Almost daily I wish desperately that I could freeze my children into in amber. I want to remember exactly who and how they are right now.
Lately Whit is slaying me with adorableness and hilarity. There’s his under-his-breath proclamation that someone is a “tionary,” or his loud, from the back seat question while we sit in traffic, “Which donkey hole isn’t moving?”
Things I love about Whit right now, May 2013:
The other day, as we drove to school, Whit exclaimed “look at that!” from the backseat. I glanced back to see that he was pointing out a newly blooming patch of daffodils along a fence. “So pretty, ” he sighed. May my son always notice things around him, including the flowers.
Last Sunday, at family dinner, Matt announced his idea that each of us pick something that’s hard for us to do that week. He was going to go for a long run, Whit was going to eat his whole lunch, etc. Matt’s suggestion for me was that I introduce myself to two new people at baseball practice. I must have blanched, because Whit reached over and patted my hand. “I’ll help you. I’m not shy,” he said, smiling at me. And he did.
Over the weekend I was trying to recruit a child to come with me to the grocery store. They were reluctant. “I’ll let you pick out flowers for your room!” I tried. Whit was instantly in. He loves having fresh flowers in a vase in his room. This may be connected to #1.
Whit’s loyalty to me knows no bounds, and is often completely without logic. He will stand up for me whatever the situation, back me no matter what, even when there’s no reason to. The weekend I was away for work recently Matt called me, aghast at how Whit always, no matter what, defended me (what were they talking about that this was notable, I wondered?). He presumed I had put Whit up to this, but I had not. I know I won’t always be his favorite person, but right now I suspect I am.
A couple of months ago we were at someone’s house and the kids had vanilla ice cream. I did not know if the chocolate sauce was safe for Whit (he is allergic to nuts) and I told him that. I expected him to be upset and instead he shrugged his shoulders, resigned. A moment later he asked if he could put maple syrup on his ice cream. “How very Canadian of you, Whit,” someone noted. I was impressed with both his understanding of why he couldn’t have what the other kids were having and his resourcefulness in coming up with another idea.
Recently, Whit bemoaned the fact that the magnolias were all gone, already. “It’s so fast, Mummy,” he said morosely, and I had to swallow before agreeing. But then he bounced back, announcing that “so many exciting things are happening right now!” I asked him what he meant. He explained that the trees were all in bloom, the chicks at school had hatched, and the chrysalises they had been following were all beginning to crack and butterflies were imminent. My little naturalist. My little noticer.
I can’t stop time, that much I know, but I can do my best to pay attention and to capture its minutes as they fly by.
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