Brilliant and . . . exuberant . . .

was the description that I received from Jace's teacher in our last parent/teacher meeting. I refrained from adding, adorable, precocious, inquisitive, and self motivated. (I did not think that his teacher would appreciate my alacrity. I felt unequivocally that the exuberant to which she was referring was not entirely complimentary.) I still recall the many instances in life when I myself would have been described as exuberant or perhaps just a brat (I preached my Grandpa Martin into salvation, great for him, but what a mouth on my childhood self!!). Brat has a vast array of synonyms: enfant terrible, holy terror, impudentchild, jackanapes,kid, punk,rascal, unruly child,urchin, whippersnapper, wild one, youngster!! I appreciate this description! We, as a society, look down on children, publicly berating them, labeling and disparaging them; then wonder why they act the way that they do?? They are acting like children!! And will grow to be what we tell them they are!!!!!!!!!!

Jace is my mini me. I can see me, when I look into his eyes.

Same big smile . .

rambunctious nature . . .

pride in uniqueness

Jace knows no grays in life, there is ethical and criminal . . . no equidistant. It is impossible for anybody to be right all of the time, even more so in a society where all of our rights (pun intended) differ so greatly. So, one can easily discern the disappointment that Jace goes through on a daily basis.

Introspective, melancholy at times . . .

One might surmise that Jace is complacent, reticent. But no, he is a convivial child, articulate with an enchanting grin; and will compel even the most austere to laughter.

He is highly self motivated: Jace once told me that he spent his recess working on upper body strength, he was in the first grade at the time.

Jace is always reaching for the stars: He wants to be a Special Forces Medic when he grows up, just like his Uncle Jack!

If you'd like a fresh perspective on life, living, the pursuit of happiness, sit with this, my precious, rambunctious, personable, oh-so-handsome, son, Jace!!

I am in awe of this man!!

Some would say, "He?" "He is just a boy?"!! I, I would beg to differ . . .

DJ is observant, a gift in itself, especially considering his gender :O At age seven, DJ walked out of my bathroom adorned with what would be considered an adult's size bright yellow elbow length rubber gloves, on DJ reaching, in length up to his sturdy little shoulders, and carrying a can of Scrubbing Bubbles, foam lingering on its' nozzle. "Come look, Mom" . . . and then a grand "Tuprise" piped DJ in his adorable lisp, which I must admit to missing . . . most frequently when I hear his husky voice coming from above me, where he now gloatingly resides. DJ, after hearing me complain once too often about cleaning the toilet when I had, clearly, in no way soiled it; had taken it upon himself to don my cleaning gloves, dutifully search out the Scrubbing Bubbles and assiduously clean my bathroom to a brilliant glow. At the trying age of thirteen, DJ maintains his complaisant disposition and continues to clean the bathroom regularly.

DJ has a unique sense of humor, which leads to his contageous laughter, drawing me in even when we are in disagreement about the hilarity of the situation . . . a carfull of teenage girls screaming adorations as they pass in the midst of our photography session . . . he shrugs and laughs . . .his crinkled grin, flushed cheeks, and enticing chuckle draw me in . . . although I find nothing humorous about his adoring audience.

DJ's sense of fortitude is overwhelming. This has not been an uncomplicated year and a half for DJ and his grades began falling drastically. Looking into his tormented eyes, I knew that it was not a matter of his comprehension; but a matter of comprehending heartache and forging ahead regardless of the ache nestled in his heart.

I was confident that DJ's grades would improve because DJ had assured me that they would.

DJ brought me a report card with all A's and two B's last week.

DJ has the most heartwrenching sob that I have ever heard out of a young man. He has only come to me a handful of times since Jack was killed. Each time, I felt it to the very depths of my soul. I have not kept count of the times that I have heard him in the night sobbing into his pillow, nor the times that I have seen traces of tears on his face after he has escaped to be alone for a brief respite.

DJ is, however an optimist, he has an inspiring talent for remembering, in the midst of his sorrow, the incredible memories that he shared with his Uncle Jack. Last night some time after I had tucked Dax into bed, I heard DJ laughing, smiling, giggling; sharing story after story about their Uncle Jack ~most of which they never would have been able to tell Mom, cuz Uncle Jack was "cool" like that!

DJ is strong, both physically and morally. He has been pushing himself to his physical limits this past year and it shows. His Uncle Jack would have been impressed by his "guns" as am I, and equally impressive are the goals that he has set and surpassed to become what he is. His moral strength, in maintaining authentic friendships, is far more consequential, as was the paper that he recently wrote on bullying, which brought me to tears.

IF.....

IF you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too;If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise: If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools: If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!' If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch, if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,

And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

by Rudyard Kipling