Two Towers

When I came out of the bathroom, there were two towers of blocks flanking the doorway. Each tower had five blocks in it. I asked Nora how many blocks were there all together, and she said, "1, 2, 3, 4, 5...6, 7, 8, 9, 10. 10! Five and five is ten, and ten and ten is...[thinks]...twenty!"

It is interesting how development occurs in fits and starts across different areas. Before having kids I sort of assumed that kids would either be progressing normally, behind, or ahead in a general sense. But now I see that this differs across different skills, at least for my kids. Nora is very into counting, skip counting, backwards counting, adding, subtracting, and so forth. But...she's still not potty trained at night (not even close). She recognizes her letters and sounds out words now (with varying degrees of success). But...her motor skills are not so great so it is hard for her to write her name. Some things come easy and early for her, and other things come harder and later.

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A few days ago before the ice rink across the street turned into a big puddle, I let the kids try skating for the first time. Milo, accustomed to having an easy time at any physical task, had no caution and kept trying to take big glides. His falls were frequent and spectacular. Nora was more cautious and deliberate. Her falls were gentler.

Milo took a really bad fall, landing flat on his back and banging his head on the ice. After that, he was done. He cried and cried and cried. I took him to the bench and held him, but had to sit him there for a second to go help Nora back up. When I came back, there was a giant, 3-inch long stream of yellow snot hanging out of his nose, tears falling down his cheeks. So sad. I dug around for a kleenex and found an old, dusty crumpled one in my coat pocket. So I used the inadequate kleenex to clear away the enormous snot slug, and then had a new dilemma. There was no garbage can to throw away the inadequate kleenex. Searching around in vain, I then thrust it back into my pocket.

As I held Milo and comforted him Nora kept trying to skate, falling over and over and over again. Somebody gave her a little chair and she would hold onto it for a bit, but then she'd let go and venture away from the chair. Then she'd use the chair to help herself get back into a standing position after each fall. I had to pry her away from the ice so that I could get Milo home and dry. I think she would have stayed out there all day, falling and getting back up over and over again with no desire to ever give up. This is the flip side of Nora's persistent temperament.

The next day I reached into my pocket to pull out my glove, my favorite leather glove with a warm furry interior. As I pulled it on I felt something slimy against my wrist. The warm furry interior was covered in Milo's snot. I looked at the glove's tag. It said, "professional leather clean only." Sigh.