There isn't any story for this one, I just love the picture.
If you never tried this out on a swing, were you ever really a child?
Abigail likes the new swingset, too. She is a big fan of being "outdoors." I have often heard my dad quote his mom saying that kids need "fresh air." Abigail is definitely a believer of that statement.
This week I cut Warren's lovely locks. People now say that he looks just like Andy did at this age. I miss his long hair.
Abigail is now a proficient crawler! She goes everywhere! She even tries chasing Warren as he rides his (indoor) bike around the house. Needless to say, he rides circles around her, but both she and Warren thoroughly enjoy the game.
Just another shot of those beautiful blues.
This picture serves two purposes: first, notice Warren's haircut. Second, and much more important, is the story that goes with it. Today, (28th) Warren attended his friend's third birthday party. I wanted Warren to begin to understand gift-giving and what it means to give a meaningful gift. So I first asked him, "It's Alton's birthday. Do you have a special toy--a car or something--that you know he would like that you want to give to him?" I expected, at best, for him to pick some ratty old car that he never plays with, and, at worst, a flat "no" with tears to go along with it. What I got was entirely different. Warren answered, "I could give him my Thomas train!" Now, you've got to know, Thomas was a Christmas gift, a treasured Christmas gift that is played with frequently. I gulped hard trying to decide if I could bear for him to part with it, and wondering how I could explain it to the giver of the gift. Luckily, I remembered that Thomas was actually "mine" as of this morning, since Warren had not put him away. Phew. I was saved. "Thomas isn't yours to give today," I replied. Warren didn't miss a beat. He went right over to his train table, picked up two wooden cars and said, "Okay, I'll give him these two." I gulped hard again. They were part of a matching set! What if he missed them later? This giving thing was harder than I thought! Couldn't he have just chosen some beat-up car? I took a deep breath and said, "Okay. Let's go make him a card." Warren chose a picture of trains for us to print (see picture) and then "helped" me cut it out with my paper-cutter. We weren't done yet, though. Knowing what other kids would likely show up to the party with--think new, plastic, battery-operated, noise-making etc.--and knowing how much kids like getting money, I thought it would be appropriate to give the birthday boy a few dollars. What kid doesn't like carrying around crisp dollar bills? Again, wanting this to be Warren's gift-giving experience, I said, "Let's give Alton some birthday money. Do you want to give him mommy's money, or your money?" I knew the answer to this one. Warren LOVES his money; he regularly entertains himself by dumping it out of the peanut canister known as his "penny" bank and then dropping each coin one at a time into the slot cut out of the lid, delighting in the great "clinking" sound each coin makes as it hits the metal bottom. Yep, there was no way Warren would give Alton his money. I was wrong. Without hesitation, Warren gleefully called out, "My money!" and hefted his "penny" bank onto the piano bench where I sat. I was suprised, but recovered quickly as I set off to get a baby food jar to hold the money. I returned to the bench and watched as Warren emptied the contents of his bank onto it. He started dropping coinsinto the jar, one at a time at first, but the wide mouth of the baby food jar seemed to encourage more generous giving. Soon, he was grabbing handfulls of coins and dropping them in the jar. "You don't have to give it all," I said, worried that he might regret his rash generosity later. He kept going. Only when the last coin was in the jar was he finished. I asked if he knew that the money and the trains would be Alton's once he gave them to him, and that they would stay at his house, and not be ours anymore. "Yeah," he replied casually. We set off in search of a gift bag. I keep a stash in the clost and brought it out to show Warren. "Which one?" He immediately noticed the bright pink one standing out from all the blue baby shower leftovers. "Pink!" It's his gift, I thought, and said, "Okay." Warren placed the trains and the money inside, but not without me checking, once again, to make sure he really knew what he was doing and really wanted to give them away. He never faltered. Well, at least one of us was being calm and rational about the whole thing. We set off down the street, walking slowly to the party. I carried the gift at first, then asked Warren if he wanted to carry it. He did, of course and loved dragging it alongside him. I reached for his hand. It felt so small in mine. We walked and talked again about what he was giving away. Realizing he was not the one having a hard time, I finally said, "Don't you think Alton is going to like your presents?" "Yeah, he will," he replied in a satisfied voice. "How does it make you feel knowing he'll be so happy?" "I feel happy," and with that said, he broke into a run since the party house was now in our view. We arrived, Warren handed his gift to Alton's mom and tromped off to the inflatable bouncer in the backyard, never looking back. He didn't even flinch when Alton opened his present. When the other kids at the party came over to drool over the new acqusitions, many, amongst all the shiny boxes, picked up the jar and said, "Wow, you got money," and, "Ooh, coins!" in a wishful voice. Later, we walked home, his hands full with bags of jelly-bellys and Fritos, and my heart full of gratitude that my attachment to "things" hadn't gotten in the way of his generosity. "But Jesus said, Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven." Matthew 19:14.
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