Puppy Love

My sons are in love. I didn't expect this moment to come so soon, seeing as they are 6 and almost 4. But hearts are on fire in our house, and they keep burning and burning with no end in sight. Their puppy love is no casual, capricious thing. It is absolutely serious and steadfast.

For Reeve, it began sometime last fall when we began to hear her name. Anna. When he said it loud, it was music playing; soft, it was almost like praying. We didn't know Anna; she was new to his class this year. Had he imagined her? She was never there when I picked Reeve up from school. Was she a character in a book? But soon his teachers too were advising us, "You need to make a playdate with Anna! They have such fun together." They showed me her picture. She had bright eyes, a spirited smile, reddish brown hair. The weekly class photos started to include many of Reeve with this Anna -- together on a school bus built for two on the playground, dancing side by side to Morah Debbie's guitar. At last we met her one afternoon, a sprite in a blue jacket with matching blue hat, chatting enthusiastically as she raced out the door with her babysitter - in Russian. Reeve's Anna didn't speak English! This posed no obstacle to their devotion. Reeve's father noted the universality of the language of love.

It is now February, and their relationship has grown and matured. Reeve has enjoyed two playdates with Anna, and we've had the delight of getting to know her lovely family. Anna and Reeve now speak English together. Reeve's favorite color has changed dramatically from red to green, which you might guess is Anna's favorite. Recently he made a mosaic picture frame for her photo so he can gaze at Anna at home. Over after-school hot cocoa the other day, Reeve explained to Duncan, "I worry about Anna, and Anna worries about me." At Anna's birthday party, Reeve sought grown-up intervention, "Anna needs help! Anna needs help!" when twisty-ties frustrated the birthday girl's effort to liberate a toy from its packaging. The teachers, once on their side, have now asked us to refrain from sending two green apples in Reeve's lunch box, one for Anna, in the interest of encouraging play with other kids as well. They've separated the two for quiet time so they will rest instead of gazing at each other.

Duncan is cultivating the big-kid habit of privacy about his affections, which we mistook for lack of developments. But after months of listening to Reeve talk about Anna, he admitted he had a special friend too. We had heard that various girls at his school enjoyed his company, and he's had one special girl friend since his pre-school years, a friendship that remains strong and important to him. But since Duncan started Kindergarten, we heard mostly about chess, the bus, Angry birds, parasha (Biblical) stories, his phonics workbooks, how to count by fives to one thousand, hot lunch, in other words, the kinds of typical school things parents hope to hear about. Jordy and I have often sighed in relief that his social life moved at a pace familiar to us from our own childhoods. We didn't remember all this loving and pairing up until our fourth grades at the earliest.

But it wasn't so. A few weeks ago Duncan casually let drop, "You know how Reeve has Anna? I have someone like that too." Duncan received a letter home that many will never receive in a life time. It was a manifesto of love: "Did you know I love you? And that I am in love with you? And that I love you very much?" It was decorated with rainbows and hearts. He showed it to his parents and Magdalena proudly and keeps it in his room.

Valentine's Day preparations were serious business in this house. Scissors swishing, glitter glue gooing, markers in young ladies' favorite colors marking. Reeve made two Valentines, both green of course. Duncan's was an elaborate collage that studiously avoided pink, which his beloved does not like (a preference he finds "cool"). In the interest of avoiding hurt feelings, Duncan's school does not observe Valentine's Day, presenting a delivery crisis. The Valentine would have to be delivered off hours. He begged me repeatedly to contact her mother for a playdate, going so far as to leave me a note on the counter simply stating her name. So I called her family, but the number in the school directory was mistakenly switched with another family's; in my distraction, I almost invited Ezra for a playdate to deliver a Valentine, which his parents might have been cool with, but realized just in time and hung up. No email was listed, so I had to track the mom down through Facebook. I am tracking my son's love interests down through Facebook!

They have a playdate scheduled for Friday. On the subway to school this morning I asked Duncan if he'd rather have her to our house or go to hers -- her mom was fine either way. His first answer was, "My house." Then he thought about it. "Why don't I ask her which she would prefer?" My little gentleman.

I told Tucker this morning that there will be no romantic attachments for at least two more years, except of course with his old Mama.