Random Thoughts.
The right hemisphere of my brain has been working overtime the last couple of weeks, leading to some: Random thoughts.

1. At what point did kids stop 'getting' the Jimmy Durante references that are so common in children's entertainment. For those not in the know, Jimmy Durante was a vaudeville entertainer who had some success in the movies, but hasn't been a major cultural figure for about 60 years, give or take. He was characterized by a very large nose, and a gruff voice, and he was generally a funny guy.

Just the other day I was listening to one of Isaac's Raffi albums, and there clearly in the first track, was someone doing a Jimmy Durante impression. There is no way any kid listening to this album is going to get the joke. And then I flashed back to Looney Tunes cartoons from when I was growing up, and remembered several Jimmy Durante caricatures from then. And I wondered at what point it stopped being Jimmy Durante, and started being "A funny nosed guy with a gruff voice" caricature. Just curious.

2. Isaac is way too technologically savvy. He has an old cell phone that Auntie Danielle gave him that he loves playing with, to the point of making Dad go out to the car to get it, should we leave it there. Yesterday we were all driving somewhere, and Isaac was having an imaginary conversation with someone, and Noelle looks back and Isaac says "I'm talking on the phone, Mom." Kids these days.

Also, earlier, he picks up the phone, and turns to his Mother and says "I need to check my messages. It's very important." I really don't know what to say to that.

Also, he has a little Micro Casette recorder (the kind newspaper reporters use) that he has basically destroyed by now. The casette holder is broken off, and the battery compartment door is long missing. This afternoon he turns it over so the open battery compartment is facing up, and puts his cell phone in there so it looks remarkably like our cordless phone sitting on it's charger.

"I'm charging my phone," he says. Nope, I've got nothing for that one, either.

3. Be carefull what you tell your kids. This evening I was bathing Isaac, and I started playing a common kids game, where you press their nose, and make a funny noise, as if their nose were making the noise. You've all played it, if you've ever played with a kid. So the noise I was making was like a Horn on an antique car, kind of like "Ah - OOOO - Gah", or something like that.

Isaac, of course, thought this was hilarious, and as the game continued, I began to escalate it, because as any good student of comedy knows, if something is funny, the quickest way to make it funnier is to do more of it, more intensely.

So I began making startled faces every time his nose honked, and looking around to see what it was. This was very funny. Then, I decided on a diagnosis.

"Isaac," I said. "I think I know what the problem is. You have an antique car up your nose."

"I have an Auntie Car up my nose?"

"No, and Antique car, a very old car, like we saw at the Santa Claus parade. I think there's one up your nose."

What happened then, I didn't expect. He suddenly looked very startled, and proceeded to jam a finger up his nose up to about the second knuckle.

Realizing my mistake, I announced that I was getting the car out, rubbed his nose, and then pressed his nose a few times and made no sound at all.

"I seem to have gotten the car out. You're ok."

"The Auntie car is out?"

"Yes, the antique car is out."

I find myself vividly reminded of the father in my all time favorite cartoon, Calvin and Hobbes, who used to tell Calvin the most outrageous stories. I think it's a good tradition to continue, to a point, but one must avoid any unneccessary Nasal Excursions as a result.

'nuff said.

$2, and Chakabooka
So this evening, Isaac looks up at me with perfect little blue eyes and says "Can I have two dollars?" I have no idea where he gets this from. So I repsonded with "I don't have two dollars", which was in a way true. Although I do have at least $2 somewhere, it wasn't at home, so I was unable to give it to him.

Isaac responsds with "I want two dollars. Can I have two dollars?" This goes back and forth for several minutes, until I try a new tactic.

"Isaac," I respond, "I don't have two dollars. Would you like a penny instead?"
"Ok."

So as a Sales trainer I look at this and say his closing skills are excellent, but he needs to work on the negotiation end of things. He's got a few years left, but God help the first guy in a suit who walks by his Lemonade stand.

Carnage.

On a different note, Herr Brudermann (my brother, for those in the know) posted a great blog post about Inertia, and how good it is at keeping you from doing the things you want to do. A body in motion tends to stay in motion, but a body at rest tends to stay there too - unless acted upon by an outside force (as my son's namesake, Mr Newton once famously remarked).

He is (my brother, not Isaac Newton) struggling with the weight of inertia, and mentioned a term he had heard in a rather bad movie once: Chakabooka (sp?), which meant a spiritual kick in the butt.

My brother clearly is not happy with his situation, and is a little weighed down with Inertia. He thinks he could use some Chakabooka. He has certainly demonstrated it in huge amounts before, when about 6 years ago or so, he sold off most of what he owned, pulled up stakes, and moved to England. So the ability is there. He just needs to tap into the kind of resourcefullness that got him to England in the first place, and use it to get him out of his rut.

Incidentally, a massive rut is what brought Noelle and I to Ontario in the first place. We knew, once we bought the condo, that unless we did something drastic, that that was going to be pretty much it for quite a few years. It certainly put things like our future, our potential, and our dreams into sharp releif. In other words, it delivered hardcore Chakabooka. Noelle was working part time at a publishing company, and I was selling shoes, and something had to give.

Was it a good move? Well, now Noelle owns a publishing company, and now I teach other people how to sell. However the road to getting here has been kind of long and winding, and for that I blame: You guessed it, inertia.

You see, the deadly other side of an object at rest not being able to move (unless otherwise acted upon) is the tendancy of an object in motion to keep moving unless acted upon by an outside force.

So since we left Calgary 6 years ago, we have lived in 6 houses or apartments, in 4 cities, in two countries. We have lived in more places in the last 6 years than some of our relatives have visited. This presents it's own entirely new set of challenges.

Now in Hamilton, it feels like we are really starting to put down roots. The municipal election last night (the crook is out! Hooray!) really got my political finger itching again, I have made a decision about a church, and my job is simply amazing. I have no intention of going anywhere anytime soon.

I know that if we need a good dose of Chakabooka some time in the not too distant future, we will fully be able to deliver it to ourselves, or even one another. My fear, is that if that day comes, will it take us another 6 years to stop?

It's something for my brother to consider, anyway.

Out of the mouths of babes...
So the other day, Isaac was at his Day Home, where the lady who runs it has a 6 week old infant, and he says "Baby Crying, feed the baby?"
So then he takes a little doll, pulls up his shirt, holds the doll up to his chest and says "I feed the baby."

Clearly, we need to have a talk.

Secondly, Isaac seems to use the terms Mommy and Daddy interchangeably. Specifically, he will say to me "Mommy pick up?"
"I'm your daddy," I will reply.
"Mommy-Daddy pick up?"

He knows what each word means, and to whom it applies, but it's like he just doesn't care, and 'couldn't be arsed' (to borrow Wally's term) to get it right.
So we are, collectively, "Mommy-Daddy". I suppose on some level I should be concerned that its not "Daddy-Mommy", but I guess I know better than that by now.

Also, we spend alot of time entertaining Isaac as he sits on the potty waiting for...well, for potty things to happen. Today we sang "How much is that doggy in the window" for him, with Noelle in charge of singing, and Daddy in charge of increasingly humorous barking noises after each line.

When Isaac likes something you have done, he gives you instant feedback by saying "Again?", and then howling like a banshee if you don't repeat what you have just done.

If he doesn't like it, he says something along the lines of "Mommy-Daddy no do that!"

But the how much is that doggy, he quite liked, so we sang our little duet no less than 6 times. In the end, I didn't care how much the bloody doggy was, I just wanted to get out of the pet store. What can you do?

Finally, Isaac changed today physically. When I went to work, he looked one way, and when I came home his face was longer, there was less baby fat, and he looked older. I swear to God. I know Noelle cut his hair around his ears (it was totally out of control), but it's the actual shape of his face that is different from this morning.

I know they say "oh, they grow up so fast..." but this is ridiculous.