Elliot's dragon - Part I

I am not crafty. I do not create cute little home made presents for Christmas or decorate picture frames. Scrapbooking gives me nightmares. I will never own pinking shears. I'm not even sure what those are.

BUT, I love Elliot Gordon. And in 8 days he will be attending the Royal Ball at his school. He is going as a dragon. At least, that's what he's hoping.

This afternoon was not pretty as a clueless mama walked around Walmart and Michael's, called stores looking for green sweat suits and finally dug through three dumpsters looking for large pieces of cardboard. SUCCESS!! As you see in the picture, the Office Max dumpster delivered. The supplies are in. Step II - Cutting.

Bug

Drama. That's what Bug is about lately. She is seriously either laughing or screaming; there's not a lot in between. What continues to surprise me about Bug is how amazingly articulate she is compared to where Elliot was at her age. Last night I heard her screaming about 4am. When I checked on her she said, 'mama, I get in bed with you.' I told her no, she would sleep in her bed. Then she told me, 'I scared in my bed. No monsters?'

She's 2 1/2. I realize that many other little people her age could probably convey this to me. But after having Elliot first, this still impresses me. I assured her there are no monsters and prayed for her. With the room cleansed of monsters, she went back to sleep.

Thinking it through

So I ordered Elliot his first biography from one of those Scholastic Book order forms. I remember loving those order forms as a kid. New books just seemed almost as good as candy.

Today his book came. A biography of Martin Luther King, Jr. After reading it and talking about it he asked me, 'mama, was that bad man who shot Marfin Lufer King white?'

Yes, he was, I answered. He thought for a minute, and obviously started worrying a bit about one of his black teachers. 'Mama, is that bad man going to shoot Miss Quiana?'

I assured him that the bad man was dead, and that no one would be shooting Miss Quiana. But as I read him the story, I kept trying to think about it from a 4 year old's perspective. How exactly do you explain to Elliot that other kids couldn't have played at the same playground, gone to the same school or eaten at the same restaurant?

What made me happy was that he wasn't as much concerned about the policy or the injustice of the past. He was just worried about someone he loved - Miss Quiana.

Just like his papa

Michael's mom has told me that she almost didn't make it through the "why" stage with Michael. I think I may be there. I was thinking last night about Elliot's future, about his love of trains, his endless questions, his appreciation of beauty, his incredibly sensitive little feelings. I just can't imagine what he's going to look like when he's 14, 23, 36.

It sort of feels like watching a flower open up. You can see hints of what it might look like - colors, shapes. But the full effect, well, you just have to wait for it. Right now I'm just happy he's 4 1/2, sleeping under a Thomas blanket, and 40 1/2 inches tall. I'm thankful that he hugs me EVERY time I ask, snuggles as long as I want, and is an interested conversationalist about almost anything. The days God enables me to be patient with him through his whining and whys, I see a sweet little boy who looks a whole lot like his papa. If this is the case, if he ends up anything like his dad having endured me as a mom, I'll be extremely thankful!

This is my favorite

Photography friends

So some friends of ours are professional photographers. They hired an assistant who needed some practice. Guess who got the benefit of a free shoot? Here is some of her work. It was fun. More later.

Guess who

likes my new underwear?