Hoppity Hoppity Hop.

I spent a quiet afternoon recently watching Brogan play by himself in the backyard. I've come to realize that he is an introvert. He likes to be around others, but not necessarily involved with them. Last week, at a friend's house, a wild pack of 6 children raced, screamed, and played in their backyard. Brogan sat quietly off to the side of the mayhem and dug in the dirt. He was happy and content, imagining something exciting happening there in the dust with him. After awhile, one of the older kids came to dig too. She's 12, and something of an introvert herself. She walked over and sat beside Brogan, grabbed a nearby stick, and began digging. They never really spoke or even looked at each other, but just enjoyed working together in silence.

This Christmas Brogan was very sick. My sister had returned home from her study abroad experience in Hungary, and Brogan had really looked forward to seeing her. (Mallory's always been his favorite. Shhhhh! It's a secret!) When she was home, though, Brogan got sick and it was all he could do to simply stay awake. On her first day back, she sat on her bed playing with her new laptop computer, and Brogan lay next to her on the bed being feverish. I don't know if they talked much, or even if he was awake the whole time. But later he said he had fun with her. He was happy just being in her company. She gives off good vibes.

So often I assume that Brogan is just like the other two boys. Colson and Braden love the company and conversation of others, and I have often thought that Brogan was the same. But as he gets older I realize that he's just wired differently. It's not him who needs to change. It M. and I that need to shift our expectations a bit.

In our backyard, Brogan plays on the fringes: in the sand and silt deposit along the edge of the property, in the tall grass/weeds that border our yard on either side. He'll skip along the perimeter of our yard, stopping every now and then to check out a rock, or an odd bug.



Watching Brogan in the backyard makes me think of the poem by Milne:

Hoppity

Christopher Robin goes
Hoppity, hoppity,
Hoppity, hoppity, hop.
Whenever I tell him
Politely to stop it, he
Says he can't possibly stop.

If he stopped hopping,
He couldn't go anywhere,
Poor little Christopher
Couldn't go anywhere...
That's why he always goes
Hoppity, hoppity,
Hoppity,
Hoppity,
Hop.