Friday, May 06, 2016

Curious Guy and Shy Guy

It's update time!


Noah is really into asking about my favorites. Not like as a followup to me first asking him about his favorites - just as a random opening conversation question. It's weird to me because Judah never once asked me what my favorite anything is. Judah is definitely more passive and Noah more active when it comes to finding out about the world.

Every day Noah asks things like:

Mommy, what's your favorite color?
What's your second favorite color?
Sky Blue
What's your third favorite color?
*seriously, my third one?* Magenta
What's your fourth favorite color?
*what the heck is wrong with this kid?!* Uh...Grass Green

Sometimes he asks what my favorite animal is.
Or my favorite number.
Or ice cream flavor.

Today he asked me my favorite shape.

I replied - Circle.

He said his favorite was a cube.

I was pretty sure he meant square.

But then he talked about the time we made cubes out of toothpicks and marshmallows. Okay, you win Noah. I'm sorry I'm always underestimating your knowledge. You're still my baby!!!!


Judah is so shy it's kind of unbelievable. Except I totally believe it because it's EXACTLY me.

As a kid I used to wait until everyone was out of the house - then I'd put on my special dancing outfit (pink long t-shirt pajama tied with my mom's pink bathrobe tie) and put on techno music and dance my heart out.

And then the other week I put on some dance music and watched Judah start grooving for a second only to freeze and say - Mommy, I'm embarrassed. I love dancing but I don't want to do it in front of you.


I've always hated being ashamed of my self-expression - what's the good of dancing and singing if you can't do it WITH others? So I tried my best to coax Judah out of his shyness. And with the help of Taylor Swift, before I knew it, we were twirling around the playroom doing all kinds of made up "real" moves - twirl, spin-around, break-apart, under my legs!

It made me feel redeemed.

But Judah's still too shy to sing his made-up songs in front of me. Instead, the most I can get him to do is take my smartphone to a secluded room, record the song by himself, and then hand me the device while he goes back to hide in said secluded room as I listen to the song he just recorded.

For that one function alone, I'm glad I got a smartphone.

It's filled with the fingerprints of his soul - a barely braved whisper of his true self.

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