My brilliant, complex son

   Still no pictures today, because Michael has the camera in NYC.  But today I want to brag a little about Henry (skip this post if you have a weak stomach).  I spent a little time in Henry's class this morning helping with a special project, decorating pumpkins.  I wasn't planning to be there, because it fell during my precious Agatha-babysitting hours which I try to preserve for scholarly work, but yesterday after school Henry said, "I was disappointed that you weren't there with the other mommies in my class to help with the pumpkins.  But they're doing it again tomorrow, so can you please come tomorrow?" and I was helpless to resist the direct request.  I'm always so impressed when I'm there, and I love to see his class in action. The children are so sweet and goofy and interesting, and they are all so self-sufficient, getting their own snacks and putting work away, and so concentrated on their tasks.  The classroom is bubbly and fun but also quiet and organized.  
    Henry was doing the "teen board."  The last couple of weeks he has been bringing home the most amazing work in math and writing.  It seems like he's just going through an explosion in his abilities all of a sudden.  He said recently: "On the 11th day [of my trip to Paris] I started my composition book."  He is so proud of this: he does work with words, sounding them out, and then he writes them in his composition book.  Last year he would tell me about the big kids and their books, and he is so proud that now he is doing this work.  Yesterday he said: "I can read some words now that I'm 4.  I read 'snap,' 'trick or treat,' and 'Paris.'"  Which is mostly true!  He also told me that he read and wrote at school the words was, no, and yes.  
   The teen board is a Montessori contraption that entails putting numbers up in order from 11-20, hanging the beads underneath to match, and then doing various exercises in a workbook.  He asked me to sit with him for a minute while he worked, and he asked his teacher to read him the instructions, and then he did the work, which involved counting the beads, coloring them the right colors, and writing the numbers next to them.  Other pages ask for him to note whether one quantity is greater or lesser, and so on. 
    His teacher, Eileen, told me they have a hard time keeping up with Henry these days; he's already finished one math workbook and just asked to start another.  She said they don't usually have these materials out until later in the year, and certainly not for second-year students.  She also said that what's amazing about Henry is that he doesn't only concentrate on math; "he's got it all," she said.  Of course, I was so proud.  And I'm so happy he's at a preschool where he can learn and keep learning as much and as fast as he wants to.  Interestingly, Henry never did the pumpkin project.  He was the only kid who declined to do it, even though I was there helping (at his request).  He sat with me and watched the other kids do it, and he told the head teacher, Meghan, that he was too busy with his math.  A contrarian for certain.  
   When I left the class, Henry came with me.  It was very unlike him, but he'd been a little pouty before school and then he protested that he was tired and wanted to come home with me.  He WAS tired; we've all been getting up too early with the time-change.  And I decided to indulge him rather than making a federal case out of it, so I took him along with me to the office.  We had a great time!  He colored and lounged on my office futon while I worked, and then we got a blueberry muffin at the campus cafe, and then he helped me carry and check out a big stack of library books.  I actually got some work done, and I think he really liked being part of my workday, as I had been part of his. 
   He did take a nap this afternoon, and then we went over to Gran's for pizza.  ("I would like cheese pizza, because I had it one day and I found that I liked it," he said.)  On the way home, he ran ahead to open the gate for us.  This gate is about 5 feet high, with a four-foot solid bottom and a trellis on top.  Henry has recently learned that he can jump up and climb over this fence and unlatch it to open it-- he CAN do this, but it is not easy, especially not at the end of a long day.  But he insisted on it.  He kept jumping, grabbing, scrambling, and failing to make it.  But he would not let me help him, or talk him out of it, or go in another door, or bribe him with chocolate ice cream.  He must have tried about 15 times and was yelling, crying in frustration but NOT QUITTING.  I said he could try four more times and then we were just going to have to go in because it was getting too cold and Agatha had to go to bed.  And then, he did it.  He finished climbing over, unlatched the gate, went in and opened the door, and asked for chocolate ice cream. 
   So there you have my tenacious, smart, perfectionist, contrarian, wonderful son in a nutshell.