The Reign of Becky

I have mentioned in the past that the Mud Puddle is named after the sock monkey my brother loved as a child. How at the age of 3 (or 4) he came up with the name ‘Joshua’ I don’t know but there it is.

One of the most interesting aspects of Maternal Anthropology (I may have to get that copyrighted – inventing parenting terms and entertaining the world at the same time WOOT) is the whole debate of nurture vs. nature – environment vs. genetics (only slightly less heated than Superman vs. Batman or crunchy vs. smooth – Superman and smooth in case you were curious). The idea that things beyond hair color, height, and ear wax could be inherited is fascinating to me.

The Mud Puddle has shown a propensity for doing things that are within the family fabric but aren’t considered ‘genetic” in other words – he acts like family members in weird ways that aren’t learned behavior.

The example today is the Joshua/Becky connection. Joshua the sock monkey, meet Becky the Nutcracker.
My brother as a child knew of no Joshuas. Not in his circle of friends, our family or on tv. This was a name he must have heard somewhere and it stuck to his cerebral cortex to be later applied to a stuffed animal.

Joshua does not know anyone named Becky nor is there one in his pop cultural landscape (books or tv). So somewhere at one time he heard the name Becky and it stuck. Now he refers to all Nutcrackers as Becky. He has Big Becky – the four foot tall Nutcracker and his army of Little Beckys in various sizes. So why the fascination with Becky (and for that matter with Nutcrackers)? I have no idea.

He has a Rebecca at school now (a year and change after the first Becky was so christened) and when I told him Becky is short for Rebecca she instantly became his girlfriend. Our first real live Becky.

I wonder how far this Becky thing will go? Will he date a Becky? Marry a Becky? Only hang with girls who are named Becky? I don’t know but I find it very interesting that Beckys have become a part of the team Guillemette Lexicon the way that Joshua was a part of the Hallowell vocabulary.

This couldn’t just be a coincidence, could it? I believe way too much in conspiracy theories (Oswald was not the lone gunman but we did land on the moon) to start believing THAT. I am hopeful that once science is able to cure AIDS, Cancer, and the common Canker Sore than can start isolating the Joshua/Becky gene and we can get to the bottom of this.

Happy Mudder's Day!

So as you all know Mother’s Day was this past weekend and the Mud Puddle did right by his old mum. It was a sunny, funny weekend. The perfect mix of happy surprise and family bonding that I love.
My ‘official’ present from the Mud Puddle was a skull necklace. It is a diamond like jewel encrusted number and very pretty. I, of course love it, as I am his First Mate and pirate sweetheart. I have worn it everyday this week. I am sure any other mother would have been less than thrilled to receive such a gift but it is such a perfect reflection of who the Mud Puddle is right now and our shared interest in the ‘dark side’ of things. I am looking forward to sharing the complete works of Stephen King with him when he is 12. There is A LOT to talk about there.

My other present from the Mud Puddle (I received some equally cool gifts from Scott but this blog is about the MP) was very typical four year old stuff but funny none the less.
We had been working out in the yard on Saturday and my dad and Scott were doing some work on the fence (tearing parts down, shoring other parts up). Of course with all of this work going on it meant that there was a lot of dirt flying around and where there is dirt you will find worms. The Mud Puddle started collecting them and holding them in his hand, making me hold them in MY hand (which I was ok with, worms good, spiders BAD) and showing them to people.

He decided that the worms were dirty and asked for some water to clean them up. So I brought him a bucket of water (not really sure if worms could swim or breath under water but not really caring much either). He ‘washed’ his worms and they looked kind of pale after the clean up but still seemed to be moving.

At some point he seemed to move on from his worms and we headed out to Home Depot (what home project doesn’t involve at least one trip to the Home Depot? As a child I remember my dad putting up our basketball hoop and making at least three trips to the hardware store and one trip to the emergency room – home repair and improvement projects are dangerous people).

So in the line at the Home Depot having loaded two carts (Scott and Dad: manly fence repair items. Mom and Me: flowers and more flowers) the Mud Puddle and I are chatting away when he tells me he has a present for me (we were celebrating Mother’s Day on Saturday b/c my mom was headed out of town on Sunday). He unzips the side pocket on his shorts and with a boisterous “HAPPY MUDDERS DAY” he hands me a dry, pale mostly dead worm.

Apparently after cleaning them he had decided to keep them close by putting them in his pocket for safe keeping. My dad quickly stifled a laugh (I was snorting mine out through my nose) and suggested we put the worm in one of the plant pots to see if it would perk up a little bit in the dirt. All I can say is THANK THE LORD we found it before the shorts were put in the wash (worm guts on a load of laundry I am guessing is not all that funny and rather gross to boot). As I have mentioned before I don’t check pockets (and even if I did feel the urge to turn some inside out this was a side zipper pocket that I wouldn’t have bothered with even in my most June Cleaver/Carol Brady laundry moment).

I am not sure what happened to the worm after its transfer to the flower pot but I appreciate the gesture and the fact that he loved me enough to give me a CLEAN dead worm.

It all can change with the right pair of shoes

Usually when I talk about the Mud Puddle I do so with broad strokes and over arching themes: things that take a while to percolate and bubble up to the surface. Patterns and actions that form over TIME. Today, my friends, we are going to cover a day (actually three hours) like no other, a day (evening) when I realized he had shed every last layer (as Shrek would say: “like an onion” and as donkey would counter: “what about a parfait? Everyone loves a parfait!”) of his baby-ness and toddler-ness and become a full fledge boy.

As we have covered in past posts the Mud Puddle is a swimmer, therefore he takes swim lessons. I don’t know that he learns a lot but it gives him a chance to swim the length of the pool two or three times every week. So last week we started a new session and he is now a Ray (your aquatic name represents your ability level: he graduated from an Eel to become a Ray I think Starfish is next). After the obligatory going over of the rules (which the Mud Puddle paid no attention to whatsoever as he was gazing longingly at the water sitting mere feet away) his new teacher called them over to the blocks (starting blocks they use for swim meets and such) to go ahead and jump into the pool.

Now, the Mud Puddle LOVES jumping into the pool just not from any real height – props to him he is the only kid in the class without a bubble but he had as yet not tackled a ‘big’ jump into the water. That all changed on the first Ray day. He stepped to the front of the line, climbed the block without hesitation and cannon-balled into the water getting his classmates and his teacher wet. He climbed out of the water with a big grin on his face and gave me the thumbs up. He jumped off the block three more times (the final time cutting in front one of his classmates who was not paying attention). This in and of itself, exciting but not life changing. But wait, there is more!

So after swim lesson we headed off in search of dinner. We usually do take out on Thursday nights but since we were going solo (Scott had other plans) I decided we could eat in somewhere (he is obsessed with eating in and will rope any unsuspecting dinner companion into going in instead of hitting the drive through).
But first we had to stop and get the Mud Puddle some shoes as he had worn holes in the two pair he was currently wearing. We swing up to Old Navy and take a look at their sneaker selection. To my surprise his feet have grown AGAIN and he is now a size 12 (which is good b/c his Uncle Quentin has hooked him up with some really nice sneaks that fit him now). Let me give you some perspective on why this is significant. The age range listed with the size 12s at Old Navy are 6-7. So the average six year old wears this size – not a 4 and a half year old. His best friend is about his height and wears a size 9. The Mud Puddle has very large puppy paws and is one size away from ‘men’s shoes” (sure, I don’t’ know any men that wear a 1 but still, it is a milestone).

Ok big feet and no fear of jumping off the blocks. Good, but the clincher was to come. Conveniently located next to Old Navy is Burger King the current home of the best kids’ meal toys in town: Spiderman 3 paraphernalia. So we go in, get our orders (and his crown) and sit down to eat. We are facing the beverage machines while eating and chatting. All of a sudden the Mud Puddle informs me “Mommy, that sign says Fresh Coffee”. Which it did but how the heck does he know that??? So I ask him to read me some other things and he gets Diet Coke and Ice and SpiderMan. Holy crap! He is reading big words and not just stuff he has memorized. Is he ready for “War and Peace”? Heck no, but he has taken a giant leap forward in his literacy quest.

All of these events transpired over a couple of hours and left me happy, proud and a bit melancholy. But I quickly got over that and got back to the business of enjoying our time together.

A Pirate's Life for Me

We have touched a bit on the Mud Puddle’s pirate side in the past. But the extent of the eye patch love has reached new heights in recent months so I thought it deserved a mention.
First off, the Mud Puddle has turned his bunk beds (he calls them bump beds and he likes to sleep on the top bump) into his own pirate ship.

I MAY have gone a little ballistic at Target purchasing pirate accessories, but I am only trying to nurture his imagination. He has pirate sheets, pirate fairy lights, a pirate table lamp and a pirate pillow.
We bought him special pirate costume pjs in London. The first night he had them on he fell asleep with the head scarf half on and his eye patch flipped up onto his forehead. It was VERY cute. But we are not cute pirates we are SERIOUS pirates.

In addition to turning his bed into a pirate ship he also turned his grandfather’s office into a pirates' den while he was staying with the Grandparents a few weeks back. He and Grampy were pirates and did pirate-y things apparently.

I bought him a rather pricey (but fun) pirate book last week and he informed me it came complete with a boating license, he gave me a license too so that I could be his First Mate, which I took as a pretty high honor. He then went on to inform me that Scott is Second Mate and the dogs are pirate dogs and he wants to make them walk the plank.

When you ask him what he wants to be when he grows up he says either a pirate or a veterinarian (well he says animal doctor, but I can barely pronounce the V word so why should he). I don’t think he understands the implications of what being a modern day pirate would entail (one of my friends suggested that the equivalent might be a hedge fund manager!). But I think he likes the idea of being captain of a ship (bossing people around) and making them walk the plank is very appealing to him.

I take complete blame for him being a pirate fiend. We went to watch the second "Pirates of the Caribbean" movie some months back and I suggested rather strongly that it might not be a good idea for him to watch it because Davy Jones was a little bit scary looking.

Well in true Man fashion (and being half Hallowell the stubborn streak is a mile wide) he decided not only was Davy Jones NOT scary it was his favorite character. Great. So now I have two Davy Jones action figures lying around my house and he talks about him ALL THE TIME.

We haven’t decided if we will take him to see the third one at the theater (it is one thing to watch those movies in your own living room with the lights on it is something completely different to be surrounded by strangers in the dark), he has expressed great excitement about going but we will see just how good a pirate he is between now and then.