Trevor is not styling. His hair is usually sticking up somewhere, either in the back in true bed head fashion, or at his forehead where he was blessed with a serious cowlick. He dresses himself every day, and he almost always matches, but sometimes he doesn't. He tells on himself when he passes gas saying, "Excuse me, I tooted". Not cool, though I gotta give him props for the manners. Sometimes he falls down for no apparent reason, and Jayme says he has the Andreson head which, in our particular clan of Andresons, means its a melon. He talks an inordinate amount. I mean, really, we have had cause for concern. You may have know of The Never Ending Story as a book, or movie from the eighties. We know of the Never Ending Story as Trevor telling us...anything. It can be a lot to take.
So, is Trevor cool? Absolutely. He is not cool like the Fonz. I mean. He can't fist pound a juke box and make music play, that we know of. (He has never tried.) He is cool the way he notices little things. Like tonight when he was riding his Spiderman bike with the blue training wheels, and he was staring at the ground shouting, "Watch out roly poly!!!!!!!". I looked and saw the tiniest little pill bug by his back tire. I told him how important it is to keep his eyes on what's in front of him when he is riding his bike, and he told me that is not more important than the roly poly bug. "He lives outside, you know Mom? Outside is where we are now, so I am riding my bike in his home. I just can't ride over him." That's a cool perspective for a four year old.
It's cool how Trevor sees everyone as his best friend. When I ask him who his friends are at school he says, "Everyone is my friend. I love everyone." Sometimes he tells me stories about Regan not playing with him, or Dylan making a mean face at him. I get sad, but he just smiles. "It's OK, I just love them anyway". So cool to be able to love like that.
Trevor's imagination is cool. At bedtime tonight Taryn put his stuffed animal monkey up under the back of his shirt where it became trapped. Trevor did two things. First, he laughed uncontrollably at how "tickly" it felt, and second he said, "Thanks for the jet-pack, Taryn", and proceeded to blast around his bed until I could body slam him onto the mattress for bedtime. As a side note, he is currently sleeping with a panda in the front of his shirt and the monkey in the back, just because he never tried sleeping like that before. Cool.
I think Trevor is as cool as any kid I have ever known. He is brave enough to try new things, and honest when he makes a mistake. He is obedient, and smart with just the right amount of mischief mixed in. You know, enough to make him a fun little guy to be around, but not so much that we have to keep him on a leash in the airport. He makes great facial expressions to make his stories come alive, and since the stories are, well, never ending, the expressions help. I could go on and on, and I would like to think that all mothers could. We are raising cool kids. Cool in all different ways, by all different definitions of the word. They ooze with passion, drama, love, talents, quietness, humor, or thoughtfulness beyond measure...all of which make them each cool in their own way.
In real life "cool" doesn't wear a leather jacket or drive a convertible. Cool is Trevor, just being who he is.
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