Breaking the ice

"I'm king of the forest!" Ethan shouted while waving the Union Jack and wearing my green cloth headband around his forehead. I'm not sure where this came from, because his typical alter-ego is the all-American, bad-guy-killing SuperBoy.

When Ethan was a baby, seeing his tiny thoughts become actions was a thrill. I still remember the first time I saw him lean over, grab a basket of toys, and actually select a specific toy. "He selected a toy! He selected a toy!" The elation and fascination only a lunatic mother could experience over so small an act.

Lately it's his imagination that has me on the edge of my seat, waiting for the next delightful surprise. The other day he claimed to have seen a spaceship in the sky, for instance. Today I was the recipient of a one-sided conversation (while he was on the can, incidentally, and forcing me to watch from the doorway) that ranged from lessons in anatomy to something about being up on a high mountain to...actually, I'm not really sure. He covered a lot of bases. Without using any transitional phrases.

One of my favorite things about Ethan growing into a preschooler is watching him learn to have friends. He has a particular friend at our new church—Drake, who is four—and as we were leaving from our small group last weekend, Drake shouted, "Bye, Ethan! Don't forget about me!" To which Ethan replied, with complete sincerity, "Okay!"

Maybe I'll relearn some important lessons about friendship as I watch Ethan learn to navigate the tricky terrain of human interaction. Actually, I've already relearned one thing. As the boys played in the next room, somebody ripped a tooter, and much giggling ensued. Lesson: It only takes one brave soul to break wind the  ice.