Superhero

It has been the year of the Superhero in our house. First, there was the obsession with Superman (somehow in alignment with the movie we never saw...) and now there is a true love affair with Spidey. "Did you know his real name is Peter Parker, Mom?", my now 4 year old asks incredulously. He absorbs these new facts about the webslinging superhero like he's learning his times tables. He throws them on me at the dinner table between handfuls of spaghetti and sauce that he's trying desperately to swirl on his fork. "Um, did you know, that Spiderman was on a field trip, and he was bit by a poisonous spider, but he didn't die, he got web-power, and his feet are sticky and he can climb walls, but he doesn't have x-ray vision, and he doesn't wear a cape because he doesn't fly because spiders don't fly, they just web." He says all this in one breath with a mouthful of spaghetti. But it doesn't really matter than no one can understand him because we've heard it all before,daily,hourly...possibly even more frequently. I now know about even obscure superheros who joined the Justice League apparently after I'd stopped watching WonderWoman cartoons. Jonn Jonze, the martian superpower, Green Lantern, Hawk girl, Flash, to name a few.
But the best is when he creates his own superhero persona, like when he's wearing his rainbow striped shirt and he tells me he's "Colorful Man." (Fighting for truth, justice, and gay marriage?) I guess that's the beauty of the Superhero phase is that children get to believe for a few brief moments or a couple of years, that the good guys are out there fighting evil, and that they are also fighting evil in the backyard with a hose and sandbox shovel. My daughter never went through this phase or it's Disney Princess equivalent of it (thank God, I must say), but I am loving the sense of adventure, and the complete personality and identity shift that occurs when he puts on those spiderman pajamas.

Everything and Nothing

Today was a busy day, not unlike many of our days, but we actually had somewhere to be by 10am. We spent the morning and better part of the early afternoon playing with friends, splashing in the inflatable shark pool until it was completely annihilated, then creating games such as fort with giant golf umbrellas turned on their sides and huge tablecloths draped over. The kids made "tea" with water and grass and clover, and called it "spicy tea" and "bubbly tea" encouraging me to try some. "Just pretend sip it," my friend's little one cautioned, her blue eyes very concerned.

We left and made short visits to the library, where the kids picked out superhero stories and turned their bookmarks in for prizes, and then the grocery where they have those little miniature carts that kids can push around much to the misery of all those childless shoppers. Ian held a package of spaghetti through the store asking if we could light each piece up and make fireworks out of them(pasta sparklers- why didn't I ever think of that! ) "Ian, explained Julia, "that would be very dangerous." "Besides'" she reasoned, "there already exists something like that called sparklers." She says this to him as if he is quite clearly the most idiotic person she has ever met.

Later they both played in the giant dirt hill that has recently become our side yard after my husband picked up about 40 yards of topsoil. The dirt hill has filled many an hour since its arrival, and I'm considering it the top toy of the summer, that is until it rains. I water the plants and watch them play, listening to the games their making up with their little prizes from the library reading program. "This glowing green ball has glowing green powers, Julia," says Ian. "Only your light up ring can stop the green lantern power." Julia gives a nonchalant wave of her ring in his direction.

I love these days that seem filled with everything, but nothing in particular. We were all so tired this evening, getting their baths and watching them compare their dirty feet for whose were the dirtiest, which quickly led to words like butt, booty, poop... you can imagine. I was washing Ian's hair, and as we do at the end of most days, I asked him what the best part of his day was. He looked up at me with his shampoo mohawk and said, "what did we do today, Mommy? Did we stay home or did we go somewhere?"