Last night, since I was tired, Adam chose a short movie for us to watch. The Red Balloon is a French classic. As we watched (on a laptop, via Netflix of course), and Peter watched ("those boys are gonna burst his balloon!"), I couldn't help thinking how great it would be to use it as a tool to teach symbolism in World Literature. Sigh. Even sitting with my husband on the couch in the evening, I can't get my brain away from work.
Adam's had a hard day, a hard week, a hard month. The middle schoolers are crazy-acting, especially the boys, especially in the spring when the sap is rising in their young veins. Naughty boy behavior is one thing; lack of support from the administration in disciplinary attempts is another.
The drought we've had this past year makes me long for rain, and even though we've gotten plenty lately, I still find myself gazing, mesmerized, out the window at it, as it pelts down, sighing contentedly as it drums the roof. I sit here with Lacey-dog lounging on the floor, Julia and Peter reading books in the living room. Quiet and contentment.
My semester is really going well, and I can't complain. My classes are easy, the students well-behaved. The material is very familiar and requires little preparation. The grading is under control. I find myself wanting to gradually increase the difficulty level on them, testing to see if they've developed enough academically to handle a little bit more.
Today we welcomed into our extended family a new baby, Abraham. My brother and his wife have been very blessed. We're happy for them, thankful for him.