Calvin, Charlie, Einstein, Schroeder and Winnie The Pooh

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My son is growing up. He just turned eleven last week. And I still pull hairs from my hoary, greying head. No, he's not a bad troublesome kid. He's like the misunderstood seven year-old Calvin of Calvin and Hobbes-- by those who don't live with him and don't really know him at all. A smart, teasy musical Schroeder (Peanuts) to his freshly turned teen sister. Very sensitive young girl related to "my insensitive menacing little brother who will not stop until his issues are discussed.” But they grow up together. Home-schooling bonds them, supposedly. And they’re stuck together-- for better or for worse. I refuse to admit it, but, yeah, I sometimes feel that way, too, as their home-schooling forbearing perfect mother. I think, with his constant chatter-box brain of Einstein’s (and mouth), I need to explain to him that as a mom, I learn so much from him as he is growing up every day inspiring me to simply enjoy life as he relishes his with alive-and-kicking sort of way. Full of beans, is this my boy! A science-dreamer inspired by Grant Thompson of The King of Random. Our house hasn’t blown up yet, which I’m overjoyed. Today, a bit of my soliloquy about him--my son is the sweetest, lovable boy as Charlie Brown and huggable Winnie The Pooh put together on earth. It’s been a tireless day for him today. He was glad that our bus ride didn’t have to sit-belt him. Yes, he sat next to me and chatted on our entire trip to the Discovery Science and shops. Good night for now. I love my little boy to bits!