This morning I gave Logan an exercise to match several words from one list with their synonyms in another list. He was groaning and thumping his head and screwing up his face and saying, "This is so boring." So I gave him something else to do instead. He had to match some products from one list with their brand names in another list. He sailed through this one smiling and said, "This is much more fun." The thing is, in both cases, he was merely matching words together. So what's the difference? Why were the brand names fun and the synonyms boring? When I asked him, he said, "I don't know. I just enjoyed it more." Doing something just a little different from the norm is refreshing.

My older sister is starting a University course in Archaeology and Art. Her two boys are teenagers at school and they all study together at night. She read out some of her essay and tutorial topics and I don't envy her one bit. I'm glad I'm no longer studying at any educational institution. I don't know why, but although parts of the lifestyle were fun and some of the course matter was interesting, I'd crumble when it came time to hand up essays and tutorials. Sometimes I dream that I'm still at Uni and wake up relieved that it really is years behind me. I prefer being at home with the kids far more. I thought that perhaps I just hated the pressure of being evaluated by markers, but when I stop to think about it, I don't mind when my fiction is edited and my editor is just as exacting as any Uni tutor used to be. Although I cringe whenever she gives back anything with pencil lines and comments all the way through it, I'm still happy to get stuck into it because I'm so pleased that it's being sharpened and made better. So what's the difference there? Like Logan, I can't quite put my finger on it. I simply hated writing Psychology essays but like writing fiction. So I really think it's all a matter of passion. If a spark of interest is ignited, you don't mind what you have to do to get something done, but if that spark isn't there, then it doesn't matter anyway. Nothing will make any difference.

We had a public holiday this Monday. We went to visit my sister and her boys. Logan and his cousins spent hours having a great long Warhammer game. They set up a battle scenario and kept referring to the rule book as they played, which is as thick as a dictionary. Logan hates referring to a real dictionary, but somehow, boys don't mind referring to this ponderous rule book which is just as hard. They were enjoying themselves.

I went for a walk with Emma, Blake, my sister and her little dog. Blake walked about 1km on his own little legs and kept stopping to look at things. Lots of things seem to be interesting to him, yet sometimes when I'm reading him a story book, he'll slam it shut right in the middle and say, "The end!" So even two year olds are developing likes and dislikes and passions. I just have to try to keep up with them.