An Old New Desk

A while back we set up a desk in the bonus room for my daughter.   I put lots of things on it for her to do braille, coloring, cutting, stapling, taping as well as her homework.   I stocked it with supplies and put her braille machine on a small table beside the desk.   She loved it.   

And so did my son.  He kept trying to use her desk, which made my daughter mad.   My son already had a desk, my husband’s desk from his childhood, in the room right off my children’s bedroom.   Only my son never wanted to use it.   I found out why when my daughter’s desk was set up: his desk was in a dark room with poor lighting and no windows.   He didn’t say so exactly, but I gathered it wasn’t a conducive environment to do things.  

I thought about it and realized we could bring his desk into the bonus room, add a lamp and a real office chair and my son would have the same environment my daughter had with windows and space.   Moving the desk was on my list of things to do for a while, but since the desk was solid oak and wouldn’t fit through the doorway without removing the door and tipping the desk on end, I put it off. 

Yesterday my husband and I spent a while moving the desk, putting the hutch from his 1980’s era desk on top and then stocking it with paper, pencils, a pencil sharpener, tape, etc. to make it a nice workspace for my son.  

When I brought my son home from school I took him upstairs to see his desk and he was thrilled.   He sat down and looked at everything there and talked about the things he wanted to do at his “new” desk.  

We haven’t told my son yet about the secret hiding spots behind the speaker covers that are velcroed on yet.  He’s too excited about all the other things he’s going to do with his new (old) desk.

The Big Boy Update:  My husband and daughter were at Y Guides the other night and just before dark my son asked me if I could play baseball with him.   I told him sure, but I didn’t know how to play baseball.   That was alright, he said, he’d teach me.  In the front yard he showed me how to put on the baseball mitt and then we spent a good while throwing the baseball back and forth.   He explained I was suppose to throw the ball right at him.   He wasn’t aware of my inability to throw accurately.   But he told me I got better the more I practiced.   We played into dusk, when we couldn’t see the ball well enough to catch it anymore. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter was on her iPad this evening when my husband returned from showing houses and running errands.   He had started cooking, something I don’t think my daughter realized until she caught the smell from the kitchen.   She suddenly said, “wait, are we having pasta for dinner?”   She knows the smell of her favorite food well.