Talk about the circus! My life as a mother is a balancing act in more ways than one. Keeping each child moving forward on the right track. Focusing on one while, whoops!, another lags, rushing to his aid, then scrambling to support the next before she falters. Doling out huge quantities of love tempered with correction, or should it be correction tempered with love? Figuring out when to legislate improvement and when to just let it slide.
Roscoe. Oh the hair! The hair! Renegotiating--again--the line between quirky and unacceptable. Every odd year of school is terrible for him (he's in 7th grade), so by comparison this year has been awesome and I'm hoping for even better next year. Mark has discovered that Roscoe does his own personal scripture study before anyone else wakes up in the morning. My mother heart melts.
Logan. Needs more love. Makes a lot of bad choices. Torments his mother mercilessly, thereby draining needlessly her reserves of fun and affection. The imp! But when he chooses, can mobilize the kids with energy and fun.
Levi. Crack-a-lackin'. Lives in a world where Jack Sparrow, Spiderman, and Anakin are more real than I am. His mommy bought him a new bat, ball, pants, socks, and tee ball stand so he can practice for his first game next Tuesday.
Haley. On the cusp of more growth. One day she acts like she did 18 months ago, lurking in corners watching the action but never initiating it herself, wailing like a banshee over imaginary boo-boos. The next day she's confident and strong and handles herself among all these boys very nicely, thank you very much.
Jesse. Says guy, hat, thank you, milk, help, binkie--and that's about it. And yet he spends all day making his "guys" talk to each other in macho-sounding grunts. And then he sits and reads books, staring intently at each page from left to right. Speak, child!