~1000 Kid Words

So being that Luke and Buggs b-day party was rescheduled all the way back to Ducks birthday, we decided to have everyone in on it. Why leave Maggs out? Yes, there was no snow today! The MyGym people actually put the Happy Birthday song on four times. Gifts? I'm not sure. The date and plan kept changing. People brought between one and four gifts. Yipes. One is clearly enough; my bad.

Pictures are not worth a thousand words. They speak the truth, and you can reckon some things, for sure. But they don't tell you about what Ben recently said after praying with him: "I don't want to be wise, I want to be Batman." They don't tell you about the Ninja Turtle fever contagious in this house. They don't tell you about Maggy's love for blueberries or the bond we see being forged between Luke and Owen.

Here are some words about the kids, on record. Yeah, it's time for that one. I haven't done anything like that in a long time. 250 words for each kid sounds about right.

Now of course all of my children are advanced, with each one being exactly equally advanced as much as all three others. Like, there's advanced, then there's fer-real advanced, like top 10 at Harvard before going pro, all the while maintaining a perfect moral standing between God and their fellow men. As ridiculous as this sounds, why is it still hard for a parent to admit that each of them show clear preferences, strengths, and weaknesses?

So here is my absolutely skewed interpretation of what I see in them.

Trout has my energy. He will get up early and go all night, for as long as you give to him to go. He will be snotty in the middle of the day and not admit it. In him I see his moms gentle, easy going and quiet side, and the side of me that loves nature. Like, he's -literally- way out in left field regarding anything to do with the outdoors. Basketball and video games don't hold a candle to wandering around outside in the cold wind.

How can you be concerned with learning to catch ground balls when there are worms all along the lip of the garage? Did you not see this dad? Why did they do this? Where did they come from? What for? Trout found a deer skull in the woods today and com-puh-letely laid an egg. So far he's been an excellent student when his siblings allow him to concentrate.

Ducks loves to go outside when it's sunny with a high of 75 and the relative humidity is within reason and, most importantly, he's with his friend(s). We often use hot chocolate as a bribe for him to go out with Luke for a while. In Ducks I clearly see his moms sensitivity and his dad (wannabee) artistic side. You rarely, ever, need raise your voice at Ducks. Raising your voice is equal to a pop on the bottom or a trip to the dreaded puppy's room.

Ducks shares in this house like nobody else, including mom and dad. He holds his own food and toys with a very loose grip. If you want to taste or borrow or "borrow" something, ask Ducks. He regularly throws himself from high places like Trout and has the upper body strength to do monkey bars. But he will sit and play "drums" in rhythm for as long as you let him. You can tell he catches melody.

"That's not how it goes...say it right." Ducks is the only one who responds to my purposeful off key, off tune testing. Ducks is an entertainer too, often putting on a show as the others quietly stand by when we're out and crack up at him when we're home.

Buggs is pretty easy going; not at all needy. That's about all you can tell of his personality so far. He's the kind of kid you get out of a crying fit by saying "help me fix the chair." What not to say to Buggs when he's in a crying fit:

"It's okay honey. We'll get you another hot dog."
"Oh. It hurts to cook your head on the table, let me hold you."
"Here, let's play with this other toy instead."

But give him a "hey Buggs help me feed the dogs," and it's suddenly like "oh yes sire right away." No crying. Servants heart! And do not put him in his car seat while he's perfectly capable of climbing up in there like Luke. He will cry until you arrive at your destination and allow him to climb down and back up into his car seat, for third brothers in a family want no patronizing or sympathy.

While all the kids have shown interest in sports, Buggs had definitely taken it up a level. Today when all the others were jumping and playing and eating pizza at MyGym, he was shooting a soccer ball into a kid hoop. He consistently does 3 dribbles before shooting, often with a true form jumper. Later that same night, Buggs spent an hour hitting a blow up baseball off a T, running to fetch it, then hitting it again. His gait and movement are exactly like his grandad, by far the best Gorinski athlete so far. It's kind of like he's built out of denser material.

Maggs is also definitely a helper. She will cry to let you "help" you clean up during a diaper change, and soon there is crap everywhere. It's difficult to tell many personality traits and preferences at her age. I can say that, compared to the brothers, she takes much more notice of Amy's girly things like fashion accessories and hair products. She hates baby dolls and points out every "ball ball, and "birdy," real and fictitous, within five miles from here. She loves to be in the thick of things when it's time to rough house, and has not yet learned to patiently wait her turn to be tossed at the couch.

Maggs has walked and talked more and sooner than all three of her brothers. She looks kind of funny, being so small and motoring around so well on two legs. Every little thing she says in her sweet little mousy voice causes my head to explode and condense back into a steaming puddle of goo.

Now they all sleep, recharging for tomorrow. Which reminds me that it's time to be done.

We'll see...