A Good Thing That Happened Yesterday (Monday) Was...

... Cal received a Certificate of Good Behavior and another Tiger Paws Applause from his teacher and Ella rode her bike to and from the park.

If I could have captured Cal's excitement and pride over having earned this certificate in a bottle, I would have.  It was great.  Genuine.  Pure.

Cal's Certificate of Good Behavior, Tracker and Paws Applause

"Mommy," he started, awkwardly fumbling with the zipper on his backpack as he engaged me.  "I have something to show you," still fumbling.  "I got a certificate from school.  See?" as he finally had success with that zipper, pulled this certificate out of his backpack and handed it to me, a proud smile plastered across his face.

"Certificate of Good Behavior," I said.  "That's great, Baby Bear.  What did you do to get this?"

"I got 20 stamps, see" as he held the next thing he pulled from his backpack as close to my face as he could get it.  It was a small piece of paper, maybe 2x3 inches, and on it were twenty boxes, each with a colored stamp in it.  And squeezed in the area between the top of the 20 boxes and the end of the paper was the name "Cal" written in the tiniest of print.  It was his good-behavior tracker, so to speak.

"What were the stamps for, good behavior?" I asked.  I can't possibly restate Cal's epic and complex response to my question.  Translated, he said, "Yes, for good behavior."

As if the certificate and 20-stamp good-behavior card weren't enough, he also pulled out another Tiger Paws Applause which he had earned that day for doing something good.  I don't think I ever got around to asking what it was specifically for, but usually they're handed out to those students who exhibited good listening skills, such as picking up when asked or helping put library books away.

It probably doesn't need to be said that I was proud of Cal for earning these certificates; what made it 100 times better is how proud he was of it.  This is an image I won't forget.

Somehow, most likely a combination of luck and simplicity (gotta love those fried-egg sandwiches!), I managed to get the kids fed by 6pm.  We had plenty of time to make a trip to the neighborhood park, something Ella had requested as soon as her first foot hit the garage floor when we first arrived home from our days.  The day before, she had made some good progress in learning to ride her training-wheeled bike (if you've never tried to teach a kid to pedal forward, you haven't lived -- apparently, it's not natural), and she was clamoring to get back out there on it.  A trip to the park was a nice excuse to ride.  So by 6:15, the three of us were heading to the park, Cal on his bike, Ella on hers and my hand on her back pushing her as I walked right behind her.

Ella on her Bike, Heading Home

Every once in awhile, I'd let go of her and let her pedal herself forward without my assistance.  Though she would pleasantly remind me to push her, she didn't complain once.  She didn't insist she wanted to quit and take the wagon instead.  She didn't "yell" at me when I let her go on her own.  And she didn't ask me to carry her and her bike from the park.  She pedaled... and pedaled... and pedaled those 3 or so blocks to the park and the same 3 or so blocks back home once we were done playing at the park.

Good behavior?  Pedaling a bike?  There's hope for the Leatherkids yet!  I know this; I just need some reassurance every once in awhile.