November 15, 2007 by Marj Hatzell
Bugaboo is becoming more and more aware of his surroundings. He is actually LISTENING WHEN WE SAY THINGS, like, “Get off the top of the fridge!” or “Put that crystal elephant down!” or “PUT YOUR CLOTHES BACK ON, IT’S FORTY DEGREES OUT HERE!”
Bugaboo loves the fireplace. No, he lerves it. As in, wants to hug it and squeeze it and call it George. And he just climbs right in there to get cozy. No kidding! Don’t worry, the fire isn’t lit. He’s just in there with the hot ashes. And you wonder why they make flame retardant children’s pajamas? They are for Bugaboo. Clothing manufacturers knew that sooner or later Bugaboo was gonna climb in there.
When we do have a fire we OBVIOUSLY do not leave him alone with it. If there is a roaring fire I bring him to the basement with me to switch over clothes (Which he loves, because he likes to try to climb into the dryer. Don’t worry, we have safety locks on those, too. And we lock the laundry room door.). If I walk into the kitchen I make him come with me. You see, Bugaboo likes to be as close to the fire as possible. It mesmerizes him. It calms him. When Daddy brings firewood in it can only mean one thing. He jumps up and down, laughs, claps his hands and kisses us repeatedly. Then, while Darling is building the fire (before it is even lit), Bugaboo runs around the house assembling his favorite fireplace items: two beanbag chairs, his little plastic chair from the basement, his Nemo blanket and an assortment of buses. He then piles them all up behind my husband and runs to get more. Once it is lit and the fireplace doors are closed and locked, he sets up his little area right in front of the hearth. It is sooooo cute to see him propped up on the chairs with a fuzzy blanket draped over his lap, feet up on the hearth and hands behind his head. Sometimes, if the planets are in line with the sun on the night of a full moon and the wind is blowing NNE and the coin toss shows heads and you do a little dance around in a circle chanting poetry, Bug Boy will sit WITH Bugaboo and cuddle with him. You know, like next to him. In the same room, even! As in, within their personal body space! I’m not kidding! I have proof!
I mean, can you believe it? THEY TOUCH! In the same room, even!
This weekend Mommy and Daddy went away to get some R&R and my sister and brother took turns watching the kids (and building fires). They didn’t burn the house down (thankfully, my brother is a fireman, police officer and EMT. Yes, he is an over-achiever, why do you ask?). Since it was a chilly sixty-five degrees yesterday, Bugaboo (naturally) wanted a fire. I was making a feeble attempt at cleaning my house and Bugaboo was walking along the hearth, back and forth, back and forth, patting the fireplace door, attempting to take the baby lock off. He suddenly jumped down, turned to the log pile and began stacking the pieces of wood, one by one. I was about to chase him off but decided to see what he was up to. ( I am glad I waited. There are very few moments like these!).
He stacked the wood in a neat little pile, ran to get his favorite blanket, grabbed the computer chair and dragged it over in front of the wood. There he sat, for fifteen minutes, waiting. And waiting. And waiting more. Every once in a while he got up and nudged it with his foot or turned and looked at me as if to say, “Mother? Is there some reason this wood will not spontaneously combust? I desireth a fire to warm my skin and calm my heart.” You know, because it was sixty-five outside. Brrrrr…