Micronaxx

First, a few background details:

Finn uses a little wagon in the basement to transport his big cardboard blocks back and forth to the “quarry” in the far corner.

We read a lot of Babar books, which contain fascinating, arcane details like getting “vigorous rubdowns with alcohol and soft brushes” when one is cold.

Baby cousin Jenna has been discussed as being too small for quite a few activities.

We overheard Finn sticking up for his little brother at Bouncyland the other evening, when a 5 year-old was trying to tell him that Henry was too small to jump in one of the bounce houses.

Now, the story, verbatim, that John overheard Finny reciting in the basement yesterday morning while playing:

“I have a son who’s about 20 months. He keeps wanting to come to the quarry with me, but he’s just too small. Maybe he can come in 5 months, or 7. His name is Alcohol. He’s at my home with the mom. Her name is Beagle. My name is Sir Bobbiter.”

I’d hardly call G-Man a bold kid. He’s the guy who, for example, fears that house cats are going to eat the PJs off him. This explains my surprise & delight when he spied Danny the Dragon walking around Happy Hollow, cried “Danny!,” hopped down from my arms, and chased down the big green guy. Go Hen go! Check it out:

The sight of our lads gleefully engaging in low-speed chases around the kitchen island makes me think of this old Far Side cartoon. (Every so often I play the role of the hunted butterball. ;-))

…and I do mean demands!

Finny has entered the wonderful stage of making earnest, repetitive, targeted demands. And, since nothing gets by Mr. Henry, he is definitely aping his brother’s less-than-polite tactics for getting what he wants. It’s as if we haven’t been reminding them to “say please, say thank you” repeatedly day after day for years! Some examples (and believe me, this is a sharply abridged list!):

Finny:

“I want more milk! I want cinnamon toast! I don’t want toast, I want cereal! I want to watch Thomas! Mom-o, stop talking to me! Henry, stop playing with my trucks!”

Henry:

“I want truck videos! I want my trucks! I need my two Ollies! I waaaaaaant iiiiiiit! I dropped my _____, get it for me! Wipe my hands off! ” And, immediately upon waking the day after Halloween: “I want candy!”

It just goes on and on. I imagine being on the receiving end of the constant demands must feel somewhat like an old-school stockbroker shouting and signaling futilely in the middle of the insanely crowded trading floor. We stand firm and don’t move a muscle until there’s a “please” added to turn the demand into a request!

[I think Finn might actually need conflict right now, for whatever reason. He can be what seems like deliberately crazy, trying to get a rise out of us. For example, after trick or treating the other night, while I was putting Henry down Finn silently helped himself to a huge pile of M&M’s. I wasn’t pleased, but I didn’t make a big deal of it, and I said he could have more in the morning. “You said I can’t have any in the morning!!” he wailed, over and over, despite my protests. It was so irrational, so arbitrary-seeming, that I figured he must somehow need the battle. (Well, that and his poor tired bod was undergoing an epic sugar crash!) –J.]