Circus people...with dental.

One last sink bath last summer before they were both too big

Jack didn't want to get out of bed this morning. Me neither. For him though, this is unusual. We're more accustomed to him leaping from the bed at 6:45am demanding cocoa and cartoons. What gives? Hmmm. Let me think. 


Several months ago Jack's best friend Cleo's mom informed us that they might be moving away to San Francisco for the year. I was devastated. But also in denial. I didn't really think it would happen. They are in a band, and while some of their gigs are here in LA, and elsewhere in the world, many of them are in Northern California. So they've been flying EVERY weekend, leaving the girls with their nanny, once or twice with us, or sometimes taking them with them, and having their SF nanny watch them while they're at gigs. For anyone who has kids under the age of 5 (and isn't Brangelina) you know this was unsustainable. They missed the girls, the girls missed them, and the traveling was getting exhausting (and expensive). So they had to go. 

She and Him in the making

For months, I've been butting my nose in business that is not my own, except to spare my son the agony of losing his best friend, and me losing our little neighborhood fun. We have casual dinners and borrow eggs and sugar, and live, you know, like people do. This is something I never thought I'd find here in LA, given our strange occupations. We have another neighbor couple, who are in the business, she is a make-up artist and he is a grip (if you don't know what that is HERE). He once said " our jobs? We're like Circus people, but with dental insurance". It's true. 

Jobs are fleeting. They come, they go. For some of us they are several weeks, or months, or years, but mainly they are a few days, or even a few hours. During which you form quick, but not necessarily meaningful bonds with the people with whom you work. A lot of times it is physically and mentally exhausting. But mostly, it's temporary. There is a lot of time spent, just sitting around, waiting.

"yes Cleo, keep reading, I'm TOTALLY listening"

For Nipper Knapp and I this has been a blessing as parents. We've had the chance to spend most days with Jack, and really be with him these first 3 years. Until he was 18 months, he didn't even have a babysitter, he went with us to our auditions, and we were able to juggle watching him when one of us worked. It's hard to explain to him that this arrangement is unusual because it's all he's ever known. But Cleo is a constant. Home or at school, she has always been around. They were born 2 weeks apart.

One last car nap

one last trip to the zoo

one last dig in the sandbox

Lately more and more, we hear his repeated mantra "But I just want to be with you guys". I totally get it. He doesn't want to leave the circus and go to work. This moring, I spent a good ten minutes trying to decide if 3 1/2 is too young to start having "mental healthy days". I mean the kid goes to "school" (I use this term loosely because mostly it's snack time, craft time, run around on the playground time over there) 3 days a week, and spends the other 4 blasting me with "guns" that shoot gummy bears, roughhousing with his dad, and generally running wild. How much mental health recuperation could he possibly need?

Today Cleo and her family left for San Francisco, but just for the weekend. They'll be back on Monday, and won't leave for good until February 1st. So Jack didn't want to get out of bed, or go to school, and I don't blame him. When we got finally got there he said "I think Cleo is going to be here any minute." Thinking about what to tell him to make it all ok, all I could think was "kiddo, you've got to do this for another 15 years so let's make the best of it." NOT exactly inspiring words. I just hugged him, kissed him, and told him he should try to play with some other friends at school. All the while thinking about how much I hated it when teachers made us get into groups and work on something when I was in school. Nerdmom is a lone reed...

one last "it's ok Jack, I've got you"

Any words of wisdom on how to help a 3 1/2 year old deal with the loss of his best friend, shyness, making new friends, leaving the circus, or how to get my carny brain to conform so I can make the dreaded playdate with other moms and their kids, would be appreciated. 

Not if the Nipper Knapps can stop you!

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". 

mon garçon mignon

Nipper Knapp and I went to see the Lycee International de Los Angeles this morning. Quelle suprise, we'll be applying for 2011. If we don't get in, I don't know what we'll do. We don't have a "safety school", for PRE-SCHOOL. (eye roll, sigh) If he gets in, he can go there through his senior year in high school. Having gone to several schools, I'd love for him to grow up with the same kids in one place. Especially in a big city like Los Angeles. He'll be bi-lingual by 6 or 7, and in school with kids from all over the world. It would be a stretch for us financially, but what's the alternative?

Just read something online about the LAUSD that cemented my view, that noble though the idea of public education is, (I am partially the product of one), it is not an option for us here in LA. A little piece of my idealism just died. But I'm a mom, and Jack Knapp life is not a social experiment. Man I wish I'd know how exhausting weighing all these parenting decisions would be. The land of opportunity is so, if you are willing to beat your brains out, and throw caution to the wind.

In the mean time I'm allaying my education anxiety by embroidering sweet little things on the quilt panels for the quilt I'm making. That's right, I'm quilting. Who knew. Here's one:

Ma fille mignonne