Jasper and I hung out for the first time in a month yesterday. He had been visiting his grandparents in New York. I continue to be in awe over the development of a little person. I know I am biased - but he is so smart and funny and sweet ...

And he is asserting his will. Yesterday was the first time I've ever put him into "Time Out." Although I've never fully bought into the concept, it seemed to work brilliantly to interrupt the power-struggle without me simply dominating him. How do we honor and respect the individual while still doing the things that need to get done? (In this case, he didn't want his diaper changed, but I did it anyway)

While out and about, we stopped in a few stores on Pearl Street, and found some pretty sea shells. I bought one for my mom, and because Jasper was so enthralled, decided to buy one for him. All the way home we talked about caring for the very fragile shell, and then he asked me where it came from. I said something about the sea creature/animal that made the shell for its home, and then he asked, "where is the animal?" Hmmm. It's my general rule to NOT lie to kids, even at that age. I could say that the animal moved away, but I think that's a perfect example of how we avoid subjects that we think will damage our kids, and end up being weird about whatever they're asking about. So I said, without really thinking about it, "It died."

I have no idea how developed Jasper's concept of death is, especially in language, but he was so brilliant in expressing himself. He said, "Mimi, I don't like when animals die." (He calls me Mimi) I responded, "I know, Jasper, I don't either, but every living thing dies at some point." I then found myself hoping I wouldn't anger his parents. I don't want to encourage fear of death, but I also don't have some other mythos to offer him. I'm not going to say, 'but it's okay, because good things go to heaven.' I don't believe that, and I think it's a horrible way to avoid dealing with the pain and loss of death.

And, he's two years old. Where is the balance between too much and too little information?

I know that people have varying capacities - a two year old can not grok the same things a four year old can, or a ten year old, etc. I experienced this while teaching - there's a limit to how much information I can pack into an answer. ("Where do babies come from?" is a good example)

Through everything, I am most amazed by his wonderment. In another conversation, he said, "why are my shorts blue?" I responded with something about the fabric, blah blah. He then said, "They're like dolphins. Dolphins are blue. Why are dolphins blue, Mimi?" Funny how I don't know the answer. I said something like, "the same reason our skin is our color, or a zebra has black and white hair..." I don't know when I'm actually being helpful, or when I am giving vague answers.

My favorite part of yesterday was when I had him listen to the shell. "Do you hear that?" I asked. He held the shell to his ear like I had showed him to, and said, "What is that sound, Mimi?"

"It's the ocean, Jasper." (Who has not been told the very same thing?)

"Where is it Mimi?"

"Where is what?"

"The ocean. I don't see it," he responded, peering inside the shell.

"The ocean isn't in the shell, the shell carries the sound of the ocean with it."

Funny how I refuse to lie about death, but am willing to pass on what I find magical, whether it's "true" or not. What a strange place to be in.