Random John Stuff

One of the things John likes to do is come see us with a toy behind his back and say "I have a surprise for you." Evidently I am too good of a guesser, because now, when he does this trick for me, he says "I have a surprise for you and don't say anything."

He also says "I have to show you something cool" and "Look at my new game."

His favorite place to pee is on the azalea bush in our front yard. Anytime I hear the patter of feet and then the storm door open, I know that's what's happening. Unfortunately, he just pulls his pants and underwear off and leaves them on the front porch. He also likes to wave "it" around while he's peeing. Definitely all boy. I guess I'm definitely all boy-mom, because it doesn't bother me at all. It also didn't bother me during the brief trend when he liked to get down on all fours, lift one leg, and pee like a dog. Except that he usually got his shirt wet. However, Tony didn't like that one, so we stopped it.
We were at a local park last week, and he needed to pee, so I let him pee on a bush. A couple of girl-moms were across the park judging me. I was just happy we didn't have to end a successful playdate to try to find a bathroom!

He only knows the letters of the alphabet that make up his own name.

He runs everywhere.

He is now riffing on scenes from the movie "Cars," rather than just replaying them. He is starting to understand and accept the fact that we already have just about every "Cars" diecast toy made and that he isn't going to get any more. We did go though the seven stages of grief on this issue.

When Tony and I are talking about non-toddler topics at the dinner table, John occasionally throws in descriptions of scenes from the movies "Cars" and "Wall-e" so that he can contribute to the conversation.

He has my Dad's selective/attention deficit hearing disorder: "John, do you ...?" "JOHN, do you want ...?" "JOHN. JOHN! JOHN MICHAEL PENNA!" "Excuse me. John!" "What, Mommy?"

He removed all the steri-strip tape strips from his chest by himself one at a time over the course of a week. He would announce "I'm ready to take some tape off" and then he would do it. The gray tape residue is still there.

He has inherited, by genetics or by observation, my default reaction to anything displeasing: a brief temper tantrum. His current mode is to whine, wriggle, and jog his feet up and down a little bit. Not getting juice, having to get dressed for school, and not getting to watch a DVD are the most frequent catalysts. Fortunately, he recovers pretty quickly. I am usually in the middle of doing something else and just ignore it, or I say "I know you want [whatever] and you can cry about it if you need to, but a fuss isn't going to change it." or I say "Life is hard, I know." Sometimes, we can circumvent it when I have to require some behavior on his part by saying "Is [this] going to cause a fuss?" He either answers "Yes this will cause a fuss" or "No this will not cause a fuss," but either way, if we talk about it before hand, he usually doesn't fuss.
One day, we were standing next to the refrigerator having the "no juice" altercation, and in his orneriness, he pushed on the water dispenser lever and got a shirt full of cold water. Then as he was whining and jogging around he slipped and fell in the water on the floor. The wicked mom in me loved the instant karma of that one. He calmed down soon and then wiped up the water with the dish towel I gave him.

Whether we wake him up in the morning or he wakes up on his own, he has to have about 10 minutes of solitary time. If we intrude on this morning meditation (or whatever it is), he goes to a different room and says "Leave me alone" or "You are bothering me."

He likes to pretend that he is the mommy or daddy and we are the babies. We played out our whole bedtime ritual that way one night. It's a good reminder about how we really sound to him.
Yesterday I let him pay at Gattitown. If only it had been his money...