That is the journal assignment from Bug’s TAG teacher. It’s his opinion. What HE sees as beautiful. Can be anytyhing at all. But he didn’t finish it. I don’t know why. I know he hates to write and having a writer from a mom (even if I am just a novice) grates on him terribly and only adds to his pressure. But I am fairly sure that I have figured out that it is the actual handwriting process that he hates. Not the forming of ideas and creativity because he has plenty of that but when it comes to writing down those creative ideas and stories, he freezes up like the Arctic. I have told him time and time again that writing doesn’t take much skill. You just do it. It’s not like singing… where you either can or can’t do it. It’s something that gets practiced and perfected and he hates the practice part. His report card reflected his distaste for writing with a BIG OL’ FAT “F”. That just irritates me to no end. It boggles my mind in a way that I cannot seem to understand or wrap my brain around it even, for the very thing that makes hism the most gifted (according to the tests he took) is the thing he hates the most. Scoring in the 95% for reading and 98% for writing would make one think that a child with this clarity and understanding for the written word would make him a literary genius, but not my son. He will read and tell you everything you want to know on a topic, just don’t ask him to write you a letter about it.
So I thought that I would do the assignment, Don’t misunderstand, he has to finish the assignment, in fact, that is what he will be doing this weekend. I already talked to the teacher. It’s 3-5 paragraphs on various things and one of them happened to be Beauty… so let’s see how I do.
My children are beautiful to me. That’s a given. But to be more specific about it, when they are asleep they are beautiful. I look at their eyes closed so gently, their eyelashes so soft, like feathers on a baby duck, their breathing is so soft and sweet. I love to look at their faces when they sleep and I get overwhelmed sometimes knowing that tomorrow and their next day their faces will change, maybe not enough to see but one day, I will peek in on them, asleep and wonder what happened to the babies that fit so perfectly in my arms when they nursed.Their giggles and smiles are like music, a record you want to play over and over again.
When Bebe smiles and her dimples take over her face and her eyes sparkle is beautiful. I can’t help but wonder what boy won’t fall for those dark eyes and beautiful smile. She is genuine and kind, she is a true and loyal friend and can find something good in every person she meets. I wish and pray for her innocence some days.
When Shortbread gets that devilish look on his face or gives me the angry eyes, I know what’s coming but I can’t help for a moment be totally taken away by the beautiful child and warmth that lies deep inside him. He struggles hard to keep that rough exterior on his outside skin, but when him and Peanut play and he talks to him in a sing song voice, I see his true beauty.
The Bug has beautiul personality. It shines from him like a beacon of light on a dark night. I don’t know why but I often look to my Bug as a younger version of myself. He takes his role of big brother so seriously some days that I find myself reminding him that he is only just a boy, there is plenty of time to become a man.
Peanut still has that innocence that only a baby can have that is truly beautiful. The way he watches his siblings in awe and wonder, the way he plays and “talks” to the cat. His complete innocence is beautiful to me. He sees everything new. There is nothing old to him. He sees his world in a way that most of us can’t even begin to remember. It’s only with spending each day with him that I get a chance to know what his world is and he lets me in, everytime we play together, read, or discover the cat for the 50th time that day.
Early morning when the house is still and quiet, before the noise of the day is beautiful to me. I can feel peace and calm in those moments, and though I don’t witness them enough, when I do, I tend to sit; just as peaceful and as quiet as the house is… feeling it’s calm warmth.In the winter, I love to get up and look outside at the snow. Before the plows and cars and even my children have trampled through it. It reminds me of the big, white down comforters they sell in Sears, (the kind I can’t afford without selling a kid) or a giant pillow, one you can flop on and feel the WHOOSH up around you as you land.
I don’t know. Is my world beautiful enough? Do you think I would have passed this assignment if it had been me?
I’d say you passed. You even make your hothead seem like a wonderful shing young man. Then I remember him screaming all the way to walmart, in walmart and all the back to my house. Then proceeding to scream until you picked him up. As your younger sister, the one you hit with the hairbrush for so many years I feel it neccessary [sp] to point out in light of your gifted childs F….my ADHD kid got 4 A’s and 2 B’s. No C’s, D’s or F’s. Proud as hell….only a little.