Above are our Circus Boys, on their last day of circus classes. Tomi in particular had been dreaming of joining the circus ever since his first sighting of nouveau cirque. There are five vacation cycles in France, starting with ten days around All Saints Day, so we filled the first week with a circus initiation for 5-7 year olds which was brilliant (and which had a secondary effect of conking three of the four of us out at hours which this family has never before seen). By the way, Tomi is walking backwards on the low beam, there. Funny, the things we take for granted when we're older. It was really touching to watch them all "try, try, try, and try it again" - and also stunning to watch them come up with some of their ideas, when they were working in groups or pairs. Kids are absolutely amazing.Ah, and speaking of boys and dreams:
Ours began understanding the difference between dreams and reality a bit later than some, from the stories we've heard tell. But recently, they've been really into their dreams, and telling us about them. Sometimes, I suspect that they're telling us what they would have dreamed of, if they'd have had the choice. The other morning, though, I swished into their room just as Tomi woke up with a giggly laugh, saying, "Mmmm!" and then, as he came to, he mumbled, happily, "I was dreaming of chocolate!" There was a satisfied pause, and then, from the other bed, a happy little voice chirruped, "C'était quoi comme chocolat?! (What kind of chocolate was it?!)" and when Tomi didn't answer immediately, Leo said, "It was with milk in it? An' nuts?" Tomi never really did answer the question, nor did he have the time, because the idea of hot chocolate had already taken ahold of him, with the mention of a milk & chocolate combination. Suddenly, two little chocolate hounds were sprinting for the kitchen...
And then, this morning, I was in the bathroom when I heard the boys' door slowly creak open. I looked around the corner and saw a half-sleeping little Tomi, peeking out and saying, "Papa? Tu es là? Parce que je t'aime (Papa? Are you there? Because I love you)." I think he thought I was his daddy, so I said, softly, "Papa's in bed. You can go tell him..." He hugged me and whispered, "I dreamed of Daddy, and I wanted to tell him I love him." But by then, he was waking out of his dream-state, and got entangled in embarrassment, and never got around to telling his papa about it.
