A while ago I discovered that the reason Ian starts counting backward from 60 at seemingly random times is that, when I say “just a minute,” he takes me literally and counts down the seconds.
The other day I said, “In about 6½ minutes.”
He asked, “How many seconds is that?”
He groans, “awww… frown emoticon” and then walks out mournfully counting down, “three hundred and ninety, three hundred and eighty nine, three hundred and eighty eight…”
He seemed more annoyed that he had to count down from 390 than that I needed to work for another 6½ minutes before I could come look at his Minecraft water world that makes Endermen do something twitchy (I don’t really understand what was going on with the Endermen and water).
Woke up this morning to Ian really wanting me to get out of bed. It was early, so I just ushered him into my bed and under the covers to buy myself some time.
He talked to himself a lot and scratched my back and played with my ears for a while, but got pretty fed up with my excuses for lying in bed while he was so awake.
Then I feel this little finger in my ear, digging and reminding me of those childhood warnings about cleaning your ears with Q-Tips. Next I feel him sticking his eye up to my ear, peeking in.
“I’m gonna look in your ear to see what you’re dreaming about.” He pushes his eyeball tightly up against my ear and rocks his head to the side as though he’s honestly looking for something, then pulls back a bit.
“Did you see what I’m dreaming about?” I asked.
“I didn’t see nuffing. Just all black. Daddy? Are you dreaming about sleeping?”
Did homework with Ian tonight. He lit up like a christmas tree. He’s so eager to learn and so imaginative that it almost seems like he’s been filling the intellectual void with his own, fast-paced curriculum.
All day long, every day, he asks these “what if” questions. The last one at the end of the day today was, “daddy, what if the whole universe was the size of me?” When we were buying socks in Victoria last weekend it was, “if everything in the world was made out of fabric, would it be houndstooth?” One time it was, “daddy, if we [all animals] were made out of metal, what would we eat?”
I feel like it’s a criminal disservice to him to shove this dynamic and differently paced little boy into a system that doesn’t really know how to accommodate him. I just wish I was far enough ahead of the game to know how to get him engaged in a way that could include fitting in at school without squeezing him into (or out of) somebody else’s definition of “amazing.”
Ian got in trouble again at school the other day. His mom emailed me about it and this was my response:
My heart sinks when I hear about him having such a hard time.
I do like the format of this report, though. And the thoughtful
comments are better than the usual.
At least I’m acclimating!
Ian was walking around his bedroom this morning holding a big, black spider halloween decoration – the kind with wiry legs so you can pose it or wrap it around something. He had one of its front legs in each hand and was singing, in a low, gravelly voice, “♪ If you happy and you know it cwap you hands! ♫” then clapping the spider’s “hands” together.
Welcome Malcolm’s little brother, Ian Shaw Johnston, to the world! Time of birth: 6:20 am, July 22, 2010.
Looks like it’s time to go on baby high alert.
Just got back from our 20 week ultrasound. We’re gonna be having another boy! Everything is perfectly healthy. Not a thing to worry about. Approximate due date: 7-30-2010. A week before malcolm’s birthday.
There’s no sense in hiding it anymore. Some know already and some don’t. Now I can update Facebook smile emoticon.