Further into Four

Jonah is a memory monster!

He received a beautiful memory game for his birthday. I was always (and believed this still to be true) the reigning champion of memory, any way, any day. My game growing up was Holland Memory, with its entertaining pictures of clogs, windmills, tiles, and strange sweets. Jonah calls his "Coney Island" Memory because it has circus images.

Tonight after dinner, he bounded over to Josh and asked, "Are you in a memory mood?" Abe was safely asleep, so the three of us got to play the game uninterrupted by a marauding 11-month-old. Tonight we played with 50 cards (the full set is 72 cards). Josh, uncharacteristically, possibly because he'd had a nap, and also because he'd not been to a bouncy castle birthday party today, beat the pants off me. What really made my jaw drop is that Jonah beat me, too! I was even more amazed because he was becoming visibly tired as we played, and his body started all of its usual fidgety sensory-seeking behaviors that drive us nuts. I kept chiding him for not paying attention. And yet, he WAS paying attention, to the point that he even did, more than once I think, that amazing move where he nearly turned over the wrong card and caught himself and picked up the correct one next to it. I am humbled by his prowess, even more than I am pissed at myself for losing to my memory-deficient husband at the one game I have always ruled at.

Yesterday began with in-home haircuts for 3/4 of the family (first Josh, then a very reluctant Jonah, and then a stressed-out me). I was so proud of Jonah for rising to the occasion and letting me convince him to get his crazy mane tamed. It was not a major chop, just a cleaning up of the tangly baby hair on the ends, which were the locks that contributed to his mad scientist look. It was astonishing how quickly he transformed. I couldn't quite believe the big boy that started to emerge once his hair was cut. Once he stopped struggling, though, I noticed his body was limp and he had a smile frozen on his face. Which of course sent me to the worrying space: Did we break his will? Is he going to be scarred for life because of a ten minute haircut? The reality is probably that he was relaxed, and happy to watch some favorite YouTube clips on my phone while getting his hair done. When can I stop with the worrying?

I haven't been writing much about Abe. He is pulling himself up to standing, repeating words with uncanny precision ("cookie," "duckie," "all done") and also saying non sequiturs ("bye bye!" very clearly, while he's eating). I will never forget looking at him lying on the bed as we prepared to leave the hospital with him on Day One, saying "hi!" to him, and getting a very similar "ayyyyyyyy!" in response. He and Jonah are getting thick as thieves, particularly during car rides. They almost always hold hands, and Abe provokes Jonah into shrieking and laughter. I'm so glad we added a peg to our car.

How to Make Mama Cry

[Dinner table, end of a semi-trying afternoon]

Jonah: You are the BEST mama.

Mama: Are you sure? What makes me the best? I don't think I'm the best.

Jonah: Because... because you TAKE CARE of us. That makes you the best mama.

Mama: [sobs]

Jonah: I know how I can cheer you up, Mama!

Mama: [sniffling] How?

Jonah: It's called Table Manners. [lifting fork, finally using it] There, now do you feel better? Please, may I please have some milk?

Four

As Jonah moves into his Four-ness (and as I read the appropriate book in the Your ___-Year-Old series), I am suddenly struck by my closeness to and affinity for this particular age.

Four seems to be where I started remembering things, really remembering them. Not just the shirt, but what it felt like to wear it. Not just what my room looked like, but what it felt like to sit on the shaggy red carpet, surrounded by my mess, feeling at home in it. So I am assuming that Jonah is the same way, and that everything that happens from now on is going to stay with him.

Also lately I have noticed him repeating something either he or I have said, in a whisper, right after it is said. This is absolutely something I remember doing at his age, and I can't imagine he's seen me doing it (as I trained myself out of it long ago). Very trippy.

Another reason I'm feeling so connected to Jonah these days: our hair.