When you're 4, sometimes people expect you to know what you're passionate about. They expect you to have something, an activity, and instrument, a ball, something that shows promise and commitment. It's part of the hyper-controlled state of modern parenting I suppose, and I see it almost every day. Now Mateo's been in a few extra-curricular classes: soccer, music, gymnastics, basketball, none of which he was particularly enthused about. Now it's…Karate. He's been going for about 6 months now, and while I can't say he loves it, he doesn't hate it either. He's sort of bobbing in the water, not sinking, not swimming. Passionate? Probably not. He shows more fervor at home kicking his bean bag than he does in class in front of Mr. Yi. 

But that's fine. If nothing else, I get a kick out of his little uniform. And watching him "meditate" at the end of class for all of 10 seconds? I get a kick out of that too. Maybe that's what these classes for preschoolers are really all about: supplying the parents with a few moments of preciousness. I certainly don't expect Mateo (or Nico when he's this age) to know what fuels his fire quite yet. In fact, it may take him quite a long while to find out. But my hope for myself is that I can maintain my distance. Put it in front of him, see if he grabs it, and if he puts it back, it's really all good.