Carnivore Grandparents

Grafton, walking around with his toy phone, makes a call. He's talking softly into the phone, and I can't hear him, so I ask, "Who are you calling?"

He answers, "I'm calling Nana and PopPop."

"What are they doing, Grafton?", I inquire.

"They're cooking", he replies.

I laugh and say, "Yeah, we see them cooking a lot, don't we?" (they always cook a big meal when family is over)

Then he emphasizes, "They're cooking meat."

[Perhaps, this can only be appreciated by those that have attended a Tolopko family event in Otis, where there are usually no less than 3 types of meat dishes to choose from.]

Moving Up

Well, another milestone has passed. Grafton graduated from his Toddler 3 class this past Thursday. Ten months of drawing, painting, gluing, dancing, singing, laughing, and learning; reading book after book after book; playing with dinosaurs, bugs, space mud, sticky paper collages, blocks, buildings, race tracks, train tracks, a water table, and a sand table; wearing costumes, snow suits, sunscreen, sun hats, and rain coats; being outside running, falling, walking, climbing, digging, dragging, pushing, and pulling; taking care of the goldfish, and Wally the turtle. And all of this with his friends, Joe, Natalie, Gabbi, Amelia, Gavin, Landen, Tovah, Taylor, and the triplets, Aiden, Brody, Collin. And of course his (daily) teachers, Tina and Rachel, who did so much to care for, read to, talk to, listen to, play with, laugh with, comfort, and put up with our son, Grafton. We know Grafton will really miss his teachers and his friends (though many will be moving on to the next class with him). As time passes, we're quite sure Grafton will remember his time in Toddler 3. And if he doesn't, here are some pictures he can use to remind himself (thanks, Rachel!)

(all photos here, with a special treat at the end!)

Grafton begins pre-school on Tuesday. New teachers! More kids! Bigger room! New toys! More potties! Cheaper tuition! Can't wait!

Nothing Left to Add

"Perfection is achieved not when there is nothing left to add, 
but when there is nothing left to take away"

- Antoine de Saint-Exupery

While working on a pasta collage at school, Grafton completed his masterpiece when he declared,

"It's done, it only needed one thing!"

Clearly, Grafton figured out that it was easier to stop adding early on, rather than having to agonize later over what to take away.

This also reminded me of a scene from the movie "Six Degrees of Separation",  where Flan Kittredge provides the following anecdote during a dinner party, explaining the secret behind the great works of art:

I thought...dreamt...remembered...how easy it is for a painter to lose a painting. He paints and paints, works on a canvas for months, and then, one day, he loses it. Loses the structure, loses the sense of it. You lose the painting. I remembered asking my kids' second-grade teacher,

"Why are all your students geniuses? Look at the first grade--blotches of green and black. The third grade--camouflage. But your grade, the second grade, Matisses, every one. You've made my child a Matisse. Let me study with you. Let me into the second grade. What is your secret?"

"I don't have any secret. I just know when to take their drawings away from them."

Exploiting Loopholes

Grafton was watching a cartoon on PBS this morning, while we were getting ready for work. But anytime we let Grafton watch TV, he forgets to eat his meal. So I kept reminding him, "You have to eat your bareakfast, Grafton!" A little later, Mom comes in and tells him it's now time to put on his sunscreen, which he never likes. But instead of being physically evasive, as he usually is, he looks up and Mom and states, "I can't", then points to his cereal and explains in his most mature voice, "Daddy said to eat it." 

Looks like we're going to have to coordinate our parental orders from now on!

It's Hard to Recall

While at the doctors office, waiting for the doctor to show up, Grafton and Dad were looking at the ABC poster on the wall. It showed the full alphabet with a picture next to each letter. I was quizzing Grafton on his letters, and he got one, or maybe two, correct. But after a little while Grafton looked a little distraught, and said, "It's hard to remember."

I think this was the first time I heard him use the word "remember" on his own, without first being asked about "remembering" something in particular. I found it interesting that he was aware of his effort of trying to recall knowledge. I guess I just wanted to remember this moment myself.