Pop Tarts and Profiles

Tonight I looked at my son's profile in his night light. He was singing the lullaby I made up and taught him as a baby. He was singing loud and proud (whether to annoy his baby brother a few feet away or to impress me remains to be seen).

In the soft angles of his face I could see the profile of the boy he is becoming. I am achingly aware times to cuddle before bed will disappear; replaced by texting and gaming and complaining. Yet this night, tonight, I was beside him, singing along.

The other morning we shared a miracle. My first born has struggled with reading and numbers. I have turned the house into one ginormous letter matching game. On a whim, I bought funky Nascar pop tarts. They have race cars and cool graphics. Frankly, it's a blatant attempt to get him to finish breakfast, his least favorite meal (unless it's for dinner).

While I was packing his lunch, he asked, "Why does Daddy have 'off' on his keys?"

Hm? Off on his keys? I walked over. Ian read the label on my husband's key ring. He read a word we had never 'worked' on. He read it, because HE CAN READ. I could have cried. Okay, I misted. We then 'read' the pop tarts with their cool racing facts.

We took him for the first time to see Nicole, his tutor. She's this wonderfully enthusiastic, soft spoken elementary education major I met at Curves. After tutoring, she shared assessment results. I held my breath. Our last assessment showed that he actually knew less letters. He was not only at risk according to the test, he might need to repeat kindergarten. She was smiling. He knew all his letters. HE KNEW THEM ALL.

We still have tough, prayer soaked, decisions to make regarding his education next year. I'm beginning to exhale and relax. Right now it's more important to cuddle and read how often race cars change their tires before they melt. It's more important to see his profile in night lights and eat some pop tarts.






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