Welcome, Glamorous Ives

The milestones come at you sideways and from behind. For some reason, they always smack me in the back of my head. This business of witnessing a child’s work is better suited for those trained in detective work.

Recently, Winston has been using the moniker “Glamorous Ives” for his “performances. (These occur anytime two or more adults are gathered together and can watch whatever show he has devised for us.) Glamorous Ives is quite a character. He can sing, dance, do magic...including disappear!

Last night, Winston had me call his grandfather on the phone. He wanted to cut his hair. So, this morning, my Dad set up the appointment and met us at the shop.

It was a wonderful experience. The barber actually had envelopes on hand for me to catch his baby locks to “seal and put in the family bible.” (insert teardrop.) He listened to Winston’s ideas. And he cut just a tiny bit....then a tiny bit more...then a tiny bit more. Each time, Winston kept saying, “More. I want to see. I want to see my ears. I like the fancy design on the side of my face.”

Everyone was amazed at how well behaved he was. “How articulate this little man is!” “He sure knows his mind!” “This is my easiest first cut ever! He’s so co-operative!” On the way home, I explained to my father that this is Winston’s way. He thinks and evaluates and ponders something. Then he takes quick decisive action. He potty-trained himself the same way. One day he didn’t want a diaper. That was the day he was completely and fully potty trained. (Who could have known but a detective...and a psychic detective at that. I’m just the witness.)

So today I say, Good-bye sweet, androgynous baby! Good-bye curls! Hello boy! Welcome, “Glamorous Ives!