7th Inning Stretch

I cannot believe that Elijah turned SEVEN years old this past week. It has been an incredible journey, and we barely have left the dock. The party went off without a hitch, and everyone seemed to have a good time. The day of the party, there were three occasions when a meltdown by the little guy could have occurred, but I am happy to report he never even frowned.

Early in the day I picked up the cake and it had chocolate frosting, not vanilla, as the birthday boy had requested. When I showed him the cake, the frosting was not nearly as important as the musical notes he had requested on the icing. Frosting color debacle avoided!

Crisis number two involved the guests just showing up. In past years, the arrival of lots of kids asking for him would have driven Elijah inside the house as he insisted, "I want them to go." This year he watched, approached and actually had eye contact with some of the partygoers (admittedly most of those he interacted with were adults, but it was a start.)

The final and I thought the most likely chance for a cataclysmic disaster was when, after some boys played with his mini basketball goal for awhile, Elijah informed me the backboard was broken. As I viewed the cracks on the backboard I knew the crying was about to begin. Instead the little guy asked if I could tape over the cracks, which I told him was no problem, and he was happy. Now THAT was a breakthrough!

Is Hanna-Barbera hiring?

Yes, it's been awhile since my last post, but with Sarah on the computer all the time trying to make a living, my screen time is way down. So far it's been a good summer (spring never appeared here -- we went from snow and 20 degrees to high humidity and temperatures in the 90s in about a 24-hour period).

The Memorial Day weekend was filled with fun family outings that, because of her new schedule, Sarah was able to partake in. The outdoor pool at our health club opened on Saturday with Elijah and I showing up with suits on and raring to go. Within an hour, not one, not two, but three very attractive bikini-clad young ladies walked up to us to say hello and give a hug to.....Elijah. Since I was old enough to be their father, I just smiled at them and insisted that Elijah respond in kind. For the record, two were from the child center and the third was a lifeguard at the indoor pool during the winter. With prompting, all three got a "hello" back from Elijah.

That was just the start of the "Isn't that Elijah" recognition game that played out over the entire weekend. At a hot air balloon rally that night someone else recognized Elijah from a gym class he took years ago. The next day at the park pool, he was greeted by a little girl who knew him from YMCA after-school care this past year. (A boy at the pool later that weekend also recognized him from "Y-Care.") On Sunday night, at an outdoor concert attended by thousands, he was spotted by a young lady who used to babysit him years ago. And what was Elijah's response to all of this attention? Unless prompted, he pretty much ignored everyone, but it made me feel good to see how many people knew, and more importantly, seemed to care, who he was.

One activity on our radar this summer is to get the little guy to ride his bike more. We've already made a long excursion on the trails near our home, and he continues to enjoy riding at the area we call "Goose Poop Park." (A lake in the middle of this park is home to a large contingent of Canada geese and, without using too much of your imagination, I think you can see why we call it what we do.)

At the park is one spot where a tree's root has caused the pathway to rise quite a bit. Elijah, wanting to warn people about this impending danger, created a sign that he attached to a Starbucks stirring stick and planted in the ground:

Whenever the little guy does something like this, I am both delighted and amazed by his attention to detail and how his mind works. Yet, just when I think he cannot top a previous effort, Elijah creates something, besides basketball goals and signs, that just floors me. Yesterday he did it again.

Months ago, when he was in a Winnie the Pooh phase, he asked (actually demanded with a plead of "I need...") for a variety of Pooh coloring pages to be downloaded from the computer. Since I haven't seen any of them for awhile, I thought he was done with them until I was the presented the following:

This is the Pooh page I downloaded...

This is how he colored it.....

As he told Sarah and me, Pooh was singing a song (note the microphone and the notes) because he was happy. Forgetting for a moment the story he created for the picture, what absolutely blew me away was the detail he filled in as background. From the pathway from "(R)abbits (H)ouse" to the "Hunny" pot on the ground, it was as if he created his own cartoon cell, a lost art these days with almost all cartoons being computer animation. But I'm not surprised -- it's in his genes. With his mom having worked for years in print journalism (a dying industry) why wouldn't he show a talent and affinity for creating something that, like the newspaper, has just about disappeared in today's society?