Tenderness

Anselan was a nightmare for his father all weekend, which was supported by the screaming that I heard perpetually when I called to check in several times on Saturday and Sunday. When I picked him up today, he jumped into my arms and kissed my lips very tenderly (Recently, he has abandoned his penchant for licking mine--for which I am grateful. He used to say, "That's how I do it," rather indignantly if I asked him to cease.) We had incredible convo too. We talked about plans for the week and about what he learned today. He told me about wanting to get to the park quickly with his new wooden dump truck, cement mixer, and crane. It is a rather beautiful set.

Counting myself lucky for a GREAT afternoon and evening with him, I wanted to abandon any need that I had and just attend to him and his. I can't remember a day like this in a long time, actually. He is also VERY excited to have a day at the firehouse, which is coming in June. He asked me, "What are the other firefighters' names?" I told him that I honestly did not know. Convinced that the fire chief is Charlie, and that two other rather important ones are named Arnie, and Joe, I asked him were there any female firefighters, and he said, "No." I always have secretly wondered if I could pass the strength tests. Probably not now with being close to 35, but when I was younger, I'll bet I could have.

I wrote this entry because today was such a rewarding one with him: in the car, at the park, at sushi, and then at the playground by our house. There was an absolutely beautiful 27-month-old middle eastern child at our last venture whose father asked me if I spoke Arabic. Having rather malleable and difficult to determine features, has made me often the topic of much speculation in terms of my ethnicity. I was so encouraged by Anselan talking to her and giving her both the cement mixer and crane to play with--not just because they were new to our country (He told me that he and his family were here just 5-months.), but also because he shared his favorites with a stranger. My friendly little man! I'm so proud.

When the truck just went by moments ago filling the air with the "whoo-whee" and seeing the lights reflect into my house, I was reminded of my son as a 7-month-old. His eyes would always widen when this incident occurred and he would then look at me. Extending his left index finger into the air and waving his arm in little circles he would smile and indicate that he heard the whistling and was excited for the firetruck. I am proud of his exuberance, and who he seems to be becoming. More tears abound...