A 5-year-old’s World

Sometimes I would like to see the world through Caleb’s eyes.  It’s all about the next adventure.  It’s all about running and playing and avoiding bedtime.  It’s all about him.
At five, Caleb is obsessed with all things creepy-crawly.  Basically, if I won’t allow it in the house, he LOVES it.  He would spend all day hunting for bugs, lizards, frogs & toads.  And, oh, when he catches them…those poor little guys.  He caught a toad this past weekend.  Rudy made him let it go in the yard after 24 hours.  I’m pretty sure that toad is in therapy somewhere (physical and mental).  Right this minute, there is a wet/dry habitat box on my back porch with 6 baby frogs hopping in it.  The previous inhabitant was a salamander and a variety of beetles and spiders.  Caleb says he wants to be a scientist when he grows up – the kind that studies bugs and animals.  We’ve learned some new words:  entomologist, zoologist and biologist.  He doesn’t think he wants to be a veterinarian, though.  They don’t get to work on spiders and bugs.  I’m pretty sure we’re not going to be able to avoid a lengthy trip through the insectarium this year when we visit the zoo.  A couple of weeks ago, I looked out the window as I was putting laundry away and saw this big box turtle crawling through our front yard.  We took Caleb outside immediately and he was so excited you would’ve thought Disneyworld had dropped in our front yard.  He looked at it, picked it up, giggled and then helped Rudy take it to a safe spot in an empty lot.  He talked about that turtle all weekend.

At five, Caleb is learning letters and numbers and logic and language.  He likes to write, but gets frustrated when we try to get him to sound out the words that he wants to put on paper.  He doesn’t really get math concepts, but I think that’s partially because I’m really bad at teaching them.  He can color beautifully, putting to ease my (very slight) worries of fine motor difficulties from a couple of years ago.  He loves books and I feel the greatest guilt when I have to tell him that we can’t stop and read a book right now.  He also likes to ask for books to keep from having to go to bed.  (He’s 5, right?)
At five, Caleb’s imagination is growing by leaps and bounds.  He pretends with his toys.  He pretends when he’s playing alone.  I love to “eavesdrop” on those moments.  One night, he decided that he wanted to make a campfire like Pops makes at deer camp.  He stacked some wood in the middle of the backyard, then gathered some rocks to make a circle around the wood.  He got a couple of chairs and put them by the fire.  That wasn’t quite enough, so he took his red bucket, turned it upside down and pretended that he had a campfire, just like at deer camp. 

At five, Caleb is still a worrier.  He gets it honest.  He’s naturally anxious.  I worry about his worry.  I’ve talked to my wonderful sister-in-law who is a psychologist and she assures me that he is okay.  We try to help him relax.  We give him time to survey the situation before expecting him to join in.  We don’t scold him for being reserved.  We do scold him for being ridiculous about it though – especially when we know he is putting on a show of it, like pretending to be scared just so someone will sleep in his bed with him.  We do scold him for being whiny.  I can’t stand whiny kids.  Sometimes Caleb is whiny.  We’re working on it.  Any suggestions? 
At five, Caleb loves his sister.  He loves his Daddy.  He loves his Mama.  He loves his grandparents and his friends.  He is a sweet, sweet boy…most of the time.  We do occasionally catch him giving Nola a little extra shove at the end of a hug.  We also see him give her hugs when he thinks nobody’s watching. 
At five, Caleb is wonderful.  He loves t-ball, football, bugs, animals, playing, anything with wheels, his family, his friends, the swimming pool, bizzert (dessert) and the ice cream truck.  He loves his behavior sticker chart that earns him nightly choices like playing Wii or a dollar for his bank.  He is pretty much a great kid…and I think I’d say that even if I wasn’t his mom.