Division of labor

Off to Pete's first piano recital. His job: enjoy the experience and play the best "Sleepy Alligator" he can play. Mine: monetize it.

A boy who discerns the best things in life

I recently heard a non-Christian talking about how much she enjoyed the great traditional carols of the Christmas season, to the point where she wanted her kids to know that music, too. She contrasted these carols with the winter songs that kids sing in school now--the genre most eminently represented by "Frosty the Snowman."

I reported that person's comments to Carolyn and said that I love the traditional Christmas music as well, and I'm glad Pete is getting to know it. Overhearing this conversation, Pete raised his hand--obedient kindergartener that he is--and waited for me to finish the thought. When I did, he said, "I was thinking we should get the recording of dogs and cats singing the Sleigh Ride song."

He paused, then continued in a knowing, confidential tone: "It's VERY funny."

I think he had his thirteenth birthday while I was gone

Pete wanted to get up early today, so I made a deal with him: you can go downstairs and play, and I'll lie on the couch. This worked pretty well, and I dozed on and off. Then I woke up and realized that I didn't know where he was. I went upstairs to find him pressing his head next to the stereo in his room, listening to They Might Be Giants.

The depressing middle section of a "Behind the Music" episode

Pete: [bangs sticks more or less rhythmically on a wooden cobbler's bench]

Carolyn [sings]: There was a farmer had a dog, and Bingo was his name-o!

Pete [stops drumming]: No, mama, that's not what I'm playing!

The song begins.

Pete started singing a couple of days ago, completely out of the blue. I've written before about how sudden these developments are. This time, he went from having never sung a note of the alphabet song to singing almost all of it on his own in two days. This video--a dark and grainy one, alas--captures the transition from passive to active ABCs.

Pete becomes a toddler

I haven't written much about Pete lately, so as the Super Bowl winds down, I'll try to capture some of what it's been like to watch him pass his second birthday and careen into full-fledged toddlerhood.

We've been struck by how Pete develops in streaks and bursts. For example, he was a little slow to pick up his numbers; he had gotten pretty good at identifying two of something, and he had become fond of five ("Pie!") as a word for more than two. He had said three only sporadically and almost never four. Furthermore, he had never counted, even to two. Last Sunday, we all came downstairs in the morning, and Pete was standing in the kitchen as Carolyn prepared the coffee that would fuel the day. Pete looked around, then, as Carolyn put the scoops of coffee in the filter, said with complete authority, "One! Two! Three! Four! Five!" Or, phonetically, "One! Choo! Fwee! Fo-or! Pie!" And he squealed and clapped and laughed until he fell on his butt.

He's still shaky with three and four, and he still likes shooting balls at his hoop more than counting them--these developments have been complicated and cyclical, but the initial gains can be flashes of lighting. Just as he passed that tipping point from not counting to counting in a night, he later did a somersault out of the blue and began without warning to catch thrown balls; the kid who wouldn't leave our grasp in a swimming pool eight months ago wanted immediately to climb the ladder and jump in by himself this winter. In the last few weeks, Pete has gone from identifying no letters to naming about half the capitals most of the time.

I say these things not to brag about Pete but to wonder at toddlerhood: this is the stuff kids learn at Pete's age, but I find myself endlessly amazed by the way the process plays out, and my favorite part is how--as in the counting breakthrough--Pete takes such joy in the new things he can do.

Oh, a random bit of fun from the last week: Pete continues to love music--playing it as he can (mostly drums and kazoo), listening, watching videos, whatever. Becuase Carolyn's dad plays banjo, that is one of Pete's favorite instruments, so I found him this vidoe of Bela Fleck and the Flecktones. As we watched it together after breakfast a few days ago, Pete started holding his nose and saying, "oooo." Over and over. After watching this for a minute I realized what was happening: Pete was playing harmonica! So we learned that word and looked for other harmonica videos. Excellent.

Saxophonic names in the feminine

[someone] provides a useful set of girls' names based on the saxy boys' list:

Cannonballa
Pharoaha
Texi
Zootella
Ornetta
Dexterette
Groverine
Boni
Branfordina
Fatheadiqua

Outstanding, say I . Boni! Ha! Is that also the plural of Bono?

Saxophonic names

[someone], checking in by email, sent me a long list of saxophone players' names as baby possibilities. Here are some of the best. Music fans, how many last names do you know?

Cannonball
Pharoah
Tex
Zoot
Ornette
Dexter
Grover
Boney
Branford
Fathead

And sure, all of these are men's names, but some of them could work for girls, too, right? Does "Fathead" have to be a boy? I don't think so!