We started out as usual. We ran some errands, exercised our bodies, read some Dr. Seuss to celebrate his birthday week, and read our storybook for the week. We discussed hyperbole and had plans to learn about tornadoes and vanishing point later today. We ate lunch, had quiet reading and phonics.
As the kids rotated out of our phonics station, it happened.
Our afternoon took on a life of its own.
One by one, they moved on from phonics. Each asked if he could color until time was up.
I went out to check on them. To make sure they weren't using markers on the walls, the floors, the chairs or...each other. Amazingly, they weren't.
What they were doing was writing books.
Each of my crazy, silly, very active boys was sitting still, quietly writing an all-new mystery for Scooby Doo and the gang. They were developing villains, leaving clues, making traps, and catching bad guys. These books were complete with dialogue, description, and illustrations.
Twisters and vanishing point could wait.
There was learning happening. In a way that I couldn't have scheduled, planned, or organized. Their creativity and curiosity had lead them straight into what they wanted to focus on today.
They have taken over the entire living room. And I couldn't be happier.