Tuesday, February 15, 2011
My Peter Pan
After the most recent session at school of Human Growth and Development—5th grade boy edition--there has been a lot of puberty talk at our house. I think that the session is over for the year, but I plan to be on vacation next year so Michael can field all the questions, plus drive Andrew and any friends home from their after school activities. I really tried not to listen as they discussed the topics of the day, but my CRV is not that big. I needed a limousine style privacy panel, so that I couldn't hear the discussion which ended with Andrew's friend proclaiming his recap of the class, "That was GROSS."
Andrew has told me in no uncertain terms that he does not want to grow up. He is quite content as a kid and would really rather move to Neverland to live with Peter Pan. Okay, so maybe he didn't say it quite that way, but he is certainly not too happy about the recent addition of deodorant to the morning routine. Who knew that it could take a 10-year-old so long to deodorize? Who knew that there is such a thing as "in" deodorant? Do you think the suggestion that maybe he should actually wash his face with some type of soap would push him over the edge?
Andrew's school day begins about an hour before David's, so I tiptoed into his room a few days ago to wake him up, only to find David cuddled up next to him in the bed, both wearing the matching pajamas they had received for Christmas. (Where is the camera when you need it?) It is not unusual for David to wake up in the middle of the night, but it was the first time that he did not call for Michael or me, did not come into our room and climb into our bed. Instead, he made a detour to Andrew's room, climbed the ladder to the top bunk and wedged himself next to his brother.
Add that to the time that Andrew had to translate for David because he was not making himself clear, except that the person having trouble understanding was me. Or the time that I saw Andrew stroking David's hair to comfort him, and David was firmly holding onto Andrew's wrist to make sure that he didn't stop. Or the visit to Pump It Up, where I had tried every trick in the book in an attempt to coax David to try one of the inflatables, but when Andrew came over, held out his hand and said, "C'mon, let's go" David hopped right off the bench where we had been sitting and followed Andrew down the slide.
It is not surprising that Andrew is growing up whether he likes it or not. Andrew knows too, that despite his protests, it is going to happen. The surprising part? It seems David was the first to notice.