Grow Up and Blow Away

Last weekend we had a birthday party for Logan and a few of his friends from school. Enough about that.

For the party, I blew up a bunch of balloons. They pretty much migrated into the boys' room that night and have been there ever since. Tonight, while attempting to get the boys to clean said room, they got into some sort of fight over the balloons. I decided it had been long enough and it was time to de-balloon the house. I told them each to pick one balloon to keep and bring me the rest. As I was putting them on the counter, Logan asked me what I was going to do with them. I said, jokingly, that they were going to a balloon farm in the country to run and play with other balloons. Not for a second did I think the boys would believe that. I was very, very wrong.

Crying.

I remember there was crying.

Logan walked back to his room to cry in privacy. Declan just planted his feet next to the kitchen counter and started sobbing. His face was red, tears were streaming. At this point I felt a strange mixture of emotions: relief that I didn't tell them the balloon truth; bemused at their strange attachment to a bunch of balloons - they aren't even helium!; confounded at how to stop the crying.

Logan was worried the balloons wouldn't be safe getting to the balloon farm. I assured them they would be fine since they were all traveling together in a big group.

Declan wanted to know why they had to go to a farm and not live here with us. I said that's what happens when balloons grow up. They go to the balloon farm and meet other balloons from other birthday parties and they play and tell each other about the parties they came from.

I said they would have a happy life. Logan cried some more. He wailed at me, "Why do they get to go be so happy while we're here being so sad?!"

There's a song that we listen to sometimes in the car called "Grow Up and Blow Away" - I told the boys that song was about balloons going to the balloon farm.

As all these balloon farm tales were coming out of my mouth, I marvelled at the fact that the kids were believing every single word.

Finally, finally, the boys calmed down.

We will not speak of the balloons again.

Thankfully I didn't get caught with a pair of scissors at a balloon's neck. Thankfully Chris didn't get caught popping a balloon. We're crossing our fingers that the kids don't find any balloon pieces in the trash.

Conversations

Every week at some point, Grandpa Tiny goes to the store to pick up some fresh fruit that he feels we need around the house. When he comes home, he usually goes on a bit of a rambling, mild rant about the way prices have changed since the Depression Era. It's really become a highlight of my week. I love to hear him talk about the way things were and his "When I was your age" moments. A few days ago, he somehow got on the subject of how things have changed in the media over the decades. He told me that way back when, if something happened in the world, people wouldn't hear about it for several days. And then he went on to say, "The way it is now, if someone farts in Moscow you can hear about it right away if you want to." Ah, the words of a wise man.
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Recently at one of our Sunday dinners, we got on the subject of fish. Declan informed us that the only type of fish he likes is the kind that's shaped like a spacebar. I couldn't figure out what in the world he meant. Thankfully, Aunt Andrea was around to translate that into fish sticks for me. Talk about a generation gap - when I was your age, I didn't know what a spacebar was.
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Declan told me today that when he grows up, he plans on living in my house. I asked what kind of job he was going to have. "I don't think I'll have one." I asked how he planned on getting money. "Okay, I guess I'll have a job." I asked if he was going to have a wife. "Ummmm....I don't know!" Fair enough. I asked if he was going to have kids. At this point I think he got a little exasperated with me, because he sighed and said in a bit of a duh tone, "All grown-ups have kids, Mommy. And you know what? There are these balls inside my weiner and those are my kids." Then he left the kitchen, probably to avoid more questions. I think he's got a fairly age-appropriate understanding of sex education, so I'll let that particular conversation go.

Happy Birthday, Logan!

Ok, I know I'm several days late on this. It's been months since I posted anything here and I have a million excuses for that. Just ask me. I can whip out a list like nobody's business.

Logan turned 7 last Friday (the 1st of October, for the lazy). If you ask him how he feels, he'll tell you something like, "Not that much different than being 6." He'll probably shrug a little, too.

I've tried to keep up a few birthday traditions with the boys. One is that when we celebrate the birthday as a family, everyone goes around the table and says what they love about that person. (I guess Andrea is a little worn on the tradition because she seemed to think we just did this. Though in my defense, the last time was in May for Declan.) The other is that I put up a post in the blog about the birthday child. Yes, I like my sappy stuff. But the ultimate goal is to be able to go back through this when the kids are grown-er and see what sorts of things have changed about them and what things have stayed as core parts of who they are.

Anyway, on to the show:

Logan has been doing wonderfully in the first grade. He hasn't had any trouble with his reading or spelling or math concepts. He also has a lot of friends - pretty much everyone he talks to he considers his friend. Last weekend he met a new friend who told Logan he was his new best friend. Logan responded to this boy that he was Logan's 31st best friend. The reasoning is that Logan likes all his friends equally and doesn't want to put any one above another. It sounds reasonable from that perspective, but hearing you're 31st in line of best-friendship isn't as pleasant.

Over the summer before the boys left for their trip to Rhode Island, Logan and a couple friends discovered talking on the phone together. Over the nearly 6-weeks of summer that they were gone, this particular art of friendship was lost. However, it's recently been recovered and many days Logan comes home from school just to get on the phone with a friend. He then takes it outside (for privacy?) and they go about planning their upcoming school breaks together. Well, that's what I hear about anyway. It's so very teenage girly and since when do kids talk on the phone like that in first grade? Am I that out of touch? Don't answer that.

Logan is still accepting of affection without being eager to give it back. He seems to understand that people like hugs and it's important to some people to give and receive them. So he'll let you hug him. And he'll patiently wait until you get it out and then move on. Sometimes Grandma Sue hugs him and won't let go for several minutes, and Logan very sweetly waits until she's ready to release him. I love that about him. He likes being *near* people, just not necessarily within touching distance. In this way, he's so very Opposite Declan.

Logan's sense of humor has been developing along the lines of his Dad and Grandpa (and maybe some parts of his Mom). He is starting to get a dry, sarcastic flavor to his jokes and quips. Again, I think he's too young for that stuff, but it pops up here and there. I'm still quite surprised by it when I hear it. However, he is still subject to 7-year-old boy humor - farts, poops, really dumb jokes, etc. He and Declan can laugh until they puke when they get talking about those kinds of things.

I love this kid. I love that he's such a good friend. I love that he's fun and kind and compassionate. He loves giving presents as much as he loves getting them. He regularly tells us that he loves whatever has been made for dinner. Most of the time he's willing to try any new food and lately has been developing a bit of a taste for hot and spicy stuff. He's your basic healthy and happy boy and I'm so lucky he's mine.