This is NOT Michael Jackson

Tonight while we were hanging out in the kitchen, Hubby decided to put on some music. His selection: Michael Jackson: History. Flik is a Michael Jackson fan. He likes to dance and Michael Jackson, well, need I say more? I don't recall what the first song we listened to was, but Flik got all excited. "I know this song!" he exclaimed in his panty, excited voice, "It's Michael Jackson!" He got up and danced a little and then came back to our project at the table. Next song up: Billie Jean. After it played for a few moments, we had the following exchange:

Flik: Who sings this song?
Mommy: Michael Jackson.
Flik: (looking perplexed) No. You're kidding!
Mommy: No, really. This song is Michael Jackson, too.

About a minute passes without further discussion on the song or artist.

Flik: Mommy, you're kidding. This is NOT Michael Jackson.
Mommy: Flik, sweetie. This is really Michael Jackson. Why do you think it's not Michael Jackson.
Flik: Because this doesn't sound like Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson is a boy.

Later, Flik entertained us with some dance moves set to Thriller. Check 'em out. Seriously folks, he's had no formal training.

Baby Butterfly

Tonight I did bedtime with Flik. This is usually a Daddy role, but Daddy was working hard on finishing up a landscaping project and was too caked in dirt to be available for bedtime. Flik is not usually a fan on my stepping in for bedtime; he has a favorite and he is not shy about letting us know his preference.

Ever since his baby brother was born, Flik insists on being wrapped up "like a baby" after his bath and carried to his room. Tonight, with just the two of us, I suggested that maybe instead of a baby, we pretend he's a caterpillar. We could wrap him up in his cocoon and he could come out later as a butterfly. He was skeptical at first, but decided to try it out. I took him out of the tub, dried him off, wrapped him in his towel/cocoon, carried him to his room, and placed him on his bed. I then unwrapped him and "oohed" at the beautiful butterfly. Flik then pretended to be a "baby butterfly" who, of course, couldn't talk. He would just lie there looking sad and pretend talk with no sound coming out (because butterflies can't talk). Occasionally he would "break" to tell me something like, "let's pretend I'm a baby butterfly and I'm sad because I want my Mommy & Daddy butterflies." We then went back to playing while I put on his jammies; I pretended to be the Mommy Butterfly. I told him he didn't need to be sad because I would always be there for him until he was ready to fly away on his own. Another "break."

"Mommy, let's pretend the baby butterfly is sad because he doesn't ever want the Mommy Butterfly to leave, even when he grows up into a grown up butterfly."

I wrapped my arms around him and told him how I would never leave him. How even when he was a grown up butterfly, he would always be my baby butterfly. Always and forever.

Then we crawled under the covers and read a few chapters from our next Magic Treehouse book. We turned off the lights and snuggled together, something my little boy is pretty much never in the mood for unless it means he is about to be alone in his bed. So I snuggled with my usually unsnuggly boy for a few extra minutes. And I stared at his sweet and innocent face on his pillow. And as I left his room, I thought, "I know all parents love their children, but oh my goodness, it is almost unbelievable how very much do I love mine."

Goodnight, Kiddo. And do not worry, I am never going anywhere.

Good Question, Kiddo

Yesterday we went to the Air and Water show. We took public transportation and it was Flik's first time on a Metra train. He was pretty excited and enjoyed the ride a lot. We sat upstairs (of course). The upstairs seats are single seats, but you can flip them so that they face each other. Flik sat facing Daddy and I sat behind Daddy. At one point I heard, "Mommy, look!" I look over Daddy' shoulder to see Flik standing in between Daddy's legs instead of sitting in his seat.

Flik: Look, Mommy! I'm standing WHILE the train is moving.
Mommy: (shakes head slowly) That's probably not a very good idea. It's not very safe.

Flik: But Daddy said it was ok.

Mommy: I know. But it's just safer if you stay in your seat.

Flik flops back down onto his seat.

Flik: (to Daddy) Mommy. Is. Crazy.

Daddy: No, Mommy's not crazy. She is just trying to make sure you stay safe.

Flik: (short pause) Why aren't you doing that?

Mommy: (giggles)

Daddy: Yeah, that's a good question, Kiddo.

Hehe. My kid is so smart.

Photos of a Second Child: An Open Letter to My Baby Boy

Today I wrote a post that is an open letter to Z. Since it is not really a story about Z, and really a letter to him, I posted it over at Sarcasm 101: Photos of a Second Child: An Open Letter to My Baby Boy

Eleven Months

Hello! Sorry I've been away for a while. Left the kids alone with my mom for a week while Daddy and I vacationed in the Caribbean. Didn't have any adorable Ant stories to tell you while we were gone. So now I'll just get you updated on the latest Z milestones and then we'll be back on track. Deal? Alrighty.

Z turned ELEVEN months old a week ago today. Wow. Since last month he is talking up a storm. He's almost got a couple "real" words under his belt, but mostly he is in love with just talking to himself. He goes on and on as though he has full thoughts he is expressing. He kinda' says, "Ma" and "Da" and "Ba", but I think he's just barely got an idea that those mean something to us. He does say, "up" a lot lately. I think he just likes to make the "p" sound, but Daddy picks him up whenever he says it, so maybe he'll catch on pretty quickly.

Z now has 6 teeth fully visible in his little mouth and they are adorable. He got his first haircut on Saturday. He sat on Daddy's lap and all went very well. (Flik was not a fan of his first haircut, oh so long ago.) When Z crawls, it still looks as though he doesn't have full use of his legs, but boy does he do it fast. He is cruising around the furniture and is so eager to let go that he stretches as far as he can to get to the next piece of furniture. But he is not standing on his own yet.

He is still sleeping through the night, but has been waking up lately, crying for 3-5 minutes, and then falling back to sleep. He still sleeps with a pacifier which may never get taken away. Mommy still hates that we didn't take it away when he was four months old, but has no intention of fighting that battle right now.

Z is an amazingly happy little guy. He naps well, eats well, and is pretty much smiling whenever he is awake. We really couldn't ask for a better baby.

OK, here's the run down of Z's 11 month stats according to the authors of the What to Expect... book series. At 11 months a baby...

... should be able to:

• get into  sitting position from stomachcheck
• pick up tiny object with any part of thumb and finger
  check
• understand "no"
  check

... is probably able to:

• play patty-cake (clap hands) or wave bye-bye
  doesn't play patty-cake. does clap hands. doesn't wave bye-bye.
• walk holding on to furniture (cruise)
  check
• point or gesture to something to get needs met
  um.... gesture, yes. point, no.

... may possibly be able to:

• pick up a tiny object neatly with tips of thumb and forefinger
  How neatly?
• stand alone momentarily
  no
• say "dada" or "mama" discriminately
  um.... depends on who you ask. Definitely says it. We are divided on the "discriminately" part.

... may even be able to:

• stand alone well
  no
• indicate wants in ways other than crying
  no
• roll ball back to you
  Roll ball? Yes. To me? No.
• drink from a cup independently
  um... We haven't given him any cups yet.
• use immature jargoning (gibbersih that sounds as if baby is talking a made-up foreign language)
  That's what it sounds like to me. Check?
• say three or more words other than "mama" or "dada"
  no
• respond to a one step command without gestures ("give that to me")
  no
• walk well
  no

OK. One more month of What to Expect updates. (I'm not sure who's happier about that: you or me.)