The Shoe Shoe Train

It isn't intentional that these updates have evolved to a weekly record, but the world of parenting reaches higher speeds every day and before I know it, I am reminded the previous week's chaos is about to escape without documentation. Here is this week's pit stop.

The speed and direction of our weeks are most influenced by Elliott's mind. Ian is still young and predictable, but we never know where Elliott is going to take us. I stumbled across a long but very organized trail of shoes this past week. No less than a dozen pair, ranging from dress shoes to slippers, blazed a trail of footwear from our hallway through the master bedroom to their final destination in the bathroom. Katie couldn't wait for me to discover this so she could unload the joke she obviously came up with soon after she had made the same discovery.

 "What is this?" I asked

"It's a shoe shoe train", she answered.

I thought this was pretty funny. Katie was quite proud of her sense of humor. But Elliott, the engineer of the project, failed to see the humor.

"No mama, It's a choo choo train. Those are tanker cars"

And with that reprimand disguised as a correction, we were reminded that no matter how random some of his projects seem, in his mind, each is constructed with a purpose. He gets disgusted at times that we forget that, but doesn't tire of reminding us otherwise.

As complex as some of Elliott's thought processes are, he is also becoming a quick thinker. Katie works with Elliott a lot on becoming more responsible and independent. She accuses me of training him to need me long after he's gone off to college. I tell her since I'll probably go with him, that will work out OK. Elliott is often resistant to her training. The other morning she was after him to pick  his alphabet magnets up off the kitchen floor and return them to their home on the refrigerator (When they are all attached, our refrigerator looks like a crossword puzzle that swallowed a flaming stick of dynamite just before it blew). Elliott's first response was a simple "no", as if replying no to a wedding RSVP. I give him credit, he is driven to find success for this strategy; I don't like his chances.  His next move was more unexpected, but displayed his creativity.

"No mama, those are Ian's magnets."  

Oh, let the fun begin.

I am fascinated how the little mind begins to understand the ways of the world, the many varied ways they look at different functions on the way to gaining a final and accurate picture.  As an example, we were eating dinner Friday night and Elliott excused himself and retreated to a quiet corner in the kitchen.  His face was soon disarranged, the familiar warm up act for the grand announcement "Elliott pooped."

"What are you doing Elliott?" I asked.

"Elliott putting pizza in his diaper," he answered without hesitation. Two year old simplicity applied to the complexity of the digestive system. 

Later in the weekend Elliott was watching me shave.  

"What are you doing daddy"

"I'm shaving my whiskers," I answered.

"Are you sweeping your face daddy?"

I answered the only way I could when so logically posed with illogicalness that only Elliott can offer.

"Yes Elliott, I'm sweeping my face."

It never ends.  Thank God for the gentle reminder that another week has passed.  


For today's expanded audio coverage of the blog, listen to Ian's account of the events listed today in the video footage below.