Meet Timmy

Spencer gets a little shy when I tell a story about something that he has done or said. I always ask his permission first. He usually says no. I do not blame him for not wanting the attention focused on him. However, he is sweet and funny and charming and I like to share these stories with family and friends. We have compromised. Instead of telling stories about Spencer, I tell stories about (the nonexistent) Timmy. I'm guessing this ruse will not last very long. Timmy is way too clever for that.

Do You Need to See My ID?

One of the remarkable qualities of children is their capacity for enthusiasm/wonderment/awe over things that no longer spark such reactions (at least in such force) in the rest of us. This may arise, at least in part, from their (somewhat) limited life experience. Recently, the boys' limited life experience and their capacity for enthusiasm, etc. came together in a very nice way for me. A couple of days ago I drew several pictures of the boys. One might ask why I was drawing at all given the fact that I have no particular talent for drawing. Perhaps the reason is that I stubbornly refuse to accept that for the whole of my life I will not be able to draw (or sing, but that is another story), so I pick it up from time to time to check whether I have somehow acquired these illusive skills. I have not. Nevertheless, I showed the pictures to the boys. Both boys were very impressed. Really. Spencer is even willing to pay me a token for one of the pictures. And Michael exclaimed with much admiration, "You are going to be a famous artist when you grow up." That made me feel good.

A Token for Your Thoughts

A few weeks ago, Spencer asked if I wanted him to brush my hair. Umm. Sure. He got out a comb, a round brush, a regular brush and a big flat-backed brush. He did not grab the big rock which he has used in the past to "brush" my hair. When he finished with my hair, he asked if I'd like a back rub OR a massage. Please note that he intended this as an either/or question. This puzzled me as I didn't know there were important distinctions between the two. It turns out, according to Spencer, that a back rub is quick, light rubbing of the back, lasting for about 30 seconds. A massage consists of hitting or kicking the back. The massage was (surprisingly?) more relaxing than the back rub. When Spencer finished he asked me if that was worth one or two tokens. What? Tokens? This was the first I'd heard of tokens and I honestly didn't know what he wanted. I doubted that he was looking for a subway token. We don't have a subway here. It also seemed unlikely that he was looking for me to give him a heartfelt "thank you" as a token of my appreciation. Maybe he wanted money? Hmm. So many questions spinning through my head and Spencer was looking to me for an answer to his question. I did not know what he meant by "token," nor did I know why he thought he was entitled to one (possibly two) for doing something he had done in the past for free. Also, it was unclear whether I should have had an opportunity, pre-hairbrushing/backrub/massage, knowing the cost, perhaps, to decline one or more. All of these questions were running through my head. In retrospect, I think it would have been very natural to have asked Spencer any one (or all) of these questions. Instead, I responded, simply, "two." Admittedly this was an error on my part. Possibly even foolish. Now both boys are regularing performing various tasks in order to earn tokens. Perhaps this sounds reasonable. But I find it, well, not reasonable. I do not like that their acts of kindness are tied to payment. It has thrown things out of balance. I tried bringing it around last night. Both boys claim I owe them each three tokens. What about dinner I asked. That's one token right there. How about a hug? Two tokens. Tucking into bed? Another token. They thought that was soooo funny. Laughing, they chided me, "That isn't how it works."

Pictures

Of a sudden, Spencer is interested in taking pictures. I will post more as he takes them. He would like a digital camera for Easter. He won't get it, but maybe for his birthday.

Sewing

Michael learned to sew in his after-school childcare. He made a beanbag. Spencer was intrigued. And rightly so. It is impressive to make something. So, I pulled out some fabric and some dried lentils and needle and thread and both boys made beanbags. Hand-sewn. Intoxicated by our success, I pulled out fleece and cotton stuffing stuff, and the boys each made a small soft pillow. Lovely. At this point, they informed me that they were going to start a sewing business. Our good friend Collin heard of this, and very thoughtfully bought the boys a compact sewing machine (inexplicably called "The Shark") for Christmas. The boys brought the sewing machine with them on their visit to Grandma and Grandpa. During that trip they made pillows. With pillowcases (with edging on the pillowcases). I have since purchased more fabric and I am excited to see what they make next.