History. Social studies. Political science. With a book (or 3) in hand, he is a sponge for those topics.
We spent a lot of extra time together last week. Picking up groceries. Running errands. Cooking in the kitchen. Shucking corn on the back steps. Extra time for talking when so many huge events were taking place in our nation to process. Extra time listening to him. Answering his questions. Telling him when I didn’t know the answer. Learning together. Celebrating and mourning as we read national and international headlines.I remember when we were trying to figure out kindergarten. I remember thinking, “no one prepared me for this…no one tells you how hard school decisions are when you are holding a newborn.” I feel that way often with him, different circumstances, but the same feelings. Last week was so monumental for our country. He and I studied US history together this year. We read Uncle Tom’s Cabin out loud together. We’ve talked about racial issues for months. We did again last week. Preparing corn and talking about Charleston. Busy hands help conversation flow sometimes.Last week we worked in the garden too. We cut cucumbers. Made pickles. In age appropriate ways, we talked about pivotal Supreme Court cases and how American history is written. I wasn’t alive when Brown v. Board of Education happened…I’ve only read about it in history books. I wanted to be sure that as he reads and studies about the decision and impact of Obergefell v. Hodges in the years to come, he would remember sweet, sweet moments on the back steps talking about it with his mom. Making pickles and listening to his insights and thoughts.
I’m thankful for slow days with my kids to dialogue about current events and the past. I’m thankful for diversity among my friends…that when I open facebook I get to see them share their very different stories, dreams, hopes and fears on a variety of topics with passion and conviction.
I’m grateful for days like these. The unchanging in the midst of changing. Days that mix thought provoking conversations with regular stuff like sending boys to ‘wrestle it out in the kiddie pool’.
I’ve been doing a lot of talking this week. I’m not really a talker. The more I talk, the more self-aware I am of every word that falls from my lips. Words are so powerful. I’m watching that play out among my friends online. Reckless words pierce like a sword. May my words never be spoken recklessly. When I open my mouth to share with my kids, my family, and my friends, I hope they hear life and love.
My 11 year old would also like me to note his six-pack in the shot above…