A few stories about the boys:
We were leaving basketball practice after a scrimmage and Seth asked me "Daddy, did I shoot too much?" I assured him that he had done a good mix of shooting and passing, which was true. "Good," he said, "because I don't want to be a ball hog." Music to my ears.
We were in the car and Seth asked me if I had ever saved money to buy something that I really wanted. I thought about it and said that I had saved money to buy our house. He said "OK, then that's what I'm going to save my money for - a house." I assured him that he didn't need to worry about buying a house for a long time.
Somewhere (not from me!) Miles has picked up the F-word. Grace, Seth, Miles, and I were in the car and Miles was singing songs. We would give him a word, such as "trucks," and he would improvise a song around it. It was very sweet. But he would intersperse his sweet songs with strings of F-bombs that would make a sailor blush. "Hello F***-o! F***-y F***! F***-ety F***!" Seth was cracking up and Grace and I were trying desperately not to laugh.
Sorry, Nora and I taught Miles that ;-)
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When Henry was 3 1/2 his Waldorf daycare had him walk solo in the annual 'advent walk'. Its a beautiful and solemn mid-winter night and each child carries a candle to the flame in the center of a spiral of fir bows, lights the candle and walks back out to place the lit candle. There's only the light of the candles and the strumming of a harp. No words are spoken at all. Henry followed the lead of the oldest child, and did it so carefully and confidently (and didn't burn the place down). On the drive home I was crying softly and he wondered why. I stumbled to explain how happy I was. Appreciating the curious situation he affirmed my mood with a drawn out and resonant "sheeeeeit", like he just learned the line from Samuel Jackson. Next he was wondering why I was laughing so hard.
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