Wednesday, February 16, 2011

A Backpack.

Brock uses full sentences. As in, a subject, an object and a verb. It's weird. Just the other day he walked up to me with my phone and says, "I want to play zsa lellow game, mommy." (lellow = yellow, his name for the Simon game on my phone). Another time, I stumbled upon him yanking on Tali's collar, calling her name, attempting to drag her somewhere. As soon as Brock noticed my presence, he says, "Mommy, I need Tali." (To follow-up, he wanted to drag her into his room so he could shut the door, turn off his light, and turn on this glowing rattle thing that flashes in a bunch of different crazy patterns. Not sure if they spend an hour in there actually playing, or if they are both having seizures and passing out from the lights? But any attempt I've made on entering his room during these sessions, results in promptly shoving me out of the room and closing the door, while being told, "No! Mommy."

In other metaporphesis into a kid news, Brock is going to "Kid's Day Out" on Tuesdays each week, which is like pre-preschool. He loves it. When I pick him up, he wants to show me everything he did that day, specifically that he can reach and drink out of the water fountain himself. Dozens of kids make out with that fountain daily, and I wonder why we can't knock this cold? He says "bye bye" to everyone, including the school in general as we leave. Leah called me this past Tuesday, and Brock grabbed the phone from me to tell her, "Good day today, at school." (Ok, so we're missing the subject and the verb, but close enough to a full sentence, right?) So...he's actually listening when I ask him if he had a good day today.
He loves feeling independent. I should have thought to purchase a backpack prior to his first session. (But I also probably should have 1.) toured the school so I would know where his classroom is; 2.)asked the schoolmaster what he needed to bring for the day, instead of frantically calling a mother who sends her daughter on a different day the night before his first day; 3.) asked what door to enter because apparently you need a code to get in and drop them off...I'll get this forethought thing down eventually, right?) I was just kind of being defiant. All the little kid packpacks I see have Dora or Superman on them, and I am just not a fan. I like my littles to look just that, little adults. But all the other kids come in, hang their backpack on their assigned hook, dump their lunch boxes in the big caontainer and proceed into the classroom. Here I am, hanging his over-stuffed tote bag that was given to me for free from the vet, and asking one of his teachers for tape and a pen to write Brock's name on his all black lunch bag, while Brock sprints up and down the hallway. So, when I walked into American Apparel that same Tuesday, to use my $50 Groupon to buy a couple fun-colored leggings, and spotted one, miniature, navy blue, backpack hanging in the kid's section, I could not resist. We got it right the 2nd time. Brock loved that he had his own backpack to hang on his own hook. I always thought my big sister was just being dramatic, but perhaps oldests do have a case...what a huge learning curve there is for parents.

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