A few weeks ago at lunch time, Henry told me he wanted to make his own sandwich. He went into the kitchen and got started. This is what I observed when I walked in a few minutes later:
A peanut butter, Reese's Pieces and Chocolate syrup sandwich.
Let it serve as consolation that this combination was consumed atop whole wheat bread.
There just aren't words for the way I love this child's mind.
In fact, I'm riding a big wave of love for his mind and the rest of his little self right now. I always love him, but my heart is extra tender for him these days. No good reason. I just can't steal enough hugs, kisses, sideways glances of adoration into those sparkly almond eyes. And what's not to love about a boy who loves to snuggle, settles down at a moment's notice for a story (or seven), engages me (sometimes exhausts me) in ceaseless chatter from morning to bedtime, and keeps me smiling with amusing exchanges like the following:
Me: "Henry, are you getting hungry for lunch?"
H: "Nah, but I am getting hungry for playing cars. And I'm really hungry for playing cars with you!"
He just started quoting movies and books, which I find totally hilarious. Today he told me, "I'm so hungry I could eat a whole zebra!" (a la Simba).
And the other day he said slyly, "Lily, come here, I want to tell you a story!" He then proceeded to (mis)quote from Julius, The Baby of The World, improvising slightly for his audience:
"Once upon a time there was a baby named Lily. If she was a number she would be zero. If she was a food, she would be a raisin. Zero is nothing. Raisins taste like dirt! The end."
The recitation was followed by uproarious laughter (his own).
He likes to be silly, but he really loves her.
Some days I sort of bemoan the tedium of motherhood. (I hate those days).
Some days I marvel at the complexity and creativity of these little creatures I'm caring for. I hope I won't squish the resident genius inside of them. It tickles me to watch their world broaden daily, minute by minute even. To watch them confront and give place to the perplexing realities of life. To stand in silent observation as one of them helps himself to what he really wants for lunch. And wonder when he got big enough to reach the baking supplies and dexterous enough to wield a butter knife.