It's not like I don't do ANY parenting around here. I mean sure, I spend a good deal of time holed up in the my pink cocoon, sewing, and editing, and concocting new ways to expend psychotic amounts of energy on creative endeavors. But most people go to work all day. I'm at least an intermittent influence on the kid. We are totally working on teaching Jack the fundamentals, the good stuff, all the things he'll need to get by from pre-school and beyond.
Of course we haven't actually enrolled him in pre-school which has caused several outraged looks, a few head shakes, and one friend to shout "NOOOOOOOO" to Nipper when he mentioned we thought we'd keep him home until he was 4. You'd think he'd told them that we were thinking of giving him up for adoption, as opposed to saying that we thought maybe since we're both at home, and he has a loving, intelligent nanny, and he goes to every child edifying (read: soul crushingly boring for mommy) toddler class including, music, swimming, and FRENCH, that Jack's doing just fine. I'm sure I'm wrong. I'm sure all this love and attention is destroying my kid. But it's my plan and I'm sticking to it.
Here's what he learned this week:
How to fake cry. He's pretty good too. He makes a little whimper sound at the beginning that's pretty convincing. But then he sells himself short by saying "I'm fake crying boo hoo hoo hoo". If he can lose the urge to show and not tell, I see James Lipton giving him the Proust Questionnaire in his future
How to pick up trash with a hydraulic side-loader. The department of sanitation (Jack's favorite municipal service) had a family fun fair on Saturday. I know! Kids and trash. Yippee! Jack was one of the last kids there, which is good, because we're not much for crowds around here. It was also good because he got to sit in each truck for 10 or 15 minutes while the guy hauled an empty can up and down and honked the horn. Did I mention it was in the main truck yard that we drive by on our way home all time. When we get close to it on the freeway Jack asks us to roll down the window, and then we all wave like maniacs, and shout "HI DUDES" as we pass. SO yeah, he got to go there. To top it all off, when the garbage man came on Tuesday, he happened to have been one of the guys who was there Saturday. He pulled up in front of our house, and shouted "Hey! I know that kid!" Then he honked his horn a bunch of times, and said I'll see you next year!" Then Jack swooned, because this guy is basically Jesus, John, and Elvis, (thanks D.S.) and now he KNOWS Jack.
The last thing he learned this week, is, I'm guessing the skill he'll find the most useful. Nipper taught him to say "Yeah, see" just like Edward G. Robinson. I thought, "why stop there?" So now we're working on getting him to say "Not if the Nipper Knapps can stop you" like an old timey gangster, any time someone is about to do something mischievous. This is proving more difficult because it's a mouthful with the accent, sort of coming out all mumbly like Burgess Merideth as the penguin. And at 2 3/4 he's not the best judge of when someone is about to get themselves into deep doo doo. He doesn't even know when he's about to pee yet.
Oh also, this is his uncle Dick. He's a super talented musician. He wrote this song, and I think maybe I've posted it here before because I love it so much. He's just one of the many incredible people our little sprout has in his posse. I think he's gonna be just fine. But please, if you see me in public, feel free to avert your gaze, and mutter "that poor child".