The Neighbors

We are seriously blessed. Living in NYC, neighbors can make or break a kid. Every hyper step, every jump, every toy clatter is shared. We once sublet above an evil, child-hating couple and it was unspeakably awful. Then we lived above your run of the mill family, pretty particular on foot noise and bedtimes, but generally understanding of major mis-steps. Then we lived above an empty apartment (sheer bliss). Then R and L moved in. And the child found love.

Beyond the delicious desserts and thoughtful trinkets, they seem to truly like the kid. E and I are still scratching our heads (P often seems like a wee bit much to us;) but they remain delightfully dedicated, declaring him the world's most fabulous five year old. (Hearing this always soothes a mother's soul;) So, it wasn't a huge surprise when R informed me that it was L's 40th and that getting birthday wishes from the Little Man would round out his day beautifully.

P took this invite quite seriously, deciding he must make presents (as more is more to a five year old;) First, he hand-sewed L a handsome Totoro doll (it was really awesome - I wish I would have snapped a pic!) Then he did drawing after drawing for his friend, finally rolling them up as scrolls, finished off by purple ribbons. He had to make a few drawings for R, too, so she wouldn't feel left out. Then, into the box went a few favorite rocks, a few fancily cut papers, and whalah ;)

His friends were so sweet, looking over each and every scrap. When a story arose about headstands and neck injuries, P quickly popped over on the couch to prove his prowess. L didn't miss a beat and instantly went bottoms up, too. And this is what I love about the adults in P's life. They are playful. Not a stodgy one on the list. Sure, some may be less likely to somersault than others, but they all play with P. He's a seriously lucky kid.

And speaking of playing with neighbors, the Little Man had a happy, happy time Friday afternoon. Returning from the library, we bumped into one of P's favorite neighbor boys. The two kids fell in step and chatted all the way home. Then they noticed the other block boys were on the stoop playing ball. The game grew and P was (finally) properly introduced to that beloved Brooklyn past-time: baseball (specifically, street ball, played while dodging traffic and crawling under fences to reclaim the ball...) It took him a few strike-outs to get the timing right and when he finally hit the ball, he ran and hid behind a car (thinking he didn't want to be tagged, but not realizing he had to pass home base to be safe:) While P was pleased, it was more of a general happiness to be big enough to run with the bigger boys than pride in his hit. Which was apparent when our little downstairs neighbor patted P's back as they said goodbye, exclaiming with awe, "Phoenix, you hit the winning run!" To which P replied "Do you want to come play at my house now?"

But figuring out whistling this week, that's a whole 'nuther story. If you've passed the child, he's shown you his new trick. "Proud" doesn't touch how pleased he is with himself for that one ;)