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."

Back from the Beach

We spent last week at Fort Morgan for our annual family beach vacation, and this week and weekend we hosted our Russian friend, Alec, and his brother, Arkady, so there hasn't been much opportunity for writing.

Henry had a wonderful time at the beach. I was worried when he got a nasty jellyfish sting our first day -- it was really awful, he still has a mini-rash on his forearm -- but he was absolutely committed to being in the water, no matter the cost, and went back in, day after day, regardless of how many little "irritations" he got. The wildlife was plentiful on this trip -- dolphin pods were leaping straight out of the water just yards from the shoreline, pelicans were diving, Mom caught a number of tiny sharks, and of course, there were the jellyfish. I guess nature felt it was finally our turn to remember whose ocean it really is, after summer after summer when we've barely even seen one.

Rachael and Philip came, along with Philip's parents and sister and her husband and two-year old daughter. It was great for Henry to have a playmate, and we had some delightful dinners al fresco as a group. I always like catching up with Philip's sister, Kate, since we graduated high school together. Henry just loves his "Nan" and "Rocko" and they were endlessly patient with his constant demands to "Watch this!" and "Come in the water with me!"

Friday night Alec and Arkady and Sam (sans Nicole, who is studying abroad in Austria for a month) joined us on the levee for the fireworks. It's so nice to live just two blocks from the Westbank levee, where you can get just as good a view of the fireworks as you could from the downtown side, minus the crowds. This year Henry was old enough to hold some sparklers and watch as Daddy and the boys set off some contraband down by the riverbank. My favorite part of the evening was watching the kids and teenagers do the Cupid Shuffle and the Superman to the sounds of the city-sponsored DJ wafting over from Woldenberg Park.

Yesterday Henry and I drove to Baton Rouge and had lunch with Pampaw and Jane (who gave Henry her python's discarded skin, which he proceeded to carry with him everywhere we went) and my Mom, and then Mom and Henry and I went over to Uncle Vance's to visit and to go through some of my Aunt Georgene's shoes. She was the only relative who had feet even smaller than mine -- I fit into her size 5 athletic shoes and a smattering of flip flops and sandals, but her delicate size 4s and even children's-sized pumps and dress shoes were just too tight for me. It felt strange to be back in her house without her there, but I know it meant a lot to Uncle Vance to be able to pass her things on to her nieces and friends.

Today Matthew is installing ceiling fans on the back porch, which will go a long way to making it a place we can comfortably spend time over this long, hot summer. Henry was invited next door for a Play-Doh playdate with our neighbor, Max. And I am just enjoying the quiet of the house, the relaxed feling that has finally settled over me after this long weekend, and looking forward to reading a novel while Henry naps. Or maybe (maybe) even managing a nap myself.