growing up fast

Is there something deeply human about the refusal to use the word "please" when others insist on it? Binbin avidly uses "Please" and "Thank you" and "Sorry" in conversation, and quite generously. But if you ask him to say it, in such a way as to imply that the refusal to say it will get him nothing, Binbin will be stubborn. He will cry and scream and plead until his face is red, his nose starts running, and his little body is shaking. He would rather experience all that, than utter that magic word. Is his fragile three-and-a-half year old ego at stake? Does he think he's going to lose face?

Most days rush by in a blur, and Binbin is growing up fast, in leaps and bounds in the blur. The growth isn't physical, though. It isn't measured in inches and pounds. And he conquered walking, running, and hopping months, even years ago.

The growth is his mental development. Of course, that was happening all along, but now there's language, and it's all the more visible. Even the "please" impasse is a sign of growing up, of testing boundaries, figuring out the dynamics of power.

This past weekend two things happened on the mental development front. It wasn't apparent that the two things are related, but they are.

First, and to return to one of Binbin's latest favorite topics, the film "Iron Giant." In one scene, the little boy gives the robot an English lesson. The giant learns to identify correctly a rock from a tree. Binbin asked, after watching this the second, third, or fourth time, Mama, how to spell rock? how to spell tree? And so I spelled the words, and then put them on his chalkboard, along with pictures and the Chinese equivalents.

Later that weekend, we made an unsuccessful attempt to Bookland before it closed its doors permanently. When we arrived Sunday morning, it was too late. Binbin was inconsolable. Jack and I were pretty sad, too. It was one of our favorite places to take Binbin ever since he was a baby. It wasn't easy (for any of us), but we decided to try going to (it feels like such a betrayal) Borders. There wasn't the train or the games or the same friendly blue-hair cafe crowd, but we did manage to find something that pleased Binbin: a set of alphabet stamps with a four-color stamp pad. Binbin proceeded to use the stamps on his hands, our hands, his face, his pants. He was one colorful kid by the time we headed home.

At home, he began using his alphabet stamp kit to spell words. Words like: rock and tree. There's the "Iron Giant" connection. He eventually graduated to spelling his name: binbin. After a day a Miss Donna's, Binbin brought home another paper with his latest spelling effort. The letters ran: B N I B I N. He was pleased as punch to show me, and he said, it spelled BInbin, and then went on to read the letters: B I, no N, no wait, turn around, no, ohhhhhh, it's backwards, see Mama, I made a mistake, it's supposed to be B I N B I N. I was so proud of him. He correctly identified his error, laughed at himself for his silly mistake, and took the whole thing in stride, and learned from it!

While I'm writing this monster entry, which is to make up for so many weeks, months...I want to fix in my mind, what Binbin is like now, at this very moment.

He refuses to wear jackets and fleeces. Even if it's only 55 degrees in the house, even if it's raining outside. It's exasperating.
He also refused to buy a lunchbox for school. I got him one, on the stealth. It's dark green and has an owl embroidered on it. And though at first, Binbin disowned it; after the first day of school when he used it, he came home and said to me, Mama, don't return the owl lunchbox!
We play pretend we are a family of xiaoguaniu (snails). Binbin starts by saying he is the baby xiaoguaniu, then calls me the Mama xiaoguaniu, then calls Jack the Baba xiaoguaniu. But just this evening, Binbin graduated to being the big boy xiaoguaniu. In his place, Monkey became the baby xiaoguaniu.
Binbin is routinely dry at night, and will choose underwear over pull-ups. Hooray!
He is more ticklish, and especially when he's punchy and you're trying desperately to put him into pajamas. You *really* could use some sleep yourself, but it's hard to resist that out-of-control laughter.
Binbin gets excited about planning a tickle ambush. He whispers, we have to be quiet, let's go upstairs, and tickle Baba. And so, we tiptoe into our room, then whisper 1 - 2 - 3, and we TICKLE!
Binbin still very much enjoys building "caves" out of laundry racks, camping mats, and blankets. And he like to play a curious variation of hide-and-go-seek, in which he tells you where to hide (or alternatively, declares where he will hide) and then the counting and the seeking happens.
Binbin's favorite day is Saturday. Every morning, he asks his questions: are you sure today is Saturday? Sunday? Are you sure you don't have to go to work?
Binbin still refuses (he sometimes uses the defense that he's shy) to talk on the phone. He much prefers a kind of show-and-tell exchange on iChat.
Binbin cast grasp the kitchen door knob and prop his feet into the door panel in order to speak with the children, especially Cassidy, from across the street who like to come ask if he can come out and play.

Finally, Binbin still has nainai (warm milk in two sippy cups) before going to bed, sometimes long before going to bed, but he still finds the routine comforting. And in those moments, he still retains that little essence of babyhood. It can be so sweet, and it's best savored.