That Reece

Reece's speech therapist told me a funny story yesterday.  At school, Reece has therapy 3 times a week and is usually pulled with one of his buddies.  Well, they've been getting a little too silly together, so Mrs. Dana decided to pull Reece and a different little boy who is in K3.  According to her this little boy has a lot of speech issues.  She said the K3 student was telling her all about his brother's baseball game and just talking away.  Across the table she could see Reece really paying attention to him.  After the boy finished his story, Reece looks at Mrs. Dana, points at the little boy with his thumb and says "This kid must speak Spanish."  Whatever is in that brain comes out of that mouth.  All he knew is that he couldn't understand a word the little boy was saying!
Tonight at bedtime we read Harold Goes to Space.  Afterward, Reece wants to know if we really can go to space and hop on planets.  So, I had to explain that going to space wasn't like going to Disneyworld; you have to go to school and learn how to go to space.  He then informs me that if he were in space he wouldn't fall down to the ground because his boots would help him float.  At first I thought he was talking about some special gravity boots he would get, but then I realized he was talking about his "boots" he wears every day.  Melted my heart a little.
Because he is so obsessed with sports at the moment (football, baseball, basketball EVERY day, MULTIPLE hours a day), I have been toying with getting him onto some type of sports team.  If you remember, soccer was a bust a couple of years ago because he was so afraid of being knocked down.  Admittedly, sports scare me and Nick for a couple of reasons.  We worry about him getting down on himself if he can't do it just right the first time, and we worry about the embarrassment he may feel should he fall down while playing.  It's funny how we don't worry about him getting hurt.  We're more concerned with his little heart and spirit.  I guess casts, broken bones, and scars are all old hats for us.  After watching him for the past two weeks with grandmothers and aunts after school and a weekend of continuous begging for me and Nick to play various ballgames with him, I did some research this afternoon.  A few months ago, I had looked into the Challenger baseball league for him.  I had missed the deadline to sign him up.  Today, I looked at the YMCA website, and then ran across First Baptist of Jackson's summer camp listings.  Flag football, VBS basketball, (MANNERS) camp... I knew he was going to at least one (ok, I probably won't get him in the manners one, but geez the lack of those with his eating is driving me crazy).  He and I talked about it, and without us even mentioning our fears he wanted to know which one he might get knocked down in.  I told him that there was a possibility he could get knocked down in either of them, but flag football might be a little riskier.  He thought about it, we watched some YouTube videos, and he decided he really wanted to do basketball.  So, before I thought too long about it (or missed the deadline), I registered him for half-day basketball camp at FBCJ.
Haha!  I just realized a potential battle I may have every morning- "Mama, can I wear my Grizzlies jersey to camp?"  Considering the fact that it comes to his ankles,  I don't think it would be very practical, but I guarantee it will be an argument we have.  Just like the "Why can't I wear my basketball jersey for my pajamas?" argument we had tonight after bathtime.

With love,
Beth