The Dark Elephant

We just shipped the boys off to school. It was such a warm, pleasant, snuggly sort of morning that I wanted to write a blog post about it. 

There's a lot of drama going on around here. We've had plenty of drama in the past nine years and I've always written about about it on the blog, But, now, I can't. Or I can't just yet. It's the mean elephant in the dark hat that is perched on my kitchen counter glaring at me. 

Despite the mean elephant, life is pretty good right now.

Jonah continues to elongate. He is growing into the adult that I always wanted him to be. Hard working and kind. He floats around the soccer field with his skinny legs sticking out of his black shorts. Stick figure legs. The coach puts him on defense, because he barks out instructions and encouragement to the other players on the field. When did he get that much confidence? 

Over the summer, Ian learned how to talk. He makes grammatical errors and gets stuck on certain topics, but the words are there. He can deal out those words like playing cards and have marvelous conversations. He wants to know if it snows in the winter, because Pluto flies closer to Earth. He wants me to explain how a microwave works. He likes to diagram sentences to identify the adverbs and the adjectives. He's beating the average in his mainstream math class. 

Ian hums a little tune to himself as his assembles Lego in the basement.

Yesterday, Jonah showed me his short story for English class with pride. He can write. He's my boy. 

The boys know nothing of the Dark Elephant and that's a good thing. Their joy helps to mock the Dark Elephant and shrink him down to mouse-shaped proportions. 

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12 thoughts on “The Dark Elephant

  1. So, is Jonah taller than you yet? My eldest is (mind you, I’m not tall, and my kiddo is a girl). I just read an essay in which a mother had to take her kiddo to buy a suit in the middle of a bar mitzvah, because he literally had nothing that fit him any more. She told him to “take himself to the men’s department” and choose what he wanted (because he didn’t care for his taste, and taste of his own). She then described having to stand on his tip toes to give him a kiss.
    I have a why boy, too, and our thrill was recently answering his own why for himself (about how sound could make something fall — “it’s the vibrations.”).
    I am continually surprised about how much joy my children give me. It’s a part of children that I didn’t understand at all before I had them.
    Sorry about dark elephants. We call them squirrels around here (because a friend, who, in the middle of a health crisis, discovered squirrels in the attic they had to deal with). Squirrels seem a bit less threatening.

  2. I hear ya bj. My 11YO daughter is already 5’6″ and wears size 10 women’s shoes. It’s trippy. This is the same kid who screamed in delight upon arrival at Harry Potter World. It all goes so quickly.

  3. He’s not taller yet, but give him another week. It’s funny to see him grow because he’s only going up, not out. He’s being stretched like that Stretch Armstrong. Suddenly, he’ s in the 17% for weight. We need to fatten that kid up.
    The good thing about elephants and squirrels is that they make for excellent writing material, just not on this blog yet. I’m hard at work on something.

  4. “I am continually surprised about how much joy my children give me. It’s a part of children that I didn’t understand at all before I had them.”
    That’s so sweet @bj. Makes me want to hug my kids.

  5. Bless the boys for the bright lights they bring to your life.
    I’d send you one of those old books of elephant jokes to read to the dark elephant and send him away in chagrin. Still looking to find it but hopefully the elephant will go away all on his own, ASAP!

  6. oh, I’m sorry about the dark elephant and second my friend Anjali’s wishes.
    But I’m glad the boys don’t know about it. Your gorgeous boys that always make me so thankful for my own because, darn it, we have such wonderful sons and awww… I’m going to cry and blah blah. (my apologies 😉
    And I love the way you describe Ian’s talking! 🙂

  7. Eldest Raggirl is 11 years old and rapidly approaching eye level. Last night we were in the middle of punishing her for poor behavior. “You’re acting like you don’t understand!” I yelled. “But I do understand,” she responds. “What you mean is . . .” and then explains in a way that makes it clear that she does not understand at all.
    Oh, wait. She’s only 11 years old. Not an adult. Never mind. It’s 10 o’clock at night, so can’t really watch TV or play video games any more tonight. But punishment revoked in the morning.

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