The Most Fantastic

Tonight dinner was almost done when Chas asked if he could paint. It really wasn't a convenient moment but I felt I just couldn't say no. I did warn him though that he would be on his own because I was busy. He found his paint shirt and put it on. A few moments later I looked over to see that he had paper, brush and all of the lids off the paint jars. He started working away. "I really love this brown," he said. "I think its the most beautiful color." I noticed that he was indeed using quite a bit of brown.

A little later Eli came in and said that he too would like to paint. This I knew was really bad timing but I said yes. By then Aaron was home and helped him with his paint shirt. Chas offered to help Eli set up and they both began to work earnestly. I walked over to see how things were going and as I watched Chas paused mid stroke and gazing lovingly at his creation said: "I am the most fantastic artist. I can't believe how good I am!"

Chas is the most fantastic artist. His paintings hang from several walls in our home and I feel joy whenever I look at them. How does he know he's fantastic? It has never occurred to him that he wasn't. Doubt comes with age and living in a world that seeks to diminish self worth. We forget that we are our Father's most treasured creations and compare ourselves to the shadows we see around us. My hope is that each of my boys will maintain their exquisitely fantastic sense of self and always find beauty and inspiration in the browns.

Who needs a gun?

We have guns in our home, real and toys. The boys are aware of the differences and the responsibilities that come with each. In the beginning we didn't have toy guns. I wasn't quite sure how I felt about having my boys play with them and then one day it became clear. AJ came in to the room with a barbie in his hands - I admit to feeling proud that my son was over-coming gender designated toy rules. And then he walked over, bent Barbie in half aimed her at me and said bang bang!

I realized then that my boys were boys and liked guns. Since then we have accumulated quite the hoard but it still doesn't matter because they are quite adept at making anything into a gun! This week alone Eli has turned the following items into guns:

*the spout on Maddax's cereal box
*Pancake batter dispense
*hot wheel tracks
*hangers
*toilet paper/paper towel tubes
*hair brush/comb
*scrub brush
*straws
*blow dryer
*plastic fish
*dinosaur toys
*boot
*rolling pin
*wooden spoon
*grater
*fly swatter
*shoe horn
*ruler
*remote
*vacuum tools
*dustbuster
*spatula
*potato masher
*baster

Four IS Where Its At

Eli is brother number three. As Chas (#2) looks up to AJ (#1), Eli looks to Chas. Chas is four years old now. He gets to go to school and play with friends. He is cool. Just as Chas fretted when AJ was dropped at school, so now does Eli when Chas is dropped.

"I want Chas. I miss Chas. I want Chas to come home now."

This soon turns to: "When can I go to school? Where is my school? Can I go with Chas?"

Today after dropping Chas at school we went grocery shopping. Eli (and I) love the mini shopping carts at Smiths. He pushes his cart behind me and accepts what I put in it, tries to add to it, and I try to avoid being run over. We came home and he wanted to play Hide-and-Seek.

"I'm counting to four cause I'm four," he said. Then proceeded to count to 17. If I was counting he would tell me to count to four, not really caring what number I ended at. Sometimes he would stop me. " Don't count yet because I'm going to do a different plan." He'd look around and decide his next hiding spot then say, "This is where I'm going hide, or "I will hide behind the green couch, now count to four!"

Four is the number all good things come in. "Four cookies please, four grapes please, I want four pickles!" It doesn't matter what number he actually gets as long as its at least three and you don't try to argue the numbers with him. He doesn't care. Four is the number. Logic is irrelevant. Like the rabbits in "Watership Down," anything beyond four is thousands and if you can't have thousands of mm's, well then the next best number is four!

Humilidation

AJ is eight now and quite the reader. His favorite books are the "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" series by Jeff Kinney. At night after the other boys have gone to bed he reads aloud to me from them. After hearing book #5 for the umpteenth time I purchased the entire series for him. He gleefully began at the beginning so that I wouldn't miss out on a thing. His vocabulary is starting to get ahead of him, usually with humorous results. Just last night as he sat reading to me he looked up to find me making faces at him.

"Are you trying to humilidate me?"

I couldn't help but laugh as I asked him what he meant.

"Humilidate! You are laughing at me!"

I could think of a few other definitions for the word he had created, most of them surrounding humiliation and dating but considering that as of now he hopes to live with us forever and never ever kiss a girl I don't think he would appreciate my suggestions.

I apologized for hurting his feelings. How do I explain that I LOVE him, his earnestness, his theatrics, his desire to be good all so much! I LOVE him reading to me and sharing something that he loves with me. This is why I tease him. I guess it is humilidation. After all, isn't that what kids on the playground do when they like someone? Tease them?