My Little Boy

We went to my friend Carol's house on Monday for a Labor Day cookout - it was lots of fun! The kids were swimming, and playing, while Carol, and her recently widowed friend Barbara and I played cards and talked. At some point, Kullen had come in while we were talking about being teenagers, and my high school boyfriend came up. Kullen of course starts asking questions, as usual in rapid fire. Finally he says, "I'm glad you didn't marry him! I wouldn't have even been born!" (I wonder exactly how much he knows!) Then he tilts his head upward, in a thinking gesture, and a few seconds later says, "No, he wouldn't have anything to do with your pregnancy with me!" It was so funny - and I have no idea what was really going through that little head of his!

Isn't he cute? Here he is with some toast art that he made!!

And just FYI - if you have read my sermon notes before, I didn't have any this week - originally because I was scheduled to work in the nursery with Kaitlyn. However, in that little window of time between Sunday school and church, I noticed Kullen had a toy he wasn't supposed to have brought to church, so I made him go out to the car and put it away. Just a few seconds later, he came running up to me, blood running down his foot, almost hyperventillating to keep from crying. The door had come back and jammed his foot inside of his sandals, and ripped the nail almost all the way OFF of his big toe on his left foot. So instead of working nursery, we went to Urgent Care on the advice of a couple of medical professionals. Yuck!

School started at our little "family school" yesterday, and as we were working on a math lesson, trying to bridge the gap between last spring and now we did some review. They were all things I know that he knows - however here is what it was like: when working on a word problem that ended up with the equation 8 + 9 = 17 --- he writes the 8, scratches his arm, looks at the ceiling fan, then back at his paper, thinks about the problem again and realizes he needs to put a + sign, writes the + sign, lays his pencil down, blows eraser shavings not just away from his paper but across the entire table, looks out the window, makes a comment about the weather, stands up, kisses me, sits back down (when I say SIT DOWN), picks up his pencil and writes the number 9 - at which point I am breathing down his neck. If he puts the pencil down again, it had better be for a very good reason - and by the time he writes the = sign he has to do the computation again to get at the number 17, which is the answer to the problem he figured out when the original word problem was read 20 MINUTES AGO!!!!

Some days he makes me laugh - some days he makes me cry! Ah, homeschooling motherhood!