Storyteller

The last couple of weeks Mazin has been telling more stories. We go on adventures and he makes memories, and then he likes to recount his experiences to others. It's always funny to hear his version of events, which usually comes across as pretty nonsensical, but actually makes perfect sense if you were there. He doesn't provide much context; he just cuts right to the action: "There was a green car and a red car and we went fast." (This is the story about the race car ride at the Addison County Fair." And there's the one about the day he had two big ouchies one after another: "I tripped on someping at the tennis court and there was a tick on my face." (The one didn't have anything to do with the other, but they are forever linked in his mind.) Mazin is becoming so much more adept at expressing his feelings and opinions, and communicating what is on his mind. I have to remind myself that I am no longer talking to a toddler. He's a little boy listening carefully to what I say and ready to parrot back any knowledge I give to him. It makes me wish I knew more about the world around me--about how stuff works. Why are caterpillars hairy, for example? I don't want to give him some bogus answer, but I feel like to should have the information he wants. Perhaps I should direct his attention to the things I do know.

The photos are from our trip to Maine, where Mazin rekindled old friendships with Mike's sweet nephews and gained confidence as a hiker, swimmer, and wildlife wrangler. In the ocean shot he is reaching into a tidal pool for a crab! The woods shot is from a three-hour hike, much of which Mazin spent in the lead, following (and sometimes losing) the subtle trail and not letting the older boys leave him in the lurch. It was impressive.