Sasha’s first act of rebellion entailed throwing the trash away in the wrong bucket. I would ask him to throw a tissue in the compost bin, for example, and he would throw it in the trash. He would grin like a Cheshire cat and laugh at his own audacity. Sometimes after he would do the deed, he would grin in a smug way and report back that he had thrown away the item of question. Other times, he would report back that he had thrown it away in the wrong trash and laugh and laugh like this was the best joke a preschooler ever heard. He was enjoying his naughtiness immensely.

Apparently sending compostables to the landfill was too tame for my boy so he has begun to branch out. He poured my water on my pasta the other night. He tried to pour uncooked rice into the crepe batter yesterday. He knows that I do not like water in my noodles nor do we put rice in the crepe batter. I see his little mind working, wheels turn, hypotheses are explored, experiments undertaken. The ultimate questions is, “What would happen if?” What would happen if I grabbed my mom’s glasses? if I banged on my dad’s keyboard? if I screamed and screamed, because I wanted something I know I cannot have? What if?

The next day, E had to go into San Francisco for a meeting about a project. Sasha is in a phase when he is lovin’ his papa so he did not want him to leave. “But I need to meet with this man to talk about a job, about making money,” E explained. “For the gorilla?!” Sasha asked excitedly. He made no more protests about his father leaving for the business meeting.

When E and Sasha were at the pool the other day, E could only find a parking spot with a 30 minute meter. He was trying to get Sasha to hustle out of the shower and get dressed to avoid getting a parking ticket. Sasha asked what a parking ticket was and E explained that it costs a lot of money, more money even than the gorilla. “Let’s run! Fast!” Sasha screamed. (Побежали! Быстро!)

While eating dinner tonight, you announced, “I like to eat my boogers.” “Fu!” (yuck) E said. Apparently, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, or the mouth of the taster, because you countered, “They taste good to me!” (Для меня, они вкусные!)

After dinner you take a bath and then put on your jammies. You are too creative, however, to go for the old standard of one leg per pajama bottom outlet. Instead, you force both of your legs down one so that you have one long leg with two feet sticking out. You refuse a shirt and then insist that I carry to your father since he’s too far away for you to hop. You announce to Papa that you are “a piece of fish and a piece of person!” (кусок риби, кусок человека) You are a “mermaid.” (русалка)

And with these stories, I will make you blush and your girlfriends say, “Aaah, how sweet!”

The other day when Papa left for the pool he came to say goodbye, but you were busy and did not want to stop what you were doing to give him a hug or kiss. A minute later, you were ready but Papa had already gone. You froze and screamed at the top of your lungs. You cried for 15 minutes straight that you wanted to hug your father. We called him on the phone, but nothing would console you. You had to hug your father and you had to do it now. When you were finally calm, we decided that you would always hug and kiss the people that you love when you are with them to make up for the times when you are apart.

We spent Christmas with your beloved Baba C whose idiosyncratic expressions you picked up effortlessly. When she asked if you would help her with something, you quickly replied, “Certainly!” Just before your bath you explained, “I do not care for water splashing on my face.”

We strung lights in our living room during the holidays and invented the cave game. This game entails entering the darkened living room and thinking it is a cave only to discover the many incongruities — the sofa, the television, windows, a Christmas tree, your bike. Papa explained that people really did live in caves once, but they did not have any of these belongings, no bikes, chairs, toys, nothing. “Who took them?” you asked.

The other day Sasha requested ice cream, but it was dinner time so I said no. My child looked at me and said (in Russian), “Mama, you have a choice. You can give me ice cream or a cookie.“

I figured the boy would be done after an hour, but he was having fun so I stayed hidden. I emerged after an hour and a half because it was time to go to music class and he almost threw a fit that he had to leave!

Let’s hope all the days are this easy.

Tonight I listened in on their lessons, a scone-cooking fly on the wall. After setting up the board, Sasha first moved his pawns out of the way so the queen — the figure that can move anywhere, the strongest figure — could move. (I had to look up the names since I don’t know them in English, because I don’t play chess. Besides, they were speaking Russian and I definitely don’t know the names in Russian.) “I love the queen!” Sasha exclaimed. E swiftly captured the piece, or “ate” it.

“How can I get the queen back?” Sasha asked. Papa explained that this is very difficult and that it’s better to avoid having her captured. Hmmm.”How do I keep the queen from getting captured?” he wanted to know. Well, he would learn that as he got better at chess. Sasha thought about this for a moment and came to a decision, “I will fly a helicopter to the other side and take back the queen!“

Seeing that his son was really attached to the queen, E returned the piece and they started the game over. Sasha gathered all his pawns around the precious figure to protect her, but then E explained that eventually he would have to move and he could not keep the queen constantly surrounded. Sasha looked at the board and tears welled up in his eyes. “I don’t want anyone to take my queen!” he wailed. Crocodile tears streamed down his face as he mourned the potential loss of his favorite chess piece. His chess teacher comforted him and they ended the lesson for the night.

A while back (6 months? a year?) Sasha figured out how to draw circles. Although this was a developmental milestone, I registered it in my head and moved on. Drawing circles is not exactly exciting. Neither is drawing squares which is what my son did for the first time last week. However, Sasha figured out how to put it all together — the circles, squares, lines — to make a drawing that actually looks like something. Now this was exciting!

He’s a little confused about stick figure anatomy; he described the long portion as the “neck” from which the a arms and legs sprout, like, well, little sprouts.

This is me. I look a little bit like an alien, but I think that’s because of the glasses.