March 23, 2013 by Julia
Jack has become totally, utterly, entirely obsessed with vehicles. Every circle he comes across must be a wheel in abstract form. Parking lots are exciting places. Way more exciting than the grocery store or library, that’s for sure. Every picture book must have a car, or a tractor, or a plane hidden somewhere, even if it’s one of his big sister’s girly books.
Our conversations about cars go like this:
“Look, Jack, this is a car.”
“Can you say CAR?”
“CAR! It’s a car, Jack.”
“Vroom vroom,” he says, casually.
Turn the page.
“See the TRUCK, Jack?”
We’ve been trying to get him to say car, or truck, or wheel for weeks, now. Vroom vroom has become a family joke – our catchphrase. We say vroom vroom approximately one hundred fifty times a day. Possibly more.
I’m not sure why Jack refuses to say car or truck. He is definitely capable of forming the words, or at least something similar to them. But you could say “car” to him twenty times, and he’ll respond twenty times with “vroom vroom.” Maybe it’s his way of taking ownership of the whole concept; HE discovered that things with wheels can go fast, and he’s not going to use our boring words for it, which don’t give any indication of the sounds these awesomely fast things make.
In other Jack news: the tantrums have arrived. So too has the inclination to make a run for it in public places the SECOND I let go of his arm, which is tricky if I’m trying to put on my jacket. I usually end up chasing him with one arm through one sleeve, the rest of my jacket flapping. Also, he has discovered the joy of screaming, just for the heck of it. (It seems to be especially fun in the car.) I kinda like that last development, though, believe it or not. I can understand the feeling behind it. He and Fiona get going, and it’s like this thrilling release. Giggle, scream, laugh, scream, run. If I could hit some of those high-pitched notes, I’d probably make it a daily practice, too.
As much as he loves to run away the minute we step outside our front door, if we’re inside the house, it’s a different story. He wants to be on me, or at the very least have my full attention. He’s pretty clingy, to the point that I’ll be trying to make dinner, and he’ll be wrapped so tightly around my legs that I can’t walk. When I try to put him down after carrying him around he instantly goes into little monkey mode – by the time you detach his feet, his arms have wrapped back around your neck. He’s either laughing, or doing that toddler frantic breathing thing that usually builds to a mad cry.
The whole “I can’t do anything with Jack around” thing is rough, but I do love holding him (duh). He fully rests his soft blonde head on my shoulder, nestled in. He knows how to hold on tight, in a fitted hug. Sometimes, I prolong the rocking at night. This is saying a lot, considering that the minute the kids are in bed, our adult freedom begins. But this boy…his cheek on my collarbone, my cheek on his soft warm forehead. He hums along as I sing to him. It’s the perfect, tender cuddle.
And now for my first video ever shared here! I was trying to capture Fiona and Jack making funny faces while eating sour raspberries, but it quickly evolved into another vroom vroom conversation when he noticed that the polka dots on my socks looked like wheels.