Block Party and the Big Boy

P's emotional growth is a time machine of late. He's big enough for Anything, he needs me to wash his hands. He's ready to run an errand himself, he's frantic to hold my hand. He'll put himself to bed, thank you very much, he demands I cuddle him and turn on the night light. He helps me carry boxes of groceries up the stairs ("Look how strong I am now, Mama") he wants me to carry him up the stairs. He talks big, then he tosses in some baby talk....

I've never noticed such a series of expansions and contractions in him before. I've read about it in two's, three's and I'm sure its popular in four's too, but this is the first time we've had such wildly divisive swings. Its fascinating to watch him navigate his need to be autonomous and his need to be cared for simultaneously.

And the block party this Saturday was the perfect stomping ground for a period of expansion. With so many friendly families out all day and the road closed to traffic, the little man had free roam of the block. E was at work most of the day, so if I needed to run to the loo or grab my potluck dish, P proudly pranced around outside by himself. Highlights from the day of fun:

The bouncy house. Quite literally, hours of fun. He'd run out every so often to check on me (often tossing a "I wuv you, Mama" my way :) and the bounce back in.



True Brooklyn style, the fire hydrant was opened by Brooklyn's finest for an afternoon of fun. P got drenched and was determined to "drip dry...." (No, it wasn't very warm, or sunny)



P, captivated, when the firemen returned to shut off the valve:



P fell, hard, for this sweet little dog that was too busy scrounging for scraps to even notice the four year old. His name was Bubbles, and P followed him for over thirty minutes...



P also adores the snow cone kid (he sells them every year at the block party) named Tom. Tom, an adorable 9 year old only child that lives two doors down, was sweet enough to let P run with the big guys. Up and down the block (and its a decent sized hill too!) the four year old raced on his scooter, keeping up with the big guys as best he could. Every once in a while he'd look around to make sure I was there, wave, smile and scoot on towards heaven: