I'll answer your questions from yesterday's post since I really don't have time for much else today (Sadly, I'm busy doing boring professor stuff, not entertaining mommy stuff like digging whale aquariums).
Ethan is 11. Yes, he is in a gifted program and we homeschooled him before that. But honestly, he pretty much came that way. His mind is a complete mystery to me: able to leap tall abstract thoughts in a single bound; unable to remember where he put his jacket, important school papers, or the book he was just reading 30 seconds ago. (Poor boy got the scatterbrained gene from his mother's side).
Ethan is a blessing in our home in many ways, one of which is to give me something to brag about (look at these test scores! listen to what he can play on the piano! read this amazing blog post he wrote!) and another one of which is to keep me humble because I worry that I'm failing him as a mother and clueless about what to do with all his creativity. He's my oldest child and I've always felt like he was one step ahead of me, as evidenced by this photo from 10 years ago.
Yes that's my Child Development texbook. This is my favorite picture of Ethan as a little boy, although his Hoover Dam costume runs a close second.
Anyway, thanks for making comments on Ethan's blog, which until yesterday was set to private status. I promised him if he finished writing the bird post I would let him try out the public blog scene for at least a while. I am very protective of him but willing to test the blog waters a bit for the sake of giving him a creative outlet. I also didn't want to see that particular post end up in the "save as draft" graveyard where many of his other lovely but unfinished efforts rest collecting cyber dust. He was thrilled to see your comments, especially since he reads my blog faithfully and your names have earned celebrity status with him. "Wow Mom, Radioactive Jam even read my blog. He's totally famous. He won a Blog God award and between two and four billion people visit his blog every day." Such admiration and faith in fine print is hard to come by. I wish I could keep him 11 years old forever.