Skip to main content

We momentarily interrupt this blog....

....for motherly bragging.

For those who don't care for bragging, (I'm assuming we all do love mothers, at least a little), please feel free as a bird to skip this entry. I won't be hurt, really, I won't. It's o.k., I have extraordinary children.

I really do.

I took them to the "school of choice". There, they were assessed to see where they would fit in.

Ian, my precious son, said, "It was hard, but fun. It's challenging, but fun." Ahhhh, that's grand!

Cami, the precious youngest daughter came out all smiles and blue eyes crinkly with excitement, "Fun!", she decreed. Excellent, I thought.

We waited for Katie. And waited for Katie. And just when I was entertaining thoughts that I had accidently brought my daughter to the open door of a disguised space ship and they had vanished my Katie to Mars, here she comes. The two evaluators behind her had glistening brows. They were shaking their heads. She was beaming. This could mean many, many things.

The evaluators spoke in hushed whispers so as not to anger/annoy/concern the parents sitting around me. "She's amazing. (pause) Really. (pause) Really amazing." I waited, brows raised expectantly. "Amazing?" I promoted, helpfully.

"We tried to stump her in math." Ahh, I began to see the correlation. This is a child who does Soduko at 7 years old.

"And in reading." Yes. Well, she devours Lemony Snickets like candy. And the Bible. She's eclectic that way. Second grader sometimes are.

"And we can't. Stump. her. We stopped at fourth grade level. We were afraid to go higher."

Katie? Katie was brightly beaming and veritably frothing at the bit to do more, see more, learn more. It's like raising a comet. They're brilliant and elusive and you're always chasing their tails.

Comments

CrackerLilo said…
Of course you're proud! Wow, how amazing!!!

Sorry I've sucked as a blog-friend--real life's been hectic--but I'm smiling for you and your kids.
11:42 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

People are basically kind.

So, I have/had a goldfish.  He's currently living out his life in an aquarium in the basement of my home. But, he longs for wider areas to roam.  I don't KNOW this as he has not burbled his preference to me, but my son, the fish expert assures me this is so. And, thus, I took to Nextdoor: Below is my entry. TLDR, need pond for goldfish to live. Healthy fish. If you can help, comment or PM me. Y'all. Y'all....I can't make this stuff up. The Goldfish, that you may remember from my previous post is now referred to in capital letters and an honorific, bestowed upon him by me. Sir Fin, of the House Goldfish, is seeking an abode that far, far transcends his practically new 10-gallon aquarium. Do you know of a pond where he may reign? Or, in the way of the circle of life, live out his destiny? He's a good fish, quiet. Very quiet, in a goldfish way. He would not disturb, I would not think. Healthy. Bright, snappy fins. Clear, if vacant eyes. ...
Post a Comment
Read more
  Well, THAT was humbling. I adore it when the Lord puts me in my place. Really.  Like my favorite thing EVER. Because, you know, I just never stray very far from how I know He wants me to act and be.  Right. When the Lord puts me in line, it's more of an "attitude adjustment" along the lines of Extreme Makeover Edition.  I'll be karping along, muttering sullenly and sacrastically about this, that or the other and.... WHOOPS.... **************************************************** The Almighty gifts me with a hard smack right across the back of the head. Yes.  I remember when, a long time ago, I likened wanting to be in the will of God so feverently that I would pray that God would just pick me up if I was on the wrong path, like an errant turtle, put me on the right way and if necessary, place me on my back so the only direction I could look was up to heaven.  Turtle on it's back.  Yes indeed, Lord.  Flip me like a tutle on it's back. I...
1 comment
Read more

Don't eat the toast

Recently, I wrote a status on Facebook.  "Buy the shoes" was the sentiment from the picture.  I added:  "I'm not eating burnt toast, anymore" or words to that effect.  On reflection, I think I'd like to say more. When I was little, I ate toast all. the. time.  Now that I am older, and heavier, toast is a celebration. It's a carb, carefully and judiciously smeared with the tiniest schmear of light butter and savored quietly and slowly with my coffee.  It's often cold long before I'm done, but I dip it into my coffee.  BTW, people are discovering or have discovered the delight of a small amount of butter in coffee.  While you may wince, don't knock it, til you have tried it.  What makes me giggle, is that my daddy did this 50 some years ago.  That man was constantly ahead of his time.  Bless him. Back to toast.  It's so easy, in the early years to eat burnt toast:  you're learning to make toast, you are 6 years old....
1 comment
Read more