My little man

Jack's first day of his new year at preschool was this past Monday. It was almost a non-event, considering that this is his second year and he's used to being away from me. This year, however, he is going three days a week for four hours a day instead of two days for three hours. Jack is already complaining that this is too long for him to be away from me.

He is in an extreme Mommy phase right now. He tells me every morning, "I just really love you! There isn't anyone I love more than you." He sings, "I love you the most most most most toast!" He is constantly giving me kisses, and he tells me needs me with him all the time. He said, "The older I get, the more I'll need you." While I appreciate the sentiment, it does feel like a bit of a regression.

So it's been a little harder to leave him than it was last year. He doesn't so much mind being at preschool, but he just wants me to stay with him. He asked me today, "Why do I have to go to school more the older I get? I'm smarter now that I'm older. It should be the other way." He also said that he wished I were his teacher. I told him that a big problem with that is that he doesn't always listen to me. But it's difficult for me to be hard-hearted and just run out the door when I drop him off.

Otherwise, he did fine his first day. However, a few of our friends who have recently started kindergarten only began having problems adjusting after a full week of the new school year, presumably when the reality of their new routines started to sink in. I'm steeling myself for a similar meltdown on Jack's second week.

Everyone keeps telling me that Jack looks like he's getting so tall. Whenever people say that, Tom gets all excited and makes a big deal of measuring Jack on the growth chart. I don't know if we were overly generous in our last measurement, but Jack really hasn't grown much at all since his last birthday. Maybe an inch? I think he is definitely thinning out, though. He used to always weigh more than almost all his friends, but now he's more in the middle. So maybe that's what's making everyone think he looks taller.

In so many other ways, he's such a little man, and it's so sweet and funny. Violet has been having a hard time sleeping these last several nights, and it's been taking its toll on me. Now, when he sees me in the morning, Jack very solicitously asks me, "How was your night, Mommy?"

We recently installed a bed rail in the master bedroom, because I usually end up having to bring Violet into bed with me at night. Among the many reasons this arrangement causes me to lose sleep is that I've been worried that she's going to roll off the bed. When Jack saw the bed rail, he told me, "That's a good idea! Now she won't roll off!"

Thanks, buddy. I'm glad you approve. I think that he really believes his constant input is crucial to his sister's successful upbringing.

Today, we went pear picking in Julian with friends and ended up at a restaurant for some pie and ice cream. When we were all waiting out front, he was very vigilant of his sister, making sure she didn't run out into the parking lot. He is always very good about pulling her away from things that he thinks are dangerous, although sometimes his pulling is more dangerous than the hazard from which he is trying to save her.

We actually had a great day pear picking. There is an organic pear farm in Julian that I've been wanting to visit for the past two years, but every time I'd think about it, the season was already over. Jack was quintessentially himself today. The lady who owns the farm was so tickled by his obvious knack for numbers. She asked him how old he was, and he responded, "Four and three-quarters." He also told her that it took us 83 minutes to drive to the orchard.

He wanted to pick the most pears in his bag, and he wanted to keep a running tally of all the pears we picked. For some reason, though, he kept calling them apples. He couldn't keep it in his head that we were picking pears. His friend kept calling them peaches.

After the first seven or so pears, the bag got too heavy for him, so Jack very chivalrously handed it off to me to carry while he kept adding more and more. He actually wanted me to buy him another bag, but, at $10 a pop, I said no. When he asked why, I said it was too expensive.

"But how many dollars is it?" he asked.

"Ten dollars a bag," I said.

"How many dollars do you have?" he asked.

I admit, I lied and told him I was out of dollars.

"Well, you can just go to the ATM," my little genius said. "If you get $80, that means I can get eight bags."

Great. At least he can apply his math skills to real-life situations.

Once our ONE bag was filled to bursting, I put it in the car. Little did I know that Jack continued to pick more pears and was also stashing them in the car. So we have enough pears to last us for several weeks.

And I learned something about pears today: They do not ripen on the tree. They just ripen wherever. So if the ones at the store are hard, it's fine to buy them. They'll ripen eventually. I can't wait until these ones do. They're going to be yummy.

Once all our friends had filled their bags - and bellies - with pears, we stopped off to get some snacks. Julian is known for its apple pie, so that's what we got. I had to laugh, though. Jack is usually such a copycat when it comes to his friends. Whatever they do, he wants to do. It actually sort of distresses me that he is so susceptible to other people's influence and doesn't appear to think for himself more often. Today, however, that wasn't an issue. His friends didn't want pie, only ice cream. But Jack wasn't going to deny himself pie just because his friends weren't going to have any. He happily marched to the beat of his own drum and had pie with his ice cream.

I've been having so much fun with my little guy. While I admit that it can sometimes be draining being the center of his little universe, it's also hugely touching that he likes me so much. Even when I'm the most exhausted, I remind myself how short this time is and how lucky I am that my sweet boy loves me so much. He can be a handful, but there isn't anyone that I love more than him.