If at first you don't succeed, try camping again.

As you may remember, I tried to take Sasha camping last summer and it was pretty much a failure.  Not for a lack of appreciation of nature, but because it was just too fun to be "sleeping" outside in a tent.

We went to the Catskills, at a park halfway between my friend Robin who lives in Syracuse and us in Brooklyn.  She took her dog, Hawley, who was showered compliments all weekend long because she's so cute: one ear permanently up and the other kinked halfway down, and a underbite that makes her look like she's pouting about some injustice.  One passerby asked what kind of dog she was, and Robin replied "part pit, part I don't know what."  Sasha suggested "polka dot!"  He enjoyed feeding the dog as long as she didn't get too close otherwise.  And he practiced his new-found "No!" any time she made a move.

(I've noticed that he doesn't stick up for himself at the playground or kid meeting places.  So I encouraged him to say "No!" if another kid takes his toy or pushes him.  He took it very seriously and now stands up for himself a little bit.  And he loves using it to fend off his mothers.)

Our campsite was nice and right next to a rocky river.  The town near where we stayed is a popular destination for fly fishing, known as Trout Town USA.  The river definitely had a River Runs Through It look.  The sound was peaceful and, as a side benefit, excellent at blocking out the sounds of the crowded campground.

Our site was next to a sweet family with a 3-year old boy named Ethan.  Sasha and he became instant best friends.  Most of the weekend was the two of them barefoot and squealing with delight in the sandpit or at the water spigot.  The first one awake in the morning went immediately to the other's campsite looking for fun.  So cute.

As for sleeping, the Bub has improved over last time.  He never went to bed before us, though.  Being alone in the tent was too much temptation.  He'd be inside for 2 minutes, then zzzzzip, and he emerged, leaving his shoes behind and the tent door wide open for easier bug entry.  The first night, Nerdy went in the tent with him and spent a heroic amount of time and effort trying to get him to sleep: telling stories, singing songs, giving massages.  He was overjoyed that she wanted to hang out in the tent with him, but if she thought she was leaving the tent alone, she was wrong.  By the last night, we realized there was no point in trying to put him to bed before us, so he got to stay up hours later than normal.  He slept all the way through the night, but morning still started for everyone at six oh oh.

 

More Pics from the Dairy State

Captains finding the way on the hike.

Bug? Rock? Snake?

Rock.
But this fearless girl pet a snake that crossed our path only minutes later.

The cousins spent an hour at the stream.

Aunt Carrie cuddling.

Throw me again, Grandma!

BFFs in silliness.

How about let's put our apples on this spinning thing and watch them fly?

After bath.

Posing with Grandpa J.

I just walked straight up a bluff and now I'm resting.

Even more resting.

Hiking with Aunt Wendy.

Running the last mile for the promise of food at the end.

Going for a ride with Grandpa Z. "Wow. That's loud!"

Fun in Baraboo

Pajamas and galoshes: a perfect first morning at Grandma's house.

Feeding oranges to the orioles.

Hmmm... what good stuff can I find in the garage?

Helping Grandma mail a letter.

Look, there's a spider in there!

Breakfast with cousin Taylor.

Going for a ride.

 

Taylor showing off her no-hands trick.

It's my Thomas the Train.

Sneaking into Grandma's bed... to read.

Sasha spinning, Taylor standing, doing their best to cause injury.

Hellaioh!

Riding on the clown train at the Art Fair on the Square.

Fearsome Pirate

Poor Baby

The Bub is well into his third day of fever.  He's so sick, we had to check our ears when he told us, "I want to go to bed."  He spent almost all day yesterday and most of today sleeping or lying around.  Strangely, he's in good spirits and we don't see any other signs of illness.  A mildly runny nose and no appetite, but those things happen a lot anyway.  Remembering that he usually gets a fever every time he gets new teeth, we just checked his mouth and lo and behold: new teeth!  The tiny peaks of his last 2 molars are just beginning to poke through the gums.  Look out, celery!

Making cookies

That Appears to Be True

The Bub and I were having a picnic in the soggy grass at the park when he jumped up, announced, "I'll be right back," and ran far away to investigate something important: cement, workmen, a lamppost, I'm not really sure. He came back eventually, slipping a bit in a mud slick along the way.  He stuffed a couple of grapes in his mouth and told me "I'm going back to the mud puddle where I belong," and spent a good ten minutes getting disgusting. 

Ethical Parenting in the Era of Television

I’m not proud to say I let my son watch too much TV.   To assuage my pangs of guilt for lazy parenting, I turned to Google to soothe myself.  Surely I’m not the only one.  The internet did not disappoint. Who would guess that the average American child aged 2 to 5 watches 32 hours of television a week?  Seriously. When do those average children eat?  In front of the TV set presumably.  Anyway, it made me feel a little better.  Plus the reassuring fact that so far, Sasha doesn’t seem to be lacking developmentally.

I was having a laundry room chat with a neighbor, a mother of 2 young boys.  I complained that the child care room at the Y has a TV blaring at all times of day, with the children watching in a gape-mouthed stupor.  She agreed this was terrible, and said, “As a parent, I’ll be the one to say when you can watch TV: when I need to get something done!”

But lest I judge the harried parent, sometimes all that TV time is worth it just to hear the things that come out of his mouth.  After watching Toy Story 15-plus times, the Bub has memorized quite a bit of dialogue.  I was changing his diaper the other day, when he looks around the room and says to me, “There seems to be no sign of intelligent life.” 

A short time later (after I finally stopped laughing), he looked out the window and announced, “I see a sign of intelligent life!”  Surprised, I walked over to the window where he pointed out the stop sign outside of our building.

He also makes the toy pig yell at me, “Give me all your money!”  This is immediately followed by a round of kisses for everyone.  I didn’t get it until I saw the scene: the bank robber pig demands all your money and then greedily kisses all the coins that cascade around him.  Money lover or just plain lover, it’s all the same to Sasha.

And to make TV matters worse, Toy Story is a Disney/Pixar movie.  This means we’ve bought hook, line, and sinker into licensed merchandise.  How can I deny him the unending pleasures that come with sippy cups and underwear featuring Buzz Lightyear and Woody cowboy?  I’m a sucker! 

Plus, I figure the central conceit of Toy Story—that toys come to life when you’re not around—is enhanced by having toys that exactly resemble the ones in the movie.  Toys have a life of their own and love to be played with and tossed about and want to go everywhere you go? What a great concept for a little kid just beginning to make sense of the world around him.

Soccer!

Today was the Bub's first day of soccer class.  I'm not sure who was more excited, me or him, but it doesn't really matter.  The class is a "parent and child" one, so it will be a Saturday morning bonding experience for Mama and Bub.  I will get some much-needed time off, but I had to attend today to check it out (and to get pictures!) and because I knew it would be cute and funny to see a outdoor class full of 2-year-olds.  How does a coach herd cats? The answer, I discovered, is they don't. For the duration of class, tots would take off across the field then get chased down and brought back by a parent. One kid lay down on top of the net. Another collected the hoops that were intended to mark a running track.  One carried her "home base" rubber mat with her everywhere she went.  I am proud to say that Sasha was very well-behaved, listening to the coach and excited to participate.  He still doesn't understand the waiting in line thing, but whatever-- I hate it, too, and I've had a few decades to get used to it.

Bonus: the t-shirts provided are purple! With a logo in distressed yellow to satisfy the most discerning fashionista.

The weather was cooperative, too.  One of the only nice days we've had so far this year. Get here soon, summer.

Not Quite

-- Sasha, what's your full name?

-- Alexander Sky Rosen.
-- And you're Mamu Sky Rosen and you're Mama Sky Rosen.