I used to (ok, I still sometimes) complain about having to rush out the door so early and schlepp to Everett's school every weekday morning, but I do feel so lucky to get that one-on-one time with him every day, and I know there will be a time where I'll miss these days. And we have so much fun walking down the street to the bus stop, holding hands, singing songs, and avoiding cracks, passing dogs and collecting leaves. And then waiting for the bus, counting down how many minutes and how many stops away it is. And on the bus he'll ask for pictures of something on my phone – whale sharks, the seasons, the number 100 – you know, just regular stuff you want to look at pictures of. The other morning, walking down the block, he mentioned the tooth fairy. I just assumed they must have been talking about the tooth fairy in school, maybe someone's older sibling lost a tooth. Then he told me that his teeth felt "silly" and "sharp," and I kinda' shrugged it off, thinking he was just being hyper-aware and sensitive of his teeth and meaning the feel "slippery."
And then, that afternoon he came home with one of his bottom teeth missing! He already lost a baby tooth! He must have remembered the tooth fairy and losing baby teeth from goodness knows when (A Yo Gabba Gabba from 18 months ago?!) and had it in his mind. I immediately wish I had talked to him about it more instead of just brushing it off! And the poor little bunny was "too shy" to tell the teacher, so he didn't even say anything about it until he came home. And even though we didn't have anything to put under the pillow, the tooth fairy came anyway, and left him 20 Thai Baht. We found Thailand on the globe and talked about how far away it is and what it looks like. He carried the 20 Baht around with him for days calling it "my bill" and now every morning he asks for pictures of Thailand on the way to school and we bump past the Barclay's Center and across Flatbush and down Atlantic Avenue, flipping through stunning images of beaches and elephants and long-tailed boats.
Lately, Everett will take a bunch of crayons and draw a very abstract arrangement of shapes and colors, just a jumble of concentric triangles and rectangles and blobs. Then he'll step back, look at it carefully, and ask me "where we are?" It took me a minute to get what he meant, but I realized he was drawing maps and wanted to know where we were on the map. So I'll point to an area that looks most like where New York would be on a map of North America. Then he'll ask "Where's Greece?" And then "Where's Texas?" "Where's the countryside?" And as of last week, of course, "Where's Thailand?"