balloon magic

This week at work while I was playing with one of our special ed. students and a balloon, I discovered a certain spot in our room where the air currents could hold the balloon in mid-air, seemingly by magic. Although the novelty of it was totally lost on my sped student, I was quite impressed and called over other sped teachers and aides to see. They were duly impressed and invited their students to come see. For the next few days, as anyone came into the room, the floating balloon was pointed out to them. It didn’t take long to realize that I had not only discovered a magical spot, but I had also discovered a test for cognitive acuteness, for lower-functioning students didn’t grasp the significance of a balloon suspended in mid-air, wanting to take the balloon itself at face value, puzzled that it didn’t have a string so they could hang onto it. Higher-functioning students, on the other hand, expressed amazement, some even wanting to know how it worked. Whodathought!

Mothers Day

I have been missing my babies lately. It’s been such a long time since I gave one of them a bath, helped them blow their nose, since I held them in my arms and rocked them to sleep, read them a story… you know, all those things that mothers do a million times, wondering if the children will ever grow up and do it on their own. But they do grow up, and this is one mother that, today anyway, misses it all. There are such simple joys that make up raising children and once in a while I just wish I could experience those simple joys once again. I’d love to watch Nathan reading a book and be in awe of his intelligence. I’d love to hear Eli laughing so hard he could hardly tell the joke that is funny only to him. I’d love to hear Jesse in the kitchen brewing up a “delicious” concoction of rice, beans, spices and other sundry things (not necessarily edible), then have him insist I eat it… I wish I could see Aaron dancing with a radio clipped to his diaper, Hannah’s expressive eyes as she “reads” the scriptures, making things up as she goes, all in “scripture-speak.” And how I’d love to see Isaac do somersaults across the living room floor, a hundred at a time. But as they grow, the simple pleasures of raising children turn into thrills at their accomplishments: Nate’s playing trumpet solo with the jazz band; Eli’s amazing performance as a dead man in a high school play; Jesse’s computer animation, Aaron’s tennis matches, Hannah’s art. Isaac’s somersaults are now mid-air off a diving board! And the thrills never end. Each one of the children has grown to become a wonderful, impressive, capable, accomplished, good adult (well, I guess Isaac isn’t quite an adult yet). They do me proud. They do me humble, too, to think that I have been so honored as to be a part of their lives. That I am the one that got to give them baths, hold them in my arms and read to them. That I got to hear their laughter, kiss their boo-boos, and be in awe of their absolute amazingness. This is the true joy of motherhood, getting to watch (and being a part of) a human being’s progress through life from the beginning of it. It is truly a wonderful experience.