Flower Fortune- Sweetbriar: Poetry and fragrance.

I'm sorry I've been so long in adding the second entry to my series about the children: but taking care of all of them (when their father is at work, Rev adds his own Biddy to the brood, and the fact that I'm used to having at least their naptime to myself) has made me exhausted. Usually I can handle their curiosity, their imaginative stories, their messes. When all six are at home together, however, their actions and interactions become time consuming. Plus, Oliver has just turned four, and even though the party wasn't extremely large, it took a lot out of me. And Rev tells me that my house smells of metallic wind. I'll have to work on it.

But Tuck, Christian Tucker, can always make me laugh.
Little Tuck, lighter in color, a little less freckled than his twin brother, is not a follower. Though they say that there is a tendancy for one twin to dominate, it has never been the case with my boys. Tuck is a little milder, a little more laid back; the one who can easily forgive. Though he will not be the first to his younger siblings' defence, he will be the first to comfort them. When Gabe accidentally broke Tuck's favorite action figure and started to cry, Tuck came right to his rescue. "Don't worry, Gabe, I can fix it. I'm good at fixing things. And you broke the yellow part, and I hate yellow so it doesn't matter."
Tuck doesn't mind different routines; he is not thrown off by trivial matters that can make other children anxious. He does not conform to his environment conciously; it is more of an effortless slide from one situation to another. He is open to difference and variety in life, and for this, I respect my little six year old.

Tuck loves food and music. Unlike every single one of my other children, Tuck will finish whatever is on his plate. And perhaps what is on his siblings' plates as well. He is a gangly little fellow (both of the twins are), and whenever he hears music, his eyes light up and he either starts to dance or sits down to listen. Sometimes, I'll catch him watching the music channels on the television; the black screen or a picture of the artist staring back at him. It is an unwritten rule that Tuck helps pick out the music for whatever gathering we happen to have. Though he does not know the importance of this cultural acceptance of food and music, I find that this makes him intellectually superior to his other friends.

He, however, would never know the difference. Sometimes I find myself talking to him as if he were thirty years old instead of six. Once in awhile, he will get confused by something I've said to him, and he will look up at me with humorous eyes. "Mum?" he'll ask, and I'll shake my head and laugh, "Ah, nothing, little Tuck. I've forgotten you're not full grown yet." Unlike Christopher, he won't take offense if I say this to him.

Tuck is more visual than my other children. He likes books with pictures, books with visual confirmation. He thrives on this visual confirmation. There is a large coffee table book in our foyer downstairs with slick, shiny paper that is full of castles in Scotland. I received it when I was eighteen and pregnant with Oliver: a friend gave it to me because she knew I liked adventure. "You'll visit all of these one day," she promised. Tuck has inherited this sense of adventure, this want to see everything the world has to offer. He flips through these pictures constantly, and now and again reads the descriptions. He randomly picks the five places he wants to visit and each time they are different. There are many smudges and stains on that book.

Though ultimately, Christopher and Christian are best friends, Tuck seems to have the most casual acquaintances at school. Every day, there seems to be a new story about a new child; a child who has now become a "friend." I have met many mothers on Tuck's behalf, only to never see them again. Tuck floats through friends like he floats through days; this is the one thing I hope he grows out of. He has no problems making relationships; it is just a wonder if he can keep any of them. Going into first grade may change this. Though they are not going to a different school, the two boys feel as if they are moving up on the social and intellectual scale. I let their heads get big about this. I want them to continue liking school and education.

In the future, I can imagine Tuck as a modern James Bond. Slick and laid-back, always on the search for adventure, always learning the lesson at the end of each dilemma. Harry once said that Tuck would be the one to get rich and take care of us when we are older. I agreed. Tuck's ability to seize and tame good luck seems to be one of his biggest virtues. He always takes advantage of something lucky; he always puts to good use whatever is handed to him. I find this admirable, but will have to explain it to him later.

In fact, as I finish up this little entry about my second oldest son, he patters in here with no shirt on and only pajama pants keeping him from the wind that rushes through the magic room window. I can't go to bed now, he's said, and so I let him sleep in this room amongst my books. The novel I'm reading now (a novel forced on me by a new neighbor who does not yet understand my book snobbery) is Water for Elephants and is not the type of book I would like to read to him to make him sleep.

I'll go get the castle book instead.
Pictures have their place in literature, too, I suppose.