Tomorrow is the last day of school. They just keep moving on. Next up, fifth and eighth grades.
Today was the last day at the preschool where I work. Parents were tearfully snapping end-of-year photos of their five year olds. Their children are done with preschool and ready for kindergarten. The parents are not ready for kindergarten. I know I wasn't. I wasn't ready for middle school. And the talk of high school makes me dizzy.
Pook's first day of preschool was the beginning of a big change for me. For the first time he'd had a day full of new experiences and I hadn't been part of them. And he told me nothing about them. I wanted to share in his day. I asked him open-ended questions to lead him into longer stories. In the end, all I ever learned about his preschool days was who he sat with for lunch. In elementary school I learned what he ate for lunch. In middle school I only know that they do eat lunch, but what else happens is a mystery. Just like all of Pook's days.
Bug tells me a bit more. Sometimes I hear stories about his friends and the silly things they do. And yet it is still all factual. There is no commentary. Maybe this is a trait held by more girls. How do you feel? What are you thinking? Can I see inside your brain and into your heart?
Showing posts with label education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label education. Show all posts
Friday, May 23, 2014
Thursday, March 20, 2014
storytime by Bug, fourth grade language arts
Sucked Back in Time
by Bug
"Houston, We have a problem." They were aboard the Explorer, a spacecraft on it's way to Pluto. This was the year 3264. The engines had cut a long time ago, and they were hurtling through space at speeds of 986,734,976 miles per hour. In just a few days, Captain John Richards, and his crew, Nathan Brown, Jimmy Johnson, and Mike Samson would reach their destination. The radio cut in.
"What is the problem? over."
"We are exelorating too fast. The speedometer is rapidly climbing, and we have no way to induce drag!"
"We can't do anything for you! We wouldn't be able to reach you!"
Pluto began to come into view, but they were going too fast. The hurtled past pluto, and out of the solar system. Suddenly, the radio cut. They were on their own.
The Explorer started to ignite from the sheer speed. The craft was burning up. Suddenly, the ship was sucked into a worm hole.
Part 2
The crew of the Explorer woke up in a spaceship. A different spaceship, but still a spaceship. This spaceship was Apollo 11, and the year was 1969. The captain of this spacecraft was Neil Armstrong. If everything went right, then his crew would be the first people to ever set foot on the moon. Unfortunately, not everything went right. Four spacemen in very strange clothes apeared inside their craft. Unconscious. Two of them were badly burned, at it was all they could do to help them. The hopes of the whole world were begining to collapse.
As the queerly dressed people woke up, the crew of Apollo 11 was terrified. They had no idea who these people were, though they had name tags. The person that appeared to be the captain said, "Where--"
"You are aboard the Apollo 11, we were scheduled to land on the moon later today, but we may have to change plans, because you people came!"
"But--"
"I don't know where you're from, I Just know this is 1969."
"1969!"
"Duh"
"Are you sure this isn't 3264?"
"positive.
"...okay"
"Well, it's awfully crowded here, so we'll have to get out on the moon pretty soon. We have some extra space suits in the cargo hold, they're only for emergencys, but this appears to be an emergency."
"The Moon is in view!", said Buzz Aldrin. he had been quiet the whole time.
"Eject the parachutes! Ready the landing gear!
The crew landed on the moon with a thump. They landed on the dark side of the moon.
Epilogue
What happened next went by in a blur. An alien empire took them in. Neil Armstrong and his crew were able to return home succesfully, thanks to that alien technology. John Richards and his crew were also able to return home, with a great story to tell, thanks to a portal that the Gronks made just for them.
As they got home, they realized that Nathan was still clinging to some wreckage of their spaceship.
"What an adventure," Jimmy said.
The End
spelling/grammar -3
You wrote an adventurous story!
I really enjoyed
reading it. You have
great "voice" in your
writing. Super work!
97%
by Bug
"Houston, We have a problem." They were aboard the Explorer, a spacecraft on it's way to Pluto. This was the year 3264. The engines had cut a long time ago, and they were hurtling through space at speeds of 986,734,976 miles per hour. In just a few days, Captain John Richards, and his crew, Nathan Brown, Jimmy Johnson, and Mike Samson would reach their destination. The radio cut in.
"What is the problem? over."
"We are exelorating too fast. The speedometer is rapidly climbing, and we have no way to induce drag!"
"We can't do anything for you! We wouldn't be able to reach you!"
Pluto began to come into view, but they were going too fast. The hurtled past pluto, and out of the solar system. Suddenly, the radio cut. They were on their own.
The Explorer started to ignite from the sheer speed. The craft was burning up. Suddenly, the ship was sucked into a worm hole.
Part 2
The crew of the Explorer woke up in a spaceship. A different spaceship, but still a spaceship. This spaceship was Apollo 11, and the year was 1969. The captain of this spacecraft was Neil Armstrong. If everything went right, then his crew would be the first people to ever set foot on the moon. Unfortunately, not everything went right. Four spacemen in very strange clothes apeared inside their craft. Unconscious. Two of them were badly burned, at it was all they could do to help them. The hopes of the whole world were begining to collapse.
As the queerly dressed people woke up, the crew of Apollo 11 was terrified. They had no idea who these people were, though they had name tags. The person that appeared to be the captain said, "Where--"
"You are aboard the Apollo 11, we were scheduled to land on the moon later today, but we may have to change plans, because you people came!"
"But--"
"I don't know where you're from, I Just know this is 1969."
"1969!"
"Duh"
"Are you sure this isn't 3264?"
"positive.
"...okay"
"Well, it's awfully crowded here, so we'll have to get out on the moon pretty soon. We have some extra space suits in the cargo hold, they're only for emergencys, but this appears to be an emergency."
"The Moon is in view!", said Buzz Aldrin. he had been quiet the whole time.
"Eject the parachutes! Ready the landing gear!
The crew landed on the moon with a thump. They landed on the dark side of the moon.
Epilogue
What happened next went by in a blur. An alien empire took them in. Neil Armstrong and his crew were able to return home succesfully, thanks to that alien technology. John Richards and his crew were also able to return home, with a great story to tell, thanks to a portal that the Gronks made just for them.
As they got home, they realized that Nathan was still clinging to some wreckage of their spaceship.
"What an adventure," Jimmy said.
The End
spelling/grammar -3
You wrote an adventurous story!
I really enjoyed
reading it. You have
great "voice" in your
writing. Super work!
97%
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
under a rock
I shelter my children under a rock. But that rock is getting too small. They
barely fit under it. Sometimes life splashes on them. Sometimes life rains on
them.
It could be that the rock is the same size, but my children are bigger. But they're not that big!
I am happy to have been raised naive. I had plenty of time to learn about The Real World as I became an adult. I want the same sheltered life for my own kids.
I received a text from Pook today, just as school was getting out:
Maybe I over-reacted.
First of all, I saw 'lockdown' and 'gun' and totally missed that it was the high school, not his school. Second, I heard quite soon that it was a suspended student with a 'cache' of guns who had hidden them under the bleachers with intent to sell them. (He had two loaded guns on his person.) Third, by the time I heard about it, the kid was already in custody.
Over-reacted. Under-reacted. Reacted. I don't want that to be the issue. How I act when there is a gun near my child's school is not the point. The point is that I have to react at all.
At dinner I asked Pook how he felt about it. He barely understood why I'd ask. "It was just a lockdown. Nothing happened."
I grew up knowing fire drills and tornado drills. We did not have lockdown drills.
I hear about a school shooting and I turn away. I don't turn on news on those days. I don't want to know anything more than "It wasn't here." I know the issue, I have strong anti-gun feelings, and knowing the sordid details just upsets me.
We never watch TV news anyway, so that isn't a concern. But sometimes I listen to news on public radio while I cook. We almost always listen in the morning. There are times that either CD or I have shut off the radio when something dreadful has happened and we don't want to get into a discussion with the kids about it. I had no intention of telling them about the Newtown, CT incident until our church said that they would "help children process recent events" and I decided it was better that they not find out in a group setting.
His principal wrote, after a different gun event in Atlanta, "the real things that matter are you and your family. Are they safe? Are they happy? Are they healthy? If you can answer "yes" to those three questions, then all is right with your world, and all the other problems of life will work themselves out. Slow down. Count your blessings. Be thankful. Be in the moment and breathe. Make it a great day or not. The choice is always yours."
Yes, I get it. But I don't want to have to get it. I don't want to have to count my blessings when not every parent can easily do so. I want for it to just. not. happen.
Another blogger I follow said, ages ago, after yet another tragedy, "I wish I could send my kids to school wearing a button that says, 'No, I don't know. Please don't tell me.' Maybe it's pure wishful thinking that I can keep them naive even a few days longer. A single day. An hour."
Yes.
It could be that the rock is the same size, but my children are bigger. But they're not that big!
I am happy to have been raised naive. I had plenty of time to learn about The Real World as I became an adult. I want the same sheltered life for my own kids.
I received a text from Pook today, just as school was getting out:
Maybe I over-reacted.
First of all, I saw 'lockdown' and 'gun' and totally missed that it was the high school, not his school. Second, I heard quite soon that it was a suspended student with a 'cache' of guns who had hidden them under the bleachers with intent to sell them. (He had two loaded guns on his person.) Third, by the time I heard about it, the kid was already in custody.
Over-reacted. Under-reacted. Reacted. I don't want that to be the issue. How I act when there is a gun near my child's school is not the point. The point is that I have to react at all.
At dinner I asked Pook how he felt about it. He barely understood why I'd ask. "It was just a lockdown. Nothing happened."
I grew up knowing fire drills and tornado drills. We did not have lockdown drills.
I hear about a school shooting and I turn away. I don't turn on news on those days. I don't want to know anything more than "It wasn't here." I know the issue, I have strong anti-gun feelings, and knowing the sordid details just upsets me.
We never watch TV news anyway, so that isn't a concern. But sometimes I listen to news on public radio while I cook. We almost always listen in the morning. There are times that either CD or I have shut off the radio when something dreadful has happened and we don't want to get into a discussion with the kids about it. I had no intention of telling them about the Newtown, CT incident until our church said that they would "help children process recent events" and I decided it was better that they not find out in a group setting.
His principal wrote, after a different gun event in Atlanta, "the real things that matter are you and your family. Are they safe? Are they happy? Are they healthy? If you can answer "yes" to those three questions, then all is right with your world, and all the other problems of life will work themselves out. Slow down. Count your blessings. Be thankful. Be in the moment and breathe. Make it a great day or not. The choice is always yours."
Yes, I get it. But I don't want to have to get it. I don't want to have to count my blessings when not every parent can easily do so. I want for it to just. not. happen.
Another blogger I follow said, ages ago, after yet another tragedy, "I wish I could send my kids to school wearing a button that says, 'No, I don't know. Please don't tell me.' Maybe it's pure wishful thinking that I can keep them naive even a few days longer. A single day. An hour."
Yes.
Monday, January 6, 2014
brotherly love
Is this a sign of brotherly love or what? Older brother to younger brother:
"That's just my spit. Here, I'll wipe it off for you."
Bug's school starts all the fourth graders on instruments (band or orchestra) in the second semester. They put in three top choices and are assigned an instrument based on the rest of the kids' preferences and the musical balance of the group.
Bug requested trumpet, trombone and clarinet, in that order. I had strongly encouraged him to take saxophone off his list. The child is too competitive with Pook already and having something else in common seemed like a big mistake. The band instructor had already told Bug that, due to his height, he would be a great trombonist. This clearly influenced him, but not enough to put the instrument on his list as number one. But now he's assigned the trombone and he's very happy and all is well.
We sent out a couple of emails to friends and quickly were offered the use of three trombones. CD and Bug went to pick one up and then dropped it off at the music store for some TLC. It was collected Saturday. Bug has picked it up each day since and tried to make some music.
The dying duck has not left the house, but he's sounding healthier. Enough healthier that Pook is interested. And, I must say I'm thankful that Pook couldn't make much sound from the trombone and allowed Bug to instruct him. Even with the educated guidance of the two-day-experienced player, Pook couldn't do much with it. Bug glowed.
Then Pook surprised me by pulling out his saxophone and suggesting that Bug give it a try. First he demonstrated how to suck on the reed. Then he wiped off his spit and gave it to Bug to use. (I tell you, brotherly love!) He leaned over and around Bug to help him put his fingers just so, and demonstrated the mouth position a few times before, finally, a saxophonish noise came from the instrument.
Both boys acknowledged the difficulty of the other instrument performance and traded back to get their own. A few saxophone enhanced duck calls later, both instruments were packed up for school tomorrow.
"That's just my spit. Here, I'll wipe it off for you."
Bug's school starts all the fourth graders on instruments (band or orchestra) in the second semester. They put in three top choices and are assigned an instrument based on the rest of the kids' preferences and the musical balance of the group.
Bug requested trumpet, trombone and clarinet, in that order. I had strongly encouraged him to take saxophone off his list. The child is too competitive with Pook already and having something else in common seemed like a big mistake. The band instructor had already told Bug that, due to his height, he would be a great trombonist. This clearly influenced him, but not enough to put the instrument on his list as number one. But now he's assigned the trombone and he's very happy and all is well.
We sent out a couple of emails to friends and quickly were offered the use of three trombones. CD and Bug went to pick one up and then dropped it off at the music store for some TLC. It was collected Saturday. Bug has picked it up each day since and tried to make some music.
The dying duck has not left the house, but he's sounding healthier. Enough healthier that Pook is interested. And, I must say I'm thankful that Pook couldn't make much sound from the trombone and allowed Bug to instruct him. Even with the educated guidance of the two-day-experienced player, Pook couldn't do much with it. Bug glowed.
Then Pook surprised me by pulling out his saxophone and suggesting that Bug give it a try. First he demonstrated how to suck on the reed. Then he wiped off his spit and gave it to Bug to use. (I tell you, brotherly love!) He leaned over and around Bug to help him put his fingers just so, and demonstrated the mouth position a few times before, finally, a saxophonish noise came from the instrument.
Both boys acknowledged the difficulty of the other instrument performance and traded back to get their own. A few saxophone enhanced duck calls later, both instruments were packed up for school tomorrow.
Saturday, September 7, 2013
me gustaría un poco de vino por favor
No, I don't really need any wine right now, thanks. It's only 9:45 am at the moment. This is my pride sentence however. The first I've learned in my new Plan to Learn Spanish in Ten Minutes a Day.
Pook qualified to enroll in a seventh grade Spanish class this year. Bug's new Magnet school teaches everyone German. I decided I'd learn along with them.* Every night at dinner I ask the boys what they've learned but we just aren't getting anywhere. They seem to learn either "I dunno" or "how to count" and that's about it. They are not proving to be qualified teachers for me.
CD found out about this program via this article. Memrise assumes that you can spend as much time learning a language as you do checking into FB. Sure! I can do this! I'm encouraging him to learn German to please Bug; he already learned some Spanish when he was in school. Neither kid is learning French, which I studied.
The program hooked me pretty quickly. My first sentence, read, written, spoken and understood, could bring me a glass of wine! If it weren't 9:45.
----------------
*I said this about baseball too. When they were tots I thought I could learn how to throw and catch and play ball along side them. Let's just say, it didn't work.
I kind of also said this about piano. I knew a bit and thought I'd get better as they got better. That hasn't happened either.
Me gustaría un poco de vino por favor!
Pook qualified to enroll in a seventh grade Spanish class this year. Bug's new Magnet school teaches everyone German. I decided I'd learn along with them.* Every night at dinner I ask the boys what they've learned but we just aren't getting anywhere. They seem to learn either "I dunno" or "how to count" and that's about it. They are not proving to be qualified teachers for me.
CD found out about this program via this article. Memrise assumes that you can spend as much time learning a language as you do checking into FB. Sure! I can do this! I'm encouraging him to learn German to please Bug; he already learned some Spanish when he was in school. Neither kid is learning French, which I studied.
The program hooked me pretty quickly. My first sentence, read, written, spoken and understood, could bring me a glass of wine! If it weren't 9:45.
----------------
*I said this about baseball too. When they were tots I thought I could learn how to throw and catch and play ball along side them. Let's just say, it didn't work.
I kind of also said this about piano. I knew a bit and thought I'd get better as they got better. That hasn't happened either.
Me gustaría un poco de vino por favor!
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
magnet student
Bug is attending a "Magnet School for High Achievers" this year. He wrote this story after his first day.
Magnet School
On my first day of school at KMS I got to my classroom. Then, we went to the Transmogrifier Room. we waited and waited and finally , an elegantly built machine came into view. It was sleek and shiny, painted red, and had buttons and dials all over it. as we neared the front of the line I noticed that it had a hatch with a window. Through the window I saw a student, then there was a flash of light and I couldn’t see him anymore. It must have been the transmogrifier! What were they turning us into? Soon, the hatch was opened and I stepped in. I then saw another hatch on the other side of the machine. That’s where the others must have gone! suddenly there was a flash of light. I looked down at my new body. I still had arms and legs, but I had turned into-what else, a horseshoe magnet!
He still has the goal of being a "best selling author" for his career. I think the plan is to pair that with also being an elementary school librarian. The "media center specialist" (librarian) at his former school had a huge influence on him. He has tried to email her this story but we're not sure if she'll check her school email address now that she has retired.
I hope the librarian (media center specialist) at his new school appreciates my little magnet.
Magnet School
On my first day of school at KMS I got to my classroom. Then, we went to the Transmogrifier Room. we waited and waited and finally , an elegantly built machine came into view. It was sleek and shiny, painted red, and had buttons and dials all over it. as we neared the front of the line I noticed that it had a hatch with a window. Through the window I saw a student, then there was a flash of light and I couldn’t see him anymore. It must have been the transmogrifier! What were they turning us into? Soon, the hatch was opened and I stepped in. I then saw another hatch on the other side of the machine. That’s where the others must have gone! suddenly there was a flash of light. I looked down at my new body. I still had arms and legs, but I had turned into-what else, a horseshoe magnet!
He still has the goal of being a "best selling author" for his career. I think the plan is to pair that with also being an elementary school librarian. The "media center specialist" (librarian) at his former school had a huge influence on him. He has tried to email her this story but we're not sure if she'll check her school email address now that she has retired.
I hope the librarian (media center specialist) at his new school appreciates my little magnet.
Monday, August 12, 2013
back to school quiet
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
bittersweet
Bug came home on May 1 with a calendar of end-of-year activities. I
immediately saw an error where they'd put the last day of school on May
23 instead of May 29. Bug insisted it was right and somewhere in me
there was a ningling feeling that I'd been hearing "three more weeks"
not "one more month" as my calendar indicated. I did some investigation
and sure enough, the county CHANGED the last day of school at some
point this year. How dare they!? I lost a week!
Now, two more days of school. For Pook, this means two days of exams. For Bug this means Field Day, cleaning out his desk and playing outdoors a lot (movies in the classroom if it rains). For me, it means cramming in some last To Do's. For both Bug and myself it means saying Goodbye to his school.
Bug won the lottery (literally) for a placement in our county's Magnet School for High Achievers. Six kids from our school got in this year, which may be a record number. Once you're in this program, you're in it until you graduate. They house it in a different elementary building for grades 4-6, but the older kids are conveniently housed in the same schools the boys would attend anyway.
I apply each year for Pook to get in, and I will continue to do so until it no longer matters. But I think it matters more for Bug. I've always told people that Pook could learn even if he was under a rock. Sure, teachers are nice to have, but he'd learn anyway. For Bug, I think we need teachers, and I think we need good teachers. I think he just needs the relationship between himself and an adult to inspire him. With a few exceptions, this has not been a year of inspiration for him.
I was so excited that his name had been drawn that I focused on him and how he'd feel about it. He was initially concerned, but the idea has grown on him. What I didn't think about immediately was that I too would be leaving the school. And I've been there more years than he!
For seven years I've been in that building weekly, helping and visiting and getting to know everyone in every corner. I've participated in lots of projects and done my part for the PTA as one of those stay-at-home-moms who can. Most of my time was spent in the library, where I mindlessly shelved books, stuck tags on book spines, helped add and delete books, rounded up overdues and organized the shelves. It was a relaxing place and I was always needed. There's something meditative about alphabetizing books that rested my brain.
I went up to the school today with gifts for a few teachers. I'd told the media specialist that I'd come in one more time to help her. She's retiring this year, but trying to get the place in perfect order for her replacement. She's been special to Bug for the past few years too, so I wanted to be sure I got in a nice Goodbye. He's having an easier time leaving, knowing that she's leaving too. I think she feels the same way about him. There weren't tears, but it was sad saying goodbye to so many wonderful people. We'll miss it there.
Now, two more days of school. For Pook, this means two days of exams. For Bug this means Field Day, cleaning out his desk and playing outdoors a lot (movies in the classroom if it rains). For me, it means cramming in some last To Do's. For both Bug and myself it means saying Goodbye to his school.
Bug won the lottery (literally) for a placement in our county's Magnet School for High Achievers. Six kids from our school got in this year, which may be a record number. Once you're in this program, you're in it until you graduate. They house it in a different elementary building for grades 4-6, but the older kids are conveniently housed in the same schools the boys would attend anyway.
I apply each year for Pook to get in, and I will continue to do so until it no longer matters. But I think it matters more for Bug. I've always told people that Pook could learn even if he was under a rock. Sure, teachers are nice to have, but he'd learn anyway. For Bug, I think we need teachers, and I think we need good teachers. I think he just needs the relationship between himself and an adult to inspire him. With a few exceptions, this has not been a year of inspiration for him.
I was so excited that his name had been drawn that I focused on him and how he'd feel about it. He was initially concerned, but the idea has grown on him. What I didn't think about immediately was that I too would be leaving the school. And I've been there more years than he!
For seven years I've been in that building weekly, helping and visiting and getting to know everyone in every corner. I've participated in lots of projects and done my part for the PTA as one of those stay-at-home-moms who can. Most of my time was spent in the library, where I mindlessly shelved books, stuck tags on book spines, helped add and delete books, rounded up overdues and organized the shelves. It was a relaxing place and I was always needed. There's something meditative about alphabetizing books that rested my brain.
I went up to the school today with gifts for a few teachers. I'd told the media specialist that I'd come in one more time to help her. She's retiring this year, but trying to get the place in perfect order for her replacement. She's been special to Bug for the past few years too, so I wanted to be sure I got in a nice Goodbye. He's having an easier time leaving, knowing that she's leaving too. I think she feels the same way about him. There weren't tears, but it was sad saying goodbye to so many wonderful people. We'll miss it there.
Monday, November 12, 2012
(iv)(ix)=xxxvi
Poor Bug is quite sure that Everyone Else in the third grade knows their times tables but him. And, to be honest, they've changed the curriculum this year and now the second graders are learning multiplication and third graders will be expected to know them. He's in an advanced math class and his teacher really would like for the kids to know them Soon.
To help our intense child deal with this frustration, our house has turned into the House of Math. We're quizzing him constantly, including a bombardment from all three of us over dinner.
He WILL learn these. I'm covering all bases here. He wrote the flashcards himself (active), different numbers in different colors (visual), and is instructed to say them aloud (oral).
Plus, they are now posted all around our kitchen. The 4's are in the half bathroom off the kitchen. Perhaps he will remember 4x8...bathroom mirror...purple...32!
The 3's are in orange, by his seat at the breakfast table.
Turquoise 6's are by Pook's seat and window.
The 7's are supplied in blue on his way into the garage. 8's are outside the bathroom, 9's and 12's are on the doorway to the den.
Just to stay as geeky as possible, at dinner last night we quizzed both boys on the same multiplication problems, but in Roman numerals.
To help our intense child deal with this frustration, our house has turned into the House of Math. We're quizzing him constantly, including a bombardment from all three of us over dinner.
Plus, they are now posted all around our kitchen. The 4's are in the half bathroom off the kitchen. Perhaps he will remember 4x8...bathroom mirror...purple...32!
Just to stay as geeky as possible, at dinner last night we quizzed both boys on the same multiplication problems, but in Roman numerals.
Monday, August 27, 2012
ain't nobody happy
"When Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy." So they say. But when nobody ain't happy, Mama ain't happy either. And it seems like my babies are not happy.
School is too long. The bus takes forever. He has no time to play or read. Pook is adjusting to middle school, but grudgingly. He's right; his schedule is much changed from the past years. He isn't getting off the bus until 4:45 (instead of 2:30) and he needs to fit in homework plus saxophone and piano practices. He's used to his homework being done before dinner, but it isn't working that way. He liked getting some free time. It may settle out, or he may just get used to it.
Bug's dissatisfaction is more global. "Everything" is wrong. "Everyone" hates his teacher. It is true that his friends are mostly in other rooms. He has the only teacher in the grade that I didn't want him to get. She taught Pook in 3rd grade too, and I wasn't thrilled with her "old school" style. I think she's probably starting the year very strict (no smiling until Christmas) but I also think she'll mellow out soon. Bug doesn't seem to know what she wants. He thinks this is the directions on the homework but he also thinks he needs to do things like this or he'll "get in trouble." He's intimidated by her and isn't asking for clarification.
Yesterday at the triathlon, the kids were treated as capable, independent beings. No adults were allowed in the transition area before, during or after. The kids set up their bike, towel, socks shoes and shirt, and a box for goggles and bike helmet. I never even saw how they laid it all out. The kids were lined up by age and number and marched to the aquatics center where we waited to watch. Pook had two hours to wait while Bug ("juniors division") raced. CD and I saw them both swim then we ran outdoors to catch snippets of biking and running. We saw them pass through the finish line. The miles they covered they covered without us.
I liked the independence required of them. When Bug wanted to find the bathrooms and I wanted to see Pook finish, I sent him to the opposite side of the place on his own. If he can race a triathlon, he can find a port-a-potty on his own. And, they handled it-- mostly. I did step in when Pook came out from the pool without having found the volunteer holding his glasses. He had to bike (6 miles) without them, but I found the woman who had them and was able to return them to him before the run. Sometimes Mama still needs to help.
But with Bug at school, I don't want to step in yet. I want him to figure out how he can work with his teacher. I want him to learn how to ask for help, both from her and from us. I want him to learn to explain his worries more clearly. I want him to feel independent and successful. Then Mama will be happy.
School is too long. The bus takes forever. He has no time to play or read. Pook is adjusting to middle school, but grudgingly. He's right; his schedule is much changed from the past years. He isn't getting off the bus until 4:45 (instead of 2:30) and he needs to fit in homework plus saxophone and piano practices. He's used to his homework being done before dinner, but it isn't working that way. He liked getting some free time. It may settle out, or he may just get used to it.
Bug's dissatisfaction is more global. "Everything" is wrong. "Everyone" hates his teacher. It is true that his friends are mostly in other rooms. He has the only teacher in the grade that I didn't want him to get. She taught Pook in 3rd grade too, and I wasn't thrilled with her "old school" style. I think she's probably starting the year very strict (no smiling until Christmas) but I also think she'll mellow out soon. Bug doesn't seem to know what she wants. He thinks this is the directions on the homework but he also thinks he needs to do things like this or he'll "get in trouble." He's intimidated by her and isn't asking for clarification.
Yesterday at the triathlon, the kids were treated as capable, independent beings. No adults were allowed in the transition area before, during or after. The kids set up their bike, towel, socks shoes and shirt, and a box for goggles and bike helmet. I never even saw how they laid it all out. The kids were lined up by age and number and marched to the aquatics center where we waited to watch. Pook had two hours to wait while Bug ("juniors division") raced. CD and I saw them both swim then we ran outdoors to catch snippets of biking and running. We saw them pass through the finish line. The miles they covered they covered without us.
I liked the independence required of them. When Bug wanted to find the bathrooms and I wanted to see Pook finish, I sent him to the opposite side of the place on his own. If he can race a triathlon, he can find a port-a-potty on his own. And, they handled it-- mostly. I did step in when Pook came out from the pool without having found the volunteer holding his glasses. He had to bike (6 miles) without them, but I found the woman who had them and was able to return them to him before the run. Sometimes Mama still needs to help.
But with Bug at school, I don't want to step in yet. I want him to figure out how he can work with his teacher. I want him to learn how to ask for help, both from her and from us. I want him to learn to explain his worries more clearly. I want him to feel independent and successful. Then Mama will be happy.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
third grade
Welcome to the Third Grade! As moms of Third Graders, we must have a united front. We must be prepared for school this year.
Here is your supply list. Please have these items last week or expect consequences.
Here are a few of the first projects you will need to do. Extra credit will be given if there are no tears. From either of you.
There will be pop quizzes and meltdowns at random moments. There will be more poster board needed at unexpected hours of the day. You must always be prepared for these. Each time you use phrases such as "Are you serious?" and "I told you so" you will be penalized.
Again, welcome to the Third Grade!
Here is your supply list. Please have these items last week or expect consequences.
- patience
- poster board
- distractions
- a 25th hour to the day
- wine
- patience
Here are a few of the first projects you will need to do. Extra credit will be given if there are no tears. From either of you.
- It is Friday afternoon, an hour after school has let out. Your third grader just announced that he left his paperwork for "the big project" at school. You have no way to get the papers. Solve this problem while making dinner preparations and answering urgent email.
- Your third grader needs to make a collage of pictures "all about me." You recycled all the old magazines this morning. Your printer is on the blink. Again. Solve this problem in color.
- It is bedtime on Sunday night. Your third grader opened his door so you would hear him sobbing. He apparently just remembered "the big project." Get him to sleep before you fall asleep. Every minute counts against your grade.
There will be pop quizzes and meltdowns at random moments. There will be more poster board needed at unexpected hours of the day. You must always be prepared for these. Each time you use phrases such as "Are you serious?" and "I told you so" you will be penalized.
Again, welcome to the Third Grade!
Monday, June 4, 2012
cheese, wishes, messes and fairies-- oh my!
I'm finally getting around to reading some of the journals, etc. that came home at the end of the school year.
Bug always has some stories worth a chuckle.
Pook has doodles in his notebooks which crack me up. He has another which involves a boxing glove triggered by an closed circuit. At least they were in the science notebook! (I have approximated his drawing, not copied it.)
Bug always has some stories worth a chuckle.
George and the magic MozzerellaAlso by Bug:
1. George finds some mozzerella in his house
2. George wishes he had a Pet dinosaur. Suddenly he is riding a triceritops.
3. Hes still holding the cheese
4. It charges his mom and dad, he said Woah! Stop! It does
5. He wishes he had a Pet griffin, cyclops, and centar he gets them
6. he goes to bed with the cheese on his bed-side table
7. Years pass and George takes good care of the cheese
If I had three wishes one would be that I could fly. I would be able to get places in a hurry. My second wish would be that I could turn invisible. It would be useful to be able to sneak around. My last wish would be to have the ability to walk into a book and trade Places with a character. That would be really fun.I was entertained by Pook in this one. He knows himself well.
Messyish MeWhen Mrs. Lavender walks into my bedroom she thinks that "this room is fairly cleanish." She thinks that it is cleanish because there is not things all over the floor. The beds are sort of made. I share the room with my little brother. It is clean because the toys are in the Toy Room. The closet is not very neat though. I am not as neat as that room is.
Pook has doodles in his notebooks which crack me up. He has another which involves a boxing glove triggered by an closed circuit. At least they were in the science notebook! (I have approximated his drawing, not copied it.)
Friday, May 18, 2012
log ride
I have found my desk. And emptied my email inbox. And the kids won't be home from school for an hour still. (I just want to pause now while you gasp with amazement. Thank you.) (And don't look in the laundry room. That doesn't count because it wasn't on my desk.)
I've started picturing April as the long climb up a roller coaster. Every time you blink someone adds something to your May calendar. You see it filling fuller and fuller and see the multiple conflicts which you don't have time to adjust. And then comes May. You might as well enjoy the ride because there is no stopping it. Until June. And June feels like the water at the bottom of the log ride, stopping the action quickly. If you can make it to June you're home safely. If.
Piano recitals went beautifully. In-laws had a good visit. Baseball is over for both kids. We didn't win anything at the baseball family festival. Pook turned eleven and the sleep-over boys slept a bit. Pook has turned in three of four end-of-year projects and if he doesn't volunteer to present the fourth today I will have his head. Mother's Day got some notice.
My own mother's birthday celebration will happen Saturday. Sunday afternoon we have an end-of-baseball swim party. Monday is field day for the second grade. (I'm helping.) Tuesday is my last day of work for the year and field day for the fifth grade. Wednesday is the second grade end-of-year party. (I'm helping.) Thursday is awards day for the fifth grade and their party. (I'm helping.) But Thursday is also the last day of school. So Friday? Friday we're sleeping.
I've started picturing April as the long climb up a roller coaster. Every time you blink someone adds something to your May calendar. You see it filling fuller and fuller and see the multiple conflicts which you don't have time to adjust. And then comes May. You might as well enjoy the ride because there is no stopping it. Until June. And June feels like the water at the bottom of the log ride, stopping the action quickly. If you can make it to June you're home safely. If.
Piano recitals went beautifully. In-laws had a good visit. Baseball is over for both kids. We didn't win anything at the baseball family festival. Pook turned eleven and the sleep-over boys slept a bit. Pook has turned in three of four end-of-year projects and if he doesn't volunteer to present the fourth today I will have his head. Mother's Day got some notice.
My own mother's birthday celebration will happen Saturday. Sunday afternoon we have an end-of-baseball swim party. Monday is field day for the second grade. (I'm helping.) Tuesday is my last day of work for the year and field day for the fifth grade. Wednesday is the second grade end-of-year party. (I'm helping.) Thursday is awards day for the fifth grade and their party. (I'm helping.) But Thursday is also the last day of school. So Friday? Friday we're sleeping.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
the gene pool
I'm just gonna come right out and say it: I think my kids are smarter than me.
I have acknowledged that they both know more about music than I do. I tried, I really did. I took Piano 011 (note that I did not qualify for 101, but 011) in college and continued with private lessons before Pook was born. I can play some things- if I know what they're supposed to sound like. But, I just can't read music. I can't make that leap from notes to sounds in my head. I'd like to be able to see a new hymn and know what it will sound like. I can't.
My kids have their daddy's musical brain. And, while I'm a bit sad that I haven't been able to keep up with them at piano, I'm generally ok with it. I didn't manage to keep up with them in baseball either. This is ok.
But Pook just received a major award (no, not a lamp in the shape of a woman's leg) at school for his academic achievement. A few kids were chosen from each school in the county, and his school included him.
I was more surprised than I should have been. I know Pook gets good grades. I know he's done well on standardized tests. He attends a public school, but there is no lack of bright kids at our neighborhood school. I guess I just didn't know he was at the top.
I shouldn't leave out Bug. His first standardized tests amazed me too. He whizzes through homework, assuming he'll know it all- which he does- and so I stay on the sidelines.
I'm not saying I'm not smart. I learn new tasks quickly. I don't remember facts like CD, Pook and maybe even Bug (the call is still out on him), instead I process information well. I tie together all the loose ends and try to make sense of facts and how they relate. Holistic. Maybe "Wholistic" even. As an adult, this serves me just fine, as long as I avoid trivia games.
The thing is, I think both boys have this skill too. Right now this is more noticeable in Pook's brain than in Bug's, just because of age. But they both seem to have such well-balanced brains, left and right. They love to draw, and can make representations of things they've hardly examined. Bug is our Great Explainer, able to (and always wanting to) explain how he does the things he does.
And they "get" music. And they're fact wizards.
So I've been asking myself, "where did I get such smart children?" and the answer I have accepted is that I fell in love with CD's brain and together we produced some amazing kids, possibly better than their two halves.
I have acknowledged that they both know more about music than I do. I tried, I really did. I took Piano 011 (note that I did not qualify for 101, but 011) in college and continued with private lessons before Pook was born. I can play some things- if I know what they're supposed to sound like. But, I just can't read music. I can't make that leap from notes to sounds in my head. I'd like to be able to see a new hymn and know what it will sound like. I can't.
My kids have their daddy's musical brain. And, while I'm a bit sad that I haven't been able to keep up with them at piano, I'm generally ok with it. I didn't manage to keep up with them in baseball either. This is ok.
But Pook just received a major award (no, not a lamp in the shape of a woman's leg) at school for his academic achievement. A few kids were chosen from each school in the county, and his school included him.
I was more surprised than I should have been. I know Pook gets good grades. I know he's done well on standardized tests. He attends a public school, but there is no lack of bright kids at our neighborhood school. I guess I just didn't know he was at the top.
I shouldn't leave out Bug. His first standardized tests amazed me too. He whizzes through homework, assuming he'll know it all- which he does- and so I stay on the sidelines.
I'm not saying I'm not smart. I learn new tasks quickly. I don't remember facts like CD, Pook and maybe even Bug (the call is still out on him), instead I process information well. I tie together all the loose ends and try to make sense of facts and how they relate. Holistic. Maybe "Wholistic" even. As an adult, this serves me just fine, as long as I avoid trivia games.
The thing is, I think both boys have this skill too. Right now this is more noticeable in Pook's brain than in Bug's, just because of age. But they both seem to have such well-balanced brains, left and right. They love to draw, and can make representations of things they've hardly examined. Bug is our Great Explainer, able to (and always wanting to) explain how he does the things he does.
And they "get" music. And they're fact wizards.
So I've been asking myself, "where did I get such smart children?" and the answer I have accepted is that I fell in love with CD's brain and together we produced some amazing kids, possibly better than their two halves.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
rolling off the tongue
You never know what will come from a family dinner time conversation. That's one of the reasons I enjoy them so much. Last night Bug shared his favorite words with us, then made a list of the favorite words for each of us.
Bug's list:
mystery
pathetic
enthusiastic
gorgonzola
My favorites:
papillion (French for butterfly)
Guatemala
CD's faves
polysyllabic
strengths
humuhumunukunukuapuaa (Hawaiian word for the Trigger fish)
Pook's favorites:
supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
zyzzyva
samurai
I thought our lists were interesting. Bug's words were new-ish words from vocabulary lists in school, and I could see what they had in common to attract him. Good words too; I like the sound of them. He's been obsessing about cheese recently (don't ask; I can't explain) therefore "gorgonzola." I pick words based on their sound too. "Papillion" has been a favorite since middle school French class. I was told I needed a second word and "Guatemala" was the first to roll off my tongue. I've never thought of it as a favorite before last night, but perhaps I'll keep it around.
Pook and CD had different, or at least additional reasons for their favorites. "Zyzzyva" is the last word in the dictionary (that Pook has investigated). It means "any of various tropical American weevils of the genus zyzzyva, often destructive to plants," just in case you care. "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" clearly was chosen for length. "Samurai" he chose for the way it sounds.
CD liked "polysyllabic" because it describes itself, "strengths" for the greatest number of consonants making for the longest one syllable word, and "humuhumunukunukuapuaa" because, well, why not?
So, share your favorite words in the comment section. If you have a reason for liking them, share that too.
Bug's list:
mystery
pathetic
enthusiastic
gorgonzola
My favorites:
papillion (French for butterfly)
Guatemala
CD's faves
polysyllabic
strengths
humuhumunukunukuapuaa (Hawaiian word for the Trigger fish)
Pook's favorites:
supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
zyzzyva
samurai
I thought our lists were interesting. Bug's words were new-ish words from vocabulary lists in school, and I could see what they had in common to attract him. Good words too; I like the sound of them. He's been obsessing about cheese recently (don't ask; I can't explain) therefore "gorgonzola." I pick words based on their sound too. "Papillion" has been a favorite since middle school French class. I was told I needed a second word and "Guatemala" was the first to roll off my tongue. I've never thought of it as a favorite before last night, but perhaps I'll keep it around.
Pook and CD had different, or at least additional reasons for their favorites. "Zyzzyva" is the last word in the dictionary (that Pook has investigated). It means "any of various tropical American weevils of the genus zyzzyva, often destructive to plants," just in case you care. "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" clearly was chosen for length. "Samurai" he chose for the way it sounds.
CD liked "polysyllabic" because it describes itself, "strengths" for the greatest number of consonants making for the longest one syllable word, and "humuhumunukunukuapuaa" because, well, why not?
So, share your favorite words in the comment section. If you have a reason for liking them, share that too.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
wish me luck
I'm afraid that if I post this I will jeopardize this opportunity. I was born on a Friday the Thirteenth and really am not superstitious, (though I wouldn't walk under a ladder anyway), but I am worried about jinxing myself. Logical, no, but that doesn't stop me often.
I have been asked for a second interview for a job I think I'd really like. It seems like a perfect fit and I think they like me as much as I like them. I'm not normally such a pessimist, but I keep thinking that if I get too psyched about this, something will go wrong.
I've dabbled in going back to work for about a year. I haven't done much, but I've put my name out there a couple of times and spent time writing proposals and resumes etc.
I used to teach Preschool Special Education in the public school system. I had a self contained class of preschool kids (3-5 years, usually chose four year olds if got a choice) with disabilities of all variety. I had kids with vision impairments, walkers for physical issues, barely verbal kids with cognitive or language problems... a little of it all. As the years (ten of them) went on, I got a reputation for working with those with autism. I spent one awful year with four children no one else would/could take. They were all probably autistic (if not diagnosed as such), mostly non-verbal and mostly violent when frustrated. Which was often. I'll always be able to date my last tetanus shot to that year. I got bit on the butt, (I sort of deserved it, if anyone ever deserves that) and it actually broke the skin through my pants.
Ahh, fun stuff. But, it seems to be in my blood. I am a magnet for special needs kids. If I don't find them, they find me. And I do find them. On playgrounds, in the library, at the grocery.... Other teachers acknowledge the same thing, but can't identify why it happens. Maybe we make eye contact with them differently. Not sure.
Anyway, I had always had a fantasy of taking a part-time job at my kids' school, teaching in the same field. Except for the fact that they don't have a preschool class there. And that the county doesn't hire anyone part time anymore (not wanting their benefits isn't enough to convince them that part-timers could save them money). And that lots of teachers try to get into this school and can't.
Well, that and that I let my teaching certificate lapse. I quit teaching when Pook was born. I'd just renewed my teaching certificate for five years, hated everyone and everything at my school, but remained smart enough to not burn any bridges as I waved goodbye. But five years later I had two small kids and I knew that the field of autism was changing dramatically, so I chose to let my certificate lapse. I could have hired a babysitter to watch the kids while I learned how to make a coat-hanger mobile at a school supply store, and then had to do it all again now anyway, five more years later but I couldn't get into any good classes in the actual field without being an official college student again. So, I figured I could work at a private school that either didn't care about my certificate or would pay me to go back to school to earn it.
Some snooping around this year led me to believe there wasn't anything much out there. With the help of a friend, I put together a proposal for a different fantasy job. I would be the full special ed. department at a church preschool. I'd help kids and teachers in different rooms and coordinate with parents and specialists.
The idea is sound, but the economy is not. I quickly learned that even the best meaning school can't be persuaded to hire someone for a job they didn't think they needed, taking in kids they didn't think they wanted, to pay with money they don't have. So, I sat on the idea and figured that if I talked about it to lots of people, someday something would come of it.
This position was on Craig's List, which I found last fall while looking for an appropriate price for a jogging stroller. It said very little about the job, so I did some searching and found that it was a place I knew much about-- all good. I applied. Then heard nothing.
I was flattered when they called last week and said that they'd been holding on to my resume, hoping another availability would come up. I interviewed on Tuesday and now am heading back on Monday. It is almost my fantasy job. Except the parts I don't like? Like the background legal parts and the administration portion... I wouldn't have to do. The job is M/W/F, about thirteen hours a week. Perfect fit.
I should know their decision soon; I think they want someone to start right away.
Wish me luck. Not that I believe in it. Well, only sort of.
I have been asked for a second interview for a job I think I'd really like. It seems like a perfect fit and I think they like me as much as I like them. I'm not normally such a pessimist, but I keep thinking that if I get too psyched about this, something will go wrong.
I've dabbled in going back to work for about a year. I haven't done much, but I've put my name out there a couple of times and spent time writing proposals and resumes etc.
I used to teach Preschool Special Education in the public school system. I had a self contained class of preschool kids (3-5 years, usually chose four year olds if got a choice) with disabilities of all variety. I had kids with vision impairments, walkers for physical issues, barely verbal kids with cognitive or language problems... a little of it all. As the years (ten of them) went on, I got a reputation for working with those with autism. I spent one awful year with four children no one else would/could take. They were all probably autistic (if not diagnosed as such), mostly non-verbal and mostly violent when frustrated. Which was often. I'll always be able to date my last tetanus shot to that year. I got bit on the butt, (I sort of deserved it, if anyone ever deserves that) and it actually broke the skin through my pants.
Ahh, fun stuff. But, it seems to be in my blood. I am a magnet for special needs kids. If I don't find them, they find me. And I do find them. On playgrounds, in the library, at the grocery.... Other teachers acknowledge the same thing, but can't identify why it happens. Maybe we make eye contact with them differently. Not sure.
Anyway, I had always had a fantasy of taking a part-time job at my kids' school, teaching in the same field. Except for the fact that they don't have a preschool class there. And that the county doesn't hire anyone part time anymore (not wanting their benefits isn't enough to convince them that part-timers could save them money). And that lots of teachers try to get into this school and can't.
Well, that and that I let my teaching certificate lapse. I quit teaching when Pook was born. I'd just renewed my teaching certificate for five years, hated everyone and everything at my school, but remained smart enough to not burn any bridges as I waved goodbye. But five years later I had two small kids and I knew that the field of autism was changing dramatically, so I chose to let my certificate lapse. I could have hired a babysitter to watch the kids while I learned how to make a coat-hanger mobile at a school supply store, and then had to do it all again now anyway, five more years later but I couldn't get into any good classes in the actual field without being an official college student again. So, I figured I could work at a private school that either didn't care about my certificate or would pay me to go back to school to earn it.
Some snooping around this year led me to believe there wasn't anything much out there. With the help of a friend, I put together a proposal for a different fantasy job. I would be the full special ed. department at a church preschool. I'd help kids and teachers in different rooms and coordinate with parents and specialists.
The idea is sound, but the economy is not. I quickly learned that even the best meaning school can't be persuaded to hire someone for a job they didn't think they needed, taking in kids they didn't think they wanted, to pay with money they don't have. So, I sat on the idea and figured that if I talked about it to lots of people, someday something would come of it.
This position was on Craig's List, which I found last fall while looking for an appropriate price for a jogging stroller. It said very little about the job, so I did some searching and found that it was a place I knew much about-- all good. I applied. Then heard nothing.
I was flattered when they called last week and said that they'd been holding on to my resume, hoping another availability would come up. I interviewed on Tuesday and now am heading back on Monday. It is almost my fantasy job. Except the parts I don't like? Like the background legal parts and the administration portion... I wouldn't have to do. The job is M/W/F, about thirteen hours a week. Perfect fit.
I should know their decision soon; I think they want someone to start right away.
Wish me luck. Not that I believe in it. Well, only sort of.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
all in my head
I dreamed of lice last night. Nice, I know. In the dream someone was about to sit on my (non-existent) white ottoman but I cautioned them that it had lice on it. I'd been told they looked like sesame seeds but in my dream they were little black pepper spots that moved. Maybe I was thinking of fleas. I was using something like a magnet to remove them. The woman chose to sit there anyway. I think I knew her in real life but now all I can remember are the bugs.
Every time I turn around the kids' school is sending me another notice that 'lice have been found in your child's classroom'. I recognize the note so I can now throw it away quickly and try to avoid thinking about it. Seems to not be working. I ran my hand through Pook's thick, soft, wavy red hair last night. "I should probably check your hair for lice." "They did that already, at school." They checked everyone. Every last head. Which is good, right? Because now I don't need to check them and my house is, for now, safe. Unless I have them. I itch every time I think about the school- and that is often since I'm there or working on projects for it so often.
Then the news has to slam me with articles about bed bugs. I may never travel again. The pest control guy was here yesterday and said they might have to bring back DDT since nothing else killed bed bugs. (You can see a map of where they're being found (everywhere) here. I have no intention of doing so, but you might want to see it.) The pest control guy (from an environmentally safe pest control company) was here to deal with some cockroaches. We'd seen a couple, but not enough to make me call for a spraying update. Then one night CD and I were brushing our teeth, side by side, and I glanced into the mirror to see a gigantic cockroach above me. I considered hiding in the bathtub, but decided to brave it and dash under it and out the doorway, toothbrush in hand. There was no way it was going to get near my toothbrush. Glagck! (I just made up that lovely sound.) The next morning I got to clean up the walls where CD had smashed it- in multiple locations. There were three smears, two on the walls and one on the ceiling. I think he used one of my shoes.
Dang, now I've started itching. I heard that heat could kill lice. I started letting my hair dryer come close to burning my head, just in case. I started scrubbing extra hard in the shower. It could be that the extra scrubbing and the heat are what are causing the itching. Or it could all be in my head. But please, not on it.
Every time I turn around the kids' school is sending me another notice that 'lice have been found in your child's classroom'. I recognize the note so I can now throw it away quickly and try to avoid thinking about it. Seems to not be working. I ran my hand through Pook's thick, soft, wavy red hair last night. "I should probably check your hair for lice." "They did that already, at school." They checked everyone. Every last head. Which is good, right? Because now I don't need to check them and my house is, for now, safe. Unless I have them. I itch every time I think about the school- and that is often since I'm there or working on projects for it so often.
Then the news has to slam me with articles about bed bugs. I may never travel again. The pest control guy was here yesterday and said they might have to bring back DDT since nothing else killed bed bugs. (You can see a map of where they're being found (everywhere) here. I have no intention of doing so, but you might want to see it.) The pest control guy (from an environmentally safe pest control company) was here to deal with some cockroaches. We'd seen a couple, but not enough to make me call for a spraying update. Then one night CD and I were brushing our teeth, side by side, and I glanced into the mirror to see a gigantic cockroach above me. I considered hiding in the bathtub, but decided to brave it and dash under it and out the doorway, toothbrush in hand. There was no way it was going to get near my toothbrush. Glagck! (I just made up that lovely sound.) The next morning I got to clean up the walls where CD had smashed it- in multiple locations. There were three smears, two on the walls and one on the ceiling. I think he used one of my shoes.
Dang, now I've started itching. I heard that heat could kill lice. I started letting my hair dryer come close to burning my head, just in case. I started scrubbing extra hard in the shower. It could be that the extra scrubbing and the heat are what are causing the itching. Or it could all be in my head. But please, not on it.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
from another point of view they're clueless
Do you remember this?
"I think he likes me!" He bumped me when he was going to the pencil sharpener and he didn't even have to go that direction!" <beams for days>
*next week*
"I'm so depressed. Did you see him talk to her in the hallway? I think we're over." <cries for days>
Men may have no clue that this conversation takes place dozens of times for most girls. I'm currently trying to figure out if my nine year old Pook has any clue at all about the minds of girls. It appears that he does not.
He and I have been reading aloud book 5 of the Harry Potter series. This is the first book which has included any romance. I first realized his cluelessness when Hermione explained to Harry that the reason Ginny never talked to him last year was because she'd liked him. The other night Harry was given his first kiss, by the long admired Cho. Again, Hermione came to the translating rescue. Harry was clueless. Both times Pook was clueless.
I mentioned to him that it was a good idea for a boy to have some girls as buddies, like Harry has in Hermione, so that they can explain other girls to him. I pushed the matter a bit and asked him what girls he's friends with at school. He was speechless, not just avoiding the question. I tried to make it easier. "If your birthday party was tomorrow and you could invite five boys and five girls, who would you invite?" He stalled on narrowing the boys to five. All he could come up with was, "Would I have to invite girls?"
I'm going to assume that the girls at his school are already ogling over boys. It starts young. I'm also assuming that he isn't entirely ignored in this. I'm further assuming that he has no idea. Which means he will break hearts he never noticed. And as his mom, it is my responsibility to help him become the type of man that will make someone a good partner someday. Learning to talk to girls is an important skill. (I think this skill is important whether my child is gay or straight, by the way.) Some men understand us, but all boys should be taught to try.
Obviously, I have the perspective of his mom, but I'd say he's exactly the kind of guy that women will love. In thirty years. He's a cute, tall, brainy bookworm. I love these traits (I married one just like him!) but I didn't value them as a teen. Meanwhile, having girls as friends will get a guy far. I told him that his new homework was to look at a girl at school and say 'hi' to her. That was all. We'll see if he's even able to find girls among the crowd. It isn't that he dislikes girls right now, he just isn't really aware that they exist. They do, and they'll appreciate the gesture. And, they'll giggle.
"I think he likes me!" He bumped me when he was going to the pencil sharpener and he didn't even have to go that direction!" <beams for days>
*next week*
"I'm so depressed. Did you see him talk to her in the hallway? I think we're over." <cries for days>
Men may have no clue that this conversation takes place dozens of times for most girls. I'm currently trying to figure out if my nine year old Pook has any clue at all about the minds of girls. It appears that he does not.
He and I have been reading aloud book 5 of the Harry Potter series. This is the first book which has included any romance. I first realized his cluelessness when Hermione explained to Harry that the reason Ginny never talked to him last year was because she'd liked him. The other night Harry was given his first kiss, by the long admired Cho. Again, Hermione came to the translating rescue. Harry was clueless. Both times Pook was clueless.
I mentioned to him that it was a good idea for a boy to have some girls as buddies, like Harry has in Hermione, so that they can explain other girls to him. I pushed the matter a bit and asked him what girls he's friends with at school. He was speechless, not just avoiding the question. I tried to make it easier. "If your birthday party was tomorrow and you could invite five boys and five girls, who would you invite?" He stalled on narrowing the boys to five. All he could come up with was, "Would I have to invite girls?"
I'm going to assume that the girls at his school are already ogling over boys. It starts young. I'm also assuming that he isn't entirely ignored in this. I'm further assuming that he has no idea. Which means he will break hearts he never noticed. And as his mom, it is my responsibility to help him become the type of man that will make someone a good partner someday. Learning to talk to girls is an important skill. (I think this skill is important whether my child is gay or straight, by the way.) Some men understand us, but all boys should be taught to try.
Obviously, I have the perspective of his mom, but I'd say he's exactly the kind of guy that women will love. In thirty years. He's a cute, tall, brainy bookworm. I love these traits (I married one just like him!) but I didn't value them as a teen. Meanwhile, having girls as friends will get a guy far. I told him that his new homework was to look at a girl at school and say 'hi' to her. That was all. We'll see if he's even able to find girls among the crowd. It isn't that he dislikes girls right now, he just isn't really aware that they exist. They do, and they'll appreciate the gesture. And, they'll giggle.
Friday, August 27, 2010
chicken nugget, anyone?
I have the goal of sending lunch boxes to school with the boys three times a week this year. Maybe we'll make it four next year and everyday the year after. We'll see. This is hard enough as it is. The first few days of school I let them eat the school lunch so they could learn their teachers' routines for doing so. Then they took a lunch from home to learn that routine. It took a week before I got a menu anyway. (I found one online that shows that the whole county is eating the same thing on the same day.) Last week we did pretty well but I think they took their lunch just twice. This week the menu had me more motivated. They served chicken nuggets three times this week!
The menu on Monday,
Choice Of One Entrée:
Asian Chicken Bites with Whole Grain Roll and Fried Rice
Ravioli with Whole Grain Roll
Choice of two sides:
Lettuce & Tomato
Fruit Cocktail
Mixed Vegetables
Fresh Pears
Choice of Milk
Later in the week they served "Honey BBQ Chicken Nuggets With Whole Grain Roll" and Friday was plain old "Chicken Nuggets With Whole Grain Roll". I find several things wrong here. I wonder if anyone noticed that there were nuggets three times this week. Then there is the bizarre pattern of including a roll with every dish, which according to the Jamie Oliver show has to do with government regulations gone awry. The other days this week included a choice of a corn dog or nachos on Tuesday and fried chicken.or a turkey burger Thursday. I let them eat lunch at school Thursday since the fried chicken is pretty good!
Our lunches from home were not really exciting this week. Twice they took yogurt. I have a "lunch menu" on the fridge which they can use to help make their own lunches. I need to have egg salad or hummus around if I want them to choose it! In general however, this menu is helping a good bit. Also helping is that we've started making lunches after school for the following day and not waiting until the dinner craziness, bedtime or (the dreaded) breakfast and lunch being prepared at the same time. Here is our menu: (They always take water.)
bread products:
sandwich bread
pita
mini croissant
whole grain crackers
mini muffin
bread stick
flour tortilla
protein:
yogurt
deli meat
cheese slices/cubes
hummus
tofu spread
egg salad
pimento cheese spread
dips:
pasta sauce
salad dressing
fruits/vegetables:
fresh fruit whole/sliced
applesauce
baby carrots
tomatoes
red bell pepper slices
snap peas
edamame
Treats: (not daily)
drinking yogurt/squeeze yogurt
chocolate milk box
lemonade powder (little tubes they can add to their water)
cookie
granola bar
cereal bar
dried fruit
honey stick
I am linking to Fed Up With Lunch for her Blogger Party. Join in!
The menu on Monday,
Choice Of One Entrée:
Asian Chicken Bites with Whole Grain Roll and Fried Rice
Ravioli with Whole Grain Roll
Choice of two sides:
Lettuce & Tomato
Fruit Cocktail
Mixed Vegetables
Fresh Pears
Choice of Milk
Later in the week they served "Honey BBQ Chicken Nuggets With Whole Grain Roll" and Friday was plain old "Chicken Nuggets With Whole Grain Roll". I find several things wrong here. I wonder if anyone noticed that there were nuggets three times this week. Then there is the bizarre pattern of including a roll with every dish, which according to the Jamie Oliver show has to do with government regulations gone awry. The other days this week included a choice of a corn dog or nachos on Tuesday and fried chicken.or a turkey burger Thursday. I let them eat lunch at school Thursday since the fried chicken is pretty good!
Our lunches from home were not really exciting this week. Twice they took yogurt. I have a "lunch menu" on the fridge which they can use to help make their own lunches. I need to have egg salad or hummus around if I want them to choose it! In general however, this menu is helping a good bit. Also helping is that we've started making lunches after school for the following day and not waiting until the dinner craziness, bedtime or (the dreaded) breakfast and lunch being prepared at the same time. Here is our menu: (They always take water.)
bread products:
sandwich bread
pita
mini croissant
whole grain crackers
mini muffin
bread stick
flour tortilla
protein:
yogurt
deli meat
cheese slices/cubes
hummus
tofu spread
egg salad
pimento cheese spread
dips:
pasta sauce
salad dressing
fruits/vegetables:
fresh fruit whole/sliced
applesauce
baby carrots
tomatoes
red bell pepper slices
snap peas
edamame
Treats: (not daily)
drinking yogurt/squeeze yogurt
chocolate milk box
lemonade powder (little tubes they can add to their water)
cookie
granola bar
cereal bar
dried fruit
honey stick
I am linking to Fed Up With Lunch for her Blogger Party. Join in!
Thursday, August 19, 2010
time lapse
It looks like it should all fit in. On paper. And yet, in real life, it doesn't seem to be working. The school year is young, and it will get easier (before the holidays come and it gets harder) but we aren't able to have hindsight at this point.
The way it looks on paper:
Pook Bug
The time between getting home from school before dinner is about three hours. There is no opportunity for any of these activities after dinner. We have bath/shower, read aloud time and tuck in. I guess Pook sometimes reads silently in bed, sometimes we read for longer to him. We're in book five of Harry Potter right now and so we usually read downstairs while Bug gets tucked.
Since both boys consider silent reading to be a good thing, they sometimes read longer and don't go play. Either way, it seems to me that they're getting a chance for free time. And yet we haven't found it this school year.
I know Pook dawdles over homework. I compared notes with the parents of his friends last year and the other boys seemed to accomplish in 20 minutes what Pook did in an hour. Homework isn't particularly challenging, but when it is difficult it takes him even longer. And when he's enjoying it he spends way too long-- as he did today, inventing an island and drawing a treasure map. We got started late (what is a normal day anyway?) after Bug's piano lesson and an emergency visit to clean the school's fish tank. (another post entirely). By the time we were home it was 4:30 and I thought, having done all the busy work homework while I worked with the tank, that the map, the piano practice and saxophone time would all fit fine. (I'd call it saxophone practice but he hasn't had a lesson yet so he's just "doodling".) It did not. I postponed dinner until he'd finished it all, but he and I both felt rushed and stressed.
Fall baseball has started too, fortunately only on weekends. I've always tried to keep my kids under scheduled (in comparison to most others we know at least) and right now it does not feel under scheduled. I'm wondering if it will all fit this year.
The way it looks on paper:
Pook Bug
snack 20 minutes 20
piano 20 20
sax 20 -
homework 1 hour (?) 20
silent reading 20 20
physical therapy exercises - 20
totals 2 hours 20 min 1 hour 40 minutes
The time between getting home from school before dinner is about three hours. There is no opportunity for any of these activities after dinner. We have bath/shower, read aloud time and tuck in. I guess Pook sometimes reads silently in bed, sometimes we read for longer to him. We're in book five of Harry Potter right now and so we usually read downstairs while Bug gets tucked.
Since both boys consider silent reading to be a good thing, they sometimes read longer and don't go play. Either way, it seems to me that they're getting a chance for free time. And yet we haven't found it this school year.
I know Pook dawdles over homework. I compared notes with the parents of his friends last year and the other boys seemed to accomplish in 20 minutes what Pook did in an hour. Homework isn't particularly challenging, but when it is difficult it takes him even longer. And when he's enjoying it he spends way too long-- as he did today, inventing an island and drawing a treasure map. We got started late (what is a normal day anyway?) after Bug's piano lesson and an emergency visit to clean the school's fish tank. (another post entirely). By the time we were home it was 4:30 and I thought, having done all the busy work homework while I worked with the tank, that the map, the piano practice and saxophone time would all fit fine. (I'd call it saxophone practice but he hasn't had a lesson yet so he's just "doodling".) It did not. I postponed dinner until he'd finished it all, but he and I both felt rushed and stressed.
Fall baseball has started too, fortunately only on weekends. I've always tried to keep my kids under scheduled (in comparison to most others we know at least) and right now it does not feel under scheduled. I'm wondering if it will all fit this year.
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