NSJ

Niko is only interested in “cylinders” or “space boulders” when it comes to play-doh. And you can only have so many snowmen vs. worms battles before it gets pretty boring. So I have been trying to step up my Play-doh skills. Here are some I’ve had luck with beyond my original forms:

• bowls of cereal – positive: easy to make, resembles ash tray from Home Economics so skill already acquired. Negative: when spilled, cereal quickly eaten by dog and/or easily ground into hardwood floor cracks & rugs.
• Glass of… – this one just keeps on giving. Glass of water? How about orange juice? Hey, here is some grape juice? How about pomegranate? Time to learn about anti-oxidants.
• Once you master the “glass of…” a nice variation is the martini. Plus it can be early training for “getting dad a drink.”
• Once we got to the igloo things got a little out of control. I quit when he started asking for an eskimo.

If we fell through the ice, I’m sure Sumo would have pulled us out.

Niko has reached the age (three) where he is mixing things he hears us say a lot in with his standard vocabulary. I’m not sure he always understands what he is saying, but it certainly is a riot to hear him say it.

Examples:

• You have got to be kidding me!?
• For crying out loud!!
• You’re always causing trouble dad
• I’m a little bit shy

He also still struggles with his “th” words which is adorable:

• Does anybody want to play wis me?
• I sink I’m getting a little bit tired
• What is dis?

Niko got a crazy amount of play-doh for christmas. When I see that many colors I think I should be able to build entire cities with it. Turns out my vision way exceeds my execution. Here is my entire repertoire of play-doh formations:

• Snake
• Pretzel (twist up the snake)
• Ball
• Snowman (three balls, stacked)
• Pancake (flatten the ball/snowman)
• Birthday cake (4-5 pancakes, stacked, with some giant candle like things that look more like tree trunks but could also be snakes)

I thought this limited set of options might be a problem until I realized Niko had no interest in actually shaping the play-doh. Anytime I would make something, he would ask me to make it back into a cylinder so he could organize them. I’m not good at organizing either. In fact, probably worse at organizing than making play-doh formations.

We switched to legos.

I’m a ski snob. There, I said it. A complete and total snob. This began at an early age. While I learned to ski on Michigan hills, I very quickly realized the glaciers had left us geographically challenged when it came to skiing. On the way home from our first ski trip to Colorado, I turned to my dad and precociously said, “How about we skip all the trips to MI ski areas and just go to CO once a year?” So I had always just assumed Niko’s first ski trip would be a Sladden/Richau affair and involve Vail or the equivalent. Jul recently pointed out that while this sounded like a great idea, perhaps we didn’t need to *wait* until we take a trip west. Chances are his first runs aren’t going to be tree skiing on the back bowls of Vail. Point Julie. So I left my snobbery at home and we took a quick trip to Mount Southington for his first ski lesson. There is something desperately adorable about bundling up a kid to go skiing. The necessary bulk added to keep them warm is so disproportionate to their size they end up looking and moving like a astronauts. My favorite part was the, “You are kidding right?” look on his face when we put him in his ski boots for the first time. (That’s right son, until you can afford to buy your own snowboard equipment, you are stuck in skis.) Overall the trip was a success. There were no bodily injuries and he didn’t end up hating skiing or me (both dangers of a first ski trip). The instructor was great and he had the two of us skiing together in no time, hula hoop and all.  He did cry all the way down our final run, which ended up being a good time to stop for both of us. My thighs couldn’t have handled one more ten minute “deep squat” on the slowest rope tow of all time.

[flickrvideo]http://www.flickr.com/photos/happyinwater/4281845754/[/flickrvideo]

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For the 13 years we lived in the bay area, my wife refused to call San Francisco the city. “There is only one The City and it sure as heck isn’t San Francisco,” she would say. So now that we have dug in out here on the east coast, I can finally say, we took Niko for his first trip to The City. We took the train to Grand Central and walked down 5th Ave through a sea of people. Then we hit FAO Schwartz and had dinner at La Bonne Soupe. He loved it, and so did we.

[flickrvideo]http://www.flickr.com/photos/happyinwater/4261243288/[/flickrvideo]

Niko got an introduction to sledding this last weekend and I got an introduction to “wow am I out of shape, running hills is hard.” He refused to leave until his lips were blue and teeth chattering at which point we forced a retreat to the house to warm up by the fire and slurp hot chocolate. I believe my wife would say, “this is the way winter is *suppose* to be.”

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