…where a brave and beautiful bunch gather every week to find out what comes out when we all spend five minutes writing on the same topic and then sharing ‘em over here.
“Momma. I need a pen. I need to write down how well I did on my math test and leave it for Daddy to read when he gets home tonight.”
“Q-u-a-i-l. Good! Good job writing your name! You did it all by yourself!”
“Momma, here’s the list. I asked the Quail who she wants to come to her birthday party and then I wrote it down for you.”
“Me. Yes. Write. Name. Me. “
They do what they see, right? They learn from what we do. Momma typing on the computer. Daddy writing the grocery list. Their teachers writing on the pro-boards. Their friends coloring in the valentine hearts. And they pick up their pens, and their crayons, and their markers and their chalk and they scribble and turn the paper and write the letters they’ve studied on the refrigerator, on the TV, in the books we read to them, in the books they are learning to read to themselves.
“Momma- let ME make a webpage. Let ME type in the webpage I want. Let ME write the list. Let ME call Gramma by myself. Let me write the story that goes with that picture”
Suddenly they are not the babies I hold, and wipe up and dress and feed. Suddenly they are individuals with opinions, and ways of doing things and rules they want to follow and enforce of their own. Suddenly they are alternate versions of myself writing their own story that I can’t put down.
It happens faster than you’d think doesn’t it? My oldest will be 18 this year and I have NO idea where those years went. But I can’t wait to see the stories they’re all (4) going to write! Popping over from FMF.
Your writing makes me cry more often than any other, I think. It’s a good cry, though.
You are so sweet Leah!