Signs, Signs, Everywhere Signs...

Those of you who have read this little blog-o-mine over the past couple of years know that I cherish the creativity of my children.

Even when that creativity is used for nefarious means that result in either bodily harm or sometimes merely tears for me, I love it.

Since learning to write, Blake's creativity has taken off in a few ways that don't involve pain for me, and so I encourage this.

Yesterday, Blake decided that he needed to label everything in his room.

He took a pad of miniature Post-It notes and a pen, and proceeded to label things such as "the desk", "the fan",  and "the lamp".

He and his brother share a room, and their bunk bed was identified as "the top bunk", "the botum (c'mon, he's only seven) bunk", and "a ladr".

I'm not sure why the ladder deserved the much less personal "a" rather than "the", but Blake's logic doesn't always make sense to me.

My personal favorite was the lonely little label on a blank expanse of wall labelled---you can see this one coming---"the wall".

He then went on to stick a note on my pants, identifying "Dad's butt".  Notice that on funny words like "butt", his spelling is dead-on.

After his labeling spree, he went and got a large sheet of paper, some tape, and markers and created this for himself:

In case you can't make out the lettering, here's what it says:

"Where are you going?  Wait...where are you going?  Oh, okay, you may pass."

He says that he decided to create this so that "if I'm ever outside and I meet someone who can't hear they can read this letter".

I marvel at---and sometimes fear---the places his mind goes to.

Also, he inspires me; I think I may create a sign for myself, only mine will say "You may pass...but first, you must answer me these questions three"...

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Thanks for reading my ranting, 

Brad

And So It Begins...

Ah, summer break...

Working in a school has its advantages.

First and foremost, of course, is making a daily difference in children's lives...make no doubt about it, I love what I do, and cherish every day that I'm there.

That being said, breaks are good.

I love the fact that I'm off when my kids are.  I don't have to worry about finding somewhere for them to be, and I get to spend my days with them.

Plus, there aren't many jobs where you get two weeks off every Christmas, a week off during spring, and let's not forget the grand-daddy of them all, the one that kids and teachers look forward to with a holy reverance, Summer Break.

I don't like summer, in and of itself.  I don't like heat, and the oppressive humidity that comes with living in the Ohio valley (being a mile away from the river doesn't help much in that respect) often makes me lose the will to live while on my way to the mailbox.

Which is attached to the house.

Right by the door.

That being said, there are lots of good reasons to go outside during the summer, such as the things you can find just in your backyard:

Is this a boy ladybug, or a girl---so confusing...

Or those wonderful trips to the zoo:

Whee!!!!  I'm swimming!

See ya, Landlubber!!!

I'm looking forward to summer this year, heat or not, and I'll be sure to show up here at my poor, neglected blog, as well as Second Star to the Right, more often, since I'll have much more time over the next couple of months.

I hope you'll check back in with me; big things are in store for this year, and it all starts here.

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Thanks for reading my ranting, 

Brad