This great line from The Gifted School by Bruce Holsinger is the thought of a grown woman, a scientist, lamenting over how good it felt to simply stare at a brain sliver without having another purpose, an agenda or a research article to write. I read it and I thought, man, I hope my teenagers never lose the wonder and excitement they found so easily when they were little.

This book spotlights the extent that parents and children feel they need to go to achieve academic success. For my own children, I’ve strived to instill the important of education in them, but also a sense of balance and fun. I want them to know the value of learning outside the classroom, with no regard for standardized tests, and of observing and appreciating the world around them. Sometimes, I think they’ve heard me.

Last week as I was rushing my daughter out of the house so she wouldn’t be late for dance, she stopped in the kitchen and said, “Mom, look how pretty the sky is.” And I did. Swallowing my irritation, I stopped to enjoy the bright colorful painted canvas the sky had become as the sun began to set. It only took a few seconds, and she was late, but it was worth it.

When was the last time I felt like a child, or looked at something with child-like wonder, or did something just for fun? Whether I was cooking or shopping or writing or exercising – all my activities had grown up goals and responsibilities attached to them.  What could I do just for the fun of it? It would have to be something I would enjoy with no adult end result, something that didn’t need to be done, something that would simply entertain the child in my soul. 

And then, I spied the gingerbread house I bought at Trader Joe’s in December. My son had asked me to buy it for him and his sister to build together. It’s February and it’s still sitting in the box.  I even left it out on the counter last week so they would see it. That’s it, I decided. I will build it and I will build it for no other reason than it’s fun to do. I don’t need to serve it to guests, I don’t even need to eat it. Building it and looking at it will be enough. My daughter saw me taking the pieces out of the box, laying everything out on the counter, and studying the instructions.

“Why are you doing that now?” she asked.
“Because it looks like fun,” I answered.

I giggled and smiled and hummed throughout the building of that gingerbread house. And, it was just the right amount of fun that I needed.

Thanks, Bruce Holsinger, this is one great line!

If you want to read more about The Gifted School, click here.

If you’d like read about me and why I started this blog click here.