Alma Mater

Swim Class

Swim class starts at 11. It's less than a mile to walk. To be on the safe side, we leave at 10.

It takes a long time to put on Roan's swim gear, which consists of a swim diaper, trunks, a rash guard,and a swim cap. In the locker room, he knows that if he prevents me from putting on his gear, this will delay the swimming portion of this expedition. He also quite cleverly observes that my mom is the only one not wearing a bathing suit, and refuses to leave her lap.

Eventually I tear him away from Grandma and take him into the pool, where he clings to me while halfheartedly splashing. When the Hokey-Pokey starts he is loosens his grip and looks around. By the time we get to The Wheels on the Bus he is sold. He loves swimming lessons. This time.

After lunch we take the bus home. I'm not sure why, but Roan adores the bus. When he sees one coming his whole body tenses up with excitement and he starts shouting and pointing and bouncing up and down. Here he is with Grandma Mac, having spotted the bus coming his way. He's never as excited to actually be riding the bus; I chalk it up to something I call the Party Bus Phenomenon: it always looks a lot more fun than it is. Even so, he always sits quietly and attentively and holds on tight to the pole, like he's riding a roller coaster.

Funny Guy

Yes Man

I've heard about toddlers who say "no" to everything. Even things they want, like cake, a trip to the playground, a puppy. They say "no" as an exercise of will, to show that they are in control.

Roan didn't read this page in the parenting book. He says "yes" to everything.

Well, he doesn't really say "yes," he just nods his head vigorously and smiles and makes happy excited noises. You don't even have to really ask him a question. If you say anything with a question type inflection, he says Yes.

It's great to have such an agreeable child. I like to ask him things like, "don't these jeans make me look skinny?" or "am I having a good hair day or what?" and he answers with an undeniable Yes.

But it can also be confusing. At meal times, if I ask him if he's all done, he says Yes. If I ask him if he wants more food, he says Yes. If I say, "Roan, do you want to go downstairs?" he says Yes and runs to the stairs. If I ask if he wants to stay upstairs, he says Yes to that too. Do you want to play with the tupperware or put it away? Do you want to ride your bike or read this book? Yes, yes, and yes, he wants to do it all. He loves to say Yes.

It can also be inconvenient. Like when we are on the bus and an old woman offers us her seat. I don't like to take seats from old people, but Roan doesn't have any qualms about it. I say no, but he says yes. And they always take his word over mine. Waitresses offer him sweets. Subway performers ask him for spare change. I say no, but he says yes. Sometimes, in a crowded place, someone will ask a nearby child a question, and Roan will answer for them - always yes, yes, yes.

There are only two things he says "no" to consistently: Do you want to take a nap? and May I put your swim cap on? These questions make him shake his head and run away.

One of the surprising things about having a child are those moments when you realize that you're immitating them. The other day a coworker was telling me a story, something I could mildly relate to. "Yes, yes, absolutely, yes!" I found myself saying, smiling and nodding and expressing way more enthusiasm than the story deserved. I almost stopped myself, but I thought of Roan, and I realized how much fun it is to be on board with everything, to explore every option, turn nothing down. At that moment I would have agreed to anything, answered any suggestion with a "sure, why not!"

I'm not sure what killed that particular wave of positivity. Possibly it was reading some of my queries, which pose questions like, "Would you like to be the agent for my 250,000 word coming-of-age novel set in a post-apocalypse wasteland where we've all been lobotomized and had our frontal lobes replaced with lizard brains?" No. No I would not. In fact, questions like those make me want to shake my head and run away.

Lets hope we can keep the Robot away from telemarketers and infomercials until the "yes" phase passes.

Winter, Your Days are Numbered

14. That's how many days of winter we have left. But on a day like today, which had to be at least 50 degrees, it feels like spring is here already. We celebrated with a day spent outdoors and brunch with friends.

Roan shields himself from Lola's tickling

Posing for the camera (two different cameras)

Post-brunch stroll in the sun

Long walk in the afternoon