Not Much Going On

Simon and I just finished our half-term break (appropriately called "Winter Break") and are now starting the last half of the semester. The week went by very quickly and neither of us got anything done that needed doing, so now we are further behind than ever, more exhausted than ever, and heading into the absolute worst part of the academic year. On the up side, in seven weeks we will be done working for many months and thinking of that will help get us through the days. Or so we tell ourselves.

Neither Thomas nor Frederick, on the other hand, are in any way bothered by the endless Winter weather. Thomas and I made another pass through his room this weekend, this time concentrating on his closet, and filled up six heavy-duty garbage bags of things to drop off at Good Will. I wouldn't have thought that much stuff could fit into such a small closet. Now all we have left to deal with are the 10s of thousands of Lego on his floor. I wouldn't be bothered except that walking across the room to put his laundry away causes excruciating pain. Simon's solution: "Just throw the clothes in the room and slam the door.") And why is it always the very pokiest lego bits that manage to grind their way into the very center of your heel? Frederick has decided that communicating with pencil (Ferby colored pencils, purchased in England years ago for a ridiculous price from W.H. Smith's) and paper suits him very nicely. We have stocked up on massive rolls of Kraft paper and every day we cover the diningroom table with it. Throughout the day, Frederick draws or writes out the various ideas he has. This morning, while Thomas slumped over his plate and struggled to stuff banana pancakes into his mouth (Thomas is NOT a morning person--I wonder who he gets that from?*), Frederick perkily flitted about the table, sketching out our solar system, all the while singing the Blue's Clues planet song. (Which he hasn't seen in several years, so where he stored that nugget away in that giant brain of his is anyone's guess.) My favorite line, "Mahs is the whed whun." Frederick's pronunciation, though improving at astonishing rates--he has completely mastered the "yeh" noise of "yellow" which was really difficult for him and he proundly shouts, "Yellow baBEE!!" when given half a chance--is still sometimes a bit off. He sounds not unlike those creepy Charlie Chan tv shows on in the 60s ("Ah so, Number Won Son, you fink you so clevuh, ah?") as when he reads, "Just humming, softly in the night" (a line from Miss Spider's Car") but it sounds like "Juss ah hummEENG, soffilee, een dah nigh."

*Two notable exceptions: Christmas morning, as mentioned in an earlier post, and yesterday, Sunday morning, when Thomas was to have a playdate with a former classmate, Sofi. Sofi wasn't due to arrive until 11, yet Thomas sprung out of bed, had eaten and was fully dressed by 8. He then spent much of the next three hours staring out the living room window, waiting for her arrival. As he was climbing into bed last night, I asked if the playdate was all that he had hoped it to be. He said, "Oh, yes! Sofi is the perfect friend. We never argue. We fit together like two puzzle pieces...I'm so glad I met Sofi!"