The Nightly Surprise

Every night, Steve and I peek in and check on Jack before we go to sleep. He's so cute cuddled up to his tigers, and it gives me an opportunity to give him and extra kiss.

Lately, this ritual has also been an unexpected source of entertainment.

A few nights ago, we checked on Jack, only to discover that this pajamas were crumpled at the foot of the bed and he was sleeping stark naked.

I have a four-year-old who sleeps in the nude, apparently.

I actually do know where he got the idea of sleeping naked. In Star Wars, Episode III, we see a shirtless Anakin sit up in bed after a nightmare. Jack wondered why he was naked; I explained that he just wasn't wearing a shirt and that sometimes grownups do that.

As would naturally follow, Jack did the same thing... in the dead of winter, on a night that I pretty much slept in a parka.

A few nights later, we heard some commotion up in his room, but since he stayed there and settled down pretty quickly, we let it go. Then, when we went to check on him, Jack was not in his bed. Instead, he had dragged his pillow and blanket onto the floor next to his bed, where he was sleeping, clutching a flashlight and surrounded by boys. The next morning, he explained that he went on a campout in his room.

Last night, again there was a lot of commotion (Jack does not have a future career as a ninja). It went on for so long, that Steve went upstairs to talk to him. Jack had locked his door and got very quiet when he heard Daddy's approach. He said in a wee, innocent voice that he was up to "No-sing" and agreed to settle down.

About an hour later, Steve said he wanted to go check on Jack - the suspense was killing him.

Jack was in his bed...

Dressed...

in his Santa Claus suit.

Inaccuracy!

The boys and I were hanging out reading the Sunday paper, and I handed Jack the Toys R Us ad. There were Star Wars toys on the cover, so I thought he'd be pleased. Instead, he found this image quite disturbing:



Jack marched is little self over to Steve, wielding the paper, a look of annoyance and confusion on his face. "Daddy," he demanded, "What's this all about?" Steve said that it was an ad for toys, and didn't they look cool? "No, no, no," Jack explained. "This kid is being a Stormtrooper, and he is holding a lightsaber and Stormtroopers do not have lightsabers!"

Steve had to agree that this was true.

Jack was determined to find a reasonable explanation for this strange phenomenon. Finally, he recalled that one time (in one of the prequels), Obi-Wan was dressed like a Stormtrooper, but considering that he is a Jedi, he did have his lightsaber. "That must be it," Steve quickly agreed, hoping to calm Jack down.

"But, Daddy! This Stormtrooper's lightsaber is red. Obi-Wan doesn't have a red lightsaber." I tried to open the door for another possibility, reminding Jack that when Luke pretended to be a Stormtrooper in Star Wars, he surely brought his lightsaber with him. (What, he was going to leave it on the Falcon? I don't think so.)

Jack sighed. "Mommy, this Stormtrooper's lightsaber is red. Obi-Wan and Luke don't have red lightsabers; only Sith Lords have red lightsabers."

The kid has a point.

A New Hope

Jack doesn't know this yet (and don't you punks tell him), but the three of us are going to Disney World next month. And while we're there, we will go to a Halloween party at the Magic Kingdom. We did last year, and the three of us dressed as The Incredibles. It really added to the (already huge amounts of) fun to be in family costumes, so Steve and I resolved to do it again.

When we broached the subject hypothetically - what costumes could we all wear for Halloween - Jack's answer was immediate: Star Wars guys. He'd be Anakin, I'd be Princess Leia, and Steve would be Luke. I think we all know that at this point, Steve and I are not even remotely humoring Jack; it's not like I'm Dora, Jack is Diego, and Steve is Rescue Pack (Roary would be Baby Jaguar); we are freaking psyched to wear Star Wars costumes.

Last night, we decided to surprise Jack with the costumes, which arrived in the mail. While he was downstairs talking to GrandmaGrandpa, Steve and I hurriedly put our costumes on. We were sure Jack would totally freak out, be overcome with joy and surprise.

We came downstairs, decked out in our Episode IV finery: Steve in Luke's Tattoine garb, complete with boots, utility belt, and blue lightsaber; me in white dress and cinnamon bun hair.

Jack's reaction?

"Oh, did my costume come, too?"

He did not freak out in the least. He completely rolled with it. That is because, in Jack's world, why wouldn't you dress like a Star Wars character if given the opportunity?

We did, however, have this conversation:

Jack: Mommy?
Me: Yes, Anakin?
Jack: Oh, Princess Leia? Can I talk to Mommy for a minute:
Me: What is it, Jack?
Jack: How did you get your hair to do that?
Me: It's a wig.
Jack: No, how did you get your hair to look like Princess Leia?

He finally got it when I took off the wig and put it on his head.

Vader's Faulty Memory

The last time we went to the library, Jack checked out a ton of coffee table style books about Star Wars. We were looking at one that is a "visual dictionary," with detailed information about all kinds of stuff related to the movies. The picture of R2-D2, for example, has a breakdown of every single gadget on the little droid.

On Saturday, Jack brought his Darth Vader action figure and the book over to me and "Vader" demanded that I read it to him. As we went through the book, it became clear that Vader has a rather selective memory about his life.

Me: Okay, Vader, that picture is of the droid that you used to torture your daughter, Princess Leia, for the location of the rebel base. Remember that?
Vader: Uh, no.

Hmmm.

Vader: Oh, lookit! There's my friend Boba Fett.
Me: That's right, Vader. Remember how you had him freeze Han Solo in carbonite and give him to Jabba so that you could lure Luke to Bespin? And turn him over to the dark side?
Vader: Uh, no.

Vader: Hey, a lightsaber.
Me: Vader, that is Luke's first lightsaber. It used to be yours, but Obi-Wan took it away from you when you guys had a huge battle-fight. Remember that?
Vader: Uh, no.
Me: And then Obi-Wan gave it to your son Luke so he could learn the force. And then Luke lost it when you cut off his hand. Remember that?
Vader: Uh, no.

Battle-Fight

For those of you who wondered how I'd fare in a head-to-head lightsaber battle-fight with my young Jedi, I give a dismissive, "Pfft."

Internet, please. I have been preparing for this since I was a kid, making a lightsaber from a stick and practicing my duals in Jedi training with my siblings.

I can take this kid down any day of the week.

Jack Wasser's Big Adventure, Part 2

Since Jack took off for the wilds of Southern Illinois on Tuesday, I've been keeping in touch with him with daily phone calls.

The kid is having a freaking blast.

Every day, he talks my ear off, all about how he went swimming three times, went on a hike with Poppa, has a new Lightning McQueen sleeping bag there, played with his glamorous older cousin Devin's old toys, and on and on.

There has not been a single hint of tears or "I miss you, Mommy."

This is a good thing. Because meanwhile, Steve and I have been having a great time, too. Things are awfully relaxed here, and I have time to do things like put cages around my tomatoes before work, sit around and read a magazine, fold laundry without a "helper," and go for long walks with Steve.

I think that Jack's Big Adventure will have lasted the ideal amount of time. He's having lots of special grandparent time, Steve and I got a break, and although none of us are pining for the other, we will all be happy to see each other later today.

There is just one hazard to having Jack spend all this time with his grandparents. Mr. Jackson W. Crazypants is now the proud owner of a lightsaber. A lightsaber of his very own was an inevitable purchase that Steve and I were attempting to delay. We'd point to the "Ages 4 and Up" on the package and lament that he couldn't have one yet. Not because we thought he'd hurt himself, but because we dreaded spending every waking moment of our days having "battle-fights" with Jack.

But now, battle-fight we will. Steve went to Target last night, and now all three of us have lightsabers.

Not Just an Excuse to Post a Picture of My Boyfriend Ewan...

Jack: Draw Obi-Wan.
Me: Okay.
Jack: No! Draw Ben instead.
Me: Obi-Wan and Ben are the same guy.
Jack: No, I want Ben. Not Obi-Wan.
Me: They’re the same guy.
Jack: ….
Me: Okay, what’s your name?
Jack: Luke.
Me: Um, when you’re not being Luke, what’s your name?
Jack: Jack!
Me: But sometimes, I also call you Cub, right?
Jack: Yeah.
Me: So, your name is Jack, but sometimes you’re called Cub. It’s like that with him – his name is Obi-Wan, but he’s sometimes called Ben.
Jack: …
Me: I just blew your mind, didn’t I?
Jack: Yeah.

Dear Santa...

Jack wrote his very first letter to Santa Claus (I took dictation). Here it is:

Dear Santa,
I have a table. I have some Star Wars guys. I want Ackbar. I don't have Grand Moff Tarkin. I want to get another Rancor. A green one. I want a pen. A necklace - black. I want Mommy in a castle. I want a castle with Mommy. Daddy will get all of the house. I want a bat. Now I want a wall. I have been a good boy. I want a reindeer and an elf and Mrs. Claus and some elves.

Love,
Jack


I am happy to report that Jack later decided that Daddy can live in the castle with us. And Roary. This is good, as I suspect we'd miss Daddy and Roary before too long, castle or no.

How Crazy Am I?

It's funny how my perspective has shifted over the past few months. Our calendar for this week has a really good amount of fun - last night was trick-or-treating, of course, and on Friday night, Steve and I are going on a date. We are going to watch the Quad City Symphony's rehearsal, then go out for dinner (margaritas? tbd).

A few months ago, I would have thought, "Yay, Halloween! Yay, fun date with the husband!"

Now, I still think that, but I also think, "Guess I'm not going running on either of those nights."

The good thing is, this is the time of what Tom at Runner's Lounge has dubbed "ordinary running." That is, I'm not really training for anything specific, just running for the sake of running. Because of that, I am not now thinking, "But if I get up at 5:00, I will have time to get in a medium length run before Jack wakes up and it's time to get ready for work."

I may be crazy, but at least right now, I'm not that crazy.

Also, I am not as crazy as a certain little boy who set up a detailed Jabba's Throne Room diorama on the coffee table this morning and proceeded to dance for Jabba.

Wasstoberfest

Autumn is Steve's favorite season. He is definitely starting to win me over. The boys and I had an amazing weekend, so full of autumn-themed activities it was like something out of a magazine.

Saturday morning, we headed to Boo at the Zoo, an event at nearby Niabi Zoo. Jack donned his Mickey Mouse costume, grabbed his pumpkin bucket, and collected an impressive amount of candy. He was happy not only to get candy, not only to be at the zoo, not only to be Mickey Mouse, but also to see the other kids in their costumes. He kept excitedly yelling, "LOOKIT!" and pointing to a princess, a pirate, a dinosaur, and so on. It was a beautiful day, and it gave Jack the opportunity to hone his skills at saying "Trick or treat" and "Thank you" loud enough for people to hear.

On Sunday morning, Steve somehow convinced the two of us that doing yard work would be fun. He and I took turns mowing the lawn and raking leaves with Jack. Jack participated as any reasonable kid would: by jumping into the leaves. Of course, he gave it his own twist, declaring that he was Han Solo, the leaves were the carbonite freezing chamber, and that I was Princess Leia, there to rescue him.

After that, the three of us went to the Family Museum for their Scarecrow Shenanigans event. Jack iced a sugar cookie and decorated it with M&Ms, practiced the bean bag toss, and decorated a mini pumpkin with googly eyes and pom poms. Then, imagine his delight when he found a little girl dressed like Minnie Mouse! The two of them realized the inherent cuteness of their pairing and spent a lot of time holding hands and hugging.

Today, Steve and I went to the Halloween party at Jack's school. The kids all got dressed up (suprisingly, there were no princesses in his class) and went to the nursing school next door trick or treating. Steve and I got there early and helped the teachers get the kids dressed and entertain the ones already in costume.

If you ever want an ego boost, hang out with a group of toddlers. Basically, if you are willing to be a tiny bit silly, or can make stuffed animals talk, or are willing to draw pictures, or will read a book with just a little bit of inflection, you are a rockstar. Jack was incredibly proud of how fun his mommydaddy were.

All of this, and we still haven't gone trick or treating yet!

Revenge of the Jedi

Parts of my childhood were completed consumed by all things Star Wars. I watched the movies over and over again. Memorized dialogue. My brother and I used to fall asleep every night with The Empire Strikes Back playing on a record player in the hallway between our bedrooms. We had all kinds of action figures, ships, toys, and play sets. Return of the Jedi trading cards. Yoda t-shirts. I'd lead Andy and Jenny in Jedi Training just about every day during the summer.

All of this, I'm sure, drove our parents nuts. My grandmother recalls taking Andy and me to see one of the Star Wars movies. While we were standing in line for a movie that Mimi had absolutely no desire to see, one of us commented that this would be the 10th time we'd seen the movie in the theater. She wanted to get in the car and go home right then and there.

And now, the tables have turned. Jack is a full-blown Star Wars maniac. He wants to watch the movies constantly. Play lightsaber "battle-fight." Pretend to be Luke escaping from the Wampa, and I play the roles first of Ghost Obi-Wan, then of Han (including slicing open imaginary tauntaun with his lightsaber). The only books he wants to read are the storybook versions of the movie.

He is amassing an impresive collection of Star Wars toys, and will quickly rattle off the ones that he wants to go look for right now: Boba Fett, the cricket (aka Salacious Crumb), Jabba's best friend (aka Bib Fortuna), the wampa, and so on.

He is, in short, absolutely crazy.

Steve was the exact same way when he was a kid. It could not be more obviousl that we got the correct baby at the hospital.

Jack is Awesome

This morning, Jack threw a gigantic, crying tantrum because he could not wear his sunglasses. So, what better time than now for me to remind myself of why Jack is awesome.

• Jack continues to prove that he is Steve's and my son with his Star Wars obsession. Yesterday, he looked in a stack of DVDs and handed me Return of the Jedi, saying, "Want watch this one, Mommy. Has Rancor in it." I absolutely love that he knows that, even though the Rancor isn't even on the box. I just got him some new Star Wars action figures, and it is a stitch to hear him playing with them. Vader will tell Luke, "Yuke, my your father," and Luke will yell "Nooo!" and jump off the coffee table. I also get a real kick out of hearing Jack say "bounty hunter."



• He is doing a really amazing job with the potty training. Last week was 98% accident free, which is pretty darned good for his first week of underwear. He no longer argues about whether or not he should try. He even once suggested it himself, without prompting. Last night, he came over and told me he'd had an accident. You might not think this is something to cheer about, but the silver lining is that he at least understood what happened, instead of complaining that his chair was wet. Yeah, your chair is wet; you peed on it. Duh.



• Steve and I used to say when Jack was a baby that his job was to spread joy everywhere he went. He was, after all, the smiliest baby you ever saw. Well, he continues to spread joy. You would not believe how he charmed every single person in the doughnut shop we went in on Saturday. He was all smiles, in a face completely covered in chocolate and sprinkles, happily chatting away about how we were going to swimming class and how he was going to throw his duck in the water.

I love the way he distinguishes Hank McCoy Beast from Beauty and the Beast Beast as "Blue Beast" and "Brown Beast."

The way he asks me, "Mommy, you going to runinng?" when he sees me in my running clothes. And that I can count on him for a high five and a kiss on the cheek when I get back.

The way he rubs Roary's tail when he's tired.

The fact that, thank Yoda, he seems to be over the seperation anxiety, at least for now. It's almost like a switch flipped and he realized, "Wait a minute! I have fun at GrandmaGrandpa house. Why would I cry?" and "School is great! My friends are here!"

Battle-Fight!

Yesterday, I suprised Jack with the Most Awesome T-Shirt Ever. I ordered it from Zazzle, which is a site that could be very financially dangerous for me. The shirt has a picture of the pivotal lightsaber battle (or, as Jack would put it, "Battle-Fight" from The Empire Strikes Back.

Side note: I totally should have ordered matching shirts for Steve and me so that we could have the world's geekiest Christmas card picture.

Jack was so thrilled with his new shirt that he was momentarily speechless. Then, he tugged at the shirt he was wearing and complained that it was "all dirty." He's a subtle one, that Jack. Naturally, he changed into his new Battle-Fight shirt and strutted around, all proud.

He has gotten really creative with his playing. First there were the drumsticks that have been transformed into lightsabers so that he (as Darth Vader) can battle-fight me (Princess Leia) or Steve (Luke).

Jack mixed things up the other day, though. Instead of using his lightsaber, he used a blaster -- that being a Baby Shrek toy from McDonald's, which looks nothing like a blaster and gives credence to the theory that boys will turn anything into a weapon. He decided he wasn't Vader, but instead was Luke. And that Darth Vader had gotten into his crib and needed to be blasted.

Hearing Jack say, "Oh, no! Vader in my crib again! Need blaster. Pew! Pew! Pew! Got him!" is just fabulous. He is such a mix right now between baby and kid.

Miracle

Saturday morning, Steve, Princess Fiona, and I loaded into the car for the six hour drive to visit my stepmom. Along the way, something comepletely miraculous happened: Jack entertained himself the entire time.

I know. I can't believe it either.

Usually, whoever's not driving has to sit in the backseat and provide all kinds of in-flight entertainment, from reading books to singing songs to performing with puppets. But this time, Jack contentedly blasted imaginary bad guys with his lightsaber, "read" books, and jammed along with my awesome Toddler Mix on the iPod. We stopped for lunch and Jack said, "Jack no go Donald's. Jack go Mawmaw's house." I promised him we'd go to Mawmaw's house after lunch, and that Donald's would have Shrek toys to look at, so he decided it'd be okay to take a break. Also, there was a Starbuck's next to the 'Donald's, so it was clearly an important place for us to stop.

After lunch, Steve decided he was too tired to drive or to hang out with Jack, so we put on the Shrek DVD for him. Towards the end, Jack wanted to also chat with us. Specifically, he wanted to have a fanboy conversation about "battle-fights." I swear, it could not be more obvious that he is our kid. We debated who would win in a battle-fight - Yoda or Shrek (Yoda, duh), Princess Fiona or Darth Vader (Jack and I are going to have to agree to disagree on that one), Spider-Man or Elmo, and so on.

As much as it occasionally pains me that he is growing up, I really like that he is becoming more and more of a real person, not just a little blob of need.

I'll Never Join You!

Last night, I was giving Jack a bath, and he apparently decided it was time to ramp up the cuteness. Jack has a set of drums that he can play in the bathtub, and he grabbed one of the sticks.

Jack: That ite-sader. Ho, hee, ho, hee!
Me: Are you saying lightsaber?
Jack: Yes!
Me: Are you Darth Vader?
Jack: Yes, Luke. Here. Here Mommy’s ite-sader.
Me: I get to be Luke?
Jack: Yes, Luke. Ho, hee, ho hee!

Is that not the most awesome thing ever? I was psyched that I got to be Luke. Usually when we do pretend stuff like that, it’s to play Dora the Explorer, and I always get stuck being lame-ass Dora. Jack is Boots, Daddy is Swiper, and Mommy is stuck being Dora and saying "Vamanos!" all the time. But Luke Skywalker, that's genuinely cool.

Also funny, Jack would drop his lightsaber (which made me think, “Ooh, just like Return of the Jedi”), and I’d hand it to him. Jack would say, “Thanks, Luke!” and I’d say, “You’re welcome, Darth Vader.” Those are not words I ever thought I’d say.