The Moon

Izak is fascinated, fascinated with the sky. He can name it all - blue sky, night sky, stars, shooting stars, helicopter, airplanes, birds, geese, clouds (black, rain, white), rainbows, rain, hail, snow. But his favorite feature is the moon. He has a wonderful memory, so I've been teaching him the subtleties between the different types of moon. White moon, circle, crescent, wolf moon, blue moon, and the newest fascination, a harvest moon. His bedroom is on the east side of the house, with windows facing the perfect direction for a moon gazer. Since going to his big bed, I've had to grow used to the notion that just because he's in his room doesn't mean he's asleep. He loves to fiddle around with his CD player, listening to various discs that I've burned for him. (Had to take away Andrea Bocelli last week... Ave Maria being sung at full-force by a toddler is just not conducive to quiet moments.) When he's finally ready to turn in, he will turn of his CD player and quietly fall asleep. Just like that. He's a terrific boy.

Tonight Matt is out for the evening at a meeting. I put both kids down by 7:30p. I've been noticing that the moon is very full and bright the last few nights, and this has been of particular interest to Z. Once or twice I would open his door to see if he was asleep because his room was quiet, only to find him tucked under the shade and blinds, nose pressed to the glass. When he hears me enter he begins to explain, "See it? There's the moon. The big white moon. See it?"

Tonight I thought I would give him a treat and leave his shade and blinds up so he could watch the rise of the moon... but to my surprise, there was no moon to be seen at 7:30p. More to my disappointment than his, I'm afraid. I told him, "You can watch for it, but stay on your bed and listen to music." At 8:30p I went to check his quiet room. He was curled up at the head of the bed, fanny in the air, winding down to dreamland. From the angle I was standing at, I spied the coveted night prize rising behind a young maple in our neighbor's yard. "There it is! There's the moon! Look, Izak!" And I lifted him up to a stand to see the top of the moon in the east. "See? It was coming up, just later than Mommy thought." He began to whisper, "See it? There it is. The moon. A harvest moon." Sure enough, tonight had a beautiful orange sphere, slightly lop-sided, but rising to her place for my son to admire her. "You can watch the moon rise, just please stay on your bed. You may have to stand to see it, and hold the headboard like this (demonstrating), but don't fall. Enjoy, Buddy. I'll be back later."

At 9p I went up the stairs, expecting to find my little star gazer planted at his window sill. A harvest moon. What a temptation! Instead, the room was dark. He had drawn his blind down, and was curled up, sleeping. Too much light? Naw. But tonight Mommy was more excited about the night sky than he was. And that's when it dawned on me that time is passing, and my little one is growing out of babyhood. I covered him with the comforter and thanked God for my kind, gentle boy. For the gift of innocence that he readily shares with me. For his simplicity. For his winsomeness. And yes, for the moon.