Perspective

This morning, Hesperos and Mommy were talking about helicopters. Mommy shared with Hesperos the bombshell that he has, in fact, taken a flight in a helicopter. Hesperos' 4-year-old world was shaken - he had no idea he had participated in such an exciting experience. He asked when and why he was in a helicopter.

Even though Hesperos was born almost fully baked and nearly nine pounds, his lungs were a little under-developed with fluid in them that turned rapidly into pneumonia. Consequently, when Hesperos was only a day old, he was air-vac'd from his hospital of birth to another hospital in the city that had a dedicated neo-natal ICU division for care.

As any parent can imagine, it was extremely stressful - at that point, we'd never had an unhealthy newborn anywhere in our immediate or extended family and losing your newborn to an incubator for two weeks (when you already have a toddler at home) is a difficult experience, to say the least.

Hesperos, with all the joy and simplicity of a 4-year-old, laughed when he was told about his NICU experience. "Mommy," he said chuckling, "of course I had problems breathing when I was a baby. I had a very little nose!"

And with that, the memory of two weeks of parental anxiety was wiped away.

Run, Boys, Run!

There are few things that come more naturally to children than running (unless it's depositing a thread of toilet paper still attached to the roll directly into the toilet, flushing the toilet, and watching it pull the toilet paper in...but that's another post). Genius was the (wo)man who invented the school jog-a-thon fundraiser where a child's energy can be put to good use (on a school day, no less!) and every lap around the track equals a little bit of money out of a hapless relative's wallet.

Living in the land of Nike and Adidas, running is the trans-generational activity for the trendy. Having seen 3.5 of my (somewhat sedentary) relatives convert into running enthusiasts, I am fairly sure that a pair of sneakers has an evangelical power second only to one of Jesus' disciples. Is it any wonder that given such an influence, combined with their own natural competitive enthusiasm and zeal for activity, that both boys would be good little runners?

May was jog-a-thon month for us (yes, this post is tardy) with events sponsored by each child's school. Helios' school featured a (standard?) 1/4-mile marked grass-track where the children ran during a full lunch hour. Mommy even took a break to join Helios for a bit, shedding flip-flops where necessary to run along. (Although flip-flops are an appropriate handicap for an adult racing with a 5-yr-old.) Helios completed his race at 3.25 miles or 13 laps, a distance we feel is very respectable for a child his age. We also learned that when Helios races, he immediately puts himself into the "Speed. I am speed." mentality of Lightning McQueen, complete with imagining his fellow contestants are other race cars trying to force him into the pit.

In that respect, Hesperos is not that different in that he, too, experiences delusions of being a Disney-fied dolled-up race car with non-functioning headlights. However, his motivation was more to either catch-up with or show off to the little 4-yr-old girl with the bouncy curls just a little ahead of him. Hesperos raked up an extremely ambitious 25 laps on a 1/8-mile course at a park...which just goes to show his generous relatives that before making a "per lap" pledge, first confirm the size of the course and check that against the anticipated energy of the child. Intelligent was the supporter who made a flat pledge, and generous was the supporter who didn't begrudge the per lap payment.

Impressively, the Saturday after their jog-a-thons, both boys ran with Mommy and Daddy in the local 10k. By "ran" we mean that Helios had to be cajoled, encouraged, blackmailed, and slightly threatened to make the last two miles of the ~6.25 mile run -- and Hesperos was carried on Daddy's shoulders alternating half miles. The chips reveal that Mommy and Judah came in fifth/sixth to last. But, given we beat Daddy/Hesperos (who came in second to last/last, preceded immediately by the man pushing his pregnant wife in a wheelchair and the other man running on a prosthetic), we felt pretty good.

All told, the boys managed to raise about $700 combined for their two schools. And they felt a great sense of accomplishment. We're feeling brave enough to have them both run with us for the Thanksgiving 10k fundraiser for the local food bank, although we'll probably park a car halfway just in case.

The Rice and Beans and Cheese and Chips Place

As I went through photographs tonight, seeking pictures of experiences that should've been blogged about but were not, I was struck by the number of photographs taken at ... of all places ... Chipotle.

At the risk of sounding like a corporate endorsement, there are few dining places that get the kids as excited as the "rice and beans and cheese" place. For the uninitiated, this magical place is Chipotle, mecca of affordable (albeit high sodium) customizable meals, the most important of which is the a la carte selection of rice, beans, cheese, and a little fresh tortilla. Preschooler heaven!

The trip to Chipotle proceeds like this:
- Run inside.
- Grab a few menus, preferably 3 or 4 per child. Mommy argues with children about how they're wasting paper.
- Children insist on being lifted high enough to order their own food.
- Children order their own food, may press noses or mouths against Plexiglas, leaving the Chipotle staff thankful for the health code requirement that placed the glass there. Parents' arms buckle under the weight of carrying children, employees politely indulgent even as parental ire increases.
- Mommy pays, children run away, Daddy chases them.
- Children play Goldilocks at the tables ("this one is too big, this one is too small, this one is just right"), Daddy chases after them, Mommy fills drinks, children shout orders from their table.
- Children shovel food in, liberally sprinkling rice over the floor like dandruff from a leper.

- Mommy tidies the area before the bus staff can get there (because she wouldn't want them to think her children are piglets).

- Children run to vehicle, clamber in, and immediately insist upon going there for lunch or dinner the next day.

We thought that (eventually) the children would grow tired of Chipotle (as we did so long ago). In a way, they have. They still want to go to Chipotle but now they insist we try new locations.

What Are Little Boys Made of?

Something that really interests me is what children really think about. Every night at dinner I try to get a little sense of that not only by asking them what they did during the day but who their friends are, why they like them, what their favorite and least favorite moments were, and so forth. But when there is food to be eaten, toys to play with, and a sundry shiny things to distract them, it's hard to have much of a conversation with children of this age. It winds up sounding more like an interrogation than a dialogue.

So instead I try to take clues by observing what it is that they value (beyond the toys and books they prefer). What are some of the stand-out items that rank as their own little treasures?

Each boy has his own collection of treasures in the same relative location: on the dresser surface in their room. While individual items may change from time to time, in general the type of items remains pretty static unless an external force (generally parental-enforced clean-up) exerts influence.

For Helios, our older son, this is his current inventory of treasures:

• An elephant humidifier (granted, this would be here whether he wanted it or not but he really likes it)
• A box of tissue (ditto)
• A book night-light (encased in a black zippered sleeve, upper left) that looks just like Mommy's and often is snuck under the covers
• A Nemo flashlight to scare away the monsters and create hand shadow puppets
• A white paper sack that was colored to look like a puppet; its name is Poppers 2 (Poppers 1 having been worn tissue thin)
• A plastic iron-melt airplane made at after care
• His harmonica, a gift from his paternal grandmother and grandfather just before a 10-hour flight across the country (yup, what you're thinking is exactly what we thought too)
• A token for the Loof Carousel in Spokane, WA
• A children's booklet of prayers, gift from school
• A Junie B. Jones, First Grader book (his favorite series right now)
• A Tigger wrist slap bracelet and purple airplane, both gifts from Aunt Elspeth
• A "bug's eye" loop from after school 'Mad Science' class
• A monkey head toy (how to describe this?) gifted from Uncle Thog
• A Zhu Zhu pet, train, camera, and magnifying glass from Grandma Jane and Grandpa Mel
• A Mickey Mouse playing soccer puzzle and Tic Tac Toe game, gifts from the Easter Bunny
• Shrinky-dinks, products of a project with Daddy
• Winnie the Pooh toys, harvested from Mommy's chest of treasures
• A Valentine's fuzzy head sticker with heart antennae received from a kid he likes at school
• An oyster shell given through the fence by the girl next door

Although with many similarities, Hesperos has his own array of treasures including:

• A penguin humidifier and tissue box
• Elmo slippers (Christmas gift from Santa two holidays ago and still fun to wear)
• Half of a Christmas ornament that plays "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" to put him to sleep
• His trophy from his first basketball season at the YMCA this year
• A Thomas the Tank engine watch
• The two current favorite books that he's working on memorizing: "Watch Out Mr. Rabbit!" and "Dr. Seuss's ABC"
• His "explorer" hat
• A thin version of Beatrix Potter's Peter Rabbit, retained from his Easter chocolate bunny
• A flashlight to scare the monsters away
• Various cars from Pixar's "Cars"
• A Zhu Zhu pet and its car, gifted from Grandma Jane
• A Winnie the Pooh slap it bracelet from Aunt Elspeth
• Pieces of a game received from the Easter Bunny
• Parts to a Lego construction vehicle, presumably stolen from his brother's closet and thus far unnoticed
• A pine cone (behind Elmo) from a recent preschool field trip

Though the selection may change somewhat as new treasures are acquired and old ones retired, each one is appreciated separately with a story behind it...and always noticed if repositioned without prior consent.

Helios' Resolution

As may be recalled in an earlier post (see "Believe It or Not, They Really Do Listen (Sometimes)..."), Helios declared that he planned to eschew all cow dairy products. After a few weeks of resolve that wavered just a bit, particularly once he was informed that cheese is a cow product...as is ice cream...as is whipped cream. However, he remains fairly firm in the "no cow milk" area, preferring rice milk whenever possible. He is also very receptive to vegan cheeses, sorbet instead of ice cream, or non-milk based desserts providing he doesn't have to delay consumption of dessert for a vegan alternative to be made available. (Patience is not one of Helios' strong suits.)

In Helios' backpack daily are the products of his hard work at kindergarten. In tonight's delivery was this little gem, conceived, authored, and illustrated, by Helios himself. This is from the last couple weeks from when during the religion session, the teacher facilitated a discussion of what it means to be resolved to doing something. The result is not only Helios' declaration but also an illustration of a smiling, red-stick figure with a disturbingly long torso, short legs, and pronged hands ignoring the cow milk (X'd out at left) and reaching for the "ris" milk at right. The text reads: "My resolution is not to drek [drink] cow milk so I can help the cows."

We will entertain any offers by Chik Fil-a to purchase this drawing for their "leave cows alone, eat chickens instead" advertising in exchange for paying for Helios' college tuition.