One of those Daughters

I am not "one of those mothers." They are known in the theatre world as "stage mothers," living vicariously through their child's very special accomplishments and driving everyone from the child to the director to the lights guy absolutely insane about how very special their kid is and how they need very special accommodations (like the lead role) in order to shine ever-so-specially. I have normal kids that do normal things and make normal mistakes and argue with each other in abnormally loud voices. I am more of the "hanging on by the seat of my pants" sort of mother, lovingly planning, cooking, reading aloud and driving places to which they must be driven. Note, I never promised "patiently" just lovingly.  I can often be heard to exclaim, exasperated; "what do you mean, we're out of erasers/shampoo/crickets AGAIN!?"

So it is through no merit of mine that my Lily has become "one of those daughters" that you want to write about, you just can't help it. She has finished writing her first book.

High School Beginnings

He may as well have been three years old, standing and waiting for a bus in the rain, my heart would not have been any less wrenched right out of me today. The beginning of the week was fine; there was so much to think about and do; schedules to examine, lunch to consider, in short, there was no time to think. Now that there was a solid five minutes of staring out the window (behind the curtain, invisible, of course), at my 14-year-old Aragorn waiting for the yellow bus that would take him off to high school for the next 8 hours, I was a wreck.

"It's about time. Seriously, get a grip."

Neen, the Resident Leopard Gecko

 

The Sounds of Child-Led Learning

One of those sounds is quietly chirping in the oddest corners of our house this week. Chirping like very small wings rubbing together in evening song, the direct result of my absolute love for my children. When Arthur came down the steps at 7am the other day and burst into tears, my first thought was; "Oh no, the dang lizard is dead." I was almost relieved, almost, when he announced instead: "I dropped the crickets all over." I dried his tears, taking the stairs 2 at a time to see if I could contain the damage. One fresh jar of crickets...righto.