Katie recently started a local nature group. Unfortunately, her first scheduled event was washed out this past Sunday by cold, heavy rains and gusty winds. I’m sure her efforts are going to eventually help a lot of children and families spend time together outside. There is growing evidence that children spending time in nature is both a prevention and a cure for many health and learning issues that face our young folks these days. If you can’t attend the events, I encourage you to take a look at the website: http://going.snappages.com/ Or – Follow GOING on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/GOINGNatureClub - where Katie shares some great ideas about how you and your family can enjoy nature, as well as some beautiful pictures. I’m very proud of the work she has put into pursuing one of her passions in life. I think the most vigorous pursuit of our passions often comes when we share them with those around us. OK, that officially ends my shameless plug for my wife’s project. I must now offer up a disclaimer: once you start a movement, you really have no idea where it might end up. Ian has recently had a struggle that Elliott had when he was Ian’s age. He has developed some sort of mental block against pooping on the potty. I suppose I should use the universal bathroom code here and say he has a problem with going #2, especially since Ian came home last night and informed us one of the boys in his class said a bad word, and upon further questioning we discovered the bad word was “poop”. I had to inform Ian that if “poop” is indeed a bad word, we owe it to the rest of the world to tattoo a big R on his forehead. By now you’re thinking I’ve really lost my way with this post, but I assure you I know where I’m going with this. So I walk in the house the other day and Elliott greets me at the front door, “hello Cormorant bird,” he says. “What?” “Hello Cormorant bird,” he said. “No, I meant, what on earth is a Cormorant bird?” “Don’t you remember, we saw one at the cabin?” he answered. I do remember them talking about a Cormorant bird. I guess they spend so much time talking about fictitious creatures, both from this planet and fictitious ones, that they store in their fictitious barns, that sometimes I have no idea if the animals they refer to are even real. Apparently, the Cormorant bird is. And I am one. And here is what one looks like: I had barely finished processing Elliott’s newfound ability to incorporate his love for nature into his love for calling his dad goofy names (this would be a good place to remember my comment about pursuing passions by sharing them with others), when I looked down the hall into the bathroom to this site: If you’re wondering if that is Ian sitting on the toilet looking quite comfortable reading a bird identification book, wonder no more. It is. And if you’re wondering if I was more shocked to see Ian sitting on the toilet without screaming “it’s gonna hurt” or “I don’t have to go” than I was to see him flipping through the endless excitement of a categorized listing of North American birds, I don’t know. I do know this, though, if the nature movement in our house has helped us master the bowel movement, I’m on board. I’ll stock a book shelf in the boys’ bathroom with material that will make the local Audobon Society Library look anti-nature. I’ll turn the sink into a bird bath and I’ll stock the tub with trout. I’ll do anything to help Ian conquer his fear of poop (pardon my language).
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