Tuesday, September 7, 2010

The playground

Hey there-

I took the dog for a walk this morning. We walked past the playground where Arthur and Henry go to school. As luck would have it Arthur's class was being called in from recess so I had the opportunity to glimpse him in his world.

I love that.

Arthur came around the corner from the "colorful playground" and began to saunter across the black top towards the teacher. He was walking with a friend and talking very animatedly about something very important. I could tell it was important by the deliberate swinging back and forth of his hands and the tilt of his head to the side.

He is never at a loss for words that boy. On our trip to Yellowstone we went horseback riding and Arthur's horse was just behind our guide. He never stopped talking the entire ride. The gal periodically turned towards the rest of the group to fill us in on the topic of conversation. At one point he told her he would "never forget this ride in his whole life".

Where does he get his drama and love of conversation? Hmmmmmmmm, possibly the McGoldrick side?

In contrast, Henry said about two words the entire ride. The guide actually asked me afterwards if he had enjoyed himself. That is just Henry I told her. The next day, after he had a chance to process the event and evaluate the ride against all the other activities we did that day, he let me know what he thought about the excursion.

Where does he get his thoughtful introspection? Hmmmmmm, possibly the Wellenstein side?

Even though people will swear the boys look like twins I don't see it. When I see Henry I see all Wellenstein, and when I see Arthur I see a McGoldrick.

This morning as I watched Arthur confidently stride across the playground I thought how comfortable he looked in his world at that moment. And as I watched him talking to his friend I imagined the teacher telling him to stop talking during class just the way I had been told so many times in class. I shook my head and laughed a bit and thought about the little McGoldrick I had before me.

Just then Arthur stuck both of his hands in his pocket, hunched his shoulders a bit, put his head down and began walking with determination towards the already forming line in front of the teacher.

Oh my, that move was exactly like Bob.

The hair on my arms raised.

Don't forget, Bob reminded me, I had a part in that boy too.

Don't worry, Bob, I will never forget.

Thanks for checking in-



  1. Instant tears, with that shoving hands in pockets bit. Thank you for that. My daughter (19) has been sleeping in (what is now only) my bed the last few nights before she leaves for sophomore year in college. Her dad died 6 weeks before she left for freshman year. So she's sleeping, and I have my hand on her knee over the blankets. She turns over, wakes just enough to feel me there, and reaches out to pat my hand, EXACTLY the same way her father used to do, and would still be doing if there were no such thing as cancer in this world.

  2. This is a beautiful story... thank you for sharing it.

    I love that our kids are a reflection of both sides. And I love that they remind us of it in these subtle ways.

  3. oh, my goodness... and that is why I love you! Thank you so much for sharing!!! With my 2 boys, it's the same thing. One is me (chatty, extrovert) and the other is Brian (watcher, occasionally chatty if interested) yet, it's neat to see the other parent in both of them as well!

  4. I LOVE that Tyler looks exactly like Bill! Sometimes I think it's for a reason. ;)