So…with kindergarten we have begun the process of working on sight words. Today, among others, I was reviewing ‘boy’ and ‘girl’ with Gage. When we came to the word girl, I attempted to give him a hint.
I said, “Campbell is a ….. ”
Gage immediately replied, “Desperate!”
I think he is missing the point of starting with the basics but it gave me the only belly laugh I have had for the day.
MUSTACHE | BRIGGS
Apparently, the notion of puberty is hot on Briggs’ mind after being in middle school for two weeks. He yelled down the hall while I was doing laundry, “Mom! I think I am getting a mustache.”
I asked him to come into the stronger light of the laundry room to investigate his upper lip.
I sneered, “You mean the blond fuzz on top of your lip?”
Almost at the same time Briggs exclaimed, “Come to think about it…Mom…you have a mustache too!”
We have gotten away from purchasing Happy Meals. They are expensive, provide little food for the growing needs of our children, and make us only accumulate more junk I have to secretly dispose of. Somehow though I got suckered into purchasing them this week on the run inbetween school and sports practices.
I felt swindled. I yelled to the back of the van, “In the future, we are never buying Happy Meals again!”
Gage replied, “Mom, you can’t predict the future!”
My favorite exchange between the Briggs and Gage came after the Middle School Open House.
Briggs has had a crush on one girl, in particular, for a few years. **For the sake of anonymity, her name has been changed below.** As we passed Arielle in the hall, I gave her a happy hello. Briggs was unable to utter a word.
He proceeded to tell me how embarassing I was at which point I explained he likely had the coolest mom in the entire fifth grade! That was when I tripped…not only embarassing him more but realizing I may just think I am cool.
**Skip forward several hours.**
Briggs tends to divulge a lot of his feelings, and ask important questions at bedtime. Like a computer, he is in his ‘shutdown’ process.
Here was the exchange.
So, Mom…how do I tell Arielle I like her?
Well, until you learn how to say ‘Hi’ to her, I wouldn’t worry about telling her you like her. How about just starting off with something simple, such as “How was your summer?” or “Who is your homeroom teacher?” or “Are you playing soccer this Fall?”
I am not sure what I would say.
You are in fifth grade. Why not just stick to being friends?
Gage <interjects with teasing>:
Briggs can’t tell Arielle he likes her!
Briggs <in the funniest comeback tone I have witnessed>:
Seriously, Gage. You have an imaginary girlfriend named TreeTop. I don’t think you should be teasing me.
He is growing up so quickly. His time as my baby was so short-lived with the twins arriving twenty months after he was born.
He acts like a big kid. He hangs out with the big kids. He connects dots far beyond his age. He just gets things. Yet, he just melts in my arms whenever I give them out.
He is the one we spend the most time putting to bed. It is like Gage time. He always gets a book. He always gets rubbed. And, Tim dozes into dreamland with him nearly every night. Maybe Tim and I both have a need to make up for lost-baby-time with him.
Like a second child, he hasn’t had the major exposure to the camera like Briggs did for every sporting event. So, I made it a point to catch a few shots of him before the T-Ball season ended.
The most thought provoking question I have been asked in a long time was by my son, Gage. “Mom, does everyone have a conscience?”
Of course, my first reaction was everyone has a conscience. Whether they decide to use it is entirely another matter.
But the question stayed with me for several days.
Shortly before Gage asked his question, Briggs came home with a short essay about right and wrong (see below). I have kept in on my beside table for several weeks. Anything personal he brings home, I treasure. But this essay rang so true.
We have such an enormous responsibility as parents. Unlike many other traits, I don’t believe we are born with a conscience. It is one of those traits that is molded and created for us by our parents at a young age. I feel so honored to be a parent raising children to make the right choices. Now…you certainly know from MANY of my previous posts that they don’t. But I mean the real choices they will make someday that have real consequences.
Briggs gives me great hope that we are making some strides in the right direction. May the rest follow.
I knew I was one of those crazy, middle-aged mothers that loves the Twilight series when my son came to me and said, “Look mom, I have Edward hair!” I have to admit I thought he looked irresistably-cute.
So some of my friends…the other crazy, middle-aged moms…are purchasing advanced tickets to New Moon at midnight on November 21st today. The countdown is on! Care to join the bandwagon?
I could hardly believe my ears when Gage asked if he could help me clean the kitchen yesterday, especially coming after the trio assisted folding laundry. Definitely a change I noticed immediately after they started Montessori. Bu don’t get jealous just yet.
I exuberantly replied, “Of course, you can clean the house, Gage!”
The trio set to work with rags and water. They wiped down walls, washed the counters, and scrubbed the floor. While their efforts were appreciated and it occupied their time for a blip in the day, they left enough standing water to start a skating rink. But they definitely had fun making ‘the mess’.
I figure with a little training, however, I could easily talk myself into breaking child labor laws.
Later that afternoon Gage asked if he could clean our neighbor’s house. I simply made the call and headed him out the door with his bag of ‘Gage’s Cleaning Supplies.’ I forewarned her so she kept him to a small area. I also explained the importance of squeezing out your sponges!
When he returned, entrepreneurial-big-brother-Briggs, told Gage he should charge for his work next time!