Beastie wakes up at 6 almost every morning, if not before. He runs across the house and comes into the bedroom and gets right into my face.
"Is it wake-up time, Momma?"
No, I say, and tell him he can either go back to bed or get in and snuggle with me. He nearly always picks snuggling. Some days, he skips the first question and gets right to the point: "Can I snuggle with you, Momma?"
That's what he did the other morning and then, amazingly enough, he actually snuggled. Normally, he flails and kicks and pokes me in the eye and sings and tells story. But this morning, he scooted his little body right against mine and nuzzled his head under my chin. I thought he was asleep, so I was surprised when I felt him lift his head up and press it close against mine.
"Momma," he whispered, "I love you."
And this is why this headstrong, crazy child has not been sold to gypsies yet despite his best attempts.
The Boy is officially in pre-kindergarten. They call it VPK down here (voluntary pre-kindergarten) and he had worked up VPK to be the next thing to heaven in his mind. He would get to play on the big-kid playground. He would get to eat in the cafeteria. He would be LEARNING all the time, and let me tell you, those caps are all his.
Well, they moved the classes up a couple weeks ago, though the first day of school wasn't until Monday. I love our daycare/preschool very much, but they seem to be a little distracted this year. They're rebuilding a playground area, so that might have something to do with it, but communication was lacking. I didn't know what was going on, so I didn't warn The Boy that classes wouldn't start immediately. The second day after the move-up, The Boy's disappointment was palpable. When I asked him how his day was he heaved a huge sigh.
"OK -- but we're not LEARNING anything. We're just playing all day," he said, huffing.
After his first day of "real classes," this was his response: "Yeah, it's good. But we're just learning how the classroom works this week. We won't do REAL LEARNING until next month."
This same child has determined he is too old to be read to. He'd rather LEARN on his own. He retreats to his bunk bed with his LEARNING supplies: a journal, a magazine, a pencil and a couple books. My heart broke a little. I've brokered a deal that allows me to read him one book a night.
The Boy also is officially enrolled in teeball. I don't know who's more excited: him or my husband.
Meanwhile, The Lad is trying to determine if he wants to give up diapers. His new teacher is the potty whisperer who helped us train The Boy. I'm hoping she'll have similar success with Beastie, because I certainly have no idea what I'm doing.