As I write this, my son and daughter are playing downstairs. I don't know what they're doing, exactly, but there's a lot of thumping and bumping and they're laughing like crazy. Just listening to them is making me laugh.
My daughter is 12; my son 8. I know lot of parents who have trouble with their kids fighting at this age. After all, Katie is a tween, and Sean isn't too fond of girls his age. But I'm lucky. Since the day Sean was born, Katie has always taken care of him. And he has always idolized her.
In the early mornings, they'd make each other giggle as they watched cartoons and got ready for school. When Sean started kindergarten, Katie held his hand. They'd walk home together.
This year, things changed. Katie started middle school. Sean is still in elementary school. The mornings are quieter. Sean was lonely sometimes, and he said so.
But now they're in class together again - in tae kwon do. For months, Sean has gone with me as we took Katie to class. He'd play and color while I read. He never showed the slightest interest in joining in. Until one day, he did. Last week was his first class. He loves it. She loves being with him in a blended class; she's so proud of him. The teacher thinks it's great.
Tae kwon do is hardly the venue to get overly sentimental. But seeing them together again makes me incredibly happy.
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