Wednesday, March 29, 2006
I often get up in the morning to find a hot cup of tea waiting for me, made by my ever-lovin' husband before he leaves for work. Lately he's also been making Peregrine's favorite drink, a molasses steamer. Last week Peregrine got up while I was still in bed. He came out and saw that Daddy had made him a steamer, then came back and cuddled with me for a while and told me all about what he had found: "Well, Dada said to himself this morning "Hmmm, what kind of hot drink would my boy like on this cold morning? I'll make him a steamer." Mom, Dad made me a chocolate steamer because I like chocolate steamers. Do you like chocolate steamers? We all like chocolate steamers. We're a chocolate steamer family!" A chocolate steamer does sound nice, but I'm afraid that even my deprived boy knows the difference between blackstrap molasses and chocolate! He must not have tasted it yet.
Hot milk with molasses, by the way, was a tradition that started for us a very long time ago, when I was just about Peregrine's age. My Dad was in Bible school at the time and each day when he came home he made himself a cup of coffee and me some warm milk with molasses. I felt very grown up with such an elegant beverage. We would sit together and talk about how our day had been. My Dad was very cool by the way. He had big sideburns and when we were walking together he would say "Howdy!" to the people we met along the way. I was sure that "howdy" must be the coolest way to greet people and I practiced saying it just like my Daddy.
Peregrine doesn't sleep anymore during the day but still has a rest time each afternoon. He listens to Bible story tapes and looks at books in his bed. Yesterday when I went to get him up he had shaped his blanket in such a way that it looked like a cave. He had a sipper cup with water and informed me that it was Jesus' car. Wow, Jesus' car! And that He was driving in it with his disciples, into the rabbit hole, which was the cave in the blanket! I love to see the things that my boy imagines and pretends. I can't keep up with al the different roles he plays and expects me to play, but it's sure fun trying! (Either fun or exasperating, depending on the minute!)
And then there are the dreams he's been having lately. There was the "horrible dream" where there was an ant and a tiny reindeer on some ice. And then he was flying (with his body, not an airplane) and he flew to another house. He saw a lady in a rocking chair and she saw him and then he called out for me but I didn't answer him. Horrible indeed. A few nights ago I went in to cover him and he frantically asked me "Mom, Mom, is my lunch box safe?" "Huh? Your lunch box? Yes, of course it's safe. It's right here in our house." The next morning I got the whole story: He had disobeyed me with his lunch box and put it in Grandma's fan. Then he was crying and crying, Grandma turned the fan on, and his lunch box went flying through the air. There was some black stuff on the top of it and when Papa tried to get it off he started yelling "No! No, Papa!"
Yup, that's my boy! Anyone out there who is into interpreting dreams will probably be able to psycho-analize my son and tell me all the ways that I've already messed him up. Go ahead and tell me; I need to know. He's a great boy, full of life and energy, a strong will, a great imagination and the vocabulary to share his stories and dreams with us all.