Digging in dirt

This morning, as we were doing Ezzie's Hebrew homework over breakfast, I noticed the above paper tucked into the back of his folder. Naturally, I first used all my mental powers to figure it out (the sun, and the moon with a square star are not the right answer), and finally caved and asked him what on earth it meant. "Okay," he answered, ready as usual for a long, detailed explanation (men, anyone?) "This is gold, and these are dinosaur bones. I asked everybody in my class what they wanted. Some people wanted two things, and they're gonna get them when I find them - in little bags. So those are their initials." Me: Is that what you're digging for in the backyard? Ez: Yes. Me (suppressing all emotion, Naomi- and Hannah-style): Oh.

It all adds up - this crazy paper is just so full of his crazy Ezra life, from toddlerhood on up. He is obsessed with money (it can buy toys and candy!), he is obsessed with dinosaurs (T-Rexes - the bullies of the dino world - naturally), dirt, digging, yard work involving tools and machines. As a tiny big-boy, nothing could be better than to watch the backhoe "coop" dirt, and the dumper truck go dump-dump-dump, and the cement mixer spin around, and the roller truck flatten the road. At home, nothing was better than to wear the real hard hat from Jim the neighbor, and to play in the "construction site" in the backyard (now the site of the archeological dig and the gold dig). 

I love that I have a male child and that I cannot with any cell of mine feel any interest in any of these things. (Nope! Not interested in money! Not one bit!)

Ezra... It makes me feel guilty that sometimes I despair of him, when his wildness and loudness overwhelm me and abruptly puncture the sweet babyland I inhabit until exactly 4:22 daily. Even though I know when to expect him, I'm never prepared for his energy to pounce into the house, and so I start off too often on a critical note, and we end up in a pointless power struggle all evening. But Ezra has a sweet, big heart; he is capable of surprising thoughtfulness and love and I just need to pray that his bullying side disappears. The happy, crazy energy will come in handy, transformed for adult life somehow.

Ezra adores Hannah. The kid is obsessed with money, but not stingy. Because he loves money, and also loves Hannah, he has a sandwich bag full of money he calls Hannah's, and she knows it's hers, and where it's stored (in an unused "meat" drawer) and says "I want my moneys" at least once daily. He shows it to her, at least once daily. On Fridays (today) the "big kids" at school open their "store," and he tells Hannah excitedly that he is going to bring her a lollipop (an interesting, different lollipop hailing from Brooklyn, New York!) and she says: I wan my lollipop! (And then needs comforting 'cause it's not yet here, of course.)

Ez to Hannah, also this morning: Hannah, I need a bye-bye kiss 'cause I'm gonna be gone for like more than three hours! Or maybe even four! (Try eight, kid.)

She freely gives it, then walks madly up and down the hall, saying: I needoo dzheck my eeeee-moooooo! 

I was changing her on our bathroom rug this morning, and she picked up my slippers (which were lying right there) saying: Do you wan your slipooos, mommy? And I said no thanks, and she said, with a twinkle in her eye: Do you wan your slipooos in your pah-tee? 

I laughed, and she said: I'm fah-neee. 

She is funny, and that was a good one. Maybe not one of your very best, Hannah, but... :-)