A Man for All Seasons

Looking for worms and bugs

When Karsten comes to my house, he likes to look for worms and bugs in the garden, kick the soccer ball and draw reptiles on the stones with sidewalk chalk. His interests reveal such a well-rounded young man: scientific, athletic, artistic.  Plus, he’s sweet and handsome.

Kicking the soccer ball

Exploring for wildlife under rocks

Admiring his sidewalk chalk reptiles.

The Ancient Indian

This is the story of a boy, a bear, a four hundred year old Indian, and a big imagination. Like all stories that are partly fairy tales, this one begins………

Once upon a time, there was a little boy who lived at the foot of a hill with a teddy bear he loved, but who had no name. Somewhere along the way Teddy bear had been involved in a terrible incident involving a dog that ate his nose and leg and decapitated him. The little boy’s mother sewed his head back on and gave him a shiny new red button nose. She could work no magic on the leg, nor did she give teddy bear a name, but teddy bear was brave and kept on smiling. 

Every day before the little boy went out to play he would put on his cape and holster, and take some carrots out of the refrigerator to put in the holes he would dig to catch rabbits. Then he would go up the hill to talk to Thunder Lizard, the four hundred year old Indian who lived there. Thunder Lizard was very wise and taught the little boy the things that he knew. His family asked him every night at dinner what the old Indian had to say, and the little boy would tell them about the conversation they had on that day. And so the days and seasons passed, setting rabbit traps and visiting the ancient Indian on the hill.

Teddy reveals his injury.

The little boy and his friend. Where the rabbit came from, I could not say. Better ask Thunder Lizard.

The little boy’s grandfather lived a long way away, but he knew about the little boy’s visits to the old Indian. He loved hearing this story. One day a  present came from the grandfather to the little boy. It was a blue tee shirt just the little boy’s size. “Thunder Lizard” was written on the front of it. The little boy’s family thought this was a wonderful present, but the little boy wasn’t excited, and didn’t smile very much.

The little boy didn’t talk about Thunder Lizard after that, and one evening at the dinner table his family asked him what had happened to the old Indian. The little boy stopped eating and sat quietly for a long time before he said, “I have something to tell you.” More silence. “There isn’t really a four hundred year old Indian. Thunder Lizard isn’t real. Please don’t tell Grandpa.” 

Fun little play acting had become a lie that was getting bigger than he could handle. Not only did his family believe Thunder Lizard was up there on the hill, but now his grandfather believed it, too, and here was this shirt! He didn’t want to live this lie any longer, and he thought he was probably going to be in trouble for making up stories.

The little boy didn’t know it, but his family was in a worse spot than he was. How could they tell him they had led him on? That they knew there was no Thunder Lizard? That his grandfather knew this, too? That they had involved themselves too much in imaginative play? No one remembers how the conversation went, but the story has a happy ending. Teddy bear now wears the tee shirt and sits on a shelf in the little boy’s bedroom. He has a name, the shirt hides his missing leg, and he is still smiling.

Teddy Bear acquires a name.

The little boy isn’t little anymore.  He has a little boy of his own with a big imagination.

Three Men and a Baby

Moths to the Flame

They can’t leave her alone, these older men in Celeste’s life!

” Boys, I’m moving Celeste to a quiet room where she can sleep.  Please keep your noise in the den and not around her,” I said. The words were still flowing from my mouth as they followed me and the baby carrier into the dining room and set up their game at her feet. Adult words ignored by children, that’s what it really means to inherit the wind!

She’s just so darn cute!

My turn. No, mine.

William and Walker stand in eager silence as a bottle comes in view, ready to fight for the prize of feeding her first, in case their name is not the one called out to sit beside the pillow ready to prop her head and hold the bottle for her. Karsten is sure the solution to every cry is to run for a pacifier to put in her mouth (a case of do unto others, for sure).  One day the pacifier was nowhere in sight, but he knew something, anything, must be found! Inexplicably, he ran to his mother with a can of whole kernel corn from the pantry.

William is the most attentive, which isn’t surprising. He’s older, and he has always been a helper and a protector around children smaller than himself. I watched him the other day as he tried everything he knew to stop her fussing: pacifier, blanket tucking, head rubbing, hand patting, gentle shushing, calls to bring a bottle.  When, in spite of his efforts, she finally began crying inconsolably , William sat back with a resigned smile on his face, and announced, “There she blows!”

Lucky Celeste

Celeste already knows she is a lucky little girl.

Fortified

Children love to make forts out of the couch cushions.  I’ve always allowed it, because that’s what you should be able to do when you go to your grandmother’s house.  I found an old Far Side cartoon in a desk drawer the other day, however, which has caused me to re-think my encouragement of pillow fort building! 

Not everyone has the foresight to marry a woman as understanding as Harold’s!