Thoughtful Thursday, maybe?
I am a truly fortunate woman. Every day I notice teeny tiny little things of no consequence to anyone, that stop me dead in my tracks. Whilst this may come across as a 'holier than thou,' approach, nothing could be further from the truth, it's merely my small appreciation of the magnificence of the average human bean.
I sit in a chair and enjoy my treat. This is one Christmas voucher that I shan't let expire. Whilst I sit, I watch the woman wheeled in with care and chat. As she sits in her chair, her daughter sits next to her to remove white specks of fluff from her mother's black cardigan, tease the curls of her hair, smooth the wrinkles in her skirts, lay a hand on the quaking Parkinson's fingers, lift her legs into the steamy bubbling water, where the skin hangs in gentle, dried creases and her toes are folder over, furled and gnarled. For now, my body still co-operates with me,. My own bodily functions are within my command.
Later, I watch a Dad walk his dog on a lead. Behind him, two little boys under the age of five, walk should to shoulder, the older and younger deep in amiable conversation. Although they're engrossed, their bodies remain four feet behind their Dad's, in tandem. I can almost see the invisible chord that connects them. They don't drift behind, lagging. They don't speed up to collide with their Dad. Dad looks forward to attend to the dog, never glancing behind, confident that his blood line is at heel. Not careless but carefree. This is a skill they all have, innate and untutored, just like most other people.
On the school run, I attend to the speed limit in a residential area. I see a very small child. The neon pink glow lets me know that she is a girl. She hurtles along the sidewalk alone on her bicycle. There are no adults in sight in any direction. I brake as I approach the stop sign and pause as she approaches the road, and brakes. She puts a foot to the ground to steady her four year old little body. Her helmet clad head turns to look behind her. In her wake, several hundreds of yards away, a mother pushes a stroller at a steady and even pace. Even at this great distance I know that she carries no qualms of anxiety, stress or worry. She knows her daughter will stop. She knows her daughter will wait. Well done mum. Well done daughter.
Cars beetle about the school like a swarm of ants as I await the bell, the end of the school day. A boy catapaults out of his classroom burdened with back pack, winter coat and a sheaf of papers. He pounds down the concrete as his eyes search the traffic. His body changes course seamlessly and bounds towards the hovering double parked car. Off the sidewalk he plunges toward it, a brief smile and wave as he simultaneously heaves open the door, hurls in his belongings and throws his body into the car. I see him lean forward to talk to the driver as his hands reach for the seat belt, all at the same time. Imagine having a body that obeys you, faultlessly?
Children gather at the crossing. The crossing guard watches the traffic for a break. All the children chat to one another as they wait and watch the crossing guard, all at the same time. Their attention may be distracted from time to time, but when the moment comes they all move off in unison, a pack of Impala, a unified group who recognize the signal and respond without effort. I have a sudden renewed love of the herding instinct. How do they do that?
My youngest son scampers towards me scattering his belongings in his wake, but clutching a blue piece of paper as he runs up my body like a squirrel. “Mom! Mom! Mom!”
“Yes dear?”
“Look!” he commands and sometimes words desert him. He shoves the paper into my face in a helpful gesture for the bifocally challenged. I shift him onto my right hip and hold the paper in my left hand, arm extended for focus.
The blue sheet of paper is his daily report card that reflects behavioural prowess rather than academic achievement. Six opportunities;- to follow directions, complete work and stay focused, stayed in line or in one's personal space, raise hand, wait to take turns to talk and used a gentle voice, kept one's space clean and neat, and lastly and perhaps most importantly, ' I was kind to everyone.' There is a gradation of marks. 1 for 'none of the time,' to 4 for 'most of the time.' A spectrum of grey where there are no absolutes, merely rainbow shades of possibilities. He has been at this school and others like it, for four and a half years, in the care of dedicated professionals with a vocation.
“My! Did you get all 4's today? What a truly awesome student you are!” We exchange beams of pride because some things require effort, many things have to be learned and very few of them can be found in a school text book.
January 24th, 2008 at 1:56 am
A truly awesome student!!!
Long live rainbow shades of possibilities.
January 24th, 2008 at 2:49 am
That is so wonderful
. Fantastic work.
January 24th, 2008 at 3:10 am
Definitely worth beaming with pride!
… a truly awesome student in so many ways!!!
xx
January 24th, 2008 at 4:36 am
*noticed yesterday that a co-worker can accept his less-than-subtle hint to not use his personal number during work hours…about work*
January 24th, 2008 at 5:14 am
Beautiful post….. no WONDER you’re proud.
January 24th, 2008 at 5:44 am
Well done to him.
January 24th, 2008 at 6:37 am
Well done! That is a terrific day!
January 24th, 2008 at 6:50 am
Well done, Maddy! Inspiring! I’ve been trying to see, really SEE, all the things I’m thankful for lately. There is so much that I take for granted…
January 24th, 2008 at 7:05 am
love this post. seems a lot of us are seeing the magic lately!
January 24th, 2008 at 7:19 am
Oh I’m bawling like a baby. Normally I can get one or two tears when my emotions are pulled at but this one got me going. First because the moments you describe, of children doing what their parents expect and the parents knowing they’ll do it, used to make me cry every day when Patrick and I left preschool. Dark times that are thankfully behind us. Then the tears came because your son got all 4′s. How awesome is that? All 4′s. Good lad.
January 24th, 2008 at 7:37 am
i have a dear friend who says the only virtues in life are awareness and gladness. your precious boys have made you aware of so many things that so many people miss. and it has made you so glad of small things.
celebrating gladly with you over a 4 star day! yay!
January 24th, 2008 at 8:01 am
congrats, nice job!
January 24th, 2008 at 8:19 am
Yes, I am crying too. (Must stop reading my blogs while at work.) And I must bookmark this as one of my favorite posts.
It’s just not fair at all that everything comes so easily to “the rest” of the kids. And the parents. Sigh.
January 24th, 2008 at 8:45 am
Lots to be proud of! And your last sentence is spot on.
January 24th, 2008 at 9:14 am
This ability to be so appreciative of all the wonders of life (schmaltzy though it sounds) I really believe to be the biggest gift ‘disability’ in all its forms brings us.
I am so pleased and proud for you both! What a wonderful day and huge achievement! BG x
January 24th, 2008 at 9:31 am
I have to echo Bendygirl! And the pic is so very precious, I’m sure you had to give them both a kiss after the pic!!!!!!
January 24th, 2008 at 9:33 am
Reminders me of the Little Wonders song by Matchbox Twenty… (I know, I know .. I’m a total cornball..)
***
Time falls away in these small hours
These little wonders still remain
***
Thanks for reminding me…
January 24th, 2008 at 9:41 am
Hell, my kids aren’t autistic and I’d be thrilled to see that sort of daily report! And my kids, by all accounts, are well-behaved!
January 24th, 2008 at 9:50 am
Yay for him! and he was proud of it, himself, couldn’t wait to show you!
Sounds like a good day for all.
Love the picture.
January 24th, 2008 at 10:45 am
A “four” star day. His pride is the sweetest thing.
January 24th, 2008 at 11:27 am
How nice to remind me to look at the small things every day; I’ve been trying to do this in this new year, and it really makes a difference, focusing on what many would consider the mundane and feel true thanks for them.
January 24th, 2008 at 11:45 am
All 4s. Hell, I don’ give myself all 4s. Well done indeed.
January 24th, 2008 at 12:04 pm
indeed. fortunate.
January 24th, 2008 at 12:49 pm
I loved this post. How wonderful that he got all 4s!
January 24th, 2008 at 1:02 pm
Beaming with joy for his accomplishment —and his recognition that he did a wonderful job! THis is a lvely post full of reminders of the many things which occur so naturally with some kids and for which ours must work so tirelessly.
January 24th, 2008 at 3:25 pm
That was a truly lovely essay. I must link this so I can read it again and again.
January 24th, 2008 at 4:21 pm
Good job, buddy!!! I have a friend who just can’t fathom why my family doesn’t bike down to the park every afternoon. Her kid stops and waits, too. The idea that a child can’t do that at 5 is just beyond her. But then, taking pride in a child keeping his hands to himself and sitting for the whole of circle time is beyond her, too.
January 24th, 2008 at 4:29 pm
This is a wonderful post…
I’ve also always found that it’s nice to sit and watch the teeny tiny things of no consequence, sometimes, things that would otherwise go completely unnoticed. I just can’t write about them as beautifully as you have.
January 24th, 2008 at 5:09 pm
What a great boy! All 4s!
January 24th, 2008 at 6:14 pm
I love your writing…so descriptive, yet concise.
January 24th, 2008 at 7:49 pm
What a great job.
January 24th, 2008 at 11:14 pm
Something about how they are both sprawled on the bed recalls Charlie….
January 25th, 2008 at 5:22 pm
awww how very wonderful. Rainbows are always beautiful.
January 27th, 2008 at 10:07 am
fab! i can’t watch children running near roads without wanting to scream.