A few minutes ago I sat down on the couch and began to type a post on Facebook about my wonderfully gratifying day. It was just a GOOD day!
I went to the gym and got in a good workout. We sped through our morning and arrived at co-op with everything we needed and on time. We had a great day at co-op. It is always nice to have a break, but it is always nice to see each other after a break. My classes went well. It seemed like the day flowed. I think everyone was happy. Co-op was good.
I came home and actually sat down for a few minutes. I made a nice big dinner for my well deserved cheat meal and found out my hubby was not going to get to eat with us. I looked around at the OVERABUNDANCE of fish (Which doesn’t not keep well) and made the snap decision to call my parents. My parents had not started their dinner so I told them they had ten minutes to get over here to eat. We were able to eat a great meal, complete with a DELICIOUS dessert. AND we played a game after dinner.
Does it really get any better than that?
Well, yes, my dear sweet eight year old….
The child who has made me seriously consider getting a job an giving up homeschooling. (as recently as this morning while at the gym)
The child who has made me seriously reconsider my entire position on Ritalin.
The child who makes any day without wanting to run away from the home during our school time a victory .
The child who makes me doubt to my very core my calling as a teacher and sometimes as a mother.
He asked if HE could read a book.
Now, to some of you this is no big deal. To some of you, you have no idea why I would even think twice about this, but this is a BIG deal at my house. To me as a mother of my first three children, this would no have been a big deal, but NOW as a mother of four…
“Mom, can I read you one of my library books.”
So, he read.
Sure they were low level. Sure they were short chapters, but he was READING.
Then, you know what else happened.
He said, “Wow, that was kinda fun. Can I get another one?”
And he read that one too.
While I was turned and helping another child, he decided he should read the third library book called, “Bugs!”
I told him how proud of him I was, and sent him off to brush his teeth and find his pajamas.
and I heard this from the kitchen…
“Hey girls, I read three books, and it was actually fun! I think I might like reading. I am going to sneak two books into my bed and read those too.”