cylas Of Food and Love: 5 year old boy antics cylas
by Mommy Hobbies
In my napsack stash
I’ve heard the name Napoleon Dynamite over and over again, but I’m thinking his name and my son were switched at birth. My son…is a dynamite. And that other kid…well, he just got a cool-ish name. Maybe I should have named my boy Cylas Explodimous. If you’ve never met my son, please, just take my word. If you HAVE met my son, please, back me up on this one and leave a comment. HAH.
When Cy was just a little thing, my grandfather proclaimed, because that’s what he does, quite boldly that, “Cylas has a memory like mine. He never forgets!” How true, how true. My little boy can recall incidents, quite vividly and with great detail, that happened when he was 2 years old. No joke. D and I will stare at each other in amazement, because we were there! We know he’s telling the truth! He even claims to remember what it was like in my belly…uhm, that one is a little questionable, but you get the point. The kid has the memory of an elephant.
Even though he’s hopped up on genetic crack, perpetually hyper and emotionally explosive at times, he’s quick, particular and very goal oriented. Aside from the fact that my kid can talk the ears off a statue, his ability to focus on his “plan” or “good idea” is astounding. The other night, we settled in to do some painting as a family (which I will have a blog on soon, because it’s too much fun to keep to myself) at first he was shaking, moving about the table and paints too quickly, making silly mistakes and messes, but then, he settled in got a groove and created a few masterpieces. On any given day, I can find him on his bedroom floor, sprawled out, coloring pencils in hand, furiously sketching. There is always a story for his pictures.
D and I honestly thought he had switched his coloring with another kid because the change was so drastic. But it was his. I was taken aback by the difference between the two.
It got me to thinking. If he can take so much care to make sure his colors stay in the lines, I wonder if he could use the same mental muscle to help him calm down when necessary. Because, it’s obvious he can rein himself in…
Yesterday he brought home this little scribble…and I frowned. Why was it so messy? He loves coloring and taking care to make sure his is “the best”.
Then I flipped it over. Choke the dumb turkey on the front. I have my own plans. Ahh, so that’s why it was so sloppy. He. didn’t. care.
My wild, focused, picky, impulsive, nervous, daring little boy. He is all of those things wrapped up in one cute little package.