Wonder

Tucker's never been one to resist bedtime. No monsters in the closet, no requests for one more sip of water.  In fact, I'm not sure he's ever even come downstairs for a curtain call, never asked to say anything to us after we've tucked him in.
And it's not that there's any struggle with the shower-toothbrush-pajama routine, but lately there've been some subtle stall tactics. It seems he'd like to be up with the adults, to engage in sparkling conversation after dark. I mean, it's no secret that Tuck has always lived for the question portion of everything.

One evening he picked up Aunt Liddy's enormous old dictionary and began to read it, and to ask about certain words. Another night, interested in a gift of Za'atar, he asked us to help him make a list of spices, which led to actually opening jars from the cabinet to smell differences and discuss uses. Recently he wondered aloud about why the Greek symbol "pi" was chosen to represent the number, which led to RoRo's participation in Googling to learn about the root of the word periphery. He asks Andy about his day at work, about specific patient injuries and about random specialties and about why anyone would ever inject a shot with a fast raised arm in the same dramatic way it's done on television.
I used to record "I wonder" questions in my classroom, not just to gather the wildly off-topic ones but also to view them holistically in order to develop lessons and projects that might harness student curiosity. It's hard not to field Tucker's questions one-by-one, as they come up, but unless they're relevant to bedtime, I'm wondering if we ought to make a recording routine here at home, too. Wonder may be the beginning of wisdom, but sleep is important too.