• Henryisms,  Life as an Anthoine,  My Family,  Writer

    Tales of a Fourth Grade Tween

    I look at him, stomping around the house, being angry about whatever there is to be angry about today. Three minutes later, I watch him slip over to the sofa and sit as close to me as humanly possible without getting back in my womb. He nuzzles his head under my arm and I can feel him relax. Things are changing. Fourth grade is hard. Being almost ten is hard. He’s not a teen, but he’s certainly not a baby anymore. It’s a purgatory area, those tween years, of being immaturely mature and learning to move through life in a bigger way. In the mornings, we fuss. He’d rather lay…

  • Fun Memories,  Henryisms,  School Days,  Writer

    It was all fine and dandy…

    The morning was great. He got up, got dressed, and even brushed his teeth without my having to ask. The excitement and anxiety was getting the best of him so breakfast was a bust. He decided on some yogurt and water. That’s fine. That’s what I would choose, too. He moseyed into school, tall and confident, saying hi to everyone he passed. That’s my little social butterfly (read: class clown) who never meets a stranger, but if he does, he turns them into a friend. With a quick wave goodbye, he was off to start third grade. THIRD GRADE? Stop it! If only I could stop time. Or at least…