Archive for November, 2009

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Besher’s first Broadway performance

November 25, 2009

Besh got back last night from his first trip to New York City with just Nonni and Zayde. Naturally, he had a blast. So much that on Monday he apparently had a bit of a fit in the middle of Times Square as he begged his grandparents to stay in the city for a few more days. Hard to blame him: all the M&Ms he can eat, Broadway shows, cheesecake, the giant Toys ‘R Us, taxi cabs. Heck, I want to go!

He was eventually persuaded to come home and we got to here all about the shows he saw. For the record, he saw three shows which is actually three more than I saw in NYC this year. One of the shows was Mary Poppins, which if you now mention to him will cause him to launch into a spirited song/dance performance of SupercalifragI’mnotgoingtotypetherestofit.

Thanks in no small part to the Kruger mojo, somehow Besher and grandparents got to go backstage after the Mary Poppins performance. No, don’t ask. I’ve found it’s better not to ask. But they went back and met the kids, Burt, and even Mary Poppins herself. Besh shook their hands, complimented them on their performance, and probably sang and danced for them a bit. You know, standard kid stuff.

But at one point Besh got to go on the Mary Poppins stage. Nonni stopped Besh and had him look out at the theater.

“Look, Besh,” she said. “This is what it’s like to be on a Broadway stage.”

“Yeah!” he replied. Then he decided to give an impromptu dance performance on a Broadway stage. Not sure how many other people saw it, and I’m sure he’ll be overlooked come Tony Awards time, but it’s always good to note important firsts, don’t you think?

Posted in Family Adventures, Public Performances | 1 Comment »

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Checking in with your stomach

November 19, 2009

by Sara

Besh attends the best Montessori school ever. Some of the languaging they use with the kiddos includes asking them to “check in with their bodies” to see if they need to use the bathroom, get a drink of water, have a snack and the like. We’ve been trying to use the same wording at home so that it’s all consistent.

Last night at dinner, Besh ate all his pasta. He then did the broad hand sweep and said with a grin, “I’m done!” A few moments later, he came back to the table and asked for some yogurt. We said, “are you sure you’re still hungry? You just said you were finished a moment ago. Check in with your body.”

He looked down at his stomach and said, “are you still hungry?” Then, he looked back and said, “He says, ‘yes’! Please can I have a yogurt?

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In which Besh earns $5 as a performer

November 18, 2009

I’ve previously mentioned Besh’s affinity for watching the Tony Awards. But I don’t think that partly from watching this and partly from all the shows he’s seen, Besh has been in a kids dance class for a few months now. It’s a class for 2 and 3 year olds, a mixture of ballet and tap. Technically it’s called Creative Movement or something, but it’s at a dance school and he has dance shoes, so I call it dance class.

Yes, he’s the only boy. Yes, he’s been called Billy Elliot. And yes, I’ve already had some comments lobbed my way or in my vicinity when I take him. It’s a bit surprising to see such narrow mindedness in Austin, but I don’t care a lick. I figure if all their daughters and Besh stick with dancing for the long haul, in about a dozen years they’re going to have a different reaction to Besh.

Come spring there’s a dance recital for each class. Which means costume deposits are due in November. All the girls are getting fancy fairy costumes with wings and such. I think the instructors were a bit unsure what to do with Besh, so we’re providing black pants and a white button-down shirt (or “work shirt” to use the proper Beshism) and they’re providing a vest and bow tie that matches the fairy costume. Getting the vest required me to go get his measurements, so yesterday we went off to the tuxedo shop at the mall.

Walking into the empty store I told the man working there we needed measurements for a costume. He said it would be $5 and I wasn’t going to quibble. I showed him the packet the dance school had given me, but that was geared towards the girl costume (which made him much less uncomfortable after he’d seen a line where they had asked for the Girth measurement). The instructors had already told me as much, but they weren’t sure what measurements they needed for the vest. Like I said, Besh is the only boy. I think for a few years’ worth of classes there.

The tuxedo man wasn’t sure what measurements to do either, but he proceeded to measure and write down various measurements. Besh was enthralled with the process and the store. He kept walking up to various tuxedos, vests, bow ties and showing them to us.

“Have you seen THIS?!?! WOW!!!”

or

“This is such a fancy suit!”

One small tux had a number 4 on it, some kind of size.

“I can’t wear this because I’m three. But when I’m four, I can wear this. Won’t that be EXCITING?!?!”

After filling out a few measurements the tux man knew of, and inventing a few more (underarm to waist which I heretofore dub the Untowai measurement), I took out my wallet to pay him.

“Keep it,” he said. “It was worth it for the entertainment.”

So there you go, Besh earned his first $5. Which he would have promptly spent on riding the mall’s Christmas train if it hadn’t been closed.

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Humor starts at home

November 17, 2009

Friends know that Sara and I are fans of comedy. Probably more me than her, as I’ve no doubt dragged/forced her to watch things I think are funny, but for the most part are senses of humor line up. Personally, I like almost all comedy movies, musical comedies on Broadway, jokes, puns, half the editorial cartoons out there, Norm McDonald, Eddie Murphy’s singing career, and virtually all improv comedy. (But I’ve tried and cannot find The Family Circle funny, except when Billy is walking all over the neighborhood/house because that dotted line cracks me up–I mean, who leaves a dotted line?)

So that said, I probably need to compose a proactive apology to all of Besh’s school teachers because I know what they’re in for. (Actually, I may need to apologize to his current teachers, but so far so good.) Mostly because I still remember what I inflicted on my teachers. Hopefully they found some of it amusing–I know I found it all funny. And when Sara joins me in the jokes…well, Besh, sorry but you never had a chance.

Case in point: on Sunday we were meeting some friends at Maria’s Taco Xpress for some gospel brunch tacos (fun place, by the way). Besh had just bought some big boy tie-up shoes at the mall with his grandparents the night before. And he loves getting dressed up. So we had this conversation:

Besh: “I want to wear my work shirt.” (a button shirt with collar)

Me: “That’s okay, you can wear that.”

“And my tie-up shoes. And a tie.”

“Well, let’s wear your regular shoes. And you don’t need a tie.”

“But I want to wear a tie!”

“Besh, this isn’t really a tie place.”

Without missing a beat, Sara and I said the next line together.

“It’s a mexican restaurant.”

We cracked up. Besh gave us the ‘my parents are insane’ look (which I urge him to keep practicing).

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When Mommy Doesn’t Know: Call for the answer

November 16, 2009

Besh has been in a fun – albeit occasionally challenging – new phase for a few months.  He likes to ask why.  A lot.  But, it’s usually relegated to asking about stories.  “Why is Shrek an ogre?”  “Why are ogres green?”  “If Humpty Dumpty is so fragile, why did he sit on a wall?  That’s not a good idea!”  “Why is the big bad wolf going around blowing down houses?”  I have tried the old parenting trick of “what do you think?”  He then hazards a guess and says, “Mommy, I really don’t know.  Please just explain it to me.”  Often, I don’t have an answer (a lot of these literary inquests happen on the car ride to school in the morning.)

When I was in NY a few weeks ago, my sweet friend, Eva, gave me some presents for the little guy on the way and for Beshaboo.  One of the things she gave me was a CD/book combo of There was an old lady who swallowed a bat.  This was a huge hit.  I hadn’t realized that Besh had read it at school.  As soon as I showed it to him, he exclaimed, “That’s There was an old lady who swallowed a bat!  I love that book!”  We’ve been listening to it in the car.  For those of you unfamiliar with this book, the old lady swallows a number of things in an effort to chase the bat.  But, the narrator always returns to the refrain, “I don’t know why she swallowed a bat.”

For quite a while, Besh would ask me, “why did she swallow the bat?”  To which, in the end, I would go back to the lamest answer ever: “because that’s how it was written.”  Besh was dissatisfied.  So dissatisfied, in fact, that he did not want to hear the story for a while.

This morning, he asked to hear it on the way to school.  When the narrator got to the first “I don’t know why she swallowed a bat,” Besh said, “Mommy – please you can turn it off for a minute?”  I did.  He then says, “I am going to call that guy from the story.”  He picks up one of the phones he has in the toy basket next to his car seat.  This is what I hear:

“Hello!  You’re the man from the story?”

“Why did the old lady swallow the bat?”

“Oh – it’s supposed to be funny?”  <pause> “Oh, you mean it’s like a joke?”

“Oh, ok.  Thank you very much!  Bye, bye.”

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And Einstein had a problem with split infinitives

November 11, 2009

Yesterday was one of Besh’s eye doctor check-ups. Due to a cataract, we go every few months and do an eye patch routine daily. This was the first time I was able to go and it was great to see Besh fly through the tests since he knows the whole routine.

After doing the initial screening we went back to see the doctor. He did some additional tests including one where the doctor held up a small cube with various pictures, moved it around, and asked Besh to identify the picture. Besh was excited to do each one.

“Car! Flower! Birthday cake!”

Once he was done, the doctor looked at Besh and said, “Besh, that was fantastic! You’re a genius!” Besh grinned.

“Yes I is!”

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Couple different anecdotes – mama’s on the blog

November 9, 2009

[Note from Ryan--This was actually done on April 13, but I just realized it was never approved. Going to work with Sara to make sure she has access to blog here for the exciting months to come!]

Hi all!  Ryan hooked me up so that I can contribute now.  Hopefully, it will just help us remember even more fun stuff.

So two, tiny stories for my debut – both from this morning.  Gamaw (Ryan’s mom) was in town for the weekend.  She has a VW bug (consequently, all VW bugs are known as “Gamaw cars”).  Besh has a miniature model of one.  When he woke up this morning and realized she was heading back to California, he suspended his Gamaw car on a plastic drumstick (so that it looked like wings).  He then said, “this is Gamaw’s airplane.  It’s taking Gamaw back to California.”

The second event happened on the drive to school this morning.  Besh has known the Spanish words for the colors red, blue, green and yellow for over a year.  Today, we passed by Chuck E. Cheese and he said, “Mommy – that’s the yellow Chuck E. Cheese.  There’s a yellow Chuck E. Cheese and a purple one.  That’s the amarillo (sp?!) one.”  Then, he thought about it for  a second and said, “what’s the Spanish word for purple?”  We asked his wonderful teacher when we got to school.  We now know the word is “morado (sp?!)”.

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The welcome home and life lessons from a three-year-old

November 3, 2009

Two stories, but more connected than you’d think.

First, after a long, difficult business trip to India, I finally made it home Saturday afternoon. Thanks to a slightly early arrival, my getting a seat in the first row of economy, and hightailing it down to the baggage claim, I managed to make it down the stairs a few seconds before Sara and Besh walked in the door. I saw them just as Besh turned his head to me. I noticed he had a large silver troy trumpet in his hand, but all I could look at was his giant grin as he started running toward me.

I’m guessing the trumpet threw him off balance, because a few steps toward me and he tripped hard. He caught the brunt of the fall with his free hand and the trumpet, but even as I was rushing toward him I saw he never lost his grin and got right back up and ran the rest of the way to me. It was just about the best hug ever.

After a hazy weekend (on my part, thanks jetlag!) we got back into our routine. Yesterday before dinner, while Besh was having some patch time (I think I’ve mentioned before he has to wear a patch every day to help strengthen one eye) he wanted to watch his Broadway video upstairs. So up we went. One of the lengthier scenes he likes to watch is a clip from Coco, a musical from 1969 starring Katharine Hepburn. The scene shows Coco (Hepburn) becoming upset when the woman she has in a way adopted shuns Coco’s life of all work and instead goes off with her soon-to-be-fiance. Coco is upset and launches into a song (well, as close to a song as Hepburn could manage).

Besh: “Daddy? Why is Coco so sad?”

Me: “Well, Coco wanted to have dinner with that girl but the girl went to have dinner with that boy.”

“Oh. That’s not why she’s sad.”

“It isn’t?”

“No.”

“Why do you think she’s sad?”

“I think she’s sad because she doesn’t have love in her heart.”

Posted in Besher Conversations, Growing Up | Leave a Comment »

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