Some things kids need to be taught...

I grew up on the Rolling Stones. We listened to classic rock pretty much all the time, but it was really the Rolling Stones that were instilled in me as the quintessential rock band by my father. At one point, I was just obsessed with "Sympathy for the Devil" and "Paint it Black" and remember clearly one Easter Sunday being quite upset with my dad for not allowing us to listen to the former tune in the car. Of course, this love for rock 'n roll has stayed with me and, though my tastes have branched out considerably, I can always come back the the Stones, Led Zeppelin, and other classic rock staples.

James, too, loves rock 'n roll and often requests it in the car. He is usually only satisfied if we play it "really really really super loud," which is just fine by me. This morning, he requested some rock 'n roll so I obliged with what is unarguably one of the pinnacle rock albums of the past 50 years: the Stone's "Exile on Main Street." I was quite dismayed as I went through the entire album, track by track, only to have James declare after the first 5 seconds of each song, "This is not rock 'n roll." Oh boy -- I've got some work to do if I'm going to live up the parenting standards set by own father.

What's that Troodon doing there?

Here is one of my favorite recent quotes, whose precocious vocabulary skills continually impress us:

"Hey! What's that Troodon doing there?"

Just in case you weren't sure:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Troodon

Growing Up is Hard To Do

James seems like such a big boy lately. He's really been into wearing pocket pants (cargo pants) instead of his old favorites "soft pants", he only uses diapers at night, and he has recently given up his pacifiers, aka BBs.

Tonight he was once again stalling going to bed. He wanted a new book and wanted me to lift him up so he could pick one from the high shelf. On one of the top shelves were his BBs. He spotted them and said, "My BBs!". Then he looked at me, put his head on my shoulder and said, "I really love BBs you know."

Jamie Walks, Too!

We recently posted some of Anna's first steps, on her blog here:
http://antoinettegangloff.blogspot.com/2012/02/anna-walks.html

So as not to be outdone by his sister's recent walking accomplishments, James wanted us to post this video of his first steps:

Jamie Walks

Blimp School

A couple weeks ago, James became obsessed with the character Al Oft, the "Light Year" blimp from the "Cars" movies. He did some great things around the house and earned a toy Al Oft (which we had to order over the internet). Since then, he's become more and more interested in blimps. This past week-end, we got some blimp books from the library. We've been looking at these and answering LOTS and LOTS of questions about blimps.

After dinner, James decided that it was time to teach the family a few things about blimps. Here is a short clip of James teaching blimp school:

Blimp School

Word Play

James has started to notice words and play with language. He enjoys replacing the first letters of words with new letters and has recently taking to noticing words that sound similar, like "car" and "card," or words used in different ways, like "fire" and "fire truck." Today at dinner he and Becky were brainstorming different such connections, such as "juice" and "moose" or "Anna" and "banana." James had some creative combinations, but gave me a good chuckle when he proclaimed, "'Dog' and 'Byron Barton' -- they're the same!"

Note: Byron Barton is one of our favorite authors, writing such classics as "Trains," "Planes," and "Boats." We haven't read any of his books or mentioned his name, however, in at least a month.

Not yet, James...

James is not hesitant to get dirty. In fact, just last week we were at the park and he initiated some good old-fashioned mud play with his friend Freddy. This involved first walking tentatively in a mud patch (easy to find with our spring-like weather), sliding the mud patch, kneeling in the mud patch, and ultimately making mud angels. It comes as some surprise on the occasions when James overreacts to being a bit dirty, as he can do sometimes. Last week at breakfast, he gagged a bit on his bagel and spit up a small glob of half-chewed dough. He freaked out that there was some on his hand, which I immediately wiped off. Then, pointing to a small blob stuck on his lower lip, he exclaimed, "Daddy, Daddy! There's still some on my beard!"