Father/Son Campout - Part 2 - The Picture Part

The Count

Years ago, when I took Micah to the pediatrician for his two-year check-up, he was diagnosed with expressive speech delay. Basically, he understood everything we said. But he followed his own timetable when it came to talking. And, while he can talk your ear off when given the rare opportunity (he's sandwiched between two very verbal siblings), his strongest gifts lie in other areas.

When he was four, I took him to be assessed for speech. I was trying to get him enrolled in the preschool speech program through the elementary school. He was given a very long and thorough assessment. During one portion, the evaluators went through a large book, filled with pictures. They would ask him to point things out, name them, or just answer questions about what he saw. He was very serious throughout the evaluation and did his best to respond correctly. At one point, he was shown a picture of six fruits. The tester asked how many was half. He answered, "Three." This was unexpected. They further prodded him to point out half of the fruits. He pointed to three of them (and looked at the ladies like they were ridiculous). The comment was made, "Well, I guess we know what his strength is!"

It wasn't the first time I noticed a love of numbers in this son. As we dropped Jonah off at kindergarten each day, Micah began to point out the bus numbers. He repeatedly asked me to name the numbers until, eventually, he could name them all by himself. He memorized the three or four bus numbers we routinely passed by and knew just when and where to expect them. He was three.

Now, this translates into a fascination with patterns and arithmetic. Towards the end of the school year, he was taught to tally. Recently, I have found him silently marking during rainstorms, or as he lies on the grass looking overhead, or while digging in the garden. Some people scribble their life's happenings in blogs or journals. My boy tallies. And I couldn't be happier that he has discovered his gift so early on!

Snack time

G is getting very resourceful. Yesterday morning, he apparently got the munchies. Finding no appetizing food on the floor, he hauled the bathroom stool into the kitchen. Strategically placing it next to the counter gave him easy access to the breakfast condiments I had foolishly left out. As I was getting dressed, J & M came downstairs and began loudly scolding him in between side-splitting laughter. And this was the crime scene as I walked into it:

This was taken AFTER i washed half the syrup bottle off his shirt and shorts...and after i told him it was yucky (but then let him keep at it when i realized i had to get a picture of it. BAD mommy!!)

Guys' Night Out

On Wednesday, the boys arrived home in a flurry of excitement. They waved blue fliers in my face, jointly announcing a school-sponsored "Guys' Night Out." Clint has been absolutely swamped lately (he's taking a 3-week online course as the final requirement for his teaching credential), but he's a soft-hearted Daddy and agreed to take his boys. The evening of movie, food & games was last night and an apparent blast was had (by the boys, at least.)

While they were away, Autumn and I dragged Clint's laptop upstairs to enjoy some snuggle time in her room watching "The Little Mermaid." Then, I came downstairs to finish making the ruffled skirt I've been working on for her (truthfully, I had no interest in her next movie selection, and she was eager for me to finish the skirt). I think she likes it. While she was trying it on in the bathroom this morning, I overheard her telling herself how pretty it was and how much she liked it... in a very dramatic, princessy little voice. It was pretty simple to make, using this tutorial, and since I've got extra fabric I might just make another one or two for her birthday.

So Cruel

Footage of the fact that Gabe loves his Daddy

Daddy's Boy

On one of several car trips today, it was just Gabe & i. We'd dropped off who needed dropping and had some time before we had to start picking up (would've just said picking, but then you might get the wrong idea.) Anyhow, he was just chattering away in the back. I started listening, and realized he was mentioning his Dada. He loves his Daddy, and says all the variations of Dada he can say at his tender age... Da-da, Dad-ee, Da-dee, & Da. He would jabber about something else, but kept coming back to talking about his Dad. I'll admit it, I was starting to feel a little jealous. Why, just this morning, I brought him into bed with me. He practically plowed over me on his way to Clint's side of the bed (Clint was playing church basketball at the time.) He pulled back the covers, calling for Da-dee, then whimpered when he couldn't find him. It took a few more seconds of searching before he finally accepted that Dada wasn't there. Anyway, back to the story. He really began talking a lot about Clint, and I finally decided to look at him while we were stopped at a red light, and see what was prompting this discussion. Did he have his toy phone in hand or was he looking at Clint's coat in the back? As I turned, I saw him flipping the pages of his favorite book:



The pages are filled with illustrations of monkeys and gorillas; and, for once, I was glad he wasn't uttering the scarcely-heard "Mama." :)