General Grievous

Jack's fascination with evil continues. He is now a sort of fan of General Grievous, the Droid Army leader from the Cartoon Network's, animated series, Star Wars: The Clone Wars.

A few days ago, Jack saw a commercial for the series which featured General Grievous and instantly knew he was an antagonist. "He's a Bad Guy!" Jack exclaimed in much the same tone of awe as he did for El Honcho Macho in El Kabong Rides Again. I set the upstairs Tivo to record some episodes to see if Jack would like it.

Last night, we watched an episode before bed time and he was fascinated with the sweeping vistas of deep space and space cruisers firing at each other. "Wow!" he exclained. Unfortunately, his attention span left him asking, "Where is General Greivous?" over and over again when he wasn't on screen.

I know Jack eventually will be a big Star Wars fan, as his father was (okay, still is).

P-Wow

Tonight just before story time, Jack announced he had a friend name P-Wow who lives in outer space. According to Jack's description, P-Wow is red and green and is big. He lives waaaay up in the sky in a rocket ship. (Jack pointed up in the air for emphasis.) Jack said he stays with P-Wow on his trips to outer space because "P-Wow is mine friend." (Jack often uses the word "mine" instead of "my.")

P-Wow (Artist's Impression)

Thanksgiving

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner tonight here at home. Last year, I spent Thanksgiving in Baghdad, Iraq. The Embassy Dining Facility (DFAC) did a wonderful job decorating and serving food nearly continuously from from about 1100 to 2000.

Thanksgiving, Baghdad, Iraq, 2007

Of course, I was thankful at the time to be in a (relatively) safe location, with new friends and good food. But tonight, I am especially thankful to be back in one piece and with my attractive wife, loving son and my parents. At Day Care, Jack made a Thanksgiving Wreath to commemorate the holiday. Such a simple piece of artwork is very touching to me this year. I'm pretty sure Jack has little concept of Thanksgiving this year but I still think it's pretty touching.

Jack's Thanksgiving Wreath, 2008

This year, I invited my friend Mike and his friend Sarah over as they didn't have any special plans. Chasing Jack throughout the house while playing host was fun but it wasn't until all the guests had left, the dishes cleaned up and Jack was asleep in his crib that I began to think about what I was thankful for.

Thanksgiving, Jack with guests Sarah and Mike, 2008

I'm thankful for my families: the one I grew up (my mother, father, and younger sister) and the one I have as an adult (my attractive wife and son, Jack). I am happy to share a bit of both this year at home.

I am thankful for my friends (like Mike, whom I've known for ten years) who supported me with treats, movies and good wishes while I was deployed.

I am thankful for the love I have received from my parents. Their support and common sense approach to raising both my sister and I contributed greatly to the person I am today. I can only hope to pass some of that on to Jack.

I am thankful for my attractive wife, who endured a year long separation from me, in only the fourth year of our marriage, while being a single mother to Jack during his "terrible twos." Sometimes I think I had it bad in Iraq but I thought of how tough it was for her to be working full time and taking care of Jack.

I am thankful Jack has accepted me back into his life. I feel as if I never was away and I am very happy for that.

I am thankful for very good friends. In my youth, I used to think friendship was intensely personal, that it required day to day nurturing in order to endure. I know now friendship takes many forms. I have many friends who I don't see much. My best friend (and best man/god father to Jack) falls in that category but I know we'll be close to our dying days. Other friends, like my co-workers in Iraq, I likely will never see again but we bonded under the most uncommon of circumstances. And we will always have that most uncommon experience to ruminate about.

But mostly, I am thankful to be home. Time to get on with the business of living.

Rocket Ship

Jack is fascinated with rocket ships. A couple of weeks ago, while visiting his cousins, he absconded with a faded beige Styrofoam arrow that had been part of a bow and arrow set. The arrow no longer had its fins and Jack thought it made a fine rocket ship. His cousins let him have the arrow and periodically he plays with it.

His preferred method is hold it with one hand and count down, "One, two, three, nine, blastoff!" and throw it in the air. For some reason, he tends to mispronounce "blastoff" which ends up sounding more like "fiestoff."

Tonight before story time, I snapped the enclosed picture of him launching the "rocket."


At the playground, there is a particular play structure he pretends is a rocket ship. It resembles a small house and has a bench inside. He'll announce, "I'm going to outer space!" and will sit in the structure and make the same countdown. "Are you in outer space now?" I'll ask. "Yes," he says. Then, he jumps down off the structure and says, "I'm back!"

Nighty-night

Following the rule of "routine things done routinely" Jack's bedtime routine consists of a bath staring around 7PM, followed by drying up and getting dressed into his pajamas. He gets to watch a TV program, lately Tivo'd Pink Panther episodes, accompanied by some warm milk. Ideally, the program ends and I switch to quiet and story time. Lately, this hasn't worked as well as I would have liked; Jack develops a second wind just after his bath and it's very hard to get him settled down.

My attractive wife hasn't been feeling well lately so she has been going to bed early. By 8PM she's usually in bed, reading. Just after his TV program ends Jack announces that he wants to kiss Mommy goodnight. He pads into our bedroom and I help him into bed. He gets under the covers and, lately, puts both his hands behind his head as if to luxuriate. Then he give his Mommy a quick kiss goodnight and announces he's ready to go back to his room.

If all goes well, I read him some stories and we turn out the light. Lately though, he still has this second wind of energy and it's hard to get him calmed down. I suppose there are strategies espoused by experts to smooth things out. Having been back with Jack for a month and a half now I've seen evolutionary changes already in his development. And with that change, comes inevitable tweaks in his routine. As Rush lyricist Neil Peart wrote, "changes aren't permanent but change is."

California Academy of Science

My parents and I took Jack to the new California Academy of Science museum in San Francisco today. We had heard such good things about it from other friends; it incorporates an aquarium, planetarium, four-story Amazonian rain forest, South African Penguins, all in a newly renovated building.

Driving onto the 10th Ave entrance to Golden Gate Park was a quite a surprise as it now leads directly underground into a colossal parking lot. When I lived here eight years ago, this street entered directly into the park.

We arrived about 1030, one hour after the museum opened, to a sea of people who oddly resembled us: a mix of older couples and their adult children shepherding strollers and all the attending equipment that goes along with that.

Jack did well during the long drive over and took the waiting in line to enter in stride. I had prepped him for what we would be seeing. He was especially interested in seeing the "fishies" in the aquarium. He's a huge fan of the animated show, "Oswald" which chronicles the adventures of an anthropomorphic octopus and his best friend, Henry, a penguin. Naturally, he was interested is seeing examples of both animals.

After entering and getting our bearings, we made our way to the African Hall exhibit, which features stuffed animals and live penguin habitat. Jack was amazed by near real life examples of gorillas, zebras, lions, cheetahs, antelope, and other examples of African fauna. For some reason, he kept running back to the zebras. He pointed his finger and said, "elephants!" "No," I said, "they're zebras, buddy." He was insistent and I saw he was pointing just to the right of zebras. And there, in the simulated distance of the hand painted African Savannah, I saw a digital projection of a herd of elephants slowly making their way across the grasslands. It was very subtle but the movement caught Jack's eye. He was really excited to see them, albeit in the simulated distance. Smart kid.

The culmination of the African Hall was the live penguin habitat. Jack raced right up to it, his small size allowing him to weave between adults standing near the exhibit. When standing, Jack's head was still below the water level of the tank. I held him up to see the penguins standing on the simulated rocky shore. Periodically, they jumped off into the water to swim and dart around. Jack loved it.

After the African Hall we saw a massive swinging Foucault pendulum whose cable was suspended two stories above the main floor. I remember seeing a similar one with my father when I was a young kid at the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles, where I grew up. It was oddly comforting to see a similar pendulum with both my son and my father. Jack was fascinated and lingered much longer than I thought he would.

We then made our way down to the lower level where the aquarium exhibits were located. Jack was amazed and very excited to see so many fishes. We spend the majority of our visit down there racing from exhibit to exhibit. In addition to seeing fishes, Jack got to visit the tide pool exhibit and touch a star fish. He was a little hesitant but enjoyed it. At one of the last tanks, he saw a giant sea bass. It was bigger than him, easily. It slowly swam in circles, periodically coming right up to the tank much to the delight of the various kids watching it. Jack exclaimed, "it's my favorite!" and stayed to watch it swim around and around.

We then made our way up to the first level and had some lunch before heading out. Jack was running on adrenalin but finally conceded it was time to go home. I promised him we'd be back to visit again.

In the car on the way home, he announced, "I'm not tired," and then proceeded to fall asleep.

At the Park

This afternoon we went to the park or, as Jack refers to it, the "parky." My attractive wife and my mother also went. Whenever Jack leaves the house, he has to take a motley assortment of toys with him, usually so many that he has to struggle to hold them all. I think holding onto the toys helps him with transitioning from one activity to another. This time, he held tightly to a silver, robotic dog, given to him by our wonderful neighbors, Dewy and Day-Day (Jack's nicknames for them), who function as surrogate grandparents.

When we arrive, I always suggest Jack let me hold on to whatever toy(s) he's brought with him as they invariably get in the way of his climbing over the various play structures. He usually responds with "No, it's mine," or "I'll hold onto to it." It was the same today and he enthusiastically tackled the play structures holding onto his robotic dog.

When he got to the top level adjacent to a slide, he showed his dog to two slightly older girls. He turned the dog on and handed it over to them and they were amazed with it's robotic antics. Jack looked down on me and said, "I'm sharing!"

The girls then went down the slide and Jack followed. They went to another slide and Jack tried to re-engage the girl who was closer to his age. I couldn't help but think he was trying to impress her with the toy and maybe get some conversation. But she had lost interest and quickly ran away. Ah, the great game begins, Jack. Get used to it.

Next, Jack went to one of his favorite slides, an enclosed tube. Getting to it requires climbing several levels of play structure. He did so, still holding his robotic dog. What's funny about this, and other slides at this park, is their plastic construction is quite conducive to static shock. My attractive wife has a particular phobia/dislike of static shocks; I am less affected. Just after I got home from Iraq and when Jack's hair was longer, it would stand up on end as he slid closer to the end of the slide. I would always laugh which, in turn, would cause him to laugh. Today, even with his hair shorter, it still stood up.