Today, my son spit on another child at school. Low, low, low. This marked the first time the teacher actually called during the school day to talk about behavior. She asked me to talk to Isaac on the spot for a minute, and I did. Strict consequences followed at home (no getting to play with the friend who came over for a playdate), and sadness all around. Stark contrast to yesterday's extravagant fun-daddy-times (an entire afternoon spent on a hiking adventure to Lake Powhatan) and this morning's lazy we'll-watch-the-paving-machines-and-be-late-to-school-because-after-all-they're-theoretically-blocking-the-driveway-or-at-least-they-said-they-would-be event. Perhaps all the extravagance lent to the disastrous behavior today. It's the end of the school year. Our child is growing and changing. One thing's for sure, though--sugar was not to blame, as there was none in evidence today. Oh well.
I'm so glad for:
* a husband who mostly sees eye-to-eye with me on disciplining our son and is a wonderful leader of a father and husband
* Pies in Disguise
* fuzzy baby noggin under my chin as we read "The Very Hungry Caterpillar" and examine the holes in the pages
* the little ones' art group and lovely messy paint!
* my beautiful supportive friends who jump for me when I need to change plans at the last minute
* grace to parent well on hard days
* difficult conversations about religion
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