Fort Worth Zoo

Since my mom’s in town, we decided to take Troy to the Fort Worth zoo. It was pretty warm out, but still a pleasant afternoon. The zoo had lots of shade, which made it even better.

Troy rolled around in the stroller, watching all of the people walking by, preferring not to try to walk through the throng. He was very much taken with the baboons and their bright colors, the colorful varieties of fish, and the crocodile (who was dozing, but managed to open his eye a slit to give Troy a warning look). At the hippo tank, he was so focused on the fish that he completely missed the two large hippos swimming by his face!

Unfortunately, the Africa and Asia exhibits were closed for remodeling, so Troy didn’t get to see a lion or tiger. But he did come face-to-face with a giraffe (you could buy lettuce to feed them, although we didn’t) as she stuck her head over the side of the fence.

Troy’s absolutely favorite part was the petting zoo. We were able to let him lose to run around petting the sheep, goats, and hogs. He loved being able to touch and interact with the animals, and one sheep in particular seemed to love being pet as much as he loved petting her! Some of the goats were a little aggressive with each other, so we had to watch him closely in that pen, and one tried to eat my pocket. But most of them were docile and would walk right up to you and sniff you curiously.

After all these years of going to zoos, it’s interesting how your perspective changes when you have a two-year old. You see things from a whole new viewpoint, literally kneeling on the ground at his eye level. You get excited at him getting excited. You get to enjoy sharing your sparse knowledge with him about the animals. And you get to fall in love with his innocent joy, as he shakes with uncontrollable glee at seeing animals alive and so close. I’m glad we went, and I’m glad he enjoyed it. I hope we can take him to many more zoos and see many more different animals.

The Puzzler's Philosophy

My mom came up for the long weekend to see us. It’s been several months since she was able to get here, so she was amazed at how much Troy has changed even since she saw him last. Not just his appearance, but his personality too. She said he is a lot less shy and more outgoing. And he wasted no time making her feel welcome, running to give her a hug the minute he walked into the door, yelling, “Gammy! It’s Gammy!”

My mom and I pulled out our usual puzzle, which we spread out on the table and work on sporadically during downtimes. We chose a Beauty and the Beast one, thinking that Troy would enjoy it. He loved it. He wanted to help, climbing up on the chair, and diving right in. Unfortunately, his idea of helping was pulling all of the pieces apart that we had put together, but that’s okay.

I decided to teach him my grand philosophy of puzzle-working. It’s a fool-proof method that has always succeeded in helping me be amazing at puzzles. He soaked it in with his usual thirst for knowledge. As he struggled to connect two pieces that obviously didn’t go together, I told him, “If it doesn’t work the first time, push harder!” And he did!

Troy has loved having his Gammy around. He wakes up every morning, asking, “Is Gammy gone? When will she come back?” It’s all we can do to hold him still long enough to change his diaper before he’s running off to find her. He’s going to be a wreck when he can’t just run to the guest room and pop his little head into her room to talk to her. And he has a lot to say!

The Donut Tradition

When I was a kid, my mom used to occasionally stop at the donut shop on the way to school and buy my brother and I a donut as a treat for breakfast. And not just any donut; but a giant, Texas-sized, chocolate-covered donut! We would spend the rest of the car ride, bouncing along in the backseat, eating our donuts with chocolate, sticky-fingered delight.

Today, after they pulled out of the driveway, Troy started saying, “Donut, donut, donut?!” repeatedly. So, as a special treat, my wife stopped and got him a chocolate-covered donut to eat on the way to school. He happily bounced along in the backseat, eating his chocolate donut with sticky-fingered delight. 

And the tradition continues...

Baker's Dozen - Part 2

Troy finally got his dinosaur cookies, although they didn't turn out quite as expected. Nonetheless, it's the time spent together, not the result, that matters. We tried our luck with sugar cookies this time, being a little more substantial than the brownie cookies. However, we goofed again and got tube-o-cookies instead of something in a sheet or making them from scratch. I added some flour to the dough and rolled them out on the counter, but I guess I didn't get them thin enough...I mean who can eyeball an 1/8 of an inch anyway?! They ended up growing into life-sized dinosaurs in the oven, which Troy didn't really mind come to think of it. But his favorite part was using the cookie cutters, which he had been pulling out of the drawer for weeks. In fact, he was less thrilled with eating the cookies than he was with cutting out the shapes! Oh well, we all had fun, and we have another beautiful memory with Troy.

Hammock

My wife bought a hammock, supposedly as a gift for me, but since she’s had a dream of owning a hammock for the past fifteen years, I’m guessing it was really for her. We put it together in the den, and I was the only one brave enough to try it out. I think my workmanship was being questioned, like I can’t read and follow some simple instructions...pfft!

It’s quite a large hammock, so I took one side and wrapped it all the way around me, a la the leaf bed in the movie Avatar. Troy took a very different approach to it. He said I was a caterpillar in a cocoon, turning into a butterfly. Which of course made him want to try it too!

So, in he came into the “cocoon” with me, and wrapped the fabric around both of us. I thought he’d be afraid of the tight space or low light, but nope; totally fearless. It was cool to swing with him in our cocoon. When my wife finally got up the nerve to try it out, Troy got in too to show her how it worked, being the resident expert and all.

A, B, Cs

Troy came home tonight singing the Alphabet Song...more the tune than the actual letter names. But when we joined in, he seemed to mimic what we said a little better. Then, he wanted to just sing it in a loop. We obliged seven or eight times before shutting it down. I guess this is slightly better than the night he came home singing Happy Birthday over and over, or the day that he wanted to sing Old MacDonald's Farm on repeat.

Spring Report

We had our Spring follow-up with Troy’s daycare teacher today. Overall, she had very nice things to say about his development and growth. He’s in line or advanced for expectations at his age. He’s very caring and sweet to his friends, which he has taken to cultivating more now. He’s also a persistent and analytical problem solver, preferring to keep at a puzzle instead of giving up. But there were three things that she said that made us extremely proud.

One, he’s by far the strongest kid in the class. This has the side effect that he uses that strength to toss people to the floor and then lay on top of them (Which I don't personally see a problem with. I mean it might be different if he was the one being tossed to the floor.) But it's not in a mean spirit; it's in play. He just doesn’t know how to control his strength yet. The teacher said that he plays rough, but she amended it later to that he’s very athletic. He has a high motor, he has lots of energy, and he’s very active. To offset that, he’s also very creative and artistic, which she said was unusual for someone with his athleticism. He is very focused on his art, taking the time to work on the finer details. Usually athletic kids have a short attention span and just like to jump up and run around. All in all, I like that he’s active, so I’m not going to change the way I play with him. Those other kids will just have to toughen up! (I blame their fathers for not playing with them more.)

Secondly, he never plays the victim. He has a simple and direct approach to conflict resolution. Use your size and strength when necessary, otherwise just walk away. If someone takes his toy, he doesn’t cry or get upset. If he wants the toy back, then he simply rips it out of their hands. If he didn’t really care about the toy, then he shrugs and walks away to find something else. Because of this, he’s earned the nickname “the gentle giant.” We love that he's neither the bully or the bullied.

And lastly, Troy loves to laugh. Not just laugh, but to make others laugh. He’ll say or do something goofy, and when one of his friends or teachers laughs, it fuels him to keep going. He feeds off the reaction. She said that he has a great sense of humor, and she asked where he gets that from. We both do, but I guess this behavior mostly mirrors my own, if I were to be honest.

Hey...

We put Troy down for bed tonight, like we do every night, and he was quietly laying in his bed sucking on his pacifier. After half an hour, I thought he must be asleep, so I snuck into the room to get my toothbrush. As I walked silently across the room, I heard a gentle, quiet whisper say, “Hey.”

It was almost as if Troy didn’t want to scare me, but he also wanted me to know that he was still awake and watching me. I quietly whispered back, “Hey,” and he said it back to me again to confirm receipt. That was it. That’s all he said. But it was so sweet and cute.

Time Out

We were watching church online this morning, and Troy was insistently trying to distract us with toys, books, and conversation. When trying to explain the importance of church to him didn't work, I turned the volume up, and ignored him. When he didn’t get the reaction that he desired, he started crying in a full-out tantrum. His wails got so loud and distracting that I had finally had enough. So, I put him in his bed in our bedroom, and I shut the door. I let him stay in there in his “time out,” crying on and off, for seven minutes until church was over. I’m sure he didn’t understand, and I don’t really like having to get to that extreme. But we all need a reset sometimes to have a few moments to get control of our emotions and reface the world. And I felt like this was one of those times for Troy.

All Done!

Declan doesn’t like getting his hair washed. He's not fond of baths in general, but messing with the hair in particular is more of an issue. So as soon as CC puts shampoo on it, Declan says "all done," shaking his hands in the sign language gesture of "all done" for added emphasis. CC tries to reason with him by telling him that he’s not done yet, he just started. Declan starts crying in protest that HE’S all done, even if CC isn’t!

Sweet, Sweet Boy!

Since Troy has gotten so bad about opening doors, I have taken to locking the bathroom door when I go in there for any extended period of time. With his usual disregard for personal space, he still tries to open it. When he can’t, he’ll slide a couple of books under the door, so I have something to entertain me while I’m in there. Which is both funny and sweet. Sometimes I’ll also get a toy or part of a stuffed animal, if he’s not feeling the book thing that day.

The Picky Thief

Now that Troy is taller, he’s more discerning about what he thieves from the kitchen drawers.

He used to only be able to drape his little hand over the side, but since he couldn’t see in the drawer, he’d just move it around until he felt something interesting. Then, he’d grab it and take off with it.

Now that he can see into the drawer, he takes his time to rifle through everything and pick exactly what he wants. He’s still sneaky about it, doing it stealthily when we’re not looking. And he covers his tracks, closing the drawer back when he’s done! We had to move things like knives and scissors into a cup on the counter to keep him from taking them out of the drawer.

He has the height of a three or four-year old, but the mischievous steak of a two-year old.

My Turn!

When I went to pick Troy up today, the teacher said that he got excited and exclaimed, “It’s my turn!” Troy usually reserves this phrase for claiming food, or a toy, or some other item that you have that he wants...even if you’re not quite done with it yet, like the fork you’re currently using to eat your food. So, I found it funny that he had found a new use for the phrase to express that it was finally his turn to be picked up by a parent. When she opened the door, he shot out of the room and leaped into my arms. It was an amazing feeling to be wanted and loved that much.

Mother's Day - Part 3

My wife was going outside this morning to show her mother her new flowers. Troy saw her head out, and he wanted to go too. He was crying at the back door, trying to turn the handle, getting more agitated with each second that it refused to turn. I told him that he couldn’t go outside because he didn’t have any shoes on. He stopped to consider my statement for a few seconds, and then he disappeared. The next thing I know, he’s standing at the back door again with one shoe on, and his foot sliding into the other one! I didn’t even know he knew how to put his shoes on yet, and he got them on the correct foot! He never ceases to amaze me. So, I velcroed his shoes for him, opened the door, and off he went...without pants. Oh well, I didn’t stipulate that he needed pants, so I couldn’t insist upon it.

The Baby Translator

I find myself having to translate for Troy to well, everyone. I have no issues understanding him and what he’s trying to say. But my parents, little kids on the playground that are a few months older, and even my wife struggle to get everything Troy’s laying down.

I was explaining this to my stepmother, and she said that maybe it’s my uncanny gift to be able to get accents so well. I can easily understand people from other countries within a few minutes of speaking with them. It doesn’t matter if it’s Greek, Irish, or Indian dialects. Maybe she’s right. I guess Troy’s take on words is very similar to having an accent, so maybe that’s why I pick it up so easily. Who knows. All I do know is that when people aren’t getting him, Troy turns to me and gives me a look, which means, “Yo, daddy-o, explain it to these fools!”

Helping Hand

Today, we received a text message from Troy’s daycare teacher with a picture attached. Apparently, when they called the kids to lunch, Troy stood up right away. But instead of running to the table, he reached down and grasped the hand of his friend, and helped him up. Then, he made sure that he got to the table okay. The teacher put a caption on the picture of “Sweetest boy ever!!!”

No Replacement for Mama

My wife has been working on a grant that needed to be submitted by tonight. She’s been working on it non-stop since Saturday, so Troy and I have had to keep each other company for the last few days. While she has tried to take breaks to spend 10 min here and 10 min there with us, it’s really felt like she’s been absent around here. She’s here, but not really here. I’ve done my best to distract Troy and keep him away from her, so she can focus on her work. I know she’s stressed with all that’s left to do.

But tonight Troy decided that enough was enough. No matter how I tried to keep him in the den with me, he kept running into her office. My wife would bring him back into the den, only to have Troy make a beeline back to her. I tried to block him from going, and he burst into tears. Finally frustrated, my wife came out to spend a little time with him before he went to bed. As she sat down on the couch with Troy, he wrapped his little arms around her, and he said, “I missed you.”

It was enough to break my heart. I’ve missed my wife too, but not wanting her to feel bad, I’ve kept it to myself. But Troy wears his emotions right out on his snot-covered sleeves. He’s so honest and pure. It was absolutely beautiful.

Counting Fish

This morning when I dropped Troy off at daycare, a young black woman was working the front desk. She greeted Troy by name with a cheery and pleasant disposition. After bidding me a good day, she took Troy’s little hand and led him into the building. He pointed at the fish tank, and she said, “Do you want to stop and count the fish?” So, they counted the fish together, and she took the time to talk to him about the different fish and how they work together to create an ecosystem. Troy listened with rapt attention and asked “questions,” which the nice young woman eagerly answered with patience and kindness.

The reason I bring this moment up is that in this day and age with all of the racism protests, I saw a sweet and innocent interaction between two people of different colors. Neither held the color of the other against them. The interaction was nice and respectful. In fact, I’d bet that neither even saw the color of the other, or if they did, it was a passing observation, rather than an attribution of stereotypes. It made me proud that my son is not afraid, or suspicious, or judgmental of someone because of the color of their skin. He chooses to judge their heart instead. That type of love and acceptance is how we want to raise him.

Proud

The daycare teacher told my wife today that Troy has an enormous knowledge of animals. There's not a single one that is in their books that he doesn't know. He even knows complex ones like a "walrus." I guess she was expecting him to confuse it with a seal, but I've been teaching him to recognize them by their teeth. I hate to tell her that he actually knows the difference between a regular seal and an elephant seal. And if she thinks a walrus is complex, well, he can identify and say "caterpillar" too. As well as "dragonfly," "crocodile," and "wildebeest," which to me are more complex words than "walrus." And on top of that, he knows some animals in Greek and English, like "duck," "wolf," "turtle," "chicken," "goose," "turkey," "elephant," "dolphin," "penguin," and "snake." Helona (turtle) and papaki (duckling) are actually his two favorite Greek words.

From animals, the conversation naturally led into Troy's vocabulary in general. Apparently, it's quite extensive in comparison to the other children. I have to say that when I heard this, I was beaming with pride. Troy is a sponge, and I'm a willing faucet...spewing my watery words at him as fast as he can suck them up. I don't shy away from big words or words in other languages. If he's struggling, then I'll slow down and repeat it until he can say it too. It's awesome to hear that it's paying off, and that other people are noticing how quickly he's developing. I just love my little man.

Uncle!

I was wrestling on the floor today with Troy, and I had him laying on my chest, while I had my arms and legs wrapped around him. He was unsuccessfully squirming to try to get away, and I said, “Say ‘uncle’! Say ‘uncle’!” Of course, he stubbornly refused and continued to fight. But after realizing that resistance was futile, he reluctantly screamed out, “Uncle!” As I released him to run free, my wife burst out laughing and gave me a high five. She said, “That was awesome! I can’t believe you made him say that.” I hadn’t just beaten him, I’d broken his spirit and made him admit defeat as well. It didn’t take him long to get cocky again, so I’m off to wrestle him to the floor a second time.