The Green Balloon

It's been a while since I've written for just the sake of writing. Well, it never is really "just for the sake of writing" though, is it? When I write, life morphs from frustrating to beautiful and sometimes just plain laughable – not because I write but because I see it with perspective. And today I choose to laugh.

As I swiped cobwebs from the discipline of writing, Nathan swept the same sticky threads of neglect from book-learning and what a chore it was.

Sitting in front of a book does not induce easy learning for Nathan, but rather thoughts such as, "Hey, my pencil is already sharp, so let's sharpen it again." After sharpening his sharp pencil three times I snatched the little tool out of his hand with the firm, and motherly, command, "Don't… touch… the sharpener… again."

Then it was the curtains. He closed them. He opened them. He closed them again. He opened them half way. That's when I, already with sharpener in hand, begged, "Can you PLEASE just do your Math?"

Thanks to a two week break from formal book work we had quite a rocky transition complete with backwards numbers, mixed place values, and plain old wrong answers. I showed grace and frustration, prayed for help and guidance, and told myself Nathan will never take another break from school. Ever.

That's when I left to brush my teeth and discovered Simon looking into the toilet. He exclaimed with great enthusiasm, "Look, Mommy! I did an experiment!" Just what every mother wants to hear from a four year old standing in front of a toilet.

As it turns out, on Saturday morning he decided to eat a green balloon. I did not know about this rational way of experimenting with the digestive system, but here I stood two days later staring at an intact green balloon (along with other things) in the toilet.

"Simon, now we know, so don't eat balloons again. Ever. It's dangerous."

"Yes, Mommy."

I texted Brad, "I want to leave the nut house now."

The other nugget was Nathan reading a sentence about a cod fish and with his big brown eyes he looks up at me and tells me with all sincerity, "I love that name 'cod fish'. If I ever discover an unknown fish I'm going to name it 'cod fish'."