Our Quiet Giant

This is my second son, Kyle.

When it comes to this blog, he's kind of been "getting the shaft" lately. OK, so maybe "lately" is putting it lightly - more like this blogs' whole existence. (Up until now, only 2 posts are labeled, "Kyle")

It's not that I play favorites - believe me, I am a middle child and I VOWED to never do that....

It's just that he doesn't do that many stupid things like some others around here.

And he hasn't had a big, important birthday recently.

And he's not into taking "self-portraits."

And let's face it, he's not the baby (who rules our lives.)

So, for those reasons, he simply hasn't "made the blog" much. That's all about to change.

{But wait! Maybe that's his whole point - just lie below the radar! I'll have to think about that - maybe I'm assuming he'd like more "blog time" and he's just trying his darndest to avoid it! Hmmmm.}

Well, whether he likes it or not, I feel Kyle is definitely "Blog Worthy" - and here's why.

He's the one I call for ("Kyle, Help!") when the baby is melting down on the other side of the bathroom door when I'm "using the facilities" because I a) know that he will come when called and b) he can make the baby happy [distracted] enough to forget about me in the bathroom!

He's the one I can ask to do a job - and he'll do it! Sometimes even with a cheerful, "OK, Mom!"

This makes one wonder, maybe he's just really good at appearances? He may be rolling his eyes behind my back, growling inwardly, and wishing I'd leave him alone. Nah! Let me live in denial. I'll say most of the time he's ready & willing to help out.

He's very sensitive to and concerned about his sisters - especially the baby.
Quick story: Kyle volunteered to learn how to change diapers when Miss B was born and he would take care of it if I was tied up doing something else. Well, on one occasion...wait, let me insert a detail here...ya know when a baby's umbilical cord is going through the natural "rotting process" and it gets black and unsightly - and other stuff? Well, Miss B's cord was at that stage. So, on this one occasion, Kyle was changing her diaper and I hear him start crying in my room, so I go back there to see what was wrong.
"Look what happened to her!" he cried. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
I looked at Miss B and she seemed pretty fine to me laying there in her unsnapped onesie. "What's the matter?" I asked, confused.
"I didn't mean to. Is she going to die?" he wailed.
"What? Kyle, tell me WHAT." I pleaded.
"Why did I do THAT? Why did I do that? Oh no, Please no!" he continued.

Turns out, he saw her umbilical cord looking like it was and he was so afraid he had bumped it when lifting up her onesie and made it go like that. And because it was so grody looking, he thought the worse. He thought it was just the beginning of her whole body withering and dying. He was completely traumatized and heart broken to think he'd harmed her!
That's where the "GIANT" part of the title comes in.
I was so glad to be able to tell him he'd done nothing bad, that it was suppose to look like that. (After that he decided to take a break from diapers until the cord fell off completely, though!)

He doesn't scream around home much, doesn't punch/hit much, doesn't sass his parents much, doesn't bring negative attention to himself much - in fact, he doesn't talk much, period!
That's where the "QUIET" part of the title comes in.
CASE IN POINT: I went to his school for the 5th Grade's "Wax Museum" of people from the American Revolution. I thought we were just going there to LOOK - like the Maddam Trousseau's Wax Museums around the world. Imagine my surprise when it was MUCH MORE than that. My boy delivered a whole speech - memorized, and IN CHARACTER - in front of his peers and the crowd of spectators (gasp!) (He doesn't [like] doing that!) He never even told me he'd be reciting a part! Good thing I happened to bring my camera to the "Wax Museum" that day to document history in the making! (He spoke for an entire paragraph - or more) :)

But, he DOES get laughing...HARD! As in falls-out-of-his-chair laughing. It's great.

He's one I want to have around when I get stranded on an island when my plane goes down in the ocean and I have to swim to land - did I just say that I would swim? (I just watched the movie, Rescued, OK? Pretty poor acting, BTW) so he can start me a fire, and we'd survive.

It is fun to watch him play sports.Here he is on 3rd Base after hitting a triple the other night.

(I completely missed getting a photo of the hit - dang camera delay! He was outta there by the time I got the shot).

But now the "Rec" season is over (boo, hoo!) Good thing we've got All-Stars coming up so we can still see him play more games.

He is a "self-starter" (and completer) on homework and gets up and makes his bed and dresses each day without reminding/hounding/ordering.

But, he does have a problem with staying out of the Redi-Whip in the fridge when I am saving it for a Special Occasion! Grrrr! :)

I TRUST him totally with tending my girls - more than other babysitters who are a year or two (or three or four years) older than he. Because he "gets them" and he LOVES them - OK, maybe he just tolerates them!

Which brings me to my next thought - he should get automatic Sainthood for being in charge of making sure his sister gets to and from school everyday [by foot or on bike]. He stays calm (only sometimes shakes his head and sighs) and he sticks with her through her crying, screaming, refusing to move, hitting, ranting, tardiness, and any other behavior she sees fit to torture him with. (He must be his father's son!)

He's ready for adventure.

He's good to "go along for the ride."

He's got "Bedtime Integrity." He knows when his bedtime is and he goes to bed at that time. He doesn't "forget" or wait to be told. Basically, if he doesn't get IN his bed at that time [when his body's tired], he'll just fall asleep wherever he is, anyway, so he might as well be comfy IN bed.
He's a little walking Sports Encyclopedia. I'm sure the #23 he put on his Easter Egg signifies some athlete. In fact, he could tell you ALL the players who have ever worn that number, past & present.

Sometimes when he tells me something I think is really funny, and I laugh, he'll ask, "Are you gonna put that on the blog?" I'm not sure if he's asking in hope or in fear! If it's the latter, he's going to be mortified by this post! :)