life equals school
Isaac learned to read a few weeks ago, and his first book was Hop on Pop. This is amazing because a few weeks before that, I had spent 2 weeks going over the “n” sound and the “d” sound. There were so many tears, his and mine. All I know is that I decided I would cover letter sounds until Kingdom Come if I had to. But I didn’t have to. Something just clicked over, and he read a book on a Saturday morning, pausing over and over to exclaim, “Can you believe I’m reading a book?!”
That was the last Saturday of the soccer season, and he played worse than ever, hardly even worked up a jog. Coach would kick him off the field, and then he would RUN to me smiling.
Meanwhile, Jude wears clean underwear on his head, which is very important, as the eye holes put the nose in, well, … you know. He is also drawing very straight lines and using manners, relatively speaking.
Ian still has no idea what it’s like to poop in the potty, though he’s been training for at least 6 months. He shows me a lot about myself. Every time he doesn’t make it, he says, “I’m sorry Mama. I won’t do it again. I’m really sorry.”
We’re all maturing at different rates, but it’s maturation nonetheless.
I would love it if the emails I received after my post the other day would actually have been posted as comments. There might have been a lively discussion on snarly, log-eyed poetry.
I certainly do intend to open comments from time to time. There are some occasions however that I can’t. If I’ve written something that makes me feel in the least bit insecure, especially if I don’t get comments, I’m just not going to do it. I can either write like that for God or for nobody. If I write something that I hope spurs conversation that points away from me, then yes, let’s talk, especially if I feel like I might actually be around some for the conversation.
One email to me was amazing. She suggested that sometimes not having comments might be it’s own backward form of selfishness. She suggested that sometimes the comments are more for the reader than the writer. What do you think?