On School and Life

My big boys,

Today we are a little more than a fourth of the way through our first year of school and we are learning! Learning to write! Learning to read! Learning what happens when you put a boiled egg in milk or in soda! Learning to make spider hats and why letters have stamps and just exactly how one, "Stops, drops, and rolls." Just Kindergarten learning! But mostly? Mostly, we are learning about each other.

Take you, my Benny Boy. You are my listener and my do-er. You love read-alouds and answering questions about them and you beam ear to ear when I ask you to help or lead us in our Phonics Song. You are honest when you truly don't understand something and I am continually humbled by the love you show me when you figure something out for the first time. You don't get excited or jump up and down. You get down from your chair and run over to hug me, as if the victory isn't complete without someone to celebrate it with. If there's glue involved; you're in! And you always, always, ALWAYS choose the pink marker no matter what we may be coloring. I am still learning to tread lightly when it comes to being your momma-teacher, as my persistence on a few issues has brought about tears on your part and the fact that you apologize when you make a mistake about leaves me undone. You have such a desire to please, my boy, and your efforts are so very sincere. Even though you are a reluctant learner, content with just letting Abe answer or resigning to the fact that you, "just can't," I've found that a little encouragement brings you right into step. And wouldn't you know, a correct answer from you carries us both through the bumpier days. A handful of M&M's for the both of us doesn't hurt either!

As you for you, Mister AB, you are just like your daddy. You have a photographic memory. If you see it, it's ingrained, forever and ever, amen. You love to learn and practice and practice some more. In fact, one of your favorite things right now is flash cards. You beg Ben to quiz you and he does even though we all know it's painfully boring for him. You love sounding out words and writing your entire name and practicing with your readers. And you LOVE computer paper and all the writing and drawing you can do with it. And we can just forget about throwing even one piece of it away! You are independent and intuitive and you often work ahead (and get it right) in your workbooks without saying a word. I love seeing those wheels turning and how you think and reason and your persistence to do it by the book. You are steadfast, my boy, eager, and genuinely excited about the world and every question in it.

Sometimes, we sit at the island, your two verses my one and we laugh and high five over, "Drop, Drop, and cross." And we celebrate remembering the difference between a 3 and an S or we bake cookies and I don't blink twice at the mess. And sometimes, I sigh loud and scratch my forehead at the 187th pencil drop for the day and the play-doh in the grout and wonder just why in the world your daddy isn't home yet and what I can possibly muster up for dinner before the entire house comes apart at the seams. Turns out, I'm learning too. What works, what doesn't. What is needful for the week. The day. The hour. What isn't. And all the while trying to remember that the goal is our hearts and our mission is love and still manage the laundry and a little fun too.

The three of us, well, we are most definitely a work in progress. And though today will probably look quite different than yesterday and I can't even fathom the tomorrows, His grace is sufficient and His mercies new every morning, and so we will just school on.