My dear son is now a three-day old Kindergartner. The shiny new student smell is still there, though I am noticing differences in the child. For one, his usual tendency towards motor-mouth has been revved up into fifth gear, likely from sitting quietly all day in class. Or as quietly as a five-year-old boy sits. But the instant I pick him up until the moment his eyes snap shut at bed, he talks. And talks... and talks, talks, talks, talks...
On both Friday and today I had to swing by my office after picking him up from school and complete a few mundane tasks. He chattered like a tweaking squirrel all the way into my office, as he fished out a piece of scrap paper and started adorning it with a freebie highlighter. He narrated his drawing process, zipping sound effects as he created four-armed aliens with twenty-seven toes.
And when he's not talking? He's a teakettle. It started about a week ago as he was having some sort of Star Wars firefight -- he made a vaguely whistle-sounding noise, surprising himself. Then he came running to show me, "Mom! I can whistle!" as he pooched his lips and made a breathy, windy sound.
"Almost, little buddy! Keep practicing!"
And now I regret having ever given that edict. Keep practicing. Am I an idiot? Why on earth would I suggest that to him?
Because he did. And now he can whistle. One note. Over and over and over again. He'll whistle rhythmically to songs he hears, doing pretty well with that, but he has no pitch control. So guessing what song he's whistling is nearly impossible. Hint: when in doubt, go with "Ironman."
Not that our little princess is to be outdone! Nope, she's now sleeping in her own room, in her little toddler bed, with dry safety diapers every night. Well, it's been a couple of weeks of dry safety diapers, but one night of in her own room. I have a lampshade to cover and a couple of sheer curtain panels to pick up before I take the "after" pictures, but I think it's pretty cute!
And she is walking around naming things, everything. Sula, Lala, Lissa, Nilla, Bracebrace, and other Scrabble names. Scrabble? Put all the letters in a bag and draw out five or six random tiles to make up a name. Please tell me this is a phase and I won't end up with a granddaughter named Kisla...
And actually she's saying actually a lot. Pretty funny, really. It comes out "Ak-shlee" but she's using it correctly.
"Ak-shlee, mom, your granddaughter's name is Bleena..."
3 comments:
Oh man, I can sooooo sympathize with you on the bottled up energy! My 1st graders come home from school so wound up from sitting on their butts most of the day that I can't get them to stop jumping on the sofa and running around like maniacs!
The whistling is funny...isn't that so typical, though? We encourage them to keep trying at things so they'll get better and then we end up annoyed at ourselves for being so encouraging!
Cherish the time when he wants to share everything with you!
My husband is just like that too after a day of work where he's by himself and has nobody to talk to! Comes home and yacks my ear off!
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