A random collection about my fourth grader

Perhaps whatever afflicts Braeden and makes it impossible for him to pose like a normal child for a camera is contagious and Mark has caught the affliction.

They do sleep in the same room after all.

Mark won't be a fourth grader for much longer but I am enjoying every minute of it.   Every once in awhile I just have to take stock and record some things because I know how fleeting this time is, this time when he's shorter than me and we have our simple daily rituals and sometimes he just randomly tells me that he loves me.

I may shrivel up and die when he goes to school also.

For now I'll just enjoy it.

Awhile ago, Mark had the following math problem:

Alice arrived at 12:50 and the show started at 1:20.  How early is she?

Mark put his pencil down and said, "She should figure it out herself.  She's the one that got into this mess."

He apparently has little sympathy for people in story problems.

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Mark has created an analogy for the books he has to read for school.  The ones that are part of the curriculum are "draft books." The ones that he reads because he wants to are "volunteer books."  He sighs deeply when he has to read a draft book.  But, as he explained to me, he reads them because just like when you get drafted, you have to do it.

Whatever gets him through.

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He's thinking militarily because we've been learning about World War II.  He has also absorbed interest in history from Braeden.  He loves reading about it.  He insists on reading the World War II book out loud to me instead of the other way around and he has some wild pronunciations that make things even more interesting.  He decided that we should watch one of Braeden's DVDs about D-day.  (It's handy to have a Braeden around who has DVDs about D-day.)

He wanted to watch all 5-6 hours in one sitting and I convinced him that we should pace ourselves and watch a little each day.  (I'm as interested in D-day as the next guy but 5-6 hours?)

We were watching about the Germans building the Atlantic Wall and Mark paused the DVD and said, "Mom, do you think this is interesting?  Because I think this is very interesting."

World War II has crept into his Lego playing:

I told him it reminded me of the beach at Normandy and he said, "Yeah it's sort of a clone trooper D-day."

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Mark sings a lot during the day.  Loudly.  I don't really notice until Emma and Braeden come home and they're trying to do homework and he's singing, "Radioactive, radioactive" at the top of his lungs.  They beg me to make him stop.

Yesterday he said, "Mom, do you think the judges would turn their chairs around for me on The Voice?"

"Yes," I said, "If I were a judge, I would definitely choose you."

"No offense, Mom," he said, "But I don't think they'd let my mom be the judge."

Having your mom choose you isn't that valuable I guess, but I still choose Mark.  Every day.