what must I look like normally?

This morning Aidan needed something while I was getting ready, so I ran downstairs, one towel around my neck covering what needed covering (never sure which windows might be open in the morning) with another around my waist. He pointed at the "skirtish" towel and said, "Mommy, your towel looks pretty."

It's official

Aidan's in full pretending mode. It's been coming on for awhile, but we're there now full stop, as they say. He's been having a blast with his Batcave (the only thing he wanted from Santa) this weekend--the only characters he has for it are Batman and Robin, but he has more than one of those, so the extras play other parts. He'll tell me, "Santa didn't bring me the Joker, so this Batman is the Joker today," or "This Batman is Batgirl now." Important that I, while working in another room, am clear about who's who.


He's also been playing Santa quite a bit, donning his Santa hat (which is too small and barely hangs on to the back of his head), building a sleigh out of footstools and ordering around the reindeer in Santa's very authoritative voice ("ON Dasher....ON Dancer....ON Cupid"), checking his list (which happens, it seems, to be housed in the text for the class I'm preparing to teach this quarter; unfortunately for me this causes some challenges in preparation), and bringing different presents to those who deserve it. Oftentimes Santa will ask what we'd like to get. When I reply, for instance, "an airplane" knowing full well he has a dozen toy airplanes at hand, he'll say, "I'm so, so sorry that I have no airplanes." Then one will appear.


This brings me to a wonderful story about Christmas that, I promise, ends well. As I mentioned, he only wanted a Batcave. He told Santa in person, he told the Elf on the Shelf repeatedly, he offered to give up other presents so that Santa would know what he really wanted. In fact, he dictated a letter to Santa to ensure a Batcave, despite telling him 4-5 times on his lap, I'm digressing for a moment to transcribe it here (tried to attach for added value of baby voice and interesting pronunciation, but was unable due to technical difficulties):



Dear Santa,

How are your reindeer? I want my; I, I, I LOVE you! Thank you for coming, and for taking pictures (I believe this refers to having his picture taken with Santa), and don't forget to know I want...a Batcave. a BATCAVE. I want...a Batcave. Don't forget, I want, to know, I want...a Batcave. (Then, an aside to his uncle who's writing the note for him,) "Are you drawing a Batcave?"



I find it hilarious for several reasons:

1. I love the change from, "I want" to "I love you!" Hey - put in a good word before you go for what you want. Approach is everything.


2. I love that he asked for the Batcave, what, 4 times in 20 seconds?


3. I love at the end, where he asks his uncle whether he's drawing a Batcave? See, it's hard to get good help these days. It's important to follow up in case your instructions weren't clear.

Back to our story - jump to Christmas morning. Aidan gets about halfway through his multitude of presents, looks around, and doesn't see a package large enough to be the Batcave. He becomes visibly upset, almost welling up and says something along the lines of, "I don't see a Batcave." We'd been having him "read" the tags to us - he recognizes an S, D, M and A and could tell whether things were to or from Santa, Daddy, Mommy or Aidan. We asked him to read the tag on the next present from Santa (you could tell it was from Santa because of the wrapping paper), and this is what he "read:"

Dear Aidan,
I know you've been a really good boy and I'm so, so sorry but I forgot your Batcave. I'm sorry.
Love, Santa

Later, of course, there was another present we hadn't seen way behind the tree. Wouldn't you know it was a Batcave from Santa?! When Daddy asked him how there could be a Batcave when Santa wrote a note apologizing that he forgot it, A told us, "I think I was just messing with you about the note." Ya think? My hunch is that this "not having" whatever we ask for from Santa goes back to the Batcave experience.

I love that kid.

telephone

"Mommy, what's for dinner tonight?"

"Gnocchi, but you can have yours plain, without sauce."

"Why we are eating Pinnochio for dinner? Why he is plain?"

the exact moment I knew Disney was a different experience for Aidan

We were in Orlando last week. I thought it would be fun to watch him, as the line between reality and imagination is so incredibly blurry right now. I had no idea.

There's a Buzz Lightyear ride, which was bound to be popular. He loves, loves Buzz. You ride through, shoot lasers at targets and eliminate the evil emperor Zerg. He was so happy that he was bouncing up and down. He took a nap right after the ride, and we had a few minutes to kill. I asked him whether he wanted to ride again, and he kind of shrugged and said, "No." I asked him why and he said, "At the end of the ride, Buzz told me I did a great job and he took the evil emperor Zerg to jail. We're done."

funniest quotes from this weekend

We were at Addison's birthday party on Saturday. He got as excited as she was about one particular present, yelling, "You got my favorite color--pink!"

Looking up after his soccer "practice" Saturday, Aidan asked, "Mommy, did I do a great job?" He sat by the edge of the field for part of it and didn't participate for a good portion, so I called out, "You didn't do a great job, but you didn't do terrible." (Not one of my stellar Mom moments, but a history of swim lessons explains my answer a little.) No one heard that, though - they heard his next question. Everyone heard it. "Mommy, did I do terrible?" Like I run around having "terrible" be his measure for everything. Ugh.

Steel trap

The kid doesn't forget anything. We were in Chicago over Labor Day weekend, and he must've noticed the skyline. This week we carpooled with Daddy because his Jeep was in the shop. Looking up at Daddy's tall building through the sunroof, he said, "Wow! That building is very, very tall. It's almost like Chicago!"

Last week he was talking about his love of strawberries and generally all things pink. I asked him if he wanted to have a strawberry cake for his birthday next year, and he said he did. Then he said, "BB likes pink strawberry cake, but Uncle Brett likes cheesecake." That doesn't sound like much, but what it means is that he remembers the desserts my siblings had for their birthday dinner, which was in April, seven months ago.

Crazy.

Thought it was just a legend, but it's real

Aidan lives in a very black and white world, which is hilarious at times, especially during Funk Breaks (see earlier post). For Aidan, though, whatever dance we first do for a particular song is what you must always do for that song (black and white world).

At our house "All the Single Ladies" (a Beyonce song - he learned it at school, believe it or not) is called by its name, but Michael Jackson's "Shake your Body (Down to the Ground)" is called The Pointing Song because we did a pointing-type groovy dance to it the first time; other songs have similar titles. MJ's "Don't Stop Till You Get Enough," it turns out, is the Batman hula dance. Go ahead - try to picture that. I dare ya. It involves Aidan's wearing his Batman mask/cape that he's going to wear for Halloween, and then running through the house (so his cape flies up in the air), hands on hips and moving his hips in circles as he runs. It's maybe the funniest/best dance EVER.

I have to get video of it, because he'll never believe when he's older that he came up with this when he was little! What an awesome kid.