Grade 4, Winter Term, Long Division Block Week 2 ~ We Celebrate a Birthday

T-Guy is 11 today. Do you remember when I wrote about him turning 10? He is still every bit as wonderful as he was a year ago. He is a child who comes running to the car when I've been to the market, carrying in heavy bags without prompting. He remembers to put his clothing in the hamper and to close the door behind him. He even puts the cap back on his tube of toothpaste! He offers his help consistently and rarely grumbles when given a chore.

More than all of these little things, he is a child who loves life and is grateful for all it offers. He never fails to see the beauty in a sunset. He loves the dogs fiercely. Whatever he is given is enough; he is a child who sees the positive, never the negative. When he is interested in something he vibrates with passion; currently, his passion is baseball and we are entering our first foray into Pony Baseball, with baseball camp starting tomorrow, baseball practices beginning in February, and finally competitive games starting in March. He is unable to contain his joy at such prospects.

He was a baby who smiled, a child whose view of the world was one of abundance and goodwill. This optimism means that he doesn't always understand why others don't act their best day in and day out. He has immense trust in the sincerity and goodness of others. When he was younger it meant that he didn't get the joke most of the time, or understand teasing, but now he is able to laugh along with others.

I am so happy to have him at home with me, to serve him in the role of teacher as well as mother, and sometimes even as friend. ("They" warn you against that, but really, how can you have a close loving relationship with your child and not have it spill into friendship? You just have to remember that you are a parent first.)

P.S. That child up there? That is his 10 1/2 year-old self; this year the hair came off. I do miss it, but 10 and 11 year-old boys aren't always very good at caring for their hair, and he would no longer sit still for me to comb it.

P.P.S. That isn't our house, it's the neighbor's house. We move cars out of the driveways and let the guys practice catching across several yards.