Apparently, when you are 5, you no longer kiss your mother on the lips, especially in front of your friends at school. You kiss her on the cheek and look at her like "go AWAY NOW."
Harumph. Moving on ...
This morning, while eating a hard-boiled egg, Hunter did what he always does when he gets to the middle part. He squeals with delight, pulls out the perfectly round, cooked yolk and screams "BABY EGG!!!!!" And then shoves it into his mouth. (He also dug through the spice drawer and insisted on putting chili powder and oregano on his egg ... a fledgling culinary artist, methinks?)
Later today ... some additional birthday pics I didn't post on Facebook.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Sunday, October 10, 2010
The fox, the hound, and Wilder
Just a bit ago, Wilder and I were watching "The Fox and the Hound." It was one of my favorite Disney films growing up. My mom used to take me to see them in the theater and, while the memories are hazy, I do recall sitting there in the dark with her and feeling like we were having a magical experience.
At any rate, the part of the movie came up where Widow Tweed has to take Tod deeper into the forest and say good-bye to him. The hunter has vowed to kill him, and she wants to keep Tod safe. Wilder asked me: "Mama? What's happening??" So I explained to him that, while she was sad to leave him behind, she had to in order to keep him safe.
At which point poor little Wilder's big heart just couldn't take it anymore and he dissolved into tears. He just slumped against me and sobbed and sobbed.
I have no idea if such a level of compassion is normal for a kid his age, but he never ceases to amaze me with his ability to feel empathy (unless, of course, you're talking about empathy for me having to repeat the same thing about 47 times a day). I have a friend who last her husband a couple of years ago, and she has two small boys just a little older than Wilder and Hunter. Wilder wanted to talk to me about where Luke's daddy was, and whether he'd be coming back. When I explained to him as best I could, he just couldn't take it and cried and cried. I gathered he both felt sad for his friend and was scared the same thing could happen in our family. I assured him the best I could, but ever since he's had a small preoccupation with the "Summerlands," which is what we refer to heaven as in our house.
Lately, we've been talking more about things like this. My own mama's birthday was a couple of weeks ago, and in talking about her and where she was now and what she was like, I think for the first time it has started to make sense to Wilder that people go away and don't come back. I wish there was a way to cushion him from this, but I know, all too well, that it's part of life. I remember when my own grandpa Wayne died, when I was about 7, I think ... I was so distraught at the funeral and I just could not seem to stop crying. I fear Wilder might have inherited this from me.
At any rate, I am proud of him for this sense of compassion. Yet, at the same time, it makes my heart hurt for him. He will feel things deeply in his life ... both good and bad.
Note to Future Wilder, should he ever read any of this: You are an extraordinary young man. I am proud of you for many things, but I don't think I am ever prouder of you than when you show what a sensitive and kind human being you are.
As I typed that last sentence, I heard the credits for "The Fox and the Hound" running in the background. And then this exclamation from Wilder: "That was AWESOME!!" So are you, kid. So are you.
At any rate, the part of the movie came up where Widow Tweed has to take Tod deeper into the forest and say good-bye to him. The hunter has vowed to kill him, and she wants to keep Tod safe. Wilder asked me: "Mama? What's happening??" So I explained to him that, while she was sad to leave him behind, she had to in order to keep him safe.
At which point poor little Wilder's big heart just couldn't take it anymore and he dissolved into tears. He just slumped against me and sobbed and sobbed.
I have no idea if such a level of compassion is normal for a kid his age, but he never ceases to amaze me with his ability to feel empathy (unless, of course, you're talking about empathy for me having to repeat the same thing about 47 times a day). I have a friend who last her husband a couple of years ago, and she has two small boys just a little older than Wilder and Hunter. Wilder wanted to talk to me about where Luke's daddy was, and whether he'd be coming back. When I explained to him as best I could, he just couldn't take it and cried and cried. I gathered he both felt sad for his friend and was scared the same thing could happen in our family. I assured him the best I could, but ever since he's had a small preoccupation with the "Summerlands," which is what we refer to heaven as in our house.
Lately, we've been talking more about things like this. My own mama's birthday was a couple of weeks ago, and in talking about her and where she was now and what she was like, I think for the first time it has started to make sense to Wilder that people go away and don't come back. I wish there was a way to cushion him from this, but I know, all too well, that it's part of life. I remember when my own grandpa Wayne died, when I was about 7, I think ... I was so distraught at the funeral and I just could not seem to stop crying. I fear Wilder might have inherited this from me.
At any rate, I am proud of him for this sense of compassion. Yet, at the same time, it makes my heart hurt for him. He will feel things deeply in his life ... both good and bad.
Note to Future Wilder, should he ever read any of this: You are an extraordinary young man. I am proud of you for many things, but I don't think I am ever prouder of you than when you show what a sensitive and kind human being you are.
As I typed that last sentence, I heard the credits for "The Fox and the Hound" running in the background. And then this exclamation from Wilder: "That was AWESOME!!" So are you, kid. So are you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)