The Birds and The Bees

Before you start to worry, this isn't THAT kind of post.  Ziggy isn't even four yet, so I am REALLY hoping I have some time before I have to navigate that discussion.

Lately, Ziggy has taken to imitating animals.  He goes so far to explain to me that I am the Mommy (insert genus/species here), Hubbs is the Daddy (ditto), and he is the little (last time).

I have learned that the type of animal he chooses is directly related to his mood.  If he is irritated (normally after I have told him to do something for the umpteenth time), he is a lion.  When he's sleepy and wants to cuddle, he is a puppy or a kitten.

Today?  We started out as parrots.  Why?  I have no clue.    I have yet to really be able to pinpoint what mood he was in.  He was happy.  We were headed out to the store, just me and him.  He was hungry, so a stop for nuggets and fries was in order (and a toy).  We ceased being parrots for a little while.

Our second stop was at our favorite warehouse sized store.  There were a lot of people in the store, which tends to lead to complete and total silence in my son.  Ziggy did not follow in my personality footsteps.  I like people (for the most part).  I tend to smile at strangers politely as I pass (although even I don't go so far as to speak to them in check out lanes).    My son?  Not so much. He generally elects to simply stare at those who choose to try to engage him in conversation.

Today, instead of silence, we morphed into bees.  The more people tried to draw him out, the louder the buzzing.  The higher the pitch?  The happier the bee apparently.  I ran into a coworker and her husband while in the store, and the little bee who had overtaken my son's body actually nodded at questions and smiled.  This is a rare occurrence in his world and means that he likes the person with whom he is speaking.  Like hubs, he has a great sense of people.

So, would other people find it weird?  Probably.  Do I care?  Absolutely not.  In this day and age, children grow up way too fast.  Imaginations are squashed in favor of realism.  We tell our children that they have to see the world in black and white and shades of gray instead of helping them remember that there exists a rainbow of colors.

And it is for this reason that my child is going to keep on buzzing, roaring, squawking, meowing, and yipping through his preschool years.  The promise I make to him is to allow him to be a carefree little boy as long as I can.  And to make sure that he always gets to see the rainbow.