When I grow up

When I grow up, I should like nothing better than to be four years old.

Yes, four year olds have their ups and downs and their fair share of bumps in the road. Who wants the injustice of adults telling you what you can and cannot do all day? Why doesn't everyone know how much you can do by yourself? Why just yesterday, Zeke told Aaron, "Stop telling me what to do!" (And then some four year olds have it real rough -- their parents introduce a baby into the mix!)

But, there is such a joy to the life of a four year old that I am often jealous of Zeke. Last week, I made a big effort to do something fun with friends everyday. I haven't quite gotten the hang of how to be at home with both of them without ignoring a) Zeke, b) Toby or c) whatever it is that I need to get done in the house, so it is often easier to plan our day around an activity outside of the house. Zeke is on break from school, so we have a lot more days to plan out, too.

Anyway, one day we met two friends and their moms (and similarly brand new siblings!) at a free outdoor concert. We'd packed a picnic lunch with some to share. I loved watching Zeke as he and his friend ate the better part of a watermelon half. They had pink juice dripping everywhere, they put the rinds in their mouth to make exaggerated smiles, and they shared so easily. After -- with a few wipes later -- they had grabbed hands and were dancing and laughing and playing with some other kids they didn't know. One of those kids shared some bubbles and then they were off playing a new game of Chase the Bubbles, almost oblivious to the concert going on. I had a good time, but am still sure they were having a better time.

He also can talk to any stranger and tell them the story of his day, dance in the aisles of the grocery store, sing completely made up songs as well as adaptations of well known favorites and be completely open with his feelings. I love when I tell Zeke that Aaron bought some peaches at the farmers' market and he yells, "Yay! I love peaches!" He might get knocked down and cry, but then he is up again and completely forgiving of whoever/whatever caused the spill. He is friends with whoever will play with him. He will wear an eye patch and then have to be a pirate through lunch. If he wears his Batman shirt, he may be Batman the whole day.

Even when being four gets Zeke into trouble, I can't help but find some upside. At school, I could sometimes hear his teacher call his name even before I hit the door, but I am sometimes glad for it. He is so self-possessed as a four year old in a way that I am not always able to be as a thirty-something. I'm still trying to suss out all of the ingredients to this magic: innocence, fearlessness, and lack of awareness that we are not supposed to find happiness in so many simple things. (Well, a lack of regard for other people's -- namely mine -- authority!) I may never be four again, but I am so happy to get to share time with this four year old.