Otto Fox Wilder
There comes a time in every rightly consructed boy's life when he has a raging desire to go somewhere and dig for hidden treasure. - Mark Twain
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swimmers!
Have you ever wanted to cry when you saw your children accomplish something that seemed kind of almost impossible to you but then as you watched them do it you were kind of in awe at their ability and you wondered why you had never expected them to do that before? This week. Swim lessons. That was me. I don’t mean sad tears. I mean – like really excited for someone you love happy tears. There was my girl, standing at the pool’s edge, arms stretched out over her head, hands across one another with adorable form and an intense and hopeful little look on her freckly summer face. She…
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misunderstanding is the funniest
The best conversations happen in the car. We are driving along, discussing names for future pets. (It’s what we do.) And we all keep shouting out ideas. “Huckleberry. Atticus. Dash. Lazarus. Seven.” (That last one is from me. I really want to name some animal Seven.) And then someone in the front seat suggests, “Ebenezer”. This adorable Otto voice arises from the backseat. Lots of laughter. “No, guys. That’s silly. Who would ever want to call a dog Ebenezer?” He’s choking out the words, he’s laughing so hard. We all sort of wait for his laughter to settle down. “Why is that so funny? Ebenezer is an okay name.” “No,”…
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when I misjudged his intentions.
“Momma, where are you?” The question of the day. It’s the six year old walking grin asking this time. When he can’t hear my answer, he asks it louder. And continues to ask. And I finally shout from my location – the bathroom – “Son, I am in the bathroom!” We are all changing from our swimsuits into our dry clothes and he keeps asking, “Mommy – where are you?” He can’t hear me. I say it again. And again. Louder. Not in a super kind mom voice. You know the one I mean? And then – this six year old gentleman finds me. “Hey, Mommy,” he says through the…
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here I am, son.
They sit on me. Lean against me. Wiggling. Twitching. Tapping. Head lolled against my shoulder. My boys. Some days I am struck by their vastly increased hands-on neediness. My sons are much touchier than my girls. They need me differently. Some days (all days) I am convinced that my ten year old would literally crawl into my skin and take up permanent residence if he was given the option. A steady question on his lips – “Where are you? What are you doing? Will you be here when I come back?” Listen to me, son. I’ll be here. Lean your head back on my shoulder. I’m not going anywhere.
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Oh Otto – you are such a boy.
It’s those sturdy legs. Calf muscles bulging. I like hiking behind my Wilde Otto Fox. He walks with a legitimate swagger and he is only five years old. Yes, yes. Of course I am partial to this kid. That’s what we mothers do. It’s how the world is supposed to work. You pick your children and you like them best. It’s like – the law of mothering or something. But I really do think Otto Fox is a kind of swell kid. He’s at the age where he is extra funny. His inflection combined with his enunciations combined with the sweet tone of his voice at this stage and suddenly…
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Interview: Otto Fox Wilder
Otto – do you want to do an interview? I like to go fishing. I like climbing. And. Um. I like playing. And I like – dadadadada – I like Cereal Sundaes and ice cream and chocolate chips and I like birds and I like animals. That’s all. Awesome. Son – I like you! hehehe What do you like about our house? It haves a big field. There are grasshoppers that live in it and all kinds of bugs – like praying mantises. Why do you like bugs so much? Because I like catching them. What do you do with them? I let them go. Otto – what kind of…
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Otto can wear whatever shoes he wants. And I’ll tell you why.
In case you’ve lost track, we have six children. Our sixth child, our youngest son, at five, has been lately addicted to a pair of shoes we purchased at the last minute for a wedding he was in. A pair of black slip on shoes that are not my personal style for my child and are not anyone’s personal style to be worn with camo shorts. And yet. He does. Nearly every departure from our home will find Otto Fox in an ensemble that includes comfort clothes and black fake leather slip on shoes. He calls them his “inside shoes”. His inside shoes that he insists on wearing outside…
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My Last Five Year Old.
I love five. Otto Fox carries it so well. From the proud wearing of his mismatched shoes to his true affection for all bugs and tiny crawling creatures. From his crusty band-aid residue-stained knee caps to his bright blue eyes. I love the way he walks into a room and says, “Hi Mom. I love you more than a hundred million thousand piles of dirt.” I love the way he cheers for life and embraces the ordinary moments. “Mom – can I have a peanut jelly sandwich?” And when I say “yes” he fist pumps the air and shouts for happiness. And he means it. I love the way he…
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why I cry now at weddings.
Last weekend we attended a wedding. Both Bearer of the Ring and Tosser of the Flowers bore the Keigley namesake. It’s funny how age changes everything. (I do mean everything. Shape. Proportions. Patience. Tolerance. Ability to run fast.) But age does change other things too – like perspective. And perspective shifts and morphs and shapes you. I used to spend the wedding time watching the bride and the groom. Now I find myself looking to the mothers. Mother of the bride. Mother of the groom. I cannot help myself. It’s whom I am identifying with these days. I watch the sibling snapshots. I see the tears build up in the…
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The Tale of Two Siblings
These two Keiglets have a special little bond. Many is the morning that I find them reclining on the sofa together, London reading books out loud to her little brother. London keeps a list of daily activities and ideas on a dry erase board she has in her bedroom. (She’s a natural-born planner, apparently those genes are strong.) One day I noticed her list went something like this: Play Legos. Water my garden. Bake scones. Bathe Otto. When I asked her why she felt the need to add a cleansing routine for her young brother to her list, she responded, “When we were cuddling last night – I noticed he smells bad.”…
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a video: off the charts cute
Your browser does not support the video tag Otto Fox is a boy who gets attached to certain songs. Currently – it’s “Switzerland” by The Last Bison. I can’t get enough of the expressions and enunciation when he sings this song. All eighty times each day.
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mixing it up.
Musically speaking, what’s happening in our home? Otto Fox was trooping through the kitchen yesterday, boots on, matchbox car in hand. He began singing enthusiastically to himself: “Do you want to build a snowman? NO THANKS! I’m talking to the man in the mirror!”
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just because, you know.
I just like looking at him.
