I was trying to read "The Ecology of Human Development."
My son had other ideas.
This is the rhythm of our lives.
We share space often, engaging in our parallel activities. With one caveat: the quality of my attention.
By that I mean: my attention rests on the tension between his interests and mine.
That’s how it started.
Sometimes this is where ideas surface.
How about the book?
Not quite settled into the reading.
Reading out loud.
Hmm…there’s something about this page.
Engrossed.
Eventually…the body wins.
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