Where to begin?

I am having a hard time writing a blog these days. I just don't know where to start. I like for my stories to have a beginning, and middle, and a resolution. I find that just as I sit down to write something, more exciting things transpire and the paragraphs I've labored on have become obsolete. Plus, there's the pressure to be funny. Or poignant. Or at least self-deprecating. So, I've decided to just write stream of consciousness this time. It's what any good writing teacher would tell you to do. Just put something down to get the ideas flowing. So, here goes nothing:

First, Carter has learned to snap. I think one of his dear friends, Elizabeth, taught him how. It's bad enough that he has to practice snapping incessantly, but he also snaps like a lounge singer. There's a shrug of the shoulder and tip of the head. He only needs to learn how to wink, and he'll be ready to roll.

Will is going through a stage that his Mimi referred to as "the velcro stage." Every day he siphons more and more of my energy and sanity away by constantly needing to "hold you, mama." Oh, it sounds so sweet. It is sweet. But then I feel my eyes glazing over, my focus turning into the recesses of my brain, and catatonia setting in. One night, while simply trying to load the car to return to our house from Mimi's and Doc's house, Will followed me around crying and whining "No Mama. Hooooold you. Huuuug you, Mama. Hug you. Hold you." Mimi tried to explain to him that I was merely putting things in the car and then coming to get him. He clearly doesn't trust us any more.

Carter is loving Kindergarten. We recently attended our firt parent/teacher conference. The anticipation was horrible. I had no idea what to expect. Mrs. M had sent many emails praising Carter's sweet disposition and ability to follow rules. Clearly, she had two kids mixed up. She thought she was speaking to someone else's parents. But no, we arrived and she told us some amazing facts. She revealed that this son who crumbles to the floor in a toddler-like manner at the smallest rebuttal to his will is mature for his age. This child who has trouble following simple instructions like "please put up your shoes" though told no less than 3 times, is held up to his class as someone to emulate. The stunned look on our faces complemented by the side-long glances Nathan and I were giving each other were quickly recognized, and Mrs. M assured us that Carter is a very intellegent boy who is well liked by his peers. And he probably likes to sit at the table with all girls during lunch because he is more mature than the other boys. Uh, yeah, right. That's why.

Yesterday was Cassidy's family Thanksgiving lunch. Carter's class got to go to the cafeteria first. The children paraded in wearing their Native American tunics and head-dresses. Carter was the last child out of class and his face was that of a boy who'd lost his best friend. Though Nathan and I both inquired the reason for his sad countenance, he refused to offer any explanation. We wondered if it had to do with the skit the class would perform after lunch.

Monday, his teacher told Nathan that she had originally cast Carter as the donkey. When he said his part, "hee haw, hee haw" her aid and his special friend Addyson giggled. That's what they were supposed to do. It was a funny part. Carter got upset and so she changed him to the part of the farmer. I wanted get Carter to talk about it on his own and he didn't disappoint. He told me the same story. "When I said nee-haw nee-haw, Carrie and Addyson laughed. Then I sweated tears out of my eyes, but I didn't make any noise. That's when she changed me to Peter." I explained that Mrs. M probably gave him that part because it was funny and Carter's a funny kid. He seemed bewildered. I could tell that Carter doesn't understand the difference between laughing with him and laughing at him. I told him to watch and see if everyone laughs at the next day.

So, after lunch, Mrs M lined the children up and presented "Too Much Noise." The children were so charming. Each one said their part and seemed so pleased that everyone enjoyed their performance. Carter, however, spoke barely above a whisper. He seemed bashful and timid. When it came time for Marcus and Maya to say "hee haw, hee haw" the group laughed in delight. Carter immediately looked right at me and smiled. He got it. Then, it came to the part where Mrs. M read "And Peter was mad." Carter made his mad face, which it distinctive and dramatic. The crowd errupted and Carter quickly lost all expression and his cheeks reddened with embarrassment. I smiled at him and he rallied admirably. I told Mrs. M that it's hard to believe he can be so shy when he's so demonstrative at home. She assured me that neither does he act to timid among his peers and in class.

Will is a genius. I have been assured it's okay to brag about one's child when it's the truth. I'm sure that advice came from another mother who was bragging. Anyway, he is blowing my mind. It started when somehow, he knew most of his alphabet. I thought my mother was exaggerating when she said "I think Will knows at least 10 letters." Grandmothers are generous with praise, so I took it with a grain of salt. The next day, I was in the kitchen cooking supper and Will started gathering letters. After a I heard probably 15 letters, I just stopped and stared at him as he gathered the letters together. Now he knows 24-25 letters. And he also knows the sound that most of them make.

Then Will started saying his numbers. There is one book that he loves to read that counts up to 10. He will bring it to me, grab my hand, and order "Tount, mama. Tount." We usually have to read it 3 times. He knows all of this numbers between 0 and 10 but whether he knows them in order I can't say. He seems to know parts of them in order. 1, 2, 3. 7, 8, 9. But maybe not putting the whole thing together.

Finally, the other day at lunch, he said "wall words, peeese." Carter has a stack of sight words that we go over nightly. Each week he brings one or two new words home to add. A lot of times, we go over these words at the supper table. So, when Will wanted to go over them at lunch, I shrugged and gave in. I figured I would say each word and he could repeat it. My mouth gaped as Will proceded to tell me most of the words on the cards. If he wasn't sure, he would say "uhm, otts dat?" I would say "this word is 'here'." And he would respond "right, here." I was floored, to say the least. I called Nathan to tell him and he basically informed me that it was old news. He already knew Will was a genius. I have therefore, upped Will's tv time as a precautionary measure. Carter has already been noted as excelling in math; if I don't start now, they will be out-witting me by the time Will is in 4 year Pre-school.

And even though my boys are quickly out-pacing their dear old mom in IQ and physical strength, I love them more each day. Being their mother is by far the most challenging and rewarding job I've ever had. At least once a day, someone sweeps up Will in their arms and he beams his angelic smile and demands "aybody! aybody!" The rest of the family rushes in and we have a big ole hug. And everyone savors it.