A girl called our house this weekend to talk to my son. He is 6.

I knew this would happen someday.
I just thought my sons’ ages would be in the double digits first. 

On Saturday morning, I woke up to this message on our answering machine:

Hi Seamus, it’s Emma. I really need to talk to you, and (muffled) you’re probably asleep already, but it’s about Moshi Monsters, and I REALLY NEED TO TALK TO YOU. (covering phone) What? Yeah, he must be asleep… he’s not answering! (back to message) so call me back, okay? It’s Emma.

Seamus is in kindergarten. Emma had called at 9:15 pm. Our whole HOUSE was asleep by then.

I played the message for Seamus when he woke up, and while he did not choose to call her back, he had to fight breaking out into a huge grin for the next several hours. 

On Sunday morning, I found this mysterious note next to my laptop:

More Moshi Monsters. What’s Moshi Monsters, you say? Well, it only has fifteen million members between 7 and 11. (Watch for THAT IPO.) Club Penguin? Hello, 2010! This is where it’s at– and it’s completely harmless fun for my two boys. I think. Although I am not entirely sure.

“Seamus go to your frend tree as soon as you get on it.” 
“Do VV for your friends. It’s Caroline.”

A “frend tree” sounds harmless enough, but I’m not so sure what “doing VV” is. I hope it’s not a euphemism for pulling one’s pants down in the cafeteria or something, because Seamus is only too happy to do that already. I have a feeling this is but the very beginning of a new world of things that are going to sail completely over Mom’s head. Hoo boy.

Anyone else have boy-crazy girls (or girl-crazy boys) after their kindergarteners? 

I loved Mama Bird Diaries’ post today about her twins’ first birthday this weekend, and how very hard she tried to live in the moment for a change. She posted a beautiful quote from Anna Quindlen that I’d never heard before, and as usual, Ms. Quindlen nails it: 

“But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them, sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.”

Here’s to treasuring the doing, particularly when we notice just how fast our little ones are growing up.