This week, Miles received his first major school assignment. He was, with us (the directions made no secret of the need for parental “assistance”), to create a building of any sort to wrap up his class’s current unit. Receiving these directions on Tuesday wasn’t particularly helpful as far as I was concerned, since my evenings would be consumed with trivia shows for the duration of the week. And so it fell to Jaclyn to provide Miles with suitable assistance (which of course is parent for “do 99% of it herself”).
Using boxes, foil, and construction paper, they made not one but two buildings for the class display. Why two? Well, they needed both buildings to really get the point across. Oh, they also needed balloons.
I loved what they did with the project, but was bummed that, aside from buying some of the materials, I didn’t really get to contribute. That’s why it was important to me to leave work early this afternoon to come to Miles’s class for the big project presentation.
Between the parents and the children, there were a lot of people crammed into the classroom today, and Miles didn’t immediately notice me. But if I could bottle the pure joy on Miles’s face when he looked across the room and saw me standing there, it could sustain me until I lived to be 200. He practically squealed with delight (but remained seated out of respect for the student presenting). We communicated silently across the room throughout the presentations until it was finally our turn to talk about what Miles had made.
In a way, I was fortunate to have played such a trivial role in the creation of the model, since every question I asked Miles about what it was and how it was made was completely sincere. Miles, however, wasn’t completely forthcoming with answers, perhaps feeling a little stage fright in what I assume must’ve been his first time really formally addressing a group of his peers. But Miles was proud of his project, and it was an amazing moment to share together.
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 