So today was a half day of school, AGAIN (the third day in a row!), and on the agenda for the afternoon was art. Paint, gems, glue, stickers...the works. My son, Peter went to town and churned out a prolific amount of art. He was really in a frenzy, for hours, and even when dinnertime rolled around and my husband was scraping sequins off the table to make room for the kid-friendly (aka fried) fish fillets, he still didn't want to stop.
"I can't stop. I just want to do one more (which really means 5-10). I HAVE to. They're for Aida!"
I looked at the huge pile of artwork beside him. I'm not kidding. It was 10-15 paintings and some projects he created for her to have fun assembling herself. One of them was a lacing project...he had two cutouts of hands, each hand painted very decoratively and holes punched all around the edges. He found a piece of string to go with it so she can have fun lacing them together.
Now, I have to explain who Aida is. She is my good friend's daughter, she is his muse, and she is his 'wife'. Did I mention that my son is 5 and Aida is 4?
Peter has always been in love with Aida since they were old enough to talk, and one day he finally asked her to marry him. My friend Carolyn and I witnessed the proposal. We were in the locker room at the gym after swimming.
"Aida, will you marry me?" he asked.
She thought for a moment. "Ok."
He was over the moon, and he and his sister spent the whole night planning the wedding. He even made a top hat for himself out of black construction paper. Then he told me the plan for their future.
"When Aida and I get married, can she live with us?"
"Well, she is only four you know. Don't you think her parents will miss her?" He thought about that for a minute.
"I know. I'm going to build a house for us, right next to this house. We'll have a tunnel that connects the two houses and inside the tunnel will be the swingset. Then I'm going to buy all our furniture at the furniture store, except for the bunk beds. I'm going to build those for our kids. Because when Aida's a grown up she'll have babies."
"Well I'm happy to hear that someday I'm going to have grandchildren!"
"Yeah, and Isabella and Clara and Katherine (their combined sisters) will live in our house, and her parents will live with you and dad in your house. That way they'll still be near Aida."
"Sounds like an interesting plan. Are you going to work?"
"Oh definitely. On Saturdays I'm going to be a scientist who works in a lab, and on Sundays I'm going to be a meterologist, and at night I'll be an astronomer" (I think he forgot about his ambitions to be an astronaut too at that moment)
"What will you do the rest of the time?"
"I'm going to stay home the rest of the week to be with Aida! Then when we have kids I can help her with the kids." (Yep, that's my boy! Can a mom be any prouder?)
A couple of weeks later we finally had the big wedding during our regular pizza night get together. He was so excited and respectably nervous, as any good groom should be. The happy couple walked down the hall, Aida in a fancy dress borrowed from my daughter Isabella, and Aida's mom and I presided over the wedding. Afterwards, the traditional kiss. Then the cake cutting. It was great fun for all. Now Peter calls her his wife. He gives her gifts, makes her things, writes her letters, and after he won a trophy at the science fair a couple of weeks ago, ran through the crowd, looking for Aida to show her. I think he'll be a great catch someday for some lucky girl. I wonder if it will be Aida for real? (Is it weird that I have changed Aida's diapers?) And I know I like the in-laws already so that would be good by me!
So tonight after I read to Peter, we were lying in bed talking for a few minutes. I said something about how he'll always be my little boy and I asked if he'd come visit us in this house when he was a famous astronaut/scientist/meteorologist with his wife and kids if he had them.
"With Aida!" He insisted. He was kind of mad at me for even suggesting it might be otherwise.
Hmmm. I may need to start prepping him for reality at some point. But maybe not. After all, when was the last time I laid out big dreams and didn't even give it a second thought that they may not turn out the way I planned? That kind of naive certainty is wonderful. I still think of big plans, but now I have that pesky reality thing that gets in the way. Maybe I need to take a lesson from a five year old who has no doubts about what and who he will be when he grows up.
The thought/fact of the day is:
Forget reality once in a while and go ahead and dream big. Why not?!
Geez, I have to get off these happy, sappy themes. But I can't help it right now...maybe you'll luck out soon and I'll write some pessimistic, depressing stuff. Don't hold your breath though ;-) (Note the little happy face thing...I couldn't resist!)
So chances are that Peter and Aida will NOT grow up and get married and live next to us with a tunnel connecting our houses, but who am I to say it couldn't happen? Chances are I will NOT write the next Harry Potter, or become a famous artist, or host a decorating show on HGTV, or win Dancing with the Stars. (Actually, you can pretty safely bet on that one not happening, as many will attest to.) But what's the harm in thinking about it? Or, what's the harm in believing it? I think when I figure out what my ultimate dream is, I'll try to be like Peter. I'll forget reality and just forge ahead, knowing it's going to happen. Because, hey, really, you never know!
This picture was taken from the fire tower at the top of a mountain. My 7 & 5 year old had no doubts that they wanted to and could get to the top of that mountain on a rugged trail. And you know what...they did it!
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