Dear Jacob: September 2007

"So Mommy, what do you have going on tomorrow?" This is how you ask me about our plans for the next day. Then I tell you what's up and you pretend that you won't be able to go because you have a building site to go to. But we both know I'm going to drag your butt out to the playgroup whether you like it or not. And you usually end up liking it.

You're beginning to really notice gender differences. One night when I was getting you ready for bed, you pulled up your Bob pullup, then went for the nighttime pullup that we put over that. You paused to take notice of the pink ballet slippers adorning the outside of it. "Mommy? is this a gerwls' diaper?" you asked suspiciously. What do you care, I've been putting the 'girl version' on you anytime they were on sale since the beginning of your life. You couldn't really pinpoint why it was you thought it might be a girls' diaper and I didn't give you any clues. But they're getting to you, this media of ours.

The very next day we were driving down the road and out of nowhere you announced, "I think ladies don't want to work." It took all I had in me not to slam on the brakes in shock. The rest of the drive was spent in deep conversation about this topic. I asked you why you thought that, but again, you couldn't come up with the reason. This time I made a suggestion. I asked if maybe what gave you that impression was the fact that we go to a lot of playgroups during the day (when Daddy is at work) and you usually only see the moms there. I explained that the group we're in is not really an accurate representation of the population, that the moms we know are lucky that they get to stay home with their kids and that they do infact work, whether that work takes place at home, or if they leave the house to go to work, and that even if they don't have a 'job' that they get paid for, they still work their butts off ALL DAY LONG. I explained that some daddies are the ones who stay home, and told you that as we did our errands that afternoon I would point out all the women I saw working at jobs where they get paid. And at the end of the conversation, I'm pretty sure you were very sorry for ever having opened your mouth because you knew you'd never hear the end of it from me.

You're very interested in baseball now. It's rather funny to see you tune into any kind of media source when you see the slightest hint of baseball. The 'Ankees' is what you like, particularly Derek Jeter, who you can easily pick out of a crowd. I do believe your father has finally succeeded in brainwashing you. It is interesting though, seeing you and all the other little boys develop this passion for all things 'boy'. I was always interested in the development of gender and anxious to see with my own kids what was really true; whether we have innate gender roles our brains are programmed for, or if the actual programming happens after birth as a product of our culture. I still have no idea.

You seemed to have reached this new level of perception lately. You're taking into account outside factors and turning them around to apply them to any given situation you're in. I hope that makes sense. I can't think offhand of something to demonstrate that last statement of mine, but speaking of levels of perception - I was out for a little while yesterday and MamMa stayed at our house with you. When I got back I was given a full report, including the part about how you requested two scrambled eggs but when they were cooked you didn't want to eat them anymore. "MamMaaaaa. I didn't want you to tell Mommy about thaaaattttt." you intoned with your eyebrows raised in her direction. And we just looked at each other like, What?! Where did that come from? How does he know already about 'Omitting the Truth'? I consider this a step above actual lying because one would expect a child to simply lie about the eggs, but you had the morality factor in mind. There was something so oh-I-wanna-pinch-his-cheeks about it, that I almost felt bad for her having told me; As if a child smart enough to figure out a way around his mom's omniscent powers, then he certainly deserves to keep a secret or two. I think MamMa felt bad because she is so desperate to be as special to you as Papa is, that she probably would have kept it a secret if she'd previously known your desire.

It's TV season again. Daddy and I don't watch much TV anymore, but we do like three shows. The Gilmore Girls (our family favorite) ended last season, but we have the DVDs to watch whenever we want. LOST (which is the one show we can't share with you) won't start until January this season so we don't quite have to worry about that yet. And that leaves The Office. You saw a commercial for it a couple weeks ago and got so excited. You totally remembered it from last season. "It's cool that the office is on." You said the other night just after it had started. You told me you wanted to see the part where Jim put Andy's cell phone in the ceiling. I can't believe you remembered that, but I must admit that you have good taste because that was probably one of the best episodes of the whole series.

It was never our intention to get you addicted to adult programming, but since you're a night owl and we don't have tivo, let alone cable or the capability to record the show...well, that's how it happened. It's nice to see that there's still some little kid left in there as you go running from the room when a scary commercial comes on though.

People could claim that I shelter you too much, but the thing is that I don't aim to keep you in the dark about the world. I just want to control the way in which you're exposed to certain concepts, or at least be there when that exposure happens so I can explain it in a way I know you'll be able to synthesize. So even though it may not be orthodox, I guess watching The Office has become another one of those things you can place into your file folder of 'weird ways my mother educated me'.

Now, if we could only get you watching Seinfeld...