Too Cool for School

Since Beckett started attending school, I've received many comments on what a "neat kid" he is (not picking up the toys from every bucket in the playroom that he's thrown on the floor "neat," but 80s middle school "neat.") His teacher has been impressed with his knowledge of letters, memory, matching skills, and his uncanny ability to connect animals to their primary food source while tracing a winding dotted line. (Apparently, this last skill was quite impressive and can take all school year to master. Yes, my son is a genius at tracing and feeding hungry animals their proper diet). She's often impressed with the connections he makes and astute observations. But he's not just intellectual. Oh, no, Beckett apparently is quite nurturing and empathic. Just ask the little Italian boy in his class who speaks very little English and was so distraught over his mother's leaving him at school that he cried almost the entire 3 hours of class. Beckett was, reportedly, very helpful and assured him his mother would indeed return, and, in the meantime, he could play with Thomas the Tank Engine. And then, there's his conversation skills. The mere fact that he never stops talking means that at some point he will say something truly remarkable. The director says, "we just love having Beckett here," and has remarked on how self-sufficient he is. Now, I acknowledge, she might say that to every parent. But I have to think I was singled out simply because of Beckett's awesomeness.

Is it possible to get an inflated ego because of your offspring? Maybe. But just as you start to pride yourself on wonderful parenting skills and remarkable genes, you watch your son painstakingly attempt to hang his lunch box from his penis, trying again each time it falls (the lunch box, not the penis) crashing to the floor. When you ask him, "Why? Why are you doing that?" he responds both emphatically and casually, "Because my penis is a good hanger." Well there you have it. He is a genius!

The Sounds of Silence

Today was Beckett's first day of preschool. He had been talking about it since Tuesday, when he visited the school for the first time and met his teacher and classmates. He had fun, and it left an impression on him, and he couldn't wait to go back. He actually woke up early today, eager to make his bed, eat breakfast, brush his teeth, and get dressed. We could be on to something here!

He managed to sneak my camera into his bag and snapped photos all the way to preschool. I'll be sure to post some soon.

I dropped him off without incident. He quickly found Thomas the train to play with, so he didn't need me anymore. He told me he'd see me later.

When Kyler and I got home, I decided I'd use the time to clean the kitchen and family room, which somehow looked like the storms from Gustav actually had hit Dallas like the weather reports (incorrectly) predicted. I gave Kyler some toys that he never gets to play with (mostly cars and trucks that Beckett keeps to himself) and went to work. Kyler bored with the toys quickly and chose, rather, to run laps through the kitchen, dining/living room and family room. So, about every minute and a half I'd see him waddle by muttering "ball" or "mama." And then, I realized, that was the only sound in the house. I stopped for a second to relish the quiet. Kyler, who talks a lot for 15 mos., isn't really a loud child. I never knew this! I know Beckett makes a lot of noise, but I never understood how much he contributes to the air waves until today. And it's not just talking, though he talks A LOT. It's noise. . . running footsteps, hands slapping, cars racing and crashing. Just lots of noise.

About a month ago, some friends stayed the night with their 3 yr. old daughter. She (the mom, not the daughter) remarked on how much energy Beckett has (which, by default, contributes to his noisiness). I remember thinking to myself, "really? don't all 3 yr. olds run and jump endlessly around the house?" I remember back to our playgroup in WI, and Beckett seemed to have no more or less energy than the other boys so, despite the trappings of my sociological background, maybe it's a boy thing. Nevertheless, I discovered today energy does not equal mc-squared (okay, i can't figure out how to type exponents!), it equals NOISE.

When I picked Beckett up from preschool, his teacher commented that he did "very well." She also said he's "very gregarious" and talked "the entire 3 hours!" She said "he just had a lot to say." Like his Mama, Beckett talks non-stop. Only, I'm not so sure I fully understood what that meant until I didn't have it. Funny thing is, I missed our conversations, even if they are about flat tires and broken headlights. They say "silence is golden," which, quite honestly, I never have understood. There's just too much to learn from noise. (To be clear, I didn't miss the screams that come from not getting his way. I'm not that sentimental! Or crazy!).

Next Tueday, his class is taking a field trip to the library. Please, oh please, let him learn to whisper!