"Talk to Grandma," his mother said. She loves diaries!"
The next time the boys stayed with us for the weekend, I arranged a special shopping trip with Brody. While his brother Kai stayed home with Grandpa and worked on a complex Lego project, Brody and I hit the local bookstore.
Fortified with Starburst candy to ward off "car sickness," we spent half an hour looking at diaries. Brody carefully examined each diary, his forehead wrinkled in concentration. Finally he handed me two books. One had colorful '60's style peace symbols and the other was dark gray, done in dragon motif.
"One is to take home and the other one is to leave at your house when I come to visit."
But of course! Who am I to argue with logic like that?
When we arrived at home, Brody carefully labeled both diaries with his name.
Next, came the important pencil decision. Would it be sparkly purple, a thin navy blue mechanical pencil or, a Zebra #2, HB, 0.7mm mechanical? The Zebra pencil won.
Finally, where would the Grandma's house journal be stored? Obviously, somewhere in the "boys' room" (AKA, the guest bedroom.), perched carefully on a bookshelf.
Dinner that night was described as "Grandma made a feast." Grandpa's special eggs for breakfast were labeled "awesome."
How do I know what Brody wrote in his journal? He chose to carefully read every word aloud to us. Twice.
Later that evening, after the boys had returned to their home, I sat quietly by myself in my home office. I certainly was not a wimpy grandmother! But my own journaling practice was looking a bit, well, wimpy.
I took a moment to experience the gratitude I felt for my eight-year-old, diary-keeping grandson. Then I sat down to write.
P.S. Remember, if you haven't done so before, take advantage of our Complimentary Coaching Consultation and we'll talk about what you need to get over your wimpy journaling.Phone (800) 552-WRITE, that's (800) 552-9748 or write to me at susan@susanborkin.com to find out more.
No comments:
Post a Comment