Arthur came over to stay with us the week after Thanksgiving his parents attended an awards dinner, and Liam dashed around the house with him showing him things. My favourite was, “These are my baby fish! They love me!” And I happened to be in the kitchen at the time so I peeked in… and saw Liam standing on his crafts table with the aquarium cover flipped up and his hands in the water, saying, “I will pet them!” That was scotched in a hurry.
Have I ever mentioned that he sleeps with BunBun over his head? He does. Still. It’s odd. And he loves homemade alphabet soup. I’ve probably mentioned that before as well. In an effort to slow the mass consumerism that the paper inserts from the Thomas train packages are inducing, we have explained to him over and over that we can’t just go out and buy toys if he decides he wants them. There is a finite amount of money, and the toy budget is not huge. If he decides he wants something, he must save up his money and buy it himself. Now he pores over these papers and says, “I am going to save my money and buy [insert train here]. Then I will save up my money and buy [insert next train here].”
Words being used this month that are newish include transporter (as in a vehicle that moves things, not a Star Trek particle disassembler/reassembler), ricochet, and delightful. He got a little MegaBloks car in his Halloween gift bag from preschool and HRH said, “Hey, cool, it’s an ambulance!” “No, Dada,” the boy said patiently, “it’s an emergency vehicle.” Shows what we know. The other day he suggested something and added, “because that would be delightful.” One day after being with the caregiver he said, “I want a sister.” “A baby sister? Like Tallis or Ainsley?” I said. “No, a big sister!” he said. “Like Grace!” (Er. That might be difficult.)
The Incredibles has again become his current favourite movie (thank goodness, as we were getting very sick of Thomas and the Great Discovery) because HRH made himself an Incredibles shirt to wear for Halloween. So Liam demanded that we bring out the too-small Incredibles shirt I made him for last year’s Dash costume, which we will allow him to wear as a sleepshirt only, and now he and HRH wear their shirts together and pretend they are superheroes. Which is just fine.
Starting about a week and a half ago we began curling up in our big bed to read a chapter of the Winnie the Pooh books every night. We finished the first book in a week (okay, I snuck an extra chapter in some nights because I like the snuggling). He loves to pore over the map of the Hundred Acre Wood and trace paths between everyone’s houses. I’m not sure what we’ll do when the second book is finished. I think we’ll try A Bear Called Paddington, and maybe once that’s done we can try The Wind In The Willows again. I’m so thrilled that he’s finally old enough to sit still for chapter books. He’s getting better and better at making up stories. He needs to work on climax and denouement, though. At the moment what happens is the story clips along and then suddenly stops. We know this because he will say, “Blah blah blah, the end. Was that a good story?”
The other day he turned to me and said, “Mama, I think I need my cello.” This was the first time he’d asked of his own accord and not been watching something that he wanted to play along with, or had agreed to a suggestion made by me. As a result he wasn’t super bouncy, which was a good thing. I got the viola out for him and he carried the case into the living room, set himself up, held the bow in approximately the right place and said “I’m going to sing.” “You’re giving us a concert?” I said. “Yes! A concert!” he said, and started singing the Rainbow Connection. He finished and lifted the bow (the way I do, I assume) and looked up at us, and we clapped. Then I was directed to go get my cello so we could do it together and give a concert for HRH. And we did it again the next day. It was terrific. I’d love to have a regular music time every week.
The other evening we were at a gas station that had a Tim Horton’s in it. HRH was putting gas in the car when Liam said, “Mama, roll down my window; I have to say something to Dada.” So I reached back and rolled the window down. HRH leaned over and looked in. “Hi, pal,” he said. “What can I do for you?” Liam leaned toward him very seriously and said clearly, as if he were ordering at a drive-through window, “I would like a medium iced cappuccino, please. And one for Mama, too.” I began laughing hysterically. HRH shot me a Look. “I didn’t put him up to this, I swear,” I gasped. It could have been worse. He could have ordered a double-double.
Other Liam posts this past month:
– practising for Hallowe’en: “I say ‘trick or treat!” and they give me… good luck.”
– Sparky upholds voters’ rights
– the parent-teacher interview: “My son has minions!”
– memo to the weather gods: please do not indulge the small child
I’ve dropped the boy off, gone to the bank (as usual, misjudging the amount I needed to withdraw so I have to go back again), done groceries, picked up ribbon, picked up dark transfer paper for HRH’s t-shirt, had brunch, and have just returned from a drive to Ahuntsic. That was certainly an adventure. Why GoogleMaps didn’t just tell me to go up the 15 to Henri-Bourassa, the street I needed to be on, I do not know. Instead I went all over the place in crazy circles and turns to get to L’Acadie. (Turns out there’s an exit for L’Acadie on the 15 too. Good grief.) Also, the Met is one of my least favourite highways to travel.
… is running precisely in schedule. (Now that I’ve said that, of course, life as we know it will collapse.)
Today is a beautiful, sunny, crisp fall day, and I had my first private cello lesson in ten years.
As much as I would love this to be detailed, point form is the only way I’m going to be able to record it and still have time for, you know, breathing.
Yesterday, not long after I wrote my journal entry about practising, my Internet connection went kablooey and I spent the next couple of hours unsuccessfully trying to fix it. I ended up turning the damn thing off and going to work in the living room. It gave me writing time, but I had tons of Internet-associated research to handle and correspondence to catch up on, and it made me very cranky. Also, I lost an expanded ETA form of that last post in which I rhapsodized about a particular shift that I love doing in one of my lesson pieces. And the post didn’t actually post thanks to the kablooeyness, I discovered this morning. Gnarr.
Orchestrated:
Can’t title this an exclusive Orchestrated update because ye gods, I was productive today on not one but two projects. I scare me sometimes.
Harpsichord Dreams: