Month fifty-six

Dear Henry,
So, I blinked and you turned another month old. You keep doing that. If you don't slow this train down, we'll wake up next week and your pops and I will be dropping you off at Station Dorm with a good luck kiss and an extra ten for incidentals. (Consider yourself forewarned, Bean, a ten is all the extra you'll be getting. Pack thoughtfully so you can use it on something that counts like, say, licorice and corn nuts instead of deodorant and toothpaste.)

Summer is here so that means you are out of preschool for the next three months. You could not be happier. Things you really enjoyed about preschool included the new friends you made and all the time you got to play. Things you did not like were clean up time and anytime the teacher told you it wasn't playtime. Methinks you will appreciate the activities we do during the warm weather. It is so nice to be able to spend a significant part of our day outside. We hiked Silver Falls and there were several great things to note about this particular hike. For one, at some point you realized that boys generally don't wear their hair up in pigtails or ponytails or anything of the tail variety. When I noticed your flushed face during our hike, I was able to convince you to put your hair up but not before I heard you say this: "If the boys see me with my hair like this, they will make fun of me." While this made my heart sink the tinsiest bit, I beamed when you trusted me enough to let me put your hair up despite your fear of being ridiculed by your peers. Also, you are coming up with the cleverest comments. We were heading up dicey terrain by a quasi-cliff and you said, "I'll be as careful as a snail on steps," when I reminded you to stay away from the edge so as not to fall. Now, I don't really know how much danger a snail is in when ascending or descending steps but I'm guessing you think it is an extremely precarious situation and that the snail must give his (or her) utmost concentration so as not to be injured. Later on, you said, "It's as funny as a cow pooping jellybeans. Right, mama?" Yes, that would be humorous. Also, though, I would probably never want to eat another jellybean. Not even on Easter. But my absolute all time favorite thing about this hike was that you would repeatedly stop in the middle of the forest on a trail surrounded by trees and say, "Mama, come here," and I would turn around and you would continue with a voice tinged with incredulity, "I found a piece of ... [wait for it] ... wood." Hilarious! And might I just say that taking a hike with a little human who finds everything fascinatingly enthralling takes f  o  r  e  v  e  r. You are definitely helping me work out my patience muscles.

I would be remiss in my letter writing if I did not mention that you learned how to blow up a balloon. This process was nothing short of exhausting for us both. There were a lot of slobbery balloon pieces scattered around us by the end. You were certainly frustrated that the skill of blowing up small balloons eluded you but quite pleased that you could blow up, deflate, and then blow up the same big balloon over and over and over. Best $2.67 I ever spent was on that package of balloons, I tell you. More exciting was the construction of marshmallow balloon shooters. I don't know for sure if it was the shooting or the consumption of marshmallows but this was a win-win type of project that kept us busy for a couple hours. 

On Sunday, June 3, 2012 at approximately 3:20p.m. you were stung by a bee. The little sucker got you on your toe while we were playing at the beach on the west side of the river. You had no allergic reaction (thank goodness). You even rallied and walked the rest of the way home. Given that when we left the house you were a superhero this isn't all that surprising. Superheroes generally have high tolerances for pain. 

You occasionally wear dresses, although I suspect this, too, will become a thing of the past as you know boys don't typically wear dresses. When scootering around the neighborhood, I often look behind to see you using your scooter as a free-weight, lifting it high over your head once, twice, and three times for good measure. Your pops was gone on a business trip so that meant even more quality time with your mama. You were disappointed we couldn't go with your pops on this trip, convinced you would have a good time at the convention. You are officially four and three quarters. Welcome to Month fifty-six, Bean.
Love, 
Mama