baby no more

Elias has truly entered the "I can do it myself" stage.  From putting on socks to feeding chickens, he wants to control the action.  And, although this usually means it will take much longer and I'll be cleaning up a mess afterwards, I do welcome his budding independence, even if it's tinged sometimes with a little nostalgia.  Where'd my little baby go?

Saturdays are my sleeping-in days, and, consequently, Elias' watch-videos-all-morning days.  Last weekend I was trying to sleep when he announced, "Mommy, I made breakfast for YOU!  And, Mommy, I clean up the mess."  How sweet...but, uh-oh.  This deserved investigation.  I drug myself up and into the kitchen to discover he had indeed made some oatmeal (and despite the earlier offer, was now eating it himself).  This is pretty impressive, considering he had to get a chair, move it over to the first cabinet, climb on the counter (something not allowed, BTW) to get a bowl; then climb down and move the chair across the kitchen to Cabinet 2, again climb up on the counter to get the instant oatmeal and empty it into the bowl; climb down and move the chair to the oposite side again to add water to the oatmeal from the sink; then scoot the chair over yet again to the opposite side to put the oatmeal in the microwave and push the "30 sec" button.  Whew!  A lot of effort for a little guy.  And, yes, there was some spilled oatmeal on the counter and a wet puddle on the floor which he'd partly mopped up with a paper towel, but nothing too bad.  And apparently it turned out "ummm...deLIcious!"

I'm also pleased he's progressing so well with reading.  He surprised me, too, by spelling words to me for emphasis, like saying "yes, Mommy, I want some chocolate.  Y-E-S: yes!" or "S-T-O-P, stop, Mommy; that spells stop!"  He likes his dozens of old (memorized) books so much that it's hard to get him to consider new ones, but last night I got him to try one I just bought.  Never having seen it before, he read the title to me:  Go, Dog, Go!  He loved it, so of course wanted to read it again, and again, and again.  With difficulty I drew the line at 3x, despite him playing his cute card and saying "Just one more time.  Three plus one is FOUR, Mommy!  Read FOUR times!"  No; we're done reading it now.  "Five times, Mommy!  Forty times, Mommy--read it FORTY times!"  Forty times?  That's too many.  We already read it three times.   "ONE HUNDRED TIMES, Mommy!!"  I think I was lucky to get out of there at 3.

Get the moon for me

Last night we went to our adoption group.  There were ~20 adults and a multitude of children of all ages.  For the most part, Elias had fun and played nicely with other kids, and I was very encouraged by his interactions, and also the friendly people, shared stories, and wonderful reports of answered prayer.  I've been very worried about the difficulty Elias sometimes has interacting with children his own age and my own loneliness, so this was just the ticket on both counts.  At the end I got a little ego boost, too, as Elias was playing the showman, exuberantly showing off his mathematical prowness as he instructed some older kids in counting and number recognition (putting a "4" and "0" together, for example, to make 40), and showing off his addition skills to any parent who granted him any attention.

When we arrived home, he was marveling at how dark it'd gotten, and pointing out the bright moon.  He often points it out to me, and likes it when he can say it's a "crescent" or "circle" (full) moon.  It wasn't quite full, though.  He reached up towards it on tiptoe and said "I can't reach it.  Mommy, will you get the moon for me?"  Awww... Some things are too far away for mommy to reach, Elias.  And that's a good thing, because I'm prone to wanting to give him more than is best.  So the moon remains above for all of us to enjoy.

a man and his 'dog and his remote

We recently went to the international festival held at Overature Center.  Elias really liked the theater performances but all the time between them he kept asking to go home.  As for cultural experiences, perhaps the most significant was actually his first (I think) American hot dog.  He's had hot dogs plenty of times, but never with the bun.  Handled it like a pro.

I taught Elias how to use the remote control on Saturday so that he could play the "bonus features" games on his Thomas DVD's.  Up until now Mommy has been the ultimate controller for the TV.  He must've spent 2 hours assigning numbers, colors, and names to his favorite engines.  He did have fun, and it did provide entertainment while I continued to try to recover from a really nasty flu, but that single-minded focus on the TV screen still bothers me.  It's not a very good remote, and I see he's already developed rituals to get it to work better, like waving it around in front of him before pushing the button.  He also got a little possessive of it--surely a taste of things to come.

kindergarten wisdom

I had a short but inspiring talk with a little girl as I was picking up Elias from daycare this evening.  She's maybe 5 or 6 years old, with sandy brown hair probably reflecting Northern European heritage that is so dominant here.  I sat down next to her as I was trying to get Elias' coat on him before we left.

L:  Oh!  You're Elias' mom.
Me:  Yep.  (I think more people around Madison know me by that designation than my name.)
L:  I didn't think so at first.
Me:  Why not?
L:  Because he's brown and you're lighter.
Me:  Yes, well some families are like that.
L:  Yes, you're right.  My mommy and daddy are darker than I am.

Then she sprang up and joined with one of Elias' classmates & her dad going out the door and they left in their ginormous black Hummer.  Her description and easy acceptance of something that gets adults so flummoxed was really encouraging.  That girl is being raised right and is a beacon of hope for the future.