Monday, July 16, 2007

He's a Monomaniac, Monomaniac on the Dance Floor

So. Sam seems to have rounded a bend with the heavy equipment obsession that has dominated our lives for months.

Oh, he still enjoys a visit to a contruction site every now and again, and his toy excavator is definitely his most precious possession, but, generally speaking, machines no longer form the central focus of all our activities. When we're drawing pictures (or, more specifically, when Rusty and I draw while Sam dictates the subject matter), we're now allowed to draw animals, trees, and alien spaceships. When telling Sam stories, I no longer have to bastardize old fairy tales by replacing the characters with construction equipment (i.e. Goldilocks and the Three Excavators, The Three Backhoes Gruff, Jack and the Dump Truck, etc.). And at mealtimes Sam no longer demands that we feed him by pretending to be Mike Mulligan while his spoon is Mary Anne.

So, you know, progress. Yay.

But like any hardwired monomaniac, Sam, of course, has to trade one fixation for another. And right now he's all about animals. I'm cool with that, though. For one thing, I like animals, whereas (and don't tell Sam I said this, because I will deny it vehemently) I couldn't give a rat's ass about construction equipment. And for another thing, there are way more species of animals than there are types of heavy machines, so the repetiveness factor, while never totally eliminated, goes way down.

So no one was more gung-ho than I when Sam proposed a recent trip to the library to get more animal books. Once there, we trolled the shelves with the thoroughness that only an obsessive two-year-old can muster, and Sam eventually picked out his allocated five titles. The first four were pretty much the kind of fare I expected, given his preference for exotic critters:
  • Alligators and Crocodiles
  • Australian Animals
  • Animal Dads
  • Nights of the Pufflings (Note: This book makes me cry.)
But this last book (one that I'll admit I tried, in my own futile way, to dissuade him from getting) has me freshly worried:

Someone hold me. Please?

8 comments:

Rae said...

Oh, man.

Be strong, we're there for you.

Frédérique said...

Soooo... how many types of aircrafts are there?

Emily said...

Good thing he can't read yet. Internet linked? Endless supply of material. Ack!

Sarah said...

My baby brother went through the heavy equipment phase, and then got into the combat aircraft phase when he was about five. He knew all their names... the whole thing.

22 years later, he just took the oath, and leaves September 8 to fly fighter jets for the Navy.

I keep trying to get the scared out of my head with a mantra of "I'm very proud I'm very proud I'm very proud"....

Kristina said...

Ditto. My brother could tell you what kind of aircraft, national affiliation, and gunpower, a plane had just by looking at a silhouette of it. Of course, my father being military himself, he only encouraged this sort of behavior.

In any case, the brosef never grew out of it. And while his being blind as a bat has prevented him from becoming a pilot, it didn't prevent him from getting into West Point. He's been in Iraq once already and is going again in March for 2nd tour, this time for 15+ months.

So I say, the best thing you could do right now is have another baby to distract him. :)

landismom said...

Oh dear. First, we can never show my son that book.

Second, I'm sending you a big ol' cyber-hug.

Finally, I'd like to have a transcript of Goldilocks and the Three Excavators, if it's not too much trouble.

BabelBabe said...

maybe he thought they were big insects and when he realizes they're not, he'll want to return the book...?? one can hope...

Udge said...

Nah, he's just male. We love technology and machines, and military equipment has always been the most exciting stuff of its time. Most of us do grow out of it, so don't sweat it yet.