Ms. Mirel started the cry when saying goodbye to Elliot, and said how much she will miss him. She is from Philadelphia (Montgomery County), not far from where I grew up, and is returning there to teach at her mother’s preschool.

June 2, 2022. Last day of The Purple Room at the Garden Preschool. Graduation ceremony for the Blue Room (children one year older than Elliot). Elliot’s class, the Purple Room, sang the Alphabet Song and another song — in Hebrew. It may have also been the alphabet; I could not hear it very well.

Elliot has really taken to a mouse stuffed animal. Maybe it’s because we buried a dead mouse today. He’s been carrying it around, talking to it, playing with it. The last time he had this much interest in a stuffed animal was the masosaur from the Jurassic World exhibit a few months ago.

At the block party today, he was playing with the neighborhood children. After a time, he asked me to get “Mousey”. I went inside, and he followed right behind me.

While retrieving it, I was a little sad for him because I knew the other children would not care about his Mousey. But he has to discover the world on his own. I did not say anything.

Sure enough, the children had no interest. Luca tried to get his puppy dog to eat it, that’s about it. Then they all continued playing hide and seek, with Elliot carrying Mousey around.

When we came inside for the evening, Elliot hugged me and said, “No one cares about Mousey.”

“I know, Elliot. I saw. I’m sorry. It’s your special toy. Sometimes friends aren’t excited about the same things we’re excited about. That’s ok. You stay excited about Mousey anyway. It’s your special toy.”

We planted pumpkin seeds this morning, and Elliot insisted on waiting for them to grow into pumpkins. We lay in the “furniture tent” and waited, listening to the crickets, bugs, birds, and other sounds. In pointed out the mourning dove call. But he did not know which bird sound I meant, so I played it on YouTube on my phone. Then we waited and listened. We heard them a few minutes later. We both remarked how beautiful the sound is.

We also buried another mouse today. We have not done that since last summer, i think. Elliot wanted to dig the hole but could not. When I took the shovel and started doing it, he said how strong I am. We said the mourners Kaddish and wished him well.

UPDATE: at the end of the day, Elliot asked to look at the pumpkin patch again to see if they are growing. We took a look. I told him it will be a few months. He said, “yeah maybe 5 months!!” But he has no concept of time yet. Anything in the past is “yesterday”, even if it was last summer. Anything in the future is “tomorrow”.

Ellliot does not like to share his toys which I get is normal sometimes. But he takes it really far. He will tell me he does not want to play with the other children anymore and walks away, only because he does not want to share his toys. He will say “I want to play with you, daddy” because he does not want to share. I did not know if I should do anything or try to persuade him or just let it be. I try to persuade him but don’t know if that’s the right thing to do.

So yesterday, we went to the dollar store and bought 6 water guns. Then we drove to the indoor frog pool. We started shooting each other in the pool, using just two guns. Then I started shooting a strange boy to engage him and show elliot how to play with strangers. The boy liked it and I offered him one of our water guns. His friends also wanted to play & all of a sudden we were playing with 4 other boys for 2 hours. Just by sharing.

Afterwards, elliot told me how much fun he had. I said, “see what can happen if you share your toys? Those boys played with us because we shared”, etc, etc. trying to drive it home. But he started talking about something else right away. Not sure if it registered. I brought it up once more in bed, before sleep, with the same outcome.

This was also the first time Elliot went on the water slide at the frog pool. He LOVED it. I mean absolutely loved it. He was finally tall enough. He and I went down a water slide once together last august, over Labor Day weekend at Mt. Princeton hot springs. He was pretty scared that time. Not this time, and he went alone.

The most rewarding thing about being a father is how Elliot teaches me, through his wonder and amazement of the ordinary, to see the sacred in the mundane.

Everything is new for him. Everything is fresh and a wonderful to behold, even the roly-poly crawling across the driveway..

I love his round, smooth, protruding, hairless belly.

Elliot calls it “The Tent” and remembers it from the Cordillera house, when he was a baby. He has been asking me to set it up for a while now.

Last week. I was on the phone. Elliot started to play with the toys on and under the coffee table. He made up stories, made sound effects. Really playing. I recognized some of the sounds as similar to Max’s play sounds.

When I got off the phone, Elliot said, “Daddy, I’m playing by myself!”

This was the first time I can remember him playing by himself except for perhaps one short instance a few weeks ago.

It is a big step! Previously, I had to play with him or he would not play with toys at all. I praised him and hugged him. I told him he is growing up, becoming more independent. He smiled and was definitely proud.

I remember this time last year, he was still in diapers. We were working on getting rid of the pacifier and milk bottle (the pacifier was easier). But he could not be left alone at all. He would cry if left alone in a room, then run to find me. He would not be alone at all, ever. If I went to the bathroom, he had to be there. It was difficult at times, but I knew it would change.

Now the change is here. He can be left alone when I go into another room, although I don’t think he likes it. He still wants me there when he uses the toilet, although he sometimes tells me to leave the bathroom while in the middle of pooping.

And he is playing with toys by himself!

Last week, Elliot and I were at a friends’ house, Maya, for Sagi’s birthday. Maya started talking with her aunt over FaceTime and that is when Elliot asked to talk to Mara. It was cute. I was confused because I never call her “Aunt Mara”, I call her “Chocha Mara” (Polish for Aunt) so I was surprised to learn that Elliot knows Mara is his aunt.

Every morning before getting into the car for preschool, Elliot asks if he can cut me a flower. Even in winter. So he takes the clippers and cuts one. Last fall he was cutting tiny little flowers for me, but ever since then he cuts dead ones because that’s all we’ve had. He brings me the flower. I thank him profusely, kiss him, buckle him into his car seat, and put the flower on my dashboard. There they collect for weeks or months.

Today he cut a giant, beautiful, pink peony. We’ve been smelling them and admiring them and their white neighbors for the last week or so. He’s been observing and commenting about them, smelling them with me. We call them “friends” like we do all plants. And Elliot became very surprised by how some were buds one morning and then had bloomed by that evening. He also saw how they close up at night or in the rain, and asked me why. I could not answer.

Well, Elliot cut one of these beautiful peonies before I could tell him to stop and to cut a dead flower instead. But it’s ok since we’re getting a strange snow storm (May 20, 2022) that will kill them. I practiced patience and did not say anything except my usual “thank you! i love you, thank you so much!” And put it on the dashboard.

In the evenings, I put a filter, coffee, and water into the coffee maker so that in the morning, I only have to turn on the machine to prepare it.

Elliot watched me do this for a long time, and then one day some months ago he asked to do it himself. I put him on the counter, gave him the filter, a spoon, coffee, and mugs of water. Of course, the coffee and water spilled every where. But I encouraged him anyway, and allowed him to make a mess. He got a little better over time. He still can make a mess, but not as bad, and he gets such joy out that I love watching him do it. I try not to help. And I fill the mug only half-way so it’s not as heavy.

This is not a photo of him preparing the coffee. It’s the morning. I’d already drank the coffee. Elliot wanted to make more, but I said I did not want anymore. He could make green tea for me instead. The tea is a powder that he likes to prepare and sometimes taste. So he poured the powder in the mug. I filled the pitcher and showed him how to boil it, and then I poured the water into the mug. He stirred and stirred and stirred – I don’t think I’ve ever had powdered tea so well-mixed!

He gets such joy out of doing these things for me. I love it.

Here is a video of this. I’m referencing a Sesame Street clip that he likes. Actually, it’s a series of clips where Grover is a waiter that Elliot likes (the first one we watched Alphabet Soup and Elliot had to try Alphabet soup after that – he could not believe such a thing really exists). In this particular clip, Grover is a waiter at a coffee shop and the customer orders coffee. Grover gets the freshest coffee (from a coffee bush), freshest milk (from a cow), and freshest sugar (from sugar cane) which just annoys the customer.

Elliot still does “homework” every night with me, reading words. He’s learned something like 17 or so. Last night he asked me to teach him “catch”, to make a flash card for it. Why catch? I have no idea.

Elliot keeps asking if he can turn 5 tomorrow to have another birthday party.

Cutting me flowers….mushrooms in the yard…. playdate with Liam at his house before the Log BaOmer party. In the video, you can hear Elliot calling the mushrooms our “friends”, something that we call plants and trees. He also wants to smell the mushrooms. Do mushrooms have a smell?

He also loved playing with the goats, riding the ponies, playing with his best friend Schmueli, and going on the slides and bouncy castle.

He told me Schmueli is his best friend. Unfortunately, Schmueli is a year older and starting kindergarten at DAT in August. He’s not returning to Garden Preschool for Elliot’s last year.