Firetruck

Our cool neighbor, "Day-Day," continues to buy supper cool-ass toys at the flea market under the guise of getting them for Jack. Here's his newest acquisition, a remote control ladder firetruck. You can steer it, drive it, and deploy the ladder in 360 degrees at a 45 degree elevation. Jack doesn't have the whole driving thing down yet but he loved working with the ladder this afternoon in the back yard. Thanks, Day-Day!

Light Swaber Fight

First off, I'll say this movie was sent to me by Jack's Godfather, Lance. I was watching it on my laptop when Jack came over, intrigued by the sound of a light saber fight. Needless to say, both Jack and I enjoyed it.



Jack said, "Oh, they are fighting with Light Swabers. Can I see it again?"

"Yes you can," I said. Heh.

Post TV Camera

Jack has introduced a new pre-bedtime ritual: taking pictures. After his milk and post-bath TV show he says, "camera!" and runs downstairs to retrieve my digital camera. He only wants pictures taken so he can view the pictures on the camera. This activity is related to the I-need-to-push-buttons-on-things-that-are-not-toys mania. As I've written before, he expresses this desire by wanting to push buttons on remotes, buttons in the car, and my wife's iPhone.

Tonight, I convinced him to swing around a toy that has two plastic balls that light up when under centrifugal force.

The Hell of Packaging

For those of you without kids let me get you in on a secret: toys a bitch to extract from today's adult pilfer-proof packaging. Two Christmases ago, I didn't seem to notice. Last Christmas, I was in Iraq. This past Christmas (2008) I struggled continually to get the toys Jack received free from their bondage-like enclosures.

This weekend, my attractive wife bought Jack a new bath toy (The Wonder Pets Save the Whale). Just before dinner tonight we showed it to Jack who was quite pleased with it. Here are some photos chronicling the multi-stage opening process:

The toys snug in their package.

Cutting the taped flap on the bottom right-hand corner opens the bottom revealing a space under the whale.

Opening the bottom reveals that the whale is secured to the box by three sets of plastic tie wires.

Detail of the plastic wire ties and their plastic backings.

Plastic wire ties untied. They were intricately wrapped around the nobs in the plastic bases with the skill of a Renaissance Faire hair brader.

Whale almost free. In order for the whale to be pulled free, all the wires had to be straightened out. Note he plastic tie wires are still attached to the whale via small holes in the plastic body. It's mouth is securely taped shut.

Pulling the wire ties out of the whale's underside required more straightening and yanking. Detail of the packing tape around the Whale's mouth. It was a bitch to peel off.

The whale is liberated and happy. Now on to The Wonder Pets figures.

My practiced eye sees they are encased in two layers of industrial cut-resistant plastic. I can't tell at this point if the figures are further secured to one of the layers. Note Jack in the background asking why it's taking so long to open.

Cutting and peeling away the first layer of plastic with regulation Steak Knife.

Peeling away the first layer revealed they were just sitting inside the next layer! There was no need to further untie or peel them away from some other maniacal form of tie down. Here we see the whole ensemble sitting together seconds before Jack whisked them away.

Rhapsody in Pink

Jack is into the color pink. I'm not sure how this happened or if it otherwise reflects badly on my fatherly duties but he's mad about pink. He saw a commercial before Christmas for My Pretty Ponies and said, "I want that!" Now keep in mind he says, "I want that!" for just about any toy commercial he sees on Boomerang or Cartoon Network. At first I just ignored it but my attractive wife picked up on it.

Then, during our drive down to Los Angeles just before Christmas we stopped at a McDonald's Restaurant in central California. We decided to get Jack a Happy Meal and when I took him to the toy display, he said he wanted the Pink Pony and not the Bionicles. The restaurant was a zoo and over the din of people ordering we received a Happy Meal with a boy's toy (Bionicle) and not the Pretty Pony. Jack was at first upset but soon forgot about it. So did I. Not my attractive wife.

Fast forward to last week. While shopping at Target (i.e., The Mothership) my wife picked up a Pretty Pink Pony and brought it home. She said she picked it up because Jack kept asking for it during our trip to LA. I think she got it to drive me crazy.

Who's your Daddy, Pink Pony? That's right, General Grievous.

Pink Pony's arrival also coincided with a weekend visit to Jack's older cousins, who live about ten miles south of us. His only female cousin, Erin (6) had a Barbie Glamour Jet Plane that she did not play with. The jet is big and pink and Jack fell in love with it. The rear of the plane has all these small compartments which open and close and Jack loved manipulating them. To him, it's a jet plane that he can open up and mess with and it also happens to be pink. To me, it's a fraking Barbie Glamour Jet Plane that's PINK. As we were getting ready to leave, my sister-in-law begged me to take it home because it cost them $60 and Erin never really wanted to play with it. My attractive wife thought this was very funny but also said Jack should have it. Jack hugged it all the way home which was hard since it's so big.

Finally, Jack has discovered The Powerpuff Girls and it's his new favorite show. It still may be too early to call, but I think we're finally over The Pink Panther. My attractive wife and I have seen nearly every episode twice and frankly, we never want to hear the Pink Panther theme ever again. (Are you paying attention to the color theme here?).

Two nights ago, we were watching an episode where the girls battle one of their Kindergarten classmate's mischievous imaginary friend. At one point, Blossom (who wears a pink outfit!) charges the invisible villian and ends up being thrown into the closet. She emerges looking just like Eric Cartman from South Park. My attractive wife and I bust into laughter much to Jack's delight.

"He knocked me down. I'm seriously."

Bibi Bear

I've written before about Jack's special teddy bear, whom he named, "Bibi Bear". (Sometimes Jack pronounces it, "Bibi Bay-er" for emphasis.) When Jack was a new born, we were blessed with many gifts from friends and family of stuffed animals. As an infant and toddler, Jack showed little interest in them but, after I left for Iraq in the fall of 2007, he picked out one of two identical white stuffed teddy bears. I'm not sure where the name came from (perhaps a variation of "Baby Bear") but Jack chose this bear and hasn't let go since.

Can you tell the difference? Jack can.

Bibi Bear is intimately tied to "paci" (the pacifier) which, I have been trying to wean him off of. I'm afraid there is not much progress to report in this department. We have been successful in relegating Paci only to nighttime and Jack regularly asks for it during our bed time routine. Some mornings, he surprises me by announcing that, "Paci is for babies!" and he leaves it in the crib without issue. Other mornings (especially Mondays) he has a hard time giving it up.

We keep Bibi Bear's twin (brother? sister?) in Jack's crib. Jack acknowledges that it's there but otherwise shows little interest. One night, my attractive wife gave Jack a bear after lights out and Jack announced, "That's not Bibi Bear!" and he was right. How he could tell, especially in the dark, is beyond me but I suspect it's the smell.

Bibi Bear is on the right.

When I give Jack Bibi Bear during out night time routine, he often mashes its nose up to his and sniffs it. Maybe the smell has a calming affect. We wash it but are concerned that maybe it will fall apart which would be bad, especially for Mom and Dad's sanity. Wish us luck.

Christmas Train

We drove down to Los Angeles to visit my parents for Christmas this year. I won't bore you with the details of the drive down from Northern California. It was about what you would expect with a three year old boy trapped in a car seat for eight hours.

On Christmas Eve, we walked down the street to visit my parent's neighbors who had a remarkable electric Christmas train set up around their Christmas Tree. Jack rode in a red wagon that my father keeps at the house for him and Jack's twin cousin boys who visit from Denver.

The train had five cars (including the cabose) all of which featured moving parts. It was like the "It's a Small World" ride at Disneyland. Elves popped out of coal tender, danced around a Christmas Tree, and ice skated on a small frozen pond. The train controls had buttons for a whistle, bell, and Santa yelling, "Ho, ho, ho!"

Jack loved it. It was the perfect sort of thing to see and play with at someone else's house; Jack is a little bit too young to fully appreciate something like this without ultimately destroying it.