But it couldn't be MY son?!

Oooosh. Could this be my son? Certainly not. I find it hard to believe. Impossible.

Today during spelling I told him to set both hands on the counter and listen to me. What do you think he did? He set his two hands down alright, hovering a mere 1/4" over the counter top. Ooooh baaaaby. I'm not June Cleaver and I'm not a modern parent. He pulled this with the wrong mama.

I physically removed him from the room. There were tears (his) and yelling (mine). Parenting can be especially exhausing when you're 47 and you've already been through it once. Do I have to do it again? Apparently I do. God's sense of humor again, I suppose.

I expected no apology. Stick a fork in him, he was done as far as I was concerned. But two hours later he came out of the bedroom and offered the most complete, most sincere, and the most heartfelt apology I have ever heard from him. I let him come out. And I reminded him, an apology given with the heart must remain solid after the words pass through your mouth. He looked in my eyes and agreed. We'll see. But today it looks like he learned a bigger lessen than not to mess with Mamma during spelling time, and that is how to feel, and how to deliver a heartfelt apology. An important life lesson.

Homeschooling days often surprise me. They tire me and surprise me. I must fortify myself and be prepared for that which I do not foresee; for lesson which are not in my lesson plan.