Lullabyes

The child is obsessed with the cat.  I can't tell if we're adding years to her life, or taking them away at this point...

A few days ago, he had played with her so continuously all morning that she was exhausted.  Even the child noticed.  He thought I should hold her for a nap.  I was making lunch.  So he decided to put her to bed.  Under the covers.  Surrounded by his mouse collection (both hand sewn and garnered from the pet store around the corner), while singing his favorite song (the instrumental theme song to Harry Potter) and simultaneously blasting it beside her from the computer.  As he came to lunch, he pulled the door, quietly, shut, so she could get some shut eye.  "She really looked exhausted, Mama."  Gee, I wonder why.... ;)

Domo Arigato

After months of darting glances and gentle touches, the child could no longer resist trying on a robot costume kept in a buddy's bathroom.

Sublime at six

Seems there are a lot of surprises at six.  Larger, louder movements.  Powerful passions.  Constant problem solving.  And big questions and theories.  And even some moments of independent invention.  The child was gone into the bathroom for just a few minutes the other day.  Later, when I walked in, well, up there's what I found, after he, apparently, found my packet of headbands :)  Hearing me, he called to me from the other room, "Mama, what are you laughing about in there?"  Hehe.

Then, yesterday, as he dangled and danced in his swing, he pondered, stuff.  "I would rather you die than I die, Mama.  (Pause.)  But if you hadn't ever been, then I wouldn't be.....  (Pause.) If Grams hadn't been, I wouldn't be.  If her Grams hadn't ever been... I wouldn't be!  If Grandpapa hadn't of been, I wouldn't be!  If Grams' great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great Grama hadn't have ever been, I wouldn't be....  (Long Pause) Mama, is everyone related?  Do we all come from just two people?  Did everyone start by just one Grams and one Gramps?"  I thought this was pretty deep shit for someone untouched by the whole Adam and Eve theory. After all, washing dishes while he worked through it all, I'd ventured nothing further upstairs than whether or not I should get a new sponge...

And the curiosity.  Today, as he turned off the lamp, he just sat there for a minute, sloppy grin, true appreciation.  Then, "Mama, isn't it amazing!  How do they trap sunlight in that lightbulb?  Its amazing it can do that..."

Then, tonight, E, the PC guy, was trying to figure something out on the Mac.  He muttered, "How do I get a menu here...."  The child, sitting nearby, innocently responded, "Order a pizza?"

Six.  Love it.

Still snowy...

Wow.  This winter is serious.  The child feels no need to exit the house.  It seems the cold has soaked into our bones.  The chilly top floor flat may have something to do with it ;)  He is laying in his bed now, waiting to drift off, murmuring, "Its so good to be home.  I love being at home..."   Umm, no, we didn't even leave the house today...  I'm not sure what is inspiring his night-time dedications :)

But he can be occasionally lured outside.

Yah, it even feels a little pathetic to me.  Climbing over the trash heaps to play in the snow...  I love Brooklyn and all, but ;)  (Fortunately, the child knows no difference!)  We were en route to book club and he kept flouncing down into the fresh snow.  The joy and simplicity of being six is simply gorgeous to behold.  I will seriously miss it.

But, if the motherly guilt (about the dirty snow and even dirtier looks from passers-by) gets to be too much, at least there can be the occasional (official) Snow Day that takes the child and his Aunt to the park.  Yay!!!

Entering the winter wonderland...

Racing through the snow filled forest...

The building of the first snow-man.  And Igloo.  And second snow-man...

Logically followed by... the burying of the Aunt.  The donning of a stick belly-button and... the energetic flopping on of said Aunt...  Logically.  Can you spell c-h-a-m-p?

No snow play day is fully formed without attempting to force the Aunt into the Igloo...  After (an impressive) relocation of the snow-man, I might add.

This was all a bit ago (though the snow still stands piled by the stoop), and the child, who had no interest in ever,  never, ever leaving the park that day, has yet to acquiesce to another trip in...  At least the snow will still be there when he's ready ;)