Imagination

We're going to be off the grid this weekend-we're visiting Micah's parents in Humboldt County-so I won't be able to publish until later in the week. I meant to put up just a brief post, but things got a bit out of hand, as you can see.

Lately--OK, for a long time now--I've been fascinated by Xander's imaginary play. It brings me back to my childhood when we'd put together cities, dream up intricate scenarios, and turn anything into something bigger and better than it actually was. (I remember spending what seemed like hours looking down into our stand-up humidifier, my hair blowing as I watched the brown, plastic, wicking conveyor belt slowly move into the pool of water at the bottom of the machine and then reemerge to evaporate and cool the room. I stuck little plastic army men into the conveyor belt and watched them as they explored an imaginary jungle river, deep in South America.)

Starting from a pretty early age, Xander has been telling stories (out loud) with his cars. Even before spoke in sentences, his cars would act out scenarios. Typically they took this form:
Little blue car: [on floor, with urgency] "Mommy, Mommy!"
Red fire engine: [on toy box] "Baby?"
Little blue car: [more urgent]: "Mommy!!MOMMY!"
Red fire engine: [moving down to floor, reassuringly] "Baby."
Little blue car: [releived] "Mama."
[Cars kiss.]
End Scene
Later, he started acting out scenarios from the park--kids not sharing, being scared of the side. Now the stories are exponentially more complex, and he brings in words and concepts that I know we didn't teach him. (It's amazing what sponges they are at this age, and a good reminder to watch what we say.) 
Everything these days is decorated with imagination. Our bike ride to school involves multiple red lights, train crossings, at least one flat tire or pit stop for gas, and the rocket blast-off (counting down the garage door numbers on an apartment building). Brushing teeth involves getting the sugar bugs ("I can get the big ones, but you need to get the small ones. They are too small. They hide.") And the daily BM involves anthropomorphizing the results. (Look a mommy poop, a daddy poop and two baby poops!)

Garage doors we bike by on our way to school. Nicely numbered 1 through 10,
thereby facilitating the bike-rocket blast off.

And just so you get a more accurate impression of our neighborhood,
here's what the street looks like just a few doors down from the apartment complex.
(We love our neighborhood and feel very lucky to have scored an affordable apartment here.)

Micah and I have learned to leverage this imagination for our benefit. (Where do you think the idea of sugar bugs came from?) Most recently, I used an elaborate ploy to get him (Xander, not Micah) out of the bathtub into p.j.'s. I will spare you the details, but it involved George the sad towel who just wanted to hug Xander, Sally pull-up, and three competing footed PJ's who jumped around anxiously asking to be worn by Xander.
Watching his imaginary play has made me realize how much I miss having that creativity in my day-to-day life.

To conclude, a long, but sweet video of Xander discussing the train tracks he built with his friend Teddy last Saturday.