As most of you know, I grew up with three younger brothers, two of them now long dead. Then I gave birth to two daughters who have now presented me with FOUR grandsons. I had always thought I would have a son (but didn’t) so these boys are a joy and a challenge; they delight, enlighten and sometimes terrify me. 🙂
Younger Daughter and I had a gorgeous day for our trip to Owen Beach, about 35 minutes away. It felt much longer since Ian doesn’t like riding in the car, so YD and I (plus Anders) did a lot of singing of Twinkle, Twinkle, Wheels on the Bus and Old McDonald. Once we arrived, the sunshine and warmish weather enticed Anders to approach the water for rock throwing. I was the eagle-eyed supervisor!
Believe it or not, there were a number of people swimming in the icy water. You couldn’t pay me enough.
It didn’t seem to bother Anders though.
Once out of the car, Ian was as happy as a clam at high tide. There were many rocks that he could try to eat.
Look at those beautiful eyes! Poor guy is pulling himself up to stand now which means much more bonking of the head, thus the forehead bruises. He wants to walk very badly. I would prefer him to keep crawling for a while; it’s easier on my nerves.
What can I say about the view except that I can never get enough of it?
My other guys are in their Jaxon Smith-Njigba jerseys and passing the time before the Seahawks’ kick off doing a Pokémon Lego (Sharky) and Lite Brite (Obro). I’ll miss watching the game with them today; I’m torn because John probably doesn’t want to spend every game with a couple of little boys. Perhaps I should talk with him about it…
At one of last week’s coffee dates, I ran into a group of retired male teachers, counselors and administrators from my district. Of course, I knew all of them and got many hugs and kind words. Shockingly, one of my former students (from my first year of teaching!) was having coffee with them; he shared that I had had an exceptional impact on his life. What I responded was, “Thank you! That means a lot to me.” I wanted to tell him instead how sorry I was that he had experienced that 23-year-old, inexperienced and bumbling version of me. I was beyond young, still living with my parents and many of my students were 18 and towered over me. I wish he’d been in my class 10 years later when I was more seasoned; I’d married by then and had a child of my own; I felt much more confident and knowledgeable about how best to relate to the students and teach them (get them to love) my subject. Plus, I was over double their age which changed how I interacted with them. As the years passed, I became their parents’ age and then (gulp) their grandparents’ which allowed me to use a gently wielded authority and my deeper understanding of children and effective instruction. I couldn’t have known any of this as a 23-year-old neophyte, so I don’t blame myself; I had to learn it over my 37 years in the classroom. If I ever run into Paul again, I may share some of this with him. Or perhaps I’ll simply treasure his compliment for what it was and resist any more navel gazing. LOL
It still shocks me though that these students from my early years of teaching are now in their 60s and are actually my contemporaries. That’s weird, isn’t it?
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