tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11416493.post-79505313496852330872008-03-30T22:39:00.003-04:002008-03-30T23:09:36.965-04:00I took a peek at some of my daughter's homework the other day. The class is learning how to count coins. For some reason, this seems advanced to me. I don't remember knowing about coins and money until I was much older. Mia is somehow picking this stuff up.<br /><br />Of late, Mia's been obsessed with her Nintendo (she's really become adept at Mario Kart DS) and <a href="http://www.webkinz.com/">WebKinz</a>. I don't remember playing video games when I was her age, because they weren't invented yet. I certainly didn't know or remember passwords when I was her age, yet here is Mia, carefully instructing me not to reveal her WebKinz password.<br /><br />I take her to school every morning that I am able. I've looked on at the parents of her classmates, and I sense the same feelings: warmth; pride; love. Raising a child is ordinary and extraordinary at the same time. One minute I'm blinking tears at her sweetness, and the next minute I find myself yelling at her to get dressed for school. <br /><br />Mundane. Profound. And she's now seven.Rickhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15631129573462276625noreply@blogger.com