My boy.

I was thinking just recently how proud I am of Elliot's spelling. This morning before he went to school I gave him a pop test on the 10 words he was given for homework and he spelled them all correctly. I am also proud of the progress with his reading he has now started reading in a flowing fashion with expression. Not too bad for a boy who turns 6 in two weeks time.

I am so glad his first year of school has gone as well as it has. Last year when it was mentioned he would go into a composite class (there are 17 year 2 children and 8 year 1's and only two of the year 1's [including Elliot]are boys). I had my reservations mainly from the social perspective but from what I am told - the year 2 boys really enjoy his company and he mixes very well with children in both year 1 and 2. Whenever I pick him up from school I am amazed at how many other children appear to go out of their way to say goodbye to him or greet him when I drop him off.

My feeling proud immediately transformed into immediately feeling guilty because I think the only posts I have ever written in relation to Elliot have been to whinge about him. That is just not an accurate reflection of who he is and his impact on our lives because my boy is possessed of a great sense of humour and can be, most of the time, a lot of fun, very cheeky, extremely well behaved (most of the time at at home and nearly all of the time in the company of others) very loving to his sister, his pets and his Dad and me, his Grandparents, Aunts and Uncles, cousins and his Great Grandmother (with whom he has a beautiful bond).

His Great Grandmother has always told me that Elliot is "her boy" as the mother of five girls she told me that it wasn't until she spent so much time with Elliot that she realised what having a boy was like and she has enjoyed spending time playing all sort of games with him very much. It is very warming to me see how such a close happy bond has formed between a person who is essentially 84 years older than him.

My sister and I were only saying the other day how much we are missing all the Elliotism's - his learning to speak has provided us with so much fun over the last 4 years. One of his favourite sayings for a while was "Ya You" for "Love You" and he would often just pop up in front of you and say "Be Happy - I Ya You". My sister turned that one into a song. When asked "How much do you love me?" he would say "Too much" When called a bossy boots - he replied "Me no wearing boots." Another of his was about chicken and a complaint that "this shicken is shewy". My sister loved that one and quoted it whenever she ate her shicken.

I think I heard one of the last of the Elliotisms the other morning when watching Channel 7's morning program and the male host came on. Elliot turned to me and said "Mum - he is not my coffee" I recall my saying "He is not my cup of tea" about Alan Jones , George Bush and John Howard several times recently when they came on television. I don't think I will be able to say the more recognised phrase ever again - from now on it will be the Elliotism.

I have written quite a few stories of Elliot over the years I just wish I could find them my biggest fear is that I have some on my computer at my old work place and retrieving them will be next to impossible. Its a pity I didn't have this space on cyberspace for them then. But while I want to write about him now and again I didn't want my blog to just be a blow by blow description of Elliot's finest and not so finest moments - although he and Gabriella certainly occupy most of my attention at this time in my life. I am usually careful not to inundate people with the my child did this or my child did that stories - only doting Grandparents should ever have to or want to endure the minutiae of my children's lives.