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On our way to Louisiana, we stopped to see the Gulf of Mexico at Dauphin Island, Alabama. I was “missing the beach.” I occasionally find myself in a state of longing for sand, waves, shells, and the breeze off the ocean. Years ago, my Hawaiian friend, standing on the coast after a year of being landlocked, described it best to me.  “I can breath again,” she said.

We drove the length of the island admiring the brightly painted houses on sticks. Large piles of blown sand and puddles of ocean water covered the two lane road. Dale maneuvered the van slowly forward until we arrived at the end and the undeveloped beach. The parking lot was under a significant amount of sand, so the coke machine in the distance looked a bit out of place. If a hurricane came through there, I don’t know how any of those houses would withstand it. Such beauty, but so perilously lived.

The beach was fabulous. Undeveloped white sand, lots of shells to find, and calm waves. Gabe and Zeke were soon soaked through. I had them roll up their pants at the start, but they figured when near the water, it’s best to jump in.

We had the red bucket with us, and it was soon so heavy from shell collecting, it had to be left behind while we explored further. There were a few other families and their dogs on the beach and one guy fishing.

When we had finished looking on the other side of the island, Dale and the kids raced back. As usual, Josiah heard “race back” and missed “to the bucket.” Josiah raced directly to the opposite beach. Everyone else raced to the bucket. Dale finally beat Josiah in a race. He is certain he can beat him again. He just needs Josiah to run the wrong way.

Ezekiel taught himself his numbers. Ezekiel taught himself his letters. Ezekiel taught himself to read. Ezekiel taught himself to add and subtract. I tell this information to people I meet when they comment on how much time I must spend schooling him.

No one believes me. They are convinced that I am some pushy mother drilling my kindergartener daily in pursuit of creating a spelling bee champion. I will admit that pushy mother evidence collected in the past especially in reference to my first child would most likely hold up in court. However, Zeke is my fourth child.

Third children and beyond realize quite quickly that they are on their own. If they want to succeed, they better do it themselves. Zeke has taken this knowledge to heart and using memorization and repetition, he learns something new.

Over the last year, his focus has been on memorizing the fifty states. It started with collecting the fifty state quarters. Dale printed out a two page flyer with the picture of the state quarter and the state name on it. Multiple times each day, Zeke placed the quarters on the picture spot and recited the names. The day he received the 50th state was a happy day indeed.

For his birthday, he received a wooden state puzzle which he carries about and places states in and out of to further his recitation. He reads license plates when we are driving to see how many different states he can find.

Last month, Gabe came home from fourth grade with the list of state capitals that he must memorize by the end of the year. This task filled Zeke, not Gabe, with great excitement  and the learning of state capitals commenced.

The learning process does not involve only Zeke. Since everything is a game and competition with him. I am quizzed as well. “What is the capital of South Carolina?”, he will ask me. When I stop and think too long, he’ll say, “Want a hint?”

Admittedly, the child can be a bit annoying. He was annoying me so much yesterday when he started to sing the state names with a pitchy made up tune, that in a moment of desperation, I looked on youtube to find a rendition of “fifty nifty united states.”

Dale and I were forced to sing that song in the prep school chorus. I couldn’t stand it and personally never wanted to sing it again. Yet, I now found myself forced to sing along again to it’s endless repetition.

Zeke had also decided that just asking the name of the capital was not difficult enough. So, he invented the next level, the following quiz game:

“A dog lives in Alaska and he runs away to a state whose capital starts with S” (the state the dog lives in and the letter of the state capital can change).

You must then answer the correct state name. His Kindergarten teacher was taught this game during snack time one day. She proudly answered “California. Sacramento, California.” Zeke told her she was wrong. That was not the state capital he was thinking of. She told me her brain started to hurt as she scrambled to think of another capital that started with S.

I am hoping that he did not ask “Do you want a hint?” But, I’m not betting on it.