Part Boy, Part Monkey

J has always loved to climb. When he was 20 months old we had to take him out of his crib after one early morning when we heard a THUD and C, who was about 8 at the time, exclaimed "Wow. That was just like a cat!!!". Seems J climbed the rails, perched at the top and then jumped and landed on all fours, like a cat.

We went to Parent and Tot gymnastics and he climbed anything and everything. He was just like a monkey.

All of our windows and door jams have fingerprints, we even have an insane amount of fingerprints on the ceiling. His favourite place to hang out is at the top of a doorway.

At 2 years old I got lectured repeatedly by emergency personnel after J got away from me at an Adoption Family picnic, of all places, and he bolted right for the HUGE playground structure that probably wasn't really safe for any kid under 7. Even though I hightailed it after him,  he managed to get to the top and pitch himself over the side (while trying to get on the slide). He landed on his face before I even got to the edge of the playground. Miraculously, he was fine. And to think he didn't even start walking until he was 18 months old.

At 3 years old his gymnastics teacher let the kids all have a turn trying to climb the rope. Most kids didn't even really make it off the ground despite some big efforts. Then it was J's turn. The rope went up to the ceiling - and that's high in this building that is basically an airplane hanger in size so you can imagine how high up the ceiling is. J climbed to the TOP. At first everyone was shocked and impressed. Then reality sunk in - he had gotten up but he had NO IDEA how to get down and he had climbed up using his bare hands. Let's just say his hands were very sore for many days but that didn't stop him from asking to do it again, sigh.

Thankfully he's always ok and he is surprisingly agile and strong. We took a break from gymnastics but I hope he will want to go back - he can do a mean hand stand and I'd love for him to learn how to do a proper (safe) back flip.

As much as we might gasp, hold our breaths and worry at times. It is certainly a gift that he has. And I'm a little jealous ;-)

Greased Lightbox

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Gets Me Everytime

He sits answering the serious questions

then actually asks if he can type the answers himself

quickly asking for help on how to spell words

I sit with my back to him, facing the other people - trying to make it seem less like he has an audience (not that we are kidding anyone - there are 5 adults in the room)

He gives an answer that ends in "balls"

He starts to giggle

The 12 year old boy in him just can't help it

He repeats it a few times, changing some of the other words but always adding "balls", pausing to look around to see our reactions

I keep my back to him

But my shoulders shaking from my laughter give me away

Apparently I too am a 12 year old boy

It's not his words, it's that giggle from the depths of his soul - the one we heard the first day we met him at age 3.5. It swooped in and stole my heart that day as it does today. I can be the stone faced mom under any other circumstance but that giggle

it gets me every time

Sunshine and Rainbows

We just returned from two glorious weeks at a cottage.
I never thought I would type a sentence like that one (at least not unless it was a work of fiction).
In one sentence I wrote two weeks + cottage + we = glorious

 Read the rest over at Hopeful Parents