John, who is 6, is our little artist. If he is off somewhere quietly, I know he is drawing pictures. His hands are permanently stained from markers. There are pictures he drew in every room of the house, taking over all horizontal surfaces, as well as my fridge doors.
In the past, when he was younger, he often expressed himself artistically on our walls. Often, he would scribble "John Mom Dad" somewhere with a black Sharpie. He wasn't even old enough to figure out that if you are going to scribble on a wall, you should probably not include your name. Sharpies are banned within the four walls of our house, but sometimes they end up here when my husband conveniently empties his pockets on a low shelf within the younger kids' reach.
Well, Johnny no longer draws on our walls. I can't say that I miss it, but it feels as if in a few more years, I will. When I see his old scribbles in a spot where I was unable to remove them, it makes me pause and smile. John is such a gentle, thoughtful soul, with such a big heart. He is well loved by all three of his little sisters because he is a perfect big brother, kind and helpful and patient.
This year, as John is starting 2nd grade, he got his first ink fountain pen. This pen is made especially for young children just learning to write because it glides easier than a pencil, and does not ruin neat penmanship the way ball point pens do. In Germany, kids in elementary school are usually only allowed to use either pencils or fountain pens for writing.
For John, this is big stuff, because he is always trying to keep up with his two older brothers who had received their first fountain pens years ago. All day long, he sits and writes stuff now. And being the sweet soul that he is, he wrote me a whole bunch of little love notes and hid them all through the house today.
This one made me scratch my head. I am blaming my husband, who likes to embarrass me every time he picks me up somewhere by yelling "Hey there, hot mamma!" across the parking lot.
"You are a hot mom"
On this next one, again, I blame Dad. But isn't it so cute? :)
"I think you are the bomb!!!"
Oh, the lucky lady that gets to marry my little boy one day, complete with his heart of gold and all. I am so blessed.