In Deston's imagination

Deston and I have started having some good talks before he goes to bed. In general, I put Lucinda to bed and Andrew gets Deston in his jammies, helps him brush his teeth, and reads him his story. Then I come in to sing him a song (lately his favorite is "We Three Kings," a leftover from the Christmas season). With all the changes we've been going through, Deston has regressed a little when it comes to falling asleep. I used to stay for a minute and leave him to fall asleep. Lately, though, he tries everything he can to keep me there and Andrew ends up sitting in bed with him until he drifts off. The past few weeks, Deston and I have started talking after I sing his song. He shares some part of his day or brings up something that's working its way through his always active brain. One night it was about Peanuts; we discussed our favorite characters and talked about how horrible Lucy is. That girl is a lesson in anti-bullying if ever I saw one. In a particularly intimate moment, Deston shared that he has imagined grown-ups being so scared of children that they would run away screaming. He would chase these frightened adults around on a motorcycle. Only strangers, though. He wouldn't chase people he knows. I thought to myself, "Some adults almost are so scared of kids that they run away. We call these people parents." His fantasy is a pretty classic "revenge-on-grown ups" scenario, but I did cringe for a moment and worry that I'm raising a psychopath.

He also imagines a world where no one eats food. We all drink breastmilk out of bottles, not cups, because cups were never invented. How we, as a species, managed to invent bottles but not cups is beyond me! Nursing Lucinda has rekindled Deston's interest in breastfeeding. I could easily be that mom on the cover of Time, nursing my first-grader. Instead, I tell Deston that breastmilk is for babies and he's a big kid. I can't blame him for wanting the closeness to me that he's been used to his whole life. He's so good with Lucinda and expressed so little jealousy. I'm enormously proud of how he's accepted her into our family and I hope she'll always appreciate what a caring and generous big brother she has.

So, even when it's getting late on a school night and I know he should be asleep, resting for another busy school day, I can't help but prolong our conversations just a little. He's endlessly fascinating to me with his big heart, curious mind, and fierce need for physical contact.