His energy level was through the roof, so we spent some time at the playground today. He chased and slid and climbed and ran. I had received some hard news that morning, so it was nice to sit without being spoken to for a few moments. I scrolled through my phone mindlessly as I processed.    He called to me and wanted me to watch him do a cool trick. I looked up and kept a steady gaze upon him. I did not look away because I knew he would check to see if I was still watching. Every few moments he checked again. He got to the spot for the cool trick and checked once more. I never looked away. I saw him do all he wanted to show me, and although it was nothing out of the ordinary, he was so visibly pleased that I watched. His smile exploded. Then I asked him to show me more. We talked—him from the top of the play structure, me from the shaded picnic table— about each part of the playground, which slide did which turn, how the sun made this one too hot to enjoy and how that one was super ea

                                                                                                                                                 Photo by  fotografierende  on  Unsplash . Thank you. *Most of my posts are considerably shorter than the following. I'm posting this because the online magazine for which it was originally written has shut down. Scroll on by unless writing in education is your jam. Original date of publication was May 2018*       I am a product of public school education which taught a plug and play model of writing. Teachers gave sample sentences and we were to form ours similarly while trying to display our own creative abilities. This wasn’t a bad method necessarily, but rather limiting to say the least. We were taught that sentences had subjects and predicates, paragraphs had an opening sentence, two or three points and a final sentence, and that essays were built with four or five of these paragraphs. Writing was like building a retaining wall with st

    This moment often takes place while I’m still waking (or sleeping, let’s be honest!). Gil tries to rise before the boy because it seems our house functions remarkably different when he comes down and sees dad before anything or anyone else. He is calmer, quieter, and noticeably more settled all day. They talk about mysterious things, sometimes discuss the day ahead, and read scripture. Hopefully this habit of morning time with his father will develop into morning time with his Heavenly Father as he grows up.