Birthday Week

On Thursday we celebrated Henry's 4th birthday. His party was yesterday (Sunday), but on Thursday he got to bring cupcakes (if you can call them that...more on that later) to school and we let him open all his Mommy and Daddy presents. We had gone to great lengths (even contemplating supporting Wal-Mart) to find him a talking Wall-E toy, and it was well worth the effort. He absolutely loves it, and even shed some tears when he went to bed because he was "going to miss Wall-E when I am school tomorrow." Giving him gifts is a joy. We don't buy him much outside of Christmas and birthdays, which fall conveniently about five or six months apart, and he is generally quite appreciative and gracious. And we benefit from the fact that he is fully occupied with his new things for the next few weeks, at least. I keep some of his toys out of sight in his closet for weeks a time, so even when the initial novelty has worn off, his interest is rejuvenated when we bring them out again.

He generally likes his new Montessori school (he's been attending camp there for most of the summer), though he frequently complains that they don't have a TV at this school. (Matthew and I secretly high-five behind his back when he says this). And there is no question they are more rigorous about diet. The first day, we got a note home complaining that Henry had brought a chocolate-covered granola bar in his lunch, which is apparently against school policy. And yesterday, for his birthday, we were instructed not to bring anything chocolate or with too much icing -- banana bread or carrot cake, with just a dusting of powered sugar, if any, would be preferred. We complied, of course. We knew he'd get plenty enough sugar, anyway, in his Lightning McQueen cake for his official birthday party.

Friday night we hosted the Aunt Sues, and had a wonderful time. We always just pick up where we left off, even if it's been months since we've seen each other. Henry absolutely adores them, and from their patience and enthusiasm, I'd say it's a mutual affair. He had one of his usual bouts of melancholy when it came time for them to leave, after a lovely breakfast at Tout de Suite. I used to think his refusal to say goodbye when we separate from someone was a rare form of rudeness and rebellion for him, but I've come to understand that for him, the word "Goodbye" is a performative statement -- he believes that if he says "goodbye" he will contribute to the actual leaving, and he just can't sanction that. Once I grasped what was driving him, I was able to silence my annoyance and try to explain patiently that even though we don't want someone to leave, and we're sad about it, we still have to say goodbye, so we don't hurt their feelings. He now says goodbye, but you won't get any hugs -- he's not going to give it to you with a cherry on top.

So yesterday was his big party at the Monkey Room, an indoor space full of tunnels and slides and space walks. Normally, we just have a backyard party at home, but our yard just really isn't ready for that. Plus, it's July. Nothing like a summer in Louisiana to make you appreciate air conditioning -- our electricity was out for a couple of hours this afternoon, and I was so grateful when it came on again, I clapped spontaneously. So this indoors, all-you-do-is-show-up-with-the-cake idea really seemed like it would be a hit, and it was. Henry was great with his guests -- you'd never have suspected how incredibly shy he used to be -- and I got to see friends and family and meet the parents of his friends at school/camp. And then we came home and had the whole day to play with his toys, including Hungry Hungry Hippos, which was a real blast from the past for me and Matthew.

I'll end with something funny he said last week, another reminder of the unique perspective of a four-year old. Matthew was singing in the kitchen while cleaning up, and Henry was enjoying it but said, "Daddy, sing lower." So Matthew lowered an octave. "No, Daddy, sing LOWER." Okay, said Matthew, and sang more quietly. Henry, who was lying on the floor, finally explained, "No, Daddy, sing DOWN HERE."