One of the Potato’s more endearing habits, of late, is that he’s started writing little ‘notes.’ They’re not really notes of course–while he has learned to write some letters, he still lacks an understanding of the propering ordering of letters within words, or that they should all be on the same line. Earlier today, he asked me how to spell ‘mommy’–his resulting word took up half a page, and was in no particular order–and yet it warmed the cockles of my matronly heart.
Every once in a while, when I go to bed, I find a little note from him under my pillow, or in the drawer of my bedside table. It’s so endearing, to think of him potatoing up to our bedroom and sneaking me a surprise for later. Last night, he left us a mini-Magna Doodle with a sketch on it.I think he learned this from his sister–who from time to time will leave me a picture or note under my pillow. She generally tells me that I can’t look at it until the next morning–I’m supposed to sleep with a piece of paper crackling next to my ear all night. But princess-like, I can’t, so I usually move it, and replace it the next day.
When I go away on a trip for work, I always leave the kids notes that landisdad gives them in the morning after breakfast. They’re usually not much–just a few lines to let them know I’m thinking about them–but I know they matter. The Potato has taken his to school on occasion, and the one or two times that I’ve forgotten, and had to send an email for landisdad to print out for them, it doesn’t seem quite the same. And whenever I’m traveling, I always have a note or two that the Bee has written, stuffed into my briefcase. Soon enough, I’ll have a mash note from the Potato, too.