HARLEM GLOBETROTTERS

Sekani with buddy, Amiri, at the Portland Rose Garden after watching The Harlem Globetrotters. I'd like to report that he loved it, but Daddy had to take him for a walk outside the arena when we first got there. He was a bit overwhelmed; noisy, crowded, and the-guy-inside-a-giant-ball-that-rolled-around-mascot, was a monster that was to be avoided at all costs. Post game, he had a grand time playing "basketball team" with Amiri.

Office in the Sky

Sekani told me a story yesterday morning. It went a little something like this:

"There's an office in the sky," he announces.

Tell me about it.

"You go to it because they get hurt. When they fly, they get hurt on the ground. Sometimes they ride on the plane to get there."

Have you been there?

"I got hurt on the street and took a plane to get up there."

Who's up there?

"A turtle."

How does the turtle help people?

"Read a book."

About what?

"Angels. Then I feel better."

How did you get down?

"I took another plane, Mom."

Where did you land?

(He laughs.) "The plane landed. (Duh Mom.) At Siddha's house (a friend) and then I came here."

Space

"I need some space," Sekani says, as he senses me peering over his shoulder while he pulls the cotton off a gaggle of Q-tips.  I knew I'd hear these words at some point. As much as I love forcing my kisses and snuggles upon him whenever I want, this phrase was a sweet melody to my ears. Smiling, I had his school, ChildRoots, to thank. He attends two days a week. This is a photo of his magical classroom with loft and hanging parasols.

Word Play

I think Sekani has a new favorite word or at least one that he has been trying out a lot lately in relation to time. The word is "becoming." "Is it becoming night time?" "Is it becoming too night time?" "Is it becoming morning?"  "I'm becoming three." "It's becoming late."  And often when it is becoming bed time, he informs us with all intensity and raised eyebrows, "I'm busy right now. I'm really busy," as he runs in the opposite direction of the staircase.

Mornings

Two months shy of being a three year old, Sekani climbs out of his bed at 7am announcing, "I'm ready for some oatmeal." Bright eyed and bushy haired, he is busy moving his chair to climb up to see what's on the counter and what he can grab from the refrigerator. "I want some rice milk." And I watch cautiously as he gets his cup and pours. No spills this time. Phew. As we blow on the oatmeal, he takes a handful of cashews and raisins, and reassures me that he wants "too much."