I’ve come to the conclusion that some children have a naturally higher energy level than others.

I’ve got a high-energy version, not surprisingly.

We spent Christmas with our friends Laura and Jordy, along with their two kids.  Laura and I like to talk about our kids (and husbands, and siblings, and relationships in general!).  For some reason we posed the thought experiment about how we’d cope if we swapped children for a while.  Laura’s children have little-kid energy times, but they’re also really happy doing a quiet workbook activity or drawing or imagining with play characters.  It’s incredible.  I thought if I had Audrey and Noah in my keep that I’d wonder why they couldn’t keep charging up the hill or splashing in the water.  I envisioned squinting down at little Noah’s blond head as he sat drawing in the dust of the path and prodding him–“come on, let’s MOVE!”  Then Laura thought for half a second about having a Milo.  “Does he have an OFF button?” she queried.

Miss Naomi has zip of her own, of course, but she also imitates her big brother in all sorts of stances. Why stay in the tent if it’s raining? And if we’re already wet, why not shoot the water guns at the dry folks who are sheltering in the tent? Yeah, that would be fun, let’s do it!

I’m pretty sure I was a high-energy kid too. I remember during family vacations at Sunnymead, my grandparents’ Lake George house, I would wear out one relative after another. “Come on, Uncle Tom, let’s go up Mt Cook and pick blueberries.” “Come on, Uncle Ted, let’s go for a run.” “Come on, Nathan, let’s go rollerblading.” “Come on, Uncle Stewart, let’s swim to the buoy and back.” Now with my own kids I’m carrying on another family tradition, this one a quieter one. “Come on, Milo, let’s read The Hobbit.”  Thankfully, he’s happy to oblige.