Proprioception Problems

Driving home from dinner, E says to me "You're going the wrong way, Mom!" I replied, "No, babe, this is how we get home." E concedes: "Ok, I guess, but we don't usually come this way." Gently, I correct: "Well, this is how we go home most of the time..." After a moment, E: "Yeah, but we're not usually upside-down when we come this way." I had nothing for that...

Storytelling

This evening, my son eagerly repeated a story that his Poppa had told him a few nights ago before bedtime...a story that Daddy used to tell me before my bedtime. It brought a tear to my cynical eye.

My dad is a great storyteller. His stories always involve me and my siblings (and now E) and our various pets, and he makes up ridiculous names for us ("E the Wonder Boy", "Lucky Bucky", "Pepper Wepper", "Smokey Lokey", etc.). We take on fantastic powers and undergo the most involved adventures, always after saying goodbye to "Mama Llama" at the house. The stories are dynamic and fluid, changing at a moment's notice or a small child's request ("I wanna fight the bear this time!"). The heroes always save a family member or friend from a horrifying threat (lions and tigers and bears, oh my!!) while remaining calm, collected, and heroic throughout. Everything always turns out well, and in the end, Mama's always waiting for us at home.

I think everyone should tell their kids stories. I remember my dad's stories better than the multitude of books that my parents read me during my childhood. Stories like his stimulate imagination and encourage creativity. We were always encouraged to help our hero selves find ways out of their predicaments. I can't even look back at my childhood without hearing my dad's voice mischievously spinning out nighttime adventures for me and my siblings.

So I'm a huge proponent of storytelling. I just wish I were better at it. I think I'll go practice...

Sweetness

Starting Christmas Day, E spent a week with his father's family. I picked him with his other grandparents on New Year's Day. He climbed out of the car with his grumpy "I just woke up, and I hate everyone" look on his face. But one look around, and he ran toward me, yelling "Mommy, I missed you! I missed you so much!"

And at that moment, the whole missing-piece week was worth it.