Bike-a-rama

Well, a lot has happened since I last wrote. So much for the everyday blogging I was going to attempt. I must admit, breaking the camera really crimped my style and I still haven't recovered. I didn't go near the computer for over a week and then when I did, I didn't check email or attempt to write anything. Maybe I just needed a break. I don't know. Amazingly, despite my funk, life went on! Aidan can now ride a two wheeler! (This picture is courtesy of Diane's camera) He still requires some help getting started off but he is now perfecting the moving turn and breaking with the pedals, not by crashing or falling. Actually, he has yet to have any major collision or upset. It's totally reflective of his personality, though. Mr. Safety. But still, he is an amazingly even rider without even so much as a wobble.
I don't know who's more excited sometimes. I have caught myself hollering with incredible gusto, to the point of Aidan's embarrassment, I'm sure. He"ll need to get used to that.

Surprised by Color

"Every leaf speaks bliss to me, fluttering from the autumn tree."
Emily Bronte

It's amazing. Despite the historical drought we are experiencing, autumn in Atlanta is stunning. Last week has burned into this week and suddenly our street is aflame. It's amazing. I don't remember the colors being this vivid in the history of my time here. And though I, too, pray for rain to fall I will be content
for now
with the falling
of
the
leaves.

This week's adventure

Again, if only my camera wasn't broken!!!! AARRGGHH!!
Anyway.

Last week it was reading. This week, it is bike riding. That's right. As in without training wheels. Yesterday, Aidan got his bike out of the garage and discovered that his training wheels had gotten all out of whack. I'm not sure what happened to them because I didn't see any major collision or accident when he was riding his bike the day before. Nevertheless, when he started riding he wobbled back and forth. I offhandedly said, "Gosh, if it's that wobbly you might as well take the training wheels off." I truly wasn't trying to start something but, to my utter surprise, Aidan jumped at the idea. "Alright. I'll do it," he said.
Now, you must understand, whenever I've ever alluded to such a proposition in the past it has been met with nothing short of hostility. So, for obvious reasons, I had stopped bringing it up.
After I double and triple checked that Aidan was really up for this we then did the deed. He was so excited to put on his helmet and then hop up on a true two wheeler. And I swear he looked 3 inches taller.
We proceeded to practice "riding" for about 30 minutes. I only let go for a few seconds here and there and most of the time he didn't know when I had. I suppose I wasn't interested in watching him fall off his bike a million times on the first day. We'll save that for a little later on this week. I finally had to cry "uncle" when my lower back all but gave out with one major spasm. He was sad to stop but he was very gracious about it and understood.
The thing that amazed me about all of this was his attitude. Never before have I seen him make up his mind so decisively and follow through so completely. I truly believe that he thought that it was very possible that he might actually pull this off in one day. And if my back was worth more than mush, I believe he could have too.
This was all him, again. It's just fascinating to see how quickly he advances, no matter what the subject or task, when he is in charge of the pace, method, or direction. This adventure in learning at home is truly an education for me, as well. Learning to trust my son and his abilities is one of the hardest things I've ever done. But the reward for doing so is beautiful. I get to see my son shimmer.

We have a date!

Well, after all of the soul searching, researching, praying, meditating, ruminating, dreaming and wondering it appears that our time in Atlanta has now become finite. John's last day as an employee of the Georgia Justice Project will be December 31. Technically, the office is closed from Christmas through New Year's Day so his last day will actually be the day before Christmas. Which means that we will be moving to St. Louis, Missouri sometime during that last week of December.
I think I'm still in shock, despite the fact that I've already started taking care of details. It's just kind of strange to suddenly be staring in the face all that you've been talking and planning for over the past year and a half. We're not talking of things in some distant far off future anymore--we're talking of our reality in just over 6 weeks!!!!!
Yikes!!!!!!
And how in the world do I really begin the process of closing out a chapter of my life that has been 17 years in the writing? I have now lived in Atlanta (when you include my four years at Emory) as many years as I ever lived in St. Louis. That's phenomenal. Despite the fact that I was born and lived in the same city my "whole life", my entire adult life (college, single life, marriage, children) has been carved out here in Atlanta. I now say y'all without blinking an eye, I truly believe that Spring begins in March and lasts until June, I never hope for snow on Christmas anymore--or all winter, for that matter, I think nothing of driving over 15 miles to see a friend, and my midwestern accent no longer exists. I've got Atlanta smeared all over me! This city has become my home.
So how do you move "home" when you already have a home?

Pumpkin update

I can't believe my camera's not working. You would love how crazy the boys' pumpkins look. Aidan's fell off its perch within a day and August's looks like the wicked witch of the west after Dorothy threw water on her. The main benefactor of our backyard experiment seems to be ants. They moved in almost immediately and have been slowly munching away at the pumpkin flesh. It would be interesting to see how the pumpkins decomposed in a compost pile as compared to how they do it by themselves. Regardless of their setting, it is still pretty interesting.

The value of work

This post is about me today.

While the boys played outside this morning I decided to rake some leaves. Talk about an exercise in futility! The leaves have only just begun to fall here and, if you cast your eyes heavenward, you can see that there are plenty more where the ones you're raking came from. Nevertheless, my anal retentive self took pleasure in the momentary tidiness.
I've noticed that some of my best thinking occurs during these mundane tasks (raking, showering, scrubbing the toilet) and that has helped me to view such responsibilities in a new light. I'm starting to welcome them, actually. As much as I love being with my boys, it is incredibly time and energy consuming and there's not a whole lot of time for higher level thinking on my part. I can get away with this for awhile, but if left unchecked, I become a babbling moron. I will be the first to admit that I am not the town intellectual but I am also not the village idiot. I do have a brain and I do like to use it on occasion. The problem occurs when I try to shift gears on a whim. I overhear some stimulating conversation--I can't think exactly where I might hear said conversation, but just stay with me--and I want to chime in. But it's as if there are only vapors to burn, not honest to goodness combustible fuel. This happens more often than I would like to admit. But I have found that this is exactly why the everyday tasks that require no thinking on my part, but rather simple repetitive motions, are so valuable. These often loathed chores are now something I welcome because they provide me with something that is so rare: time to just think. I need time to let the dust settle and then for thoughts, ideas, and inspiration to emerge. This only happens when you have time to think of nothing and something to occupy your hands. I need this more often since I can't recall all the new insights I gained this morning, but you get the gist. I'll get back to when I remember my incredible plans.

Could it really be a second Good Day?

When I woke up this morning I was still buzzing from yesterday's "good day." It was just such an encouragement to my soul to watch pure learning take place. I was just planning on milking that experience for all it was worth, not expecting to get such a high again any time soon.

And then there's my Aidan. What I have managed to learn thus far in our "learning at home" adventure is that you don't push anything on him. Relaying information to him is successful almost exclusively through natural conversation and interaction. Whenever I strike a pose that singles me out as "TEACHER" and him as "STUDENT", it never goes well. It's like he can see straight through that charade and he just shuts down and moves on. He craves personal connection, not didactic gymnastics. Which is wonderful because ever since I recognized that learning at home was for us, I've never been able to find a curriculum that I felt fit. It has become more and more obvious to me that we are eclectic, relaxed, and ever evolving home based learners. We fit in no proverbial box and we are constantly responding to the day as it unfolds. In that environment we all seem to shine.

So that's the set up. It was 2:45 this afternoon. I had just finished an hour of house work that I had insisted that the boys allow me to complete. "It's not my job to think of what you should do with yourselves while I do what I need to do," were my parting words. Both boys retreated to their bedroom to look at books or magazines or play with blocks. I was true to my word and checked back in with them after an hour. I offered to do a 96 piece puzzle with Aidan and as we finished he casually said, "I can write the word 'cat' in lowercase letters." "Show me," I said. We went to his table. He proceeded to do as he said he could do. I then told him that if he could spell "cat" then he could spell "bat." He cocked his head at me and I could see him trying to figure that out. I then reminded him that cat and bat rhyme and thus, they are spelled the same. When he realized that the only letter that changed was the first his face lit up like a Christmas tree. He then went on to spell "mat, hat, rat, fat and sat." I then decided to push my luck and write out "The fat rat sat on a hat" and I proceeded to ask him to read it. The look on his face was priceless. "Read it? Who me?" is what his eyes seemed to be saying. But then he looked down at what I had written and proceeded to sound it out, even the "sight" words "The" and "on."

I'm still buzzing. How great is this? To witness the birth of new found knowledge as it is actually emerging from the womb of someone's brain is truly a miracle and a privilege.

And I didn't do anything! It was all Aidan.