all over again.

Story Time

"Book! Read!"
"Okay, Alex, let's read this book."
"I don't like this book. I'll just cover my ears."
"Are you sure, Jonathan? You used to like Curious George."
"No, I don't like it. After the story, can we play the Legos game?"
"BLUE!"
"Okay, I'll read the story to Alex and"
"BLUE!"
"Yes, Alex, that's a blue scarf. After we read the story, we'll all go play the Legos game. Let's go sit on the sofa."

"ORANGE!"
"Yes, Alex, I changed into an orange shirt. I like your hat."
"He really likes snowman hats every day."
"Let's sit down. 'Curious George takes a job.'"
"Paint!"
"That's George's window washing works. Let's read the story. 'This is George. He lived in the Zoo. He was a good little monkey and always very curious. He wanted to find out what was going on outside the Zoo. One day, when the keeper was not paying attention, George got hold of the key for the cage."
"Why did he take the key?"
"Because he wanted to. . . "
"Find out what was going on!"
"Good!"
"Unh! Uhn!"
"Yes, Alex, he took the key. 'When the keeper discovered what had happened, it was too late - George was gone!'"
"Uh-oh!"
"Yes, Alex, the keeper dropped his pipe. 'Where was George? They looked for him everywhere, but they could not find him."
"Why are the keepers looking for him?"
"Because they want to put him back in his cage."
"But he wants to get out."
"Uhfant. Uhfant."
"Yes, he wants to go outside."
"UHFANT!"
"Yes, Alex, an elephant! Good job."

"'George was hiding in the hay of his friend, the elephant.'"
"Nap."
"Why is he hiding in the hay?"
"Because. . . "
"Uhfant NAP!"
"The keepers are looking for him!"
"That's right"
"All done! (snatch)"
"Oh, no more story?"
"I have a great idea. We can read this story from the box! It's Goodnight Moon."
"Okay. 'Goodnight Moon,' by Margaret Wise Brown. Pictures by Clement Hurd."
"Clement Hurt."
"'In the great green room, there was a telephone, and a red balloon, and a picture of'"
"Moush!"
"There's the balloon!"
"Meow! MEOW!"
"Alex, you silly goose! I called him a silly goose."
"Naaaoow."
"A mouse says 'squeak'."
"SQUEAK, Alex!"
"Moush."
"'The cow jumping over the moon.' What noise does a cow make, Alex?"
"Meow, meow! Naaaoow!"
"Silly goose! MOOOOO!"
"MOOOOOO!"
"Look, bears!"

Two over two.

Well, we've got no babies around here any more. Alex turned two years old this week. Chris was away on business, so our celebrations were pretty subdued. Jonathan stayed up late one evening to help me bake a birthday cake. Since Alex still doesn't like chocolate very much, we made a pineapple upside-down cake. Jonathan arranged the rings in the pan and put maraschino cherries in the centers. He was so excited that he crept downstairs after bedtime to look at the cake as it cooled.

On the day of his birthday, I got to take him to his Toddle Time class at the local gym. It's very unstructured and Alex loves it. We bounced on the trampoline and jumped into the foam-filled pit again and again. After that, I had to take a quick shower to wash blue foam bits out of my hair and head off to work. He had a nice day with Miss Becky and Jonathan, and was asleep when I got home.

We presented him with the cake the next day after lunch. He let an an "Ooooooh!" and was super excited to see "Teh-mets" on the cake - he mistook the cherries for his beloved tomatoes. We opened presents from Grandma and Auntie Liz. He was especially pleased with his sporty new pajamas. He pointed out the "Hot!" flames down the arms, and the "Tars," or cars, which were the main motif. He insisted on sleeping in them that night.

So now we have a full-fledged two year old. His molars must be coming in, as he walks around with a finger tucked into the back corners of his mouth. He's been kind of fussy the last few days, even now that Chris is back home, and takes special delight in grabbing whatever toy Jonathan currently has. Other favorite games include running and hiding from us, and climbing up on my back to play "Ba-whump." He fell off yesterday and started laughing - he told me gleefully that was "Funny!"

We've cut way back on the little TV the boys were watching, but that doesn't stop him from grabbing the DVD case and commanding "George NOW!" He is enjoying books a lot more these days, and Jonathan went through his own collection to pass down a whole boxful of baby books. Spot and Biscuit are in heavy rotation, although he also loves the lullaby books that I sing to him. And for bedtime, he has an entire menagerie to keep him company. Tonight, I said "Goodnight, Alex! Goodnight Lion and Chicken and Bear. Goodnight Mickey and Lambie and other Lambie." He said "banket!" and I pulled it up to his chin. Then he sent me off with a "Shhhhh. . . night night."

Pop goes the elbow

Alex fell down while holding Ms. Becky's hand the other afternoon. He didn't fuss much at first, but started to cry when she put on his coat. She drove him home and he came over to see me, saying, "Owie! Owie!" It was so sad to see his little arm limp at his side. He refused to use it at all, so we lifted him onto the couch and let him watch Curious George. He was fine as long as we didn't move his arm.

I remembered learning about "nursemaid's elbow" in medical school, and that there was a common fix. I got my orthopedics textbook, which described the procedure. You simply turn the hand palm-side up and flex the arm. But I wasn't sure how much it would hurt Alex, and how much force I was supposed to use. I fretted. Ms. Becky was distraught and fighting back tears, and Alex and Jonathan were absorbed in their movie.

Dr. Driscoll, our pediatrician, returned my call and stayed on the phone while I tried to get Alex's elbow back together. He fussed a little, and I thought I had felt the little pop, so we waited ten minutes. Then I held up a cup of his beloved "red," also known as juice. I held his good arm down but he refused to reach with his bad arm at all. Perhaps we needed to go the ER after all.

I'm always too hesitant with new procedures. I decided I'd give it one more try. I grasped his elbow in my right hand and with my left, turned and flexed his arm. This time, there was a definite click as the ligament snapped back into place. Dr. Driscoll had warned me Alex might cry for five minutes afterwards, but he only fussed for a moment. Two minutes later, we offered the red again. He moved his injured arm a bit, then looked down as though he was surprised. Then he grabbed the cup with both hands, drank his juice, and squirmed over to wrestle with his brother.

Years of schooling and training: nine. Student loans: $100,000. Fixing your kid's elbow: priceless.

Alexander in the recession

This kid is drowning in high-quality toys. Grandparents and doting aunts and uncles load him up. I browse the catalogs that come through the door. Attention, everyone! Please don't bother. Let's explore what's high on the Alexander hit parade these days.

1) VAN! The provenance of this Matchbox van is quite astonishing. I think our old nanny literally dug it out of the yard at the house she rented. It's missing most of its paint. It was Jonathan's favorite for a long time, but he's graciously ceded it to Alex. When Alex is getting ready to ride to preschool, he delays until he's found the van. I tried to buy him a new one (with less lead paint, I assume) for Christmas. That's been lost, but I had to pick the old van out of his blankets the other day. He'd insisted on sleeping with it.

2) Lella (or letter.) This is a purple rectangle of plastic, two by three inches, that came with the big Fisher Price house. Alex doesn't play much with the house, but he sure does love the letter. He tells us it's purple. He holds it to do the "Letter dance" from Blue's Clues. He shouts "Friends!" until we say, "Yes, Alex, it's a letter from our friends!"

3) Sofa pillows. This is the big treat of the week, when Chris builds the boys a fort from the sofa cushions. Besides a fort, Alex likes building a bed and tucking in his van, And when Blue's Clues did "What time is it now?" the clues were a blanket, book, and pillow. Alex lit up, made a bed, laid down and said "Night night!" He just figured out Blues Clues!

Cue the dance!