My younger son spends most mornings at the kitchen table, creating robots out of duct tape & household debris.

An empty container of strawberries here, a roll of tape there, and I have another odd creation on my kitchen table.

The older son has also bought into the duct tape craze, making wallets, fountains, and yes, more robots.

I grit my teeth a bit as I remove the tape from the recyclables at the dump, but as a whole, I like the creativity involved. I can get behind the Duct Tape Revolution.

¡Viva La Cinta Para Ductos!

I keep this picture close because it reminds me that my boys are going to be okay when we move to Spain.

They take something simple and functional, and adapt it to their needs. They make a twisted beauty out of literal garbage.

My oldest started first grade here, and will start first grade again in a month. In another country. I mourn that he will walk away from a good school.  I hope the DoD school will also recognize his humor, his skills, and his need for affirmation and structure.

And my youngest? I know even less. We’re hoping there is room for him at the preschool there. Let him make friends, and learn his letters, and find people who recognize his dear, introverted heart.

Mothers fret. The unfamiliar scratches, and I yearn to snip it away, like I trim the tags from my kids’ garments.

But then, I remember the duct tape. Flexible. Strong. Fun.

This is what I want my children to be.

These are the lessons that-–pardon me, I must–-adhere.

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