These days, our discussions with Luke are busy, to say the least. He has questions and opinions about practically every fanciful thought that dances across his little mind, and he’s deeply engaged in having these things both voiced and resolved nearly immediately.
His methods are incredibly effective, because, in fact, repeating a question incessantly with nothing but the answer’s reply satisfying one seems to ignite the “I may go manic right now” trigger in my psyche. So pleasant, I am. Patience, I’m learning.
So we have many discussions discussing discursive discourse. Countless chats chatting about chat worthy chatter. Round and round we go, we hope something is penetrating that wondering mind of his, that barely hears a reply before he’s off to the next wonder of wonders. So much fascination with the world around him to inspire his imagination to grow.
Many mornings, as I fiddle away in the kitchen, I hear him quietly chatting away different scenarios in the next room. Different characters, friends, family, teachers, all converging on the set of Luke’s imagination, putting him in the seat of instructing, reminding, encouraging, helping, reprimanding, loving, feeding. There is quite a bit of feeding. In these moments, it feels like I get observe him sharing the things he’s taken in from the world around him. What he has digested from his surroundings, his understanding, his little heart, from us and other loved ones, is now being repackaged in Luke’s precious, raw, simple, cheerful, emotion filled way.
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