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.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

who are you?

As Pook ambled his slow self to the dinner table last night, he asked what we were having. Nevermind that he could have simply looked. He'd been in the kitchen helping pour milk and had set the table earlier.  I tried to answer, but ended up simply listing the ingredients: "happy pig" sausage, rice, chick peas and kale cooked together with a little Cajun seasoning.

"What should we name it?" I asked.  CD, ever willing to entertain the boys, piped up with the suggestion of "Gerald."  Bug decided he preferred "Felix" and somewhere in the conversation Pook came up with "White on Rice". 

Tonight I invented again, browning fat slices of sweet potato and apple with leftover cubes of pork chop and a glaze of Hoisin sauce.  (Onions would have been a good addition.) "Felix" was suggested again. And no, I have no idea where the name came from. "Fred" is Bug's usual pseudonym.

Both meals were good. I've always figured ingredients which happily share a plate can happily share a pan. Well, maybe not always. But these did.

So, names anyone? Or must I refer to tonight's dinner as "Felix"?

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

group vote

The boys voted today. I've heard of people being told they couldn't bring their young children in the polling room with them, that no one under 18 was allowed in, but the poll workers here were happy to see my boys helping me. And help they did.

Our new city is in need of a mayor and city council-folk. I may have not wanted the city to be formed, but now that I've got it I care who runs it. Or maybe mostly I care who doesn't run it. But we put in our two cents. Pook touched the screen for mayor, Bug voted for the councilperson.

I got to vote for President, which in the grand national scheme probably counts the least. (Should have heard me trying to explain the Electoral College earlier....) But here in our little city? You bet every vote will count. I want to see real numbers tonight. Real 1,234 numbers. So that I can tell that each person was counted. All three of us!

****
update:
Our local election resulted in runoffs all around. The folks the boys voted for both made it into runoffs however, one by only 100 votes. This means that for the rest of you, the political signs will come down and the calls will stop. For us, I expect it will increase for the next three weeks. Help!

Monday, October 29, 2012

when the price is right

Sometimes we gardeners visit a store with a plan to find a specific plant. More often, we visit a garden store and plants find us.  Sometimes this is best!  The sale racks often just have dying annuals, but if you look around a bit there are usually some great finds.

I caught a great sale rack at the big box store (the red and blue one) after a busy fall weekend. I brought home a trunk full of plants for only $7. There were 10¢ snap dragons which had no unidentifiable blossom color. They've now bloomed in my big white pot on the patio and the color is great. I would have been ok with all one of any color, or a mixture. Either way, the price was right. I usually put pansies in the pot this time of year, so snap dragons will be a fun change.

Black and Blue salvia has been on my if-you-see-it-marked-down-this-is-always-a-good-one list. At 25¢ these were quickly put into my cart. I didn't expect to see them bloom this year, so they've been a pleasant fall surprise. I'm not sure I've put them in a good location, but I'll give it a year to see. I want that wonderful blue to pop and even at the edge, my front woodlands are shady.

There was no tag on this yellow friend-of-a-daisy, but the pot did say "perennial" which was good enough for me, also at 25¢. They're in the woodlands garden too, in front of the six foot tall swamp sunflowers. I wish the store had had more, but the three I planted began to bloom within a week of transplanting.



My Sheffield Pink (I think) chrysanthemums were a pass-along from another gardening friend, the best price of all.  They have spread over an eight foot area and may need a new home. They're right in front of the two Beautyberry bushes and since I never pruned them they're almost as tall. I'll see what happens if I put pruning them on my gardening calendar.  It seems they are well loved by flying friends this time of year.


Free and almost free. The perfect price!

Friday, October 26, 2012

all in one paragraph

"I hate you. You are the worst parent in the whole world."

"You hafta help me with my homework because I can't do it otherwise."

This all came out in one paragraph. There might have been a few more sentences in the middle. I tuned out.

I was not declared the worst parent in the world -- the "whole world"-- for not helping with homework. In fact, it was because I was helping that I earned that label.  I went above what had been asked and tried to help a bit extra. I suppose it wasn't what he'd expected and when Bug is confronted with something he hasn't prepared for he usually dislikes it. 

I left the house and took a fifteen minute walk in the nearby park.

I returned to a Bug with his hands on his hips and a mouth puckered in anger.  I heard "you hafta" again and I left the house again. This time I took a book and my glasses and hung out at a picnic table in the park.

Is this being eight years old or just being an intense kid?  Or, perhaps I'm the worst parent in the whole world and the rest of you can relax now that the title is taken.