Finny 'n Yon!

Saturday, Libby did something that I would not have endorsed for at least another year--she took Gabe to a movie. Over the past six months or so, Gabe's attention span has increased dramatically. He is very nearly capable of sitting in front of a movie from start to finish--very nearly. The thing is, when he's NOT sitting in front of it, he's expending some rather impressive amounts of energy with quick bursts of extreme activity--as if his internal pressure valve is nearing capacity and he has to blow off a little steam or explode in a frightening display of hyperactivity. He generally has one to three of these pressure releases during a ninety minute movie.

So, considering my disinterest in self-inflicted pain and social discomfort, I had imposed a timeline of roughly six to twelve more months before taking him to a movie, possibly even waiting until he was a teenager, just to be safe. After all, I have almost no memories of seeing movies in the theater until the early to mid-80s, putting me between eight and ten years old. Then I remember seeing a glut of movies in the theater--Return of the Jedi, Ghostbusters, Back to the Future, and several others. Granted, we only had two movie theaters within a half hour of us, and, at the time, Hollywood hadn't decided to capitalize yet on the younger audiences, so it wasn't unusual for there to only be one kids' movie a year released, and that was always a Disney movie, possibly just a re-release of something that had originally hit theaters in the 50s or earlier. But that's neither here nor there. I turned out just fine, right? Right?

Anyway, Libby decided that she wanted to brave the theater, so she took Gabe to a morning showing of Toy Story 3. Since the morning showings at theaters are always designated with small children in mind, the theater was understandably devoid of life. She said there weren't more than a dozen other families there. So that was a blessing, at least. Had the theater been packed, who knows how Gabe would have done. As it was, he was able to stretch out with his blankie and binky and watch the movie while periodically getting up and stretching without causing too much of an uproar with the other patrons.

All things considered, he did VERY well. He made it through the movie without too much trouble, only needing to leave shortly before it was over to go to the bathroom. We'd installed a diaper as a precaution before they left for the theater, but he'd managed to hold it through almost the entire movie before needing to visit the bathroom (something my notoriously small bladder and I almost never do). Pretty good considering he often can't make it through the movies he watches upstairs without coming down, most of the way through the movie, to inform me that he's had an accident. So, I guess this means that Gabe is theater-ready now. Hurray . . . .

On to the meat of the story. The Toy Story series hasn't been among Gabe's favorites to watch. He likes the toys and other assorted junk that we've picked up for him based on the movies, but the films themselves he's not been particularly taken by, probably because the story is heavy on story and a bit short on frantic activity (though, oddly, his favorite movie right now is WALL-E, which I NEVER would have guessed he would like considering how little goes on through much of that movie, and he's yet to make it through Finding Nemo despite the fact that it's one of the more actiony Pixar movies, so I guess there's no predicting what he'll like. Maybe he just doesn't like fish. Can't really blame him there. They do stink). After seeing the third movie, though, he's been all about Toy Story the past couple of days.

Then, last night, to cap off the weekend, Libby ran to Walgreens and picked up a Buzz Lightyear doll. It's about eighteen inches tall, so it's a pretty good sized one. She ran to the store after Gabe went to bed last night and bought it. Then she went up to his room. He wasn't quite asleep yet, so he looked up. She had the doll behind her back.

"Someone wants to snuggle with you," she informed.

"Momma lay down with me?" he asked excitedly. He loves to snuggle with Momma in his bed (not so much Daddy, since I can't lie still long enough for Gabe to get comfortable, so we both just end up getting antsy and giving up on the snuggle time).

"No," and she presented Buzz.

He was very excited. He introduced Buzz to his bed and tucked him in carefully so they could go to sleep. This morning, pretty much everything he's done has included Buzz. He showed Buzz how to play with Play Doh. He showed Buzz his trains and cars upstairs. And, for a good chunk of the morning, he watched Toy Story with Buzz on the couch. He hasn't yet made Buzz watch him go to the bathroom, which he's done with most of his other prized toys, so I guess the initiation isn't yet complete.

Gabe and Buzz. Also note that Gabe has decided to switch back to his OLD binkies (the rule is he has to be snuggling on the couch or in bed to use it, and he's figured out the loophole that PART of him is all that needs to be on the couch for it to count). I hoped that running out of the binkies he's used for the past year or so would discourage him enough to give up using them. Instead, he happily switched back to his old ones. Ugh.

Well, mostly watched. He was pretty quiet up there for, I don't know, the first hour of the show or so. Then, out of nowhere, I heard this cringe-inducing THUD, coming from our room. I went up the stairs and looked into our room. The light was on and Gabe was in there (he knows he's not really supposed to go in there, but he does it all the same).

"What are you doing in our room?" I asked. "You know you're not supposed to play in there."

"I'm just looking at my pool," he said. He went to the window and looked outside on the swimming pool in the back yard. Pretty good story, I thought. Perfectly plausible, except for the loud noise I heard before.

I surveyed the room, and nothing looked broken. That was a good sign. Whatever he'd done had probably just involved his own body, and, since he wasn't crying, I had to assume that it wasn't broken either.

"But what about the loud bang I heard a minute ago?" I pressed.

"I'm just flying," he said off-handedly, as if I was a dullard for not just assuming something so mundane might be happening on my second floor.

Fortunately, he didn't repeat the stunt for my viewing, as I would have had to stop him for fear of broken bones, but I have to figure that he jumped off our bed onto the floor. He did, however, illustrate another kind of imitated flight, I guess to prove that it was possible. He pulled himself onto the footboard and balanced himself, legs outstretched, on his stomach.

"Finny 'n yon!" he shouted. He's been shouting this a lot the past few days. Sometimes it's closer to "Infinity and Beyond" than others, but if he's excited, the phrase gets the abbreviated version. This time it actually might have been closer to "Fin 'n yon!" Syllables are for the uninvolved, I guess.

He stayed there long enough to shout it a couple more times, then he lowered himself back to the floor, repeated the phrase a few more times, then got distracted with the sproingy door stop thing that we have in our room, which has provided hours of enjoyment over the years. He sat on the floor and sproinged it a half dozen times.

"I'll leave you to it, then," I said.

"Finny 'n yon," he said under his breath in response and he sproinged the door stop again.

After that, he fed Buzz some cheese and crackers, "flew" him down the stairs, made him a few play doh robots, then settled in to watch a little TV on the couch while I made lunch. I have to say that I'm a little sad that Gabe's glommed on to such a commercial toy, giving up on his old, more imagination driven stuffed animals, but, then, it's only been a morning since he got Buzz. Hopefully he'll remember his old favorites, too. I guess we'll just have to see.