You know those nights when you have a fever and you're freezing all night long, but simultaneously sweating, and your head is killing you, and you feel sick to your stomach, and you toss and turn in a restless half-sleep, and wake feeling like you can't stand to move? Those definitely-call-in-sick kind of days? Last night was like that, except then I had to get up, make breakfast, make the kids' lunches, get everybody fed and dressed and then put on boots and coats and hats and mittens and get them buckled into the car and then drive the car to school and then get off the boots and coats and hats and mittens and get the kids checked in and then drive home.
******
For the first two years of preschool, Milo and Nora had the best teachers ever. They were so empathetic and loving, and what really comforted me is that I could tell they both just genuinely liked the kids so much. One time I brought them into the classroom and Milo was telling them about his ear doctor's appointment, and Nora, not wanting to miss out, piped up, "AND I'M CONSTIPATED!" And both of their teachers just cracked up laughing, and one of them said, "Oh Nora, I love you!" I felt comfortable leaving them with their teachers, even though they were young enough that sometimes they would cry when I left, because their teachers were so awesome.
This year their teachers are more like the traditional teachers. There is nothing wrong with them, but they're not like the old teachers. One of them in particular is really quite strict. Every time she comes over to talk to me, I feel a little nervous because I know that she's going to tell me something not so great about Milo. (It's always Milo. This bothers me too.) For instance, this morning she came to talk to me because yesterday Milo had struggled when it came time to put on his snowsuit.
Milo is having a phase now where everything bothers him if it's not just right. He gets upset very quickly if his socks or shoes don't feel right, or if his pants are too loose, or if his coat feels too big or too small. Every little thing has to be just so or he's liable to freak out. This is kind of new. He wasn't like that as a baby, the way Nora was. I think Milo is in a stage of disequilibrium these days, and he's just kind of off in general. Anyway, yesterday they put on their snowsuits to go outside and Milo got really upset because his pants were bunched up inside his snowsuit and it didn't feel right. According to his teacher he totally lost it and he was sobbing, and she had to help him make it right. (This she didn't like, I got the impression, because they are supposed to do it all themselves.)
I mean...yeah. Milo is doing that these days, and I understand it's inconvenient and frustrating. But I don't think he can help it. She wants me to try to desensitize him a little bit so that these things don't bother him so much, but I'm not sure how to do that. My guess is that it's a phase and he'll get better over time or develop coping mechanisms. I feel kind of sorry for him. I also empathize, as I'm a little like that too. I hate to get my hands wet, I hate it when my sleeves are bunched up or my socks fall down, etc. The thing to work on is probably helping him deal with his frustration without totally losing it - but you'd think his teacher would know how to tackle that angle herself.
Fortunately, the kids see to like their teachers just fine, so that what's most important, I imagine. I'm pretty determined not to go down the road of thinking my kids are oh-so-special snowflakes who must be treated a certain way by everybody in their lives.
******
This morning in the car on the way to school, Nora said, "Mom, all of the other girls in our class like things like pink and purple and other pretty things. And I don't really like that stuff." I said, "It's okay if you don't like that stuff. You don't have to like it." She said, "But the girls want me to like it, they want me to play those things with them." Awwww. This matches with what I have seen, which is that the other kids are nice to Nora and they do want to play with her and they include her. But she isn't quite sure how to fit in because she has interests that are a little different from most of the girls.
The girls in the kids' class are extra frilly this year, for whatever reason, so it might not be the best fit in the world for Nora, but I'm hopeful that she'll find her own way as a kid and find her own group of kids who she feels comfortable playing with. Nora certainly likes playing with her neighborhood friends and other friends outside of school.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Trees, Wagons, and Dinosaurs
This year we decided to cut down a balsam fir, which was at the far end of the fields so we hopped on the hay wagon to make our way there. The kids had a blast. While Jake and I picked out a tree, the kids just ran up and down through the rows of trees, over the hill and back again. Like dogs happy to be free they just ran and ran and ran. Once we returned with our tree, Nora and Milo played in the hay tunnels and drank complimentary hot apple cider while Jake strapped the tree to the car. Definitely the best Christmas tree cutting experience ever. No snow, no frozen fingers, no tears, no lost gloves, no colds, no bronchitis. I feel like this is symbolic of how life is getting back to normal as the kids leave the toddler/preschool years and enter the classic childhood years.
On Saturday afternoon I made chili and we trimmed the tree, the kids putting 18 ornaments on the same low branch, which the cat then proceeded to attack over and over again. It was so fun this year because Milo and Nora are at the age where they're super excited about all of this stuff. They love the Christmas lights, and were really eager to get the tree, and they couldn't wait to decorate it. Now right before bed they both creep back downstairs for one last look at the tree, walking all around it admiring the different ornaments.
On Saturday evening we went to a party and once again I was reminded of how great the childhood years can be, as the kids spent the whole time playing with another little girl off on their own. This might be the first party we've attended as a family that felt like an actual party to both me and Jake; neither of us had to spend the whole time following kids around.
Today was the kids' birthday party, which they shared with two other kids from their class. I was happy to do a 4-in-1 party and kill a bunch of birds with one stone. It was at the Children's museum and the kids dressed up as dinosaurs, erupted a volcano, and had cake but definitely the best part was just playing in the museum after those formal activities ended.
The only sad part of the day was seeing Milo's tears start to emerge because he couldn't blow out his trick candle for good. Trick candles are maybe not the best for almost 5-year olds who don't quite get the concept.
Rather than doing traditional birthday gifts we had an exchange, where each kid brought a present and took one home. So the kids had a reasonable 1 present each instead of an unreasonable 20 presents each. Both presents were games, which we played tonight while my potato and leek soup bubbled on the stove.
I had to laugh when we were driving home in the car, the kids excited to open their presents when we got home. They also had a couple of cards, so I said, "You can open your cards too." Nora said, "No we can't, we're opening our presents." I replied, "You can open your present and your cards." And then I heard the future teenager talk back to me, as Nora said, "Mom, I don't have one hundred hands!" Like, sheesh, are you really that dense mother?
It has been kind of a rough week for me. I feel like I'm on the edge of having a giant preschool-level tantrum myself these days, as I deal with a mathematician at work who has begun harassing me again. I try to leave that behind when I come home as best I can, but it's hard to think about everything I need to do for birthdays and parties and school snacks and Christmas and the end of the semester and meetings and deadlines.
But the kids don't know about that stuff, and they're almost 5, and I'm already looking forward to next Saturday, dreaming about cookie baking and Charlie Brown Christmas watching and present wrapping.
Friday, December 7, 2012
You Can Never Go Back
I lived in the bay area for 5 years in the 90s. I lived in a 500 square foot apartment on the Stanford campus and worked as a teacher, and eventually also got a master's degree part time on evenings and weekends. I enjoyed living there and made some wonderful friends, who I still cherish today.
So going back to the bay area is incredibly nostalgic. It is just so beautiful there. I'm more apt to feel this way in the deepest winter months, when it's frozen and snowy in my hometown. In California it's never frozen and snowy. Even though it was rainy during my brief visit, it was warm and green and I got to see the ocean and the trees and feel the breeze on my skin.
One of the things I did when I was in California was spend a night in Palo Alto, close to where I used to live. At one point I met a dear friend for coffee on the downtown strip, and marveled at how much everything has changed. Later we wandered through the Stanford shopping center, and everything has changed there too.
I think the big thing that changed was the dot com boom. Downtown Palo Alto was never shabby, but it wasn't particularly fancy either. Now it is ridiculously fancy. Like, I walked into a clothing store and saw jackets for $1500 and sweaters for $800. I went to the shopping center and saw a different place from what I knew from my time there. It is a place that caters to the ultra wealthy.
We've been priced out of the bay area permanently. A professor could never make the necessary salary to buy even a condo to house a 4-person family, never mind a house. This is probably just as well, because I've spent enough time in a smaller town now that I've lost my tolerance for extreme amounts of traffic, crowds, high prices, status cars and clothes, and no parking spots at the grocery store.
I met my father and stepmother for lunch while there. My dad was unable to make it through an hour's lunch without making denigrating remarks about academics (like me), government employees (like me), and making sneering, incorrect claims about teachers who make 150K while working "seasonal, part-time" jobs. (I looked it up. The average teacher's salary in the district he referenced is actually 57K. Meanwhile, the median home sales price is 1.6 million.)
Every single time I agree to see my dad, I end up regretting it. I really, really need to stop. I am 41 years old, and it's pathetic that I still allow such casual, cutting remarks to hurt me so deeply after so many years. But for whatever reason, they do.
The bay area, with its ostentatious displays of wealth and status, is a good place for people with values like my father's, but it wouldn't be a good place for me. I feel more at home in my hometown, a place where folks actually respect hard working people like teachers. When I lived in California, I didn't take full advantage of everything the bay area had to offer, probably because I spent so much of my twenties working until all hours of the night, grading, prepping lessons, making tests and quizzes, and developing new classroom activities. (You can't do that stuff during the work day, because during the day you're actually teaching.) Like everybody I knew, I worked summers to supplement my low income (which never even made it to 30K). You know what? I wish teachers made 150K. Sometimes I can forget how cushy my life is now, and how easy my job is compared to my time spent teaching. The fact that I actually get to sit for most of the day, the fact that I get to go to the bathroom whenever I please, the fact that I do not have to control the behavior of 30 teenagers at a time, some who would (and did) happily tell me to fuck off on a daily basis...my god, the ease of my job now compared to that degree of stress and physical exhaustion is ridiculous.
You know what I like about where I live now? People write op-eds in the paper thanking their children's teachers for the work they do. The winters suck, but the values of my community align a little better to my own.
So going back to the bay area is incredibly nostalgic. It is just so beautiful there. I'm more apt to feel this way in the deepest winter months, when it's frozen and snowy in my hometown. In California it's never frozen and snowy. Even though it was rainy during my brief visit, it was warm and green and I got to see the ocean and the trees and feel the breeze on my skin.
One of the things I did when I was in California was spend a night in Palo Alto, close to where I used to live. At one point I met a dear friend for coffee on the downtown strip, and marveled at how much everything has changed. Later we wandered through the Stanford shopping center, and everything has changed there too.
I think the big thing that changed was the dot com boom. Downtown Palo Alto was never shabby, but it wasn't particularly fancy either. Now it is ridiculously fancy. Like, I walked into a clothing store and saw jackets for $1500 and sweaters for $800. I went to the shopping center and saw a different place from what I knew from my time there. It is a place that caters to the ultra wealthy.
We've been priced out of the bay area permanently. A professor could never make the necessary salary to buy even a condo to house a 4-person family, never mind a house. This is probably just as well, because I've spent enough time in a smaller town now that I've lost my tolerance for extreme amounts of traffic, crowds, high prices, status cars and clothes, and no parking spots at the grocery store.
I met my father and stepmother for lunch while there. My dad was unable to make it through an hour's lunch without making denigrating remarks about academics (like me), government employees (like me), and making sneering, incorrect claims about teachers who make 150K while working "seasonal, part-time" jobs. (I looked it up. The average teacher's salary in the district he referenced is actually 57K. Meanwhile, the median home sales price is 1.6 million.)
Every single time I agree to see my dad, I end up regretting it. I really, really need to stop. I am 41 years old, and it's pathetic that I still allow such casual, cutting remarks to hurt me so deeply after so many years. But for whatever reason, they do.
The bay area, with its ostentatious displays of wealth and status, is a good place for people with values like my father's, but it wouldn't be a good place for me. I feel more at home in my hometown, a place where folks actually respect hard working people like teachers. When I lived in California, I didn't take full advantage of everything the bay area had to offer, probably because I spent so much of my twenties working until all hours of the night, grading, prepping lessons, making tests and quizzes, and developing new classroom activities. (You can't do that stuff during the work day, because during the day you're actually teaching.) Like everybody I knew, I worked summers to supplement my low income (which never even made it to 30K). You know what? I wish teachers made 150K. Sometimes I can forget how cushy my life is now, and how easy my job is compared to my time spent teaching. The fact that I actually get to sit for most of the day, the fact that I get to go to the bathroom whenever I please, the fact that I do not have to control the behavior of 30 teenagers at a time, some who would (and did) happily tell me to fuck off on a daily basis...my god, the ease of my job now compared to that degree of stress and physical exhaustion is ridiculous.
You know what I like about where I live now? People write op-eds in the paper thanking their children's teachers for the work they do. The winters suck, but the values of my community align a little better to my own.
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Maybe I Should Get a Lock
There must be something about me taking a shower that sends off a little alarm in the kids' heads that beeps and goes, "GO INTO THE BATHROOM NOW AND BOTHER MOM FOR 20 SECONDS AND THEN RUN IN AND OUT OF THE ROOM ABOUT 12 TIMES OVER THE NEXT 10 MINUTES LEAVING THE DOOR OPEN SO THAT THE ROOM STAYS REALLY COLD."
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Milo's Day
This morning Milo fell at school and bumped his mouth against the table. They called us to see if maybe we wanted to take him to the doctor or the dentist. So I had to come in during the middle of the morning to see how he was doing. Milo seemed okay but had some blood on his gums and didn't want to bite down on anything.
If this had happened at home, that would have been the end of it. But you can't be that asshole parent at school who says, "Yeah, I actually don't think it's necessary to call the dentist over this, I'm sure he'll be fine." So I had to take him to the dentist, who looked at his mouth for about 30 seconds and declared him fine. So long, aspirations of getting work done.
By then it was the afternoon so we went ahead and picked up Nora, too, and then I took them to the store to get presents for the present exchange for the party we're having this weekend. We're having a joint birthday party for 4 kids with close birthdays. Instead of making everybody bring presents for four kids, we're having everybody bring just one gift and then we'll do an exchange. While we were at the store, I also got soup (Milo doesn't want to chew hard things after bumping his mouth). So it was a nice evening meal of chicken noodle soup for the kids.
Later Jake asked Milo, "What do you think you want to get Mom for Christmas?" Milo said, "I don't know...maybe a new bottle opener." Gee, and I thought my drinking was under control!
Later Milo sought me out and asked me what he should get for Dad. I said, maybe Dad would like a tie, and Milo was happy about that idea. But then he told Jake about it, and Jake said, "Now you can't get me a tie since it wouldn't be a surprise." Jake was joking, but Milo took it to heart and became very worried about how he had ruined the tie idea and what would he do instead? Poor kid. Perhaps tomorrow afternoon the kids and I will spend some time doing something for Jake's Christmas present.
It sort of reminds me of this sweet tear-jerker of a commercial:
If this had happened at home, that would have been the end of it. But you can't be that asshole parent at school who says, "Yeah, I actually don't think it's necessary to call the dentist over this, I'm sure he'll be fine." So I had to take him to the dentist, who looked at his mouth for about 30 seconds and declared him fine. So long, aspirations of getting work done.
By then it was the afternoon so we went ahead and picked up Nora, too, and then I took them to the store to get presents for the present exchange for the party we're having this weekend. We're having a joint birthday party for 4 kids with close birthdays. Instead of making everybody bring presents for four kids, we're having everybody bring just one gift and then we'll do an exchange. While we were at the store, I also got soup (Milo doesn't want to chew hard things after bumping his mouth). So it was a nice evening meal of chicken noodle soup for the kids.
Later Jake asked Milo, "What do you think you want to get Mom for Christmas?" Milo said, "I don't know...maybe a new bottle opener." Gee, and I thought my drinking was under control!
Later Milo sought me out and asked me what he should get for Dad. I said, maybe Dad would like a tie, and Milo was happy about that idea. But then he told Jake about it, and Jake said, "Now you can't get me a tie since it wouldn't be a surprise." Jake was joking, but Milo took it to heart and became very worried about how he had ruined the tie idea and what would he do instead? Poor kid. Perhaps tomorrow afternoon the kids and I will spend some time doing something for Jake's Christmas present.
It sort of reminds me of this sweet tear-jerker of a commercial:
Monday, December 3, 2012
Parenting Strengthens Radical Constructivist Epistemology
Here's one of the "books" Nora wrote tonight. She wrote:
"My June is good. My June is happy. My Decembr was good." (She wrote the right page about June first, and the left page about December second.)
Nora wrote another book, but I made her stop in the middle when it was bedtime. She wrote:
"We pland to mak applsoc and somun..." (We planned to make applesauce and someone...) Someone what? We will have to wait for tomorrow for the next installment to find out what someone did. Nora took her books to bed with her and when I turned out the light and closed the door she proceeded to read them to her stuffed animals.
Some things I love about this book:
I love that Nora picked June and December. Sounds like June and December were good months, but what about the other 10? Also, is Nora clear on what month it is right now?
The other thing I love about this book (or at least watching Nora write it) is that it becomes clear that the convention of writing in a straight line from left to right is a constructed understanding. There are times when I think Nora will continue the word on the next line, because she's out of room, but she'll just keep writing even if it runs up against another word that is already there. Reading some of the things she writes can be easy if you're watching her write it, but if you just look at the finished object, it can be almost impossible at times to disentangle the jumble of letters and words going every which way. A child can be almost 5 and have several books a day read to her from the very day she was born and still not yet have internalized the straight line, back-and-forth way that we structure our writing.
It totally reminds me of an article called "students' spatial structuring of 2D arrays of squares." This is one of my favorite articles of all time. They showed how young children do not "see" the row-by-column structure in rectangular arrays that we assume. The assumption that students will see this structure is critical in our use of arrays for multiplication and area models. The article showed that this structure isn't "in" the array at all. It's a constructed understanding, one that we have so internalized that we don't realize that this isn't something you just automatically perceive. They had awesome pictures of kids' drawings that showed that some kids organized the arrays by spirals and other organizations that were mathematically unhelpful.
As von Glasersfeld said, "The cognitive organism shapes and coordinates its experience, and in doing so, transforms it into a structured world." Truly one of the most enjoyable aspects of parenting for me has been observing the ways in which this happens with Milo and Nora as they grow and assimilate their worlds. When I bump up against those times when their structuring of the world differs from my own, it reminds me again and again how everything, every last thing is constructed. It's a really awesome and powerful realization.
Thursday, November 29, 2012
More conference adventures
I am traveling tomorrow. I have to fly to San Jose, and then drive an hour and a half south to Pacific Grove. Apparently there's a flash flood watch in effect tomorrow and through the weekend over the entire area where I'll be driving. Somebody told me that the bay area is expecting the worst storm of the year this weekend.
This should be something of an adventure!
I remember when I lived in California I loved it when the rain came. It was such a departure from the constant sun, which could start to feel kind of oppressive after a while. The rain always seemed cozy.
This should be something of an adventure!
I remember when I lived in California I loved it when the rain came. It was such a departure from the constant sun, which could start to feel kind of oppressive after a while. The rain always seemed cozy.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Bizarro Conference World
I just looked at my email from yesterday, and received 6 emails about this conference I'm attending this weekend and nobody has answered my simple question in all of those emails: "Where is the location of my talk?"
This is absolutely the weirdest, worst-organized conference I've ever encountered. I have given roughly 40 talks over the past years and never once have I encountered a situation in which a) I was randomly assigned a roommate (?!?), b) There is no information on the website or the program that includes room locations of talks, c) There may not be an LCD projector available (?!?). These three things are so bizarre that it never would have occurred to me to, for instance, worry about making sure there's actually a projector in the giant room in which I have to give the opening address to the entire audience of conference-goers for an hour. Not to mention, I'm still pretty ticked off about being invited to give this opening address and then being assigned a random roommate.
So back to the 6 emails. Apparently they have some system where they send out registration materials to conference goers, and I guess those registration materials contain all of the information, like, oh, where your actual talk is located. So I got this email saying, "remember to bring your registration materials or else we'll charge you $5 to reprint them at the conference site." I wrote back saying that I had never gotten any materials, which isn't surprising because I hadn't registered for this conference. (The person who invited me to give the address arranged everything.) Then I got repeated emails saying that I could pick up materials at the registration desk, but that desk closes before I am scheduled to arrive. So all I keep asking, over and over again, is this: "Registration closes before I am supposed to arrive. So can you just tell me where my talk is located, since it's at 8 a.m. the next morning? And can you confirm there will be a projector?"
No. Apparently they cannot do that. They just ignore that part of my question each time, and write back saying, "You can pick up your registration materials at the surf and sand building."
I am this close to just saying screw it and canceling my trip.
This is absolutely the weirdest, worst-organized conference I've ever encountered. I have given roughly 40 talks over the past years and never once have I encountered a situation in which a) I was randomly assigned a roommate (?!?), b) There is no information on the website or the program that includes room locations of talks, c) There may not be an LCD projector available (?!?). These three things are so bizarre that it never would have occurred to me to, for instance, worry about making sure there's actually a projector in the giant room in which I have to give the opening address to the entire audience of conference-goers for an hour. Not to mention, I'm still pretty ticked off about being invited to give this opening address and then being assigned a random roommate.
So back to the 6 emails. Apparently they have some system where they send out registration materials to conference goers, and I guess those registration materials contain all of the information, like, oh, where your actual talk is located. So I got this email saying, "remember to bring your registration materials or else we'll charge you $5 to reprint them at the conference site." I wrote back saying that I had never gotten any materials, which isn't surprising because I hadn't registered for this conference. (The person who invited me to give the address arranged everything.) Then I got repeated emails saying that I could pick up materials at the registration desk, but that desk closes before I am scheduled to arrive. So all I keep asking, over and over again, is this: "Registration closes before I am supposed to arrive. So can you just tell me where my talk is located, since it's at 8 a.m. the next morning? And can you confirm there will be a projector?"
No. Apparently they cannot do that. They just ignore that part of my question each time, and write back saying, "You can pick up your registration materials at the surf and sand building."
I am this close to just saying screw it and canceling my trip.
Monday, November 26, 2012
I Got Nothing!
I went to this tenure thing today, a thing for the mentors and department chairs about how to better shepherd people through the process. It was a 90 minute meeting and afterwards I was beat. I spent 90 minutes being nervous as all hell, which is insane because I already have tenure. I still haven't stopped feeling freaked out about the whole topic, though, apparently.
I didn't really learn anything new. A major message was basically, don't be arrogant idiots. Actually write a good case and explain shit to people and don't assume that everybody is all cool with your super jargony postmodernist lingo. This is definitely a message some of our department members need to hear.
*******
Good thing #1: Dinner out tomorrow!
Good thing #2: My mother comes on Wednesday!
Good thing #3: Tenure party for my colleague on Thursday!
Good thing #4: I go to the bay area on Friday!
*******
Tonight Nora sat down and made a shopping list. She spelled everything the way you'd expect a 4-year old to spell stuff, like "karits", but it all made sense. Shopping list: Food, potatoes, carrots, parsley, pickle. And probably another thing or two I can't make out. With the exception of "food", Nora doesn't actually eat any of those other things.
*******
I got another talk invite today, for a national professional development conference. With an actual honorarium and everything!
I think the moral of the story is that when you write 3 books for teachers through your national organization, people start to notice after a while and it starts to pay off. So that's cool, for sure. Except more travel, which, you know, work/family whatever bullshitty balance lame metaphor conundrum.
No, I haven't been drinking.
I didn't really learn anything new. A major message was basically, don't be arrogant idiots. Actually write a good case and explain shit to people and don't assume that everybody is all cool with your super jargony postmodernist lingo. This is definitely a message some of our department members need to hear.
*******
Good thing #1: Dinner out tomorrow!
Good thing #2: My mother comes on Wednesday!
Good thing #3: Tenure party for my colleague on Thursday!
Good thing #4: I go to the bay area on Friday!
*******
Tonight Nora sat down and made a shopping list. She spelled everything the way you'd expect a 4-year old to spell stuff, like "karits", but it all made sense. Shopping list: Food, potatoes, carrots, parsley, pickle. And probably another thing or two I can't make out. With the exception of "food", Nora doesn't actually eat any of those other things.
*******
I got another talk invite today, for a national professional development conference. With an actual honorarium and everything!
I think the moral of the story is that when you write 3 books for teachers through your national organization, people start to notice after a while and it starts to pay off. So that's cool, for sure. Except more travel, which, you know, work/family whatever bullshitty balance lame metaphor conundrum.
No, I haven't been drinking.
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Ribald Repartee
Nora: Remember that snowman we made? His balls were so big!
(We did roll enormous snowballs to make the snowman).
*******
Me: Milo, come on upstairs. What are you doing?
Milo: I'm counting my balls! Argh, I only have 5!
(His new toy came with 6 little balls, so he was missing one).
*******
Coming in from getting the mail:
Me: Jake, you have a little package.
Jake: I beg to differ!
(We did roll enormous snowballs to make the snowman).
*******
Me: Milo, come on upstairs. What are you doing?
Milo: I'm counting my balls! Argh, I only have 5!
(His new toy came with 6 little balls, so he was missing one).
*******
Coming in from getting the mail:
Me: Jake, you have a little package.
Jake: I beg to differ!
Friday, November 23, 2012
The Age of Pillow Forts
Hosting a Thanksgiving for 11 is not the same as preparing for a party of 40, but it's a lot of work so I spent much of the week getting ready. And I had two little helpers the whole way through.
On Wednesday the kids were chopping off the ends of the green beans for me. They were standing on their chairs, at the cutting boards, chopping and chopping those beans, very involved in their project. Milo said, "This is so much fun!" And I thought, this is why I had kids. I was waiting for this day, with the four of us in the warm kitchen, gravy bubbling on the stove, a pie in the oven, the cats winding around our feet.
Last night after dinner we played Apples to Apples, which, by the way, is sort of hilarious if half your crowd is from Turkey and they're not quite sure what "fabulous" means or who John Travolta is. Nora wanted to play too, so we gave her some cards and she'd throw a card in at random each time. She played the whole game with us, and somehow managed to mysteriously score more points than I did.
I can really get behind this age. Five is the age I've always dreamed about. You know what else? This morning, I heard Milo open his door at 7:15, so that means he slept in a little bit. 10 seconds later I heard Milo open Nora's door, which he does every morning. He always wakes up first, and then he goes into Nora's room and wakes her up. Sometimes when I get up I'll see the two of them sitting on Nora's bed, reading books. This morning I finally dragged myself out of bed at 7:30 and came downstairs to two quiet kids who were whispering to each other from inside the pillow fort they'd made out of the couch cushions.
Some days I have to get up right at 7 because I hear somebody yelling at somebody else, but other days I can lounge around until 7:30 while the kids play. And that, my friends, is pure gold.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Cardboard Swords
Milo's teacher talked to us about how he's been using inappropriate language at school. I don't mean cussing, but he's been saying aggressive things like "I'm going to kill you!" or "I hate you!" We haven't seen much of this at home, so I'm guessing he learned it at school to begin with, but we have heard some name calling, and hitting/pushing still remains an occasional issue with both of the kids.
The thing I discussed with his teacher is that traditional disciplinary measures like time outs or losing a privilege don't seem to work. Milo doesn't care about them all that much, he just accepts it as a tradeoff for acting how he wants to act. We already talk about empathy and how that makes the other person feel, and we rehearse through alternate things he could do, like saying, "I'm angry right now!" or "I don't like that!" or walking away, but clearly none of those are as satisfying to Milo as just saying something rude and aggressive.
The teacher didn't have great ideas, so I went home and thought about it. I decided to combine a reward system with loss of privileges, so that going a whole day using only kind words and actions can be a concrete goal. (I can totally embrace behaviorist principles when it suits me.) So we sat down and talked to the kids about how we're starting this new system up, and talked about why we're focusing on it because it's so important to use kind words and actions with others and find appropriate ways to be angry. I told them that if they could go all day with only kind words and actions (no name calling, no physical aggression), they'd get a star at the end of the day. If they used an unkind name or hit, pushed, etc., then they would lose the star and lose their iPad time. If they could go a whole week with a star every day, then they could pick out a special prize, like choosing a game we could all play together, or choosing a special video to watch. I made a chart and pinned it up on the wall and each night before bed, they put a star on the chart if they've earned it.
I knew the kids would need a lot of support, especially in the beginning, to remember to handle their conflicts appropriately. What I didn't really take into account was Jake. Basically it has ended up like this: On days when they're mostly with me, or with both of us but I'm there most of the time, they get a star. That's because I'm super vigilant about intervening early when they start to argue, reminding them about kind words and actions, modeling better stuff they can say, etc. I'm always on their case about it. On the days when Jake is watching them, or I'm gone for several hours and it's just them and Jake, they inevitably lose their stars. I totally should have predicted that. Jake is not the "early intervening to avoid a problem developing" type of parent. He's a "try to solve the problem after it has exploded" kind of parent. The kids can be 5 feet away devolving into an ever more heated argument and Jake would be oblivious, daydreaming about historical architecture or pirates or whatever he thinks about. It's only when somebody starts screaming/crying/bleeding that he'll come out of his reverie and look around to see what's going on.
So their chances of going a whole week with all stars and picking a prize seem pretty low, which is a bummer. But on the other hand, last night I got home from data collection and the kids were running around in their pajamas with a piece of string tied around their waists and cardboard swords hanging from the string "holsters". They were having a blast, playing with their swords and holsters. So yeah, Jake's not an early intervention kind of parent, but on the other hand, I'm not a "make a cardboard sword and string holster" kind of parent. Maybe the kids are lucky we're so different.
The thing I discussed with his teacher is that traditional disciplinary measures like time outs or losing a privilege don't seem to work. Milo doesn't care about them all that much, he just accepts it as a tradeoff for acting how he wants to act. We already talk about empathy and how that makes the other person feel, and we rehearse through alternate things he could do, like saying, "I'm angry right now!" or "I don't like that!" or walking away, but clearly none of those are as satisfying to Milo as just saying something rude and aggressive.
The teacher didn't have great ideas, so I went home and thought about it. I decided to combine a reward system with loss of privileges, so that going a whole day using only kind words and actions can be a concrete goal. (I can totally embrace behaviorist principles when it suits me.) So we sat down and talked to the kids about how we're starting this new system up, and talked about why we're focusing on it because it's so important to use kind words and actions with others and find appropriate ways to be angry. I told them that if they could go all day with only kind words and actions (no name calling, no physical aggression), they'd get a star at the end of the day. If they used an unkind name or hit, pushed, etc., then they would lose the star and lose their iPad time. If they could go a whole week with a star every day, then they could pick out a special prize, like choosing a game we could all play together, or choosing a special video to watch. I made a chart and pinned it up on the wall and each night before bed, they put a star on the chart if they've earned it.
I knew the kids would need a lot of support, especially in the beginning, to remember to handle their conflicts appropriately. What I didn't really take into account was Jake. Basically it has ended up like this: On days when they're mostly with me, or with both of us but I'm there most of the time, they get a star. That's because I'm super vigilant about intervening early when they start to argue, reminding them about kind words and actions, modeling better stuff they can say, etc. I'm always on their case about it. On the days when Jake is watching them, or I'm gone for several hours and it's just them and Jake, they inevitably lose their stars. I totally should have predicted that. Jake is not the "early intervening to avoid a problem developing" type of parent. He's a "try to solve the problem after it has exploded" kind of parent. The kids can be 5 feet away devolving into an ever more heated argument and Jake would be oblivious, daydreaming about historical architecture or pirates or whatever he thinks about. It's only when somebody starts screaming/crying/bleeding that he'll come out of his reverie and look around to see what's going on.
So their chances of going a whole week with all stars and picking a prize seem pretty low, which is a bummer. But on the other hand, last night I got home from data collection and the kids were running around in their pajamas with a piece of string tied around their waists and cardboard swords hanging from the string "holsters". They were having a blast, playing with their swords and holsters. So yeah, Jake's not an early intervention kind of parent, but on the other hand, I'm not a "make a cardboard sword and string holster" kind of parent. Maybe the kids are lucky we're so different.
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Full Circle
We've got 7 people coming over for Thanksgiving. So fun, but I'm wondering where we'll seat 11 people...times like this I wish I had just a liiiitle bit of a bigger house! 2 tables, maybe, one in the dining room and one in the living room? Or is that too weird and evocative of the kids' table?
We are getting ready. I bought the kosher turkey today and will start cooking tomorrow. It feels weird to prepare and roast a main dish that I won't be eating, but I can't host Thanksgiving without a turkey, right? We're also making about a thousand side dishes and desserts, and I bought a crapload of wine, so I think we'll be good to go.
I sent out a beg to our neighborhood listserve to borrow a card table - we'll see if the neighborly love comes through for me!
I love big groups at Thanksgiving, especially eclectic ones where you get to host the orphans who aren't going home. When I was in college my best friend of all time would invite me over to his house on Thanksgiving during the years when I didn't go home. His mother began hosting not only Thanksgiving dinners, but also regular Sunday night dinners for some of us college kids who lived far away from home. Those dinners are some of the greatest memories I have. My friend's mom was (is) this amazingly warm, smart, thoughtful woman, and she was just so darn motherly that she mothered all of us in her own way. Living in a dorm, it was such a treat to have these home cooked meals around somebody's dining room table, everybody crowded in and passing dishes and trading off the washing and drying duties afterwards. To this day that little house is one of my favorite houses in the world, and my memories of those friendly dinners and nerdy game-playing sessions afterwards are something to treasure.
We are getting ready. I bought the kosher turkey today and will start cooking tomorrow. It feels weird to prepare and roast a main dish that I won't be eating, but I can't host Thanksgiving without a turkey, right? We're also making about a thousand side dishes and desserts, and I bought a crapload of wine, so I think we'll be good to go.
I sent out a beg to our neighborhood listserve to borrow a card table - we'll see if the neighborly love comes through for me!
I love big groups at Thanksgiving, especially eclectic ones where you get to host the orphans who aren't going home. When I was in college my best friend of all time would invite me over to his house on Thanksgiving during the years when I didn't go home. His mother began hosting not only Thanksgiving dinners, but also regular Sunday night dinners for some of us college kids who lived far away from home. Those dinners are some of the greatest memories I have. My friend's mom was (is) this amazingly warm, smart, thoughtful woman, and she was just so darn motherly that she mothered all of us in her own way. Living in a dorm, it was such a treat to have these home cooked meals around somebody's dining room table, everybody crowded in and passing dishes and trading off the washing and drying duties afterwards. To this day that little house is one of my favorite houses in the world, and my memories of those friendly dinners and nerdy game-playing sessions afterwards are something to treasure.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Okay I'm starting to develop a complex
So first I get asked to give this keynote, but only because their first choice, Mentor, couldn't do it. Okay, fine, I have no problem being second choice for something like that.
Then I got invited to this fancy conference in Georgia, and I was all excited. But I just found out that they invited Mentor too, which is fine, but they offered him a $1000 honorarium and airfare! And they offered me zip!
Always living in the shadow of giants is kind of starting to get on my nerves.
Then I got invited to this fancy conference in Georgia, and I was all excited. But I just found out that they invited Mentor too, which is fine, but they offered him a $1000 honorarium and airfare! And they offered me zip!
Always living in the shadow of giants is kind of starting to get on my nerves.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Sabbatical Fantasies
I have been thinking about my sabbatical activities, should my sabbatical be awarded for next year. I will have all of my normal research and advising duties, but being able to work from home and being freed from teaching and service should, I hope, lend a more relaxed pattern to my days. I have been thinking about focusing strongly on a) exercise, b) research/writing, and c) domestic activities, but lately I've also been contemplating using my time to learn something new.
What should the new thing be? I currently have two ideas. The first is developing a layperson's understanding of cosmology. I have always been super fascinated by the origins of the universe and related phenomena. I did take a special relativity course in college, actually, and understood fairly little of it. But I'm older now. I thought it'd be fun to read the lighter stuff, like Hawking's books for the general public.
The other idea I have is learning about ancient history. I am particularly interested in Greek and Egyptian history. I'm less into Roman history, although you can't get around that, but focusing on Greek history makes sense considering my interests and profession given the strong influence the Greeks had on the ways we think about philosophy, mathematics, and science even today. One tricky issue with this is that I've realized, as an adult, that I really love history, and the older the better. But the problem is that I am not very much interested in wars. Most historical treatments about anything seem to basically involve wars. I don't want to spend my sabbatical year learning about ancient Greek civilization via all the wars that were happening; this is why I found history profoundly boring in high school. So I guess I'd need some guidance on what to read and how to go about it.
Fantasizing about sabbatical makes me think about retirement. I've often thought that I will not retire, or only do so at a very old age. But if I do end up retiring at some point, it could be pretty awesome in its opportunity to afford time to engage in dedicated learning of various topics that interest me. Feels so luxurious! Of course I'll still have to work during sabbatical, so it won't be as luxurious as being retired, but it'll still be pretty luxurious (I hope!).
What should the new thing be? I currently have two ideas. The first is developing a layperson's understanding of cosmology. I have always been super fascinated by the origins of the universe and related phenomena. I did take a special relativity course in college, actually, and understood fairly little of it. But I'm older now. I thought it'd be fun to read the lighter stuff, like Hawking's books for the general public.
The other idea I have is learning about ancient history. I am particularly interested in Greek and Egyptian history. I'm less into Roman history, although you can't get around that, but focusing on Greek history makes sense considering my interests and profession given the strong influence the Greeks had on the ways we think about philosophy, mathematics, and science even today. One tricky issue with this is that I've realized, as an adult, that I really love history, and the older the better. But the problem is that I am not very much interested in wars. Most historical treatments about anything seem to basically involve wars. I don't want to spend my sabbatical year learning about ancient Greek civilization via all the wars that were happening; this is why I found history profoundly boring in high school. So I guess I'd need some guidance on what to read and how to go about it.
Fantasizing about sabbatical makes me think about retirement. I've often thought that I will not retire, or only do so at a very old age. But if I do end up retiring at some point, it could be pretty awesome in its opportunity to afford time to engage in dedicated learning of various topics that interest me. Feels so luxurious! Of course I'll still have to work during sabbatical, so it won't be as luxurious as being retired, but it'll still be pretty luxurious (I hope!).
Monday, November 12, 2012
There Seems to be a Character Imbalance in the Books We Read
The question tonight that surprised me:
Nora: Mom, is there a Queen Arthur?
Nora: Mom, is there a Queen Arthur?
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Run Milo Run
The other night Nora started puttering around, getting a pencil and some paper and muttering about how she wanted to write a message to Milo. I heard her ask Jake, "How do you spell CAN?" Jake said, "Ken, like Uncle Ken?" Nora said, "Yes" and Jake said "K-E-N".
The next thing I knew Nora came to me and showed me what she had produced:
"Run Milo run you can do it".
Oh my gosh, so cute! Why did she pick that message to give Milo? I elicited no reliable information from Nora to answer that question, but I just thought it was the cutest message ever to give to her brother. It makes sense to me that Nora was spelling you as "yoo" and do as "doo", because lately we were looking at Halloween words like "boo" and "spooky", so it's logical to generalize that the "oo" sound comes from two o's.
*******
Here is an anecdote that I thought was cute, and almost posted to facebook, but then didn't because I thought it might be too offensive.
Milo is beginning to do a little reading as well. Tonight I was drinking some Diet Coke with our dinner of peanut stew and rice (which, BTW, is an awesome meal, so warm and hearty for fall, and vegan to boot). Milo looked at my bottle and said, "Cock?" Close, but no, Milo, I am not drinking Diet Cock.
*******
Today was a successful vegan day. For lunch I had leftover black bean and squash chili that Jake made a week ago, for snack I had an apple with hummus, and for dinner we had peanut stew and rice. It was all super satisfying.
I actually don't aspire to really be a vegan, but I would like to give up dairy. I think it'd still be okay to have some occasional goat cheese and eggs. I recently tried some vegan cheese substitute, and...meh. Not bad, but not good enough to feel like it really added anything.
*******
This weekend I sat down with the kids so that they could pick out a couple of recipes for us to make together. I am always trying various tactics to get Nora to eat a better variety of foods. Seldom do any of them work. One thing we do is cook together, which both kids enjoy a lot. This doesn't tend to result in Nora actually eating what we cook, though.
The kids picked bean burritos and peanut butter and jelly muffins. The burritos were just simple bean and cheese affairs rolled up in a tortilla. Milo liked it and ate a lot of it. Nora didn't like it.
The peanut butter and jelly muffins were a hit. They make use of pureed yams and carrots for the sweetness. Combine that with whole wheat flour, eggs, peanut butter, and other things and you've got most of the food groups in them. I might make them with sunflower seed butter next time so that I could pack them in their lunches. (No nut products allowed to go to school.)
*******
It was 65 degrees yesterday and sunny. We spent most of the day outside. The afternoon turned into an impromptu neighborhood party at the park, with parents standing around talking while the kids played chase and tag.
I feel kind of defeated at the thought of the upcoming 4 months of winter.
The next thing I knew Nora came to me and showed me what she had produced:
"Run Milo run you can do it".
Oh my gosh, so cute! Why did she pick that message to give Milo? I elicited no reliable information from Nora to answer that question, but I just thought it was the cutest message ever to give to her brother. It makes sense to me that Nora was spelling you as "yoo" and do as "doo", because lately we were looking at Halloween words like "boo" and "spooky", so it's logical to generalize that the "oo" sound comes from two o's.
*******
Here is an anecdote that I thought was cute, and almost posted to facebook, but then didn't because I thought it might be too offensive.
Milo is beginning to do a little reading as well. Tonight I was drinking some Diet Coke with our dinner of peanut stew and rice (which, BTW, is an awesome meal, so warm and hearty for fall, and vegan to boot). Milo looked at my bottle and said, "Cock?" Close, but no, Milo, I am not drinking Diet Cock.
*******
Today was a successful vegan day. For lunch I had leftover black bean and squash chili that Jake made a week ago, for snack I had an apple with hummus, and for dinner we had peanut stew and rice. It was all super satisfying.
I actually don't aspire to really be a vegan, but I would like to give up dairy. I think it'd still be okay to have some occasional goat cheese and eggs. I recently tried some vegan cheese substitute, and...meh. Not bad, but not good enough to feel like it really added anything.
*******
This weekend I sat down with the kids so that they could pick out a couple of recipes for us to make together. I am always trying various tactics to get Nora to eat a better variety of foods. Seldom do any of them work. One thing we do is cook together, which both kids enjoy a lot. This doesn't tend to result in Nora actually eating what we cook, though.
The kids picked bean burritos and peanut butter and jelly muffins. The burritos were just simple bean and cheese affairs rolled up in a tortilla. Milo liked it and ate a lot of it. Nora didn't like it.
The peanut butter and jelly muffins were a hit. They make use of pureed yams and carrots for the sweetness. Combine that with whole wheat flour, eggs, peanut butter, and other things and you've got most of the food groups in them. I might make them with sunflower seed butter next time so that I could pack them in their lunches. (No nut products allowed to go to school.)
*******
It was 65 degrees yesterday and sunny. We spent most of the day outside. The afternoon turned into an impromptu neighborhood party at the park, with parents standing around talking while the kids played chase and tag.
I feel kind of defeated at the thought of the upcoming 4 months of winter.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
No Princesses
Milo likes to play some sort of royalty princess and knight game with some of the girls at school. Nora is totally not into any of that.
This morning I was getting dressed when Nora came huffing into the bathroom, all indignant. "Mom, make Milo stop! He keeps saying I am the princess and he is going to rescue me but I don't need any rescuing!"
Yup. Something tells me I'm not going to have to worry much about Nora's ability to stand up for herself.
This morning I was getting dressed when Nora came huffing into the bathroom, all indignant. "Mom, make Milo stop! He keeps saying I am the princess and he is going to rescue me but I don't need any rescuing!"
Yup. Something tells me I'm not going to have to worry much about Nora's ability to stand up for herself.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Relief
Well, we really needed that. After what we've gone through over the past couple of years in our state, Jake and I needed to regain some faith in our state and our country.
I have only mentioned the election twice to the kids, once briefly this morning when I told them I was going to vote. That conversation quickly shifted to Milo's assertion that he intends to marry Amelia (a kid at school). But then he thought, and said, "But I have a lot of time to really decide who I'll actually marry." Yes, bud, you sure do - no need to decide it at age 4.
Anyway I guess Jake's stress earlier in the evening over the uncertain (at the time) election outcomes was subtly transferring itself to the kids, because when I got home from collecting data, Nora broke down crying over worry about the election. I couldn't believe it. It made me realize that this probably wasn't about tonight, it was about the last 18 months, the stress and anger and grief that Jake and I experienced and, I'm sure, unintentionally transmitted to the kids over the stuff that has happened in our state, and therefore in our careers, in our finances, and in our lives.
Time to keep fighting, but tonight we're celebrating.
I have only mentioned the election twice to the kids, once briefly this morning when I told them I was going to vote. That conversation quickly shifted to Milo's assertion that he intends to marry Amelia (a kid at school). But then he thought, and said, "But I have a lot of time to really decide who I'll actually marry." Yes, bud, you sure do - no need to decide it at age 4.
Anyway I guess Jake's stress earlier in the evening over the uncertain (at the time) election outcomes was subtly transferring itself to the kids, because when I got home from collecting data, Nora broke down crying over worry about the election. I couldn't believe it. It made me realize that this probably wasn't about tonight, it was about the last 18 months, the stress and anger and grief that Jake and I experienced and, I'm sure, unintentionally transmitted to the kids over the stuff that has happened in our state, and therefore in our careers, in our finances, and in our lives.
Time to keep fighting, but tonight we're celebrating.
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