:: He loves blue jeans. Loves. A year ago, I had to beg and bribe to get him to wear the super cute jeans I bought for him from Gap Kids. Now I beg and bribe to get him to please save the knees in just one pair of jeans. I lost the battle for nice, freshly ironed (How often do I do that? Never.) khakis on Easter. He wore jeans. "But there are no holes in the knees, Mom. Pleeeeeeaaaassssse?"
:: He hates shoes and socks. Noah's temper has somewhat tamed itself over the years. But if there is one thing that can still send the boy into a fit of tears and frustration, it is footwear. I plan to avoid conflict this summer by allowing as much of this as possible.
:: He is learning to play guitar. This was his idea. Now, of course, the drudgery of practice, interrupting play to go to lessons, and trying to keep track of both guitar and guitar book are overwhelming him. I am informed every Tuesday at 4:45 while trying to wrestle all three small people into the car for the short trip downtown that he hates the guitar. At 5:45, we can't get home fast enough for him to show me the new chords he learned.
:: He is nearly six. What a great age. Smart and athletic. Full of funny jokes and creative spirit. Bursting at the seams with E.N.E.R.G.Y, but able to sleep in past 7 am. Amen.
:: He still loves his mom.
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