C still continues to blow us away with his math skills (which luckily continue to develop despite our utter neglect). "If you have $10 and bunny crackers cost $3 a box, how many boxes can you buy?" After 15 seconds of thought and moving one hand as if he were stacking 3 blocks (I have no idea how his mind processes this), he came up with the right answer. (It's 3, Marley!)

Reading, however, continues to completely baffle him. He knows all the sounds letters make, and can identify the letter that starts a given word, but then he has some kind of mental block that stops him from going further. He can't identify letter sounds at the end of a word, and only sometimes can he read rhyming words. (For example: "This word is Rat, R-A-T. What letter makes the rr sound? The A-T make the at sound. What word do you think M-A-T might be?" And he'll answer "milk.")

A remains unimpressed with solid foods. She completely rejects them from Sarah, but will eat some from Dan. Maybe we should just give her Cheerios.

random notes

Dan's installed the pool table in the shed, and the shed now has a decidedly 70's-den ambiance. (Which is exacerbated by the records he plays out there.) Paco is a big fan of the new digs- we were all in the yard yesterday and he barked outside the door until we opened it so he could lie on the rug instead of slummin' on the grass like we were.

C's most recent invention idea is something that automatically stirs food while it's being microwaved so it's evenly heated.

While Dan was buying stamps to send out C's birthday invitations, he ran into a classmate's mom, who was doing the same exact thing for her son. Her son and another classmate, whom we could tell from the very first day of preschool are going to be the prom king and queen in high school, are having a joint birthday party the day before C's. Their invitations included a photo of the two of them dressed as pirates and parchment torn to look like an old treasure map; they will be having a pirate-magician and, we assume, delectable pirate-themed food, treasure chest gift bags with real gold coins imprinted with each guest's name, and a real oceangoing sailboat imported to their yard for use as a playset. We printed out a "you're invited!" note on our computer for each guest (didn't even use card stock) and figured we'd come up with something fun to do a couple days in advance. Even as we sat around mocking Supermom after the kids went to bed that night ("sure, she's always nice in public, but that's because she locks her kids in their rooms when she gets home and drinks! Her kids are polite and well-behaved out of fear!"), we realized that we really were just jealous, and we blame our lame-ness on perpetual lack of sleep.

When C started eating solid foods, we carefully prepared single-ingredient organic fruits and vegetables, waiting five days before introducing a new one, and waiting several months before moving on to harder-to-digest grains. Perhaps when he was 8 months old, we might have given him some organic wheat-free Oatios. We started that route with A, and she's had no enthusiasm for banana, applesauce, or sweet potato. Today she was grabbing at stuff on the kitchen counter, including a few spilled Cheerios (the General Mills chemical-laden version of course- Oatios taste like crap; no way will we eat them). And instead of distracting her from the poison, I told Dan, "just let her have one." And she did.

Alas, the school won't give C free tuition, so I turned them down. I'm still keeping my eyes open for work- teaching is not really ideal, since it requires more energy than data analysis or research coordination or pretty much any of my other skills, but it seems to be the only field that hires anyone part-time for more than minimum wage! (Well, on the east coast anyway.)

We are sooo glad that the weather has finally improved; I couldn't take the oppressive heat any longer. If the rest of the summer is like this, I might feel better about living in the Northeast. We hear that the heat did kill off the blackflies in the Adirondacks, so maybe that will be the heat wave's silver lining.

We've been occasionally offering food to A for a few weeks now and she's been unimpressed, but today she took some sweet potato without spitting it out! I don't know if she decided she liked it or if she was too tired to reject it or if trying it over again just wore her down, but we'll give it another shot tomorrow and see if she's really ready for solid food. (She's getting so big!)

I told the school I'd only accept the job if they gave C free tuition, and they haven't gotten back to me yet. It sounded unlikely, but, you never know-

Well, I was offered the job, and now I just need to figure out whether or not I should take it- do I have the energy to deal with other peoples' kids and my own? Would I end up not making any money after paying for benefits, etc.? Do I really want to go back to having to be somewhere every single day? Hmmmm-

creepy cap and gown graduation photo 

C was the first child out of all 3 classes that "graduated" his pre-school last week to be called by name and come forward... Some of this had to do with the height order they chose for each class, and that his class went first. 

We got fewer bites at least- 

We spent Memorial Day weekend at Twin Trees in North River, fighting off blackflies and convincing the pipes not to leak. Since we were all sharing one unheated bedroom, we were lucky that C managed to sleep through most of A's cries both nights and only woke up to complain of being cold. (I got into bed with him to warm him up, which wasn’t so bad because I was cold, too. Dan and A got the electric blanket. I theorize that whatever evil force fields they emit are weak enough so they’re safe to use a few times a year.) Poor Dan was up much of both nights with A though, trying to let me get sleep, and since he didn’t want to wake anyone up in the main cabin either his choices were pretty limited. We did determine that dairy products definitely do make her sleep even worse, so I’m back to almonds and beans again.

Last week, I had an interview at Bethlehem Children’s School, a small private school a couple miles away, for a part-time middle school math and science teaching position. They asked me to come back to teach a class. They said not to worry about what the kids are working on; make it an enrichment activity.

So this afternoon I go in, wait for the kids in the classroom, wait for the three people who want to observe me, and try to get started. The board is completely covered, and it has a big note on it that says "DO NOT ERASE." Now, I’m versatile, but I knew I’d be more effective if I could write on the board, so I asked if there was anything else I could use. An observer disappears and comes back to say, "Let’s move to my room instead." (I would have preferred doing without, but what could I say?) So we all file into the kindergarten room, where the kids are thrilled to have a big carpet to sit on instead of desks. I start the lesson (discussing animal population fluctuations) and we all go outside for a Project Wild game that went pretty well and got the point across. (One kid said, "This is the best game I’ve ever played," which was affirming but made me wonder if she got out much.)

When we go back in, half the kids need to go back to their own room to get their water bottles so we have a super-long transition; I write the data that we’re going to graph on the board and hand out graph paper while I wait. This was supposed to be a joint math/science lesson, and I planned to talk about the differences between dependent and independent variables and how independent variables go on the x-axis when you graph as the "math" portion. It turned out that this was decidedly not a good idea, because these kids had never drawn a line graph before or used the terms x and y axes. It took me a while to catch on to this, and it was pretty awkward. Meanwhile, one of the kids- the daughter of one of the administrators- is lying on the floor doing nothing. I ignore her. (I don’t even know the kid’s name, and was at a loss as to how to handle it.)

At any rate, I left thinking it was kind of a disaster. I mean, maybe they realized how awkward it is to work with a group of kids you don’t know who don’t even know what you’re doing there (the week before school’s out, no less); how difficult it is to know what level to aim a lesson at when you’re coming in from nowhere (and I must say that I had drawn a line graph by the end of sixth grade); or how ungraceful a class with so many transitions can become. But all three screw-ups? That takes a lot of overlooking.

But, they’ve e-mailed me asking me back yet again. They have evaded my question about salary/ benefits/ tuition remission for C thusfar, so I’m afraid that after going through all these interviews they’re going to offer me so little money that it won’t be worth it. (Honestly, I’d rather not work so many hours when A's still so little, but part-time jobs are so hard to come by around here that I feel like I need to consider it for our long-term future.) So we’ll see what happens NEXT week….

New haircut! 

in process- but you have to wait to see the result! 

Last week was a pretty sad week- our washing machine broke and left us with piles of unwashed diapers for five days, and our toilet overflowed, filled the bathroom with three inches of water, AND leaked into the basement (requiring every remaining towel in our house for clean-up, and of course we couldn’t launder them afterwards).

Since things pretty much sucked anyway, we decided to put together my parents’ hand-me-down office desk. It was fairly straightforward except when the baggie of hardware to go with it disappeared for twenty minutes or so until C innocently suggested, "Maybe it’s in the Lerkim," which is his Lorax-inspired hiding place behind the chair in our living room. Indeed, we found it there- apparently a Barbaloot had whisked it away when we weren’t looking.

This desk was large enough to replace three desks previously inhabiting the office, and they spent several days being shifted around the house. (For a while they blocked our downstairs hallway completely; for a while one prevented us from opening the hall closet; for a while one occupied our bed.) Also, the transfer of computers-and-supplies between desks has been fairly painful, and two large plastic tubs that we’d just purchased for storing recyclables have been usurped and are now holding piles o’ crap under the desk.

But now, all is good. The washing machine was fixed and while it still cost plenty of money, the repairman took pity on us and sold us a "service agreement" that covered the repair for about a quarter of what he could have charged us. The toilet disaster is cleaned up and may have provided C with a good visual lesson in what happens when you use too much toilet paper. (He also has been instructed on where the water turn-offs are.) The new desk is much prettier and more functional, and the old ones have all been relocated or sold at a convenient neighbors’ garage sale.

So now what are we in for?

bad parents

We’ve been bad parents this week. On Wednesday, Dan was the parent helper at preschool; we figured for snack we’d bring in cheese and crackers or something we had around the house. At 11 p.m. I remembered that it was supposed to be a pseudo-birthday celebration for C since he turns 5 over the summer- crackers weren’t going to cut it. So in the morning I dig out a three-year-old box of brownie mix and start mixing it together- when I realize we have no eggs. Hmm, what do eggs do in a recipe? Here, I’ll add some more oil- and a little water- and I’ll beat it up with some ground flaxseeds to hold it together. Just in case it doesn’t work, I’ll put some cookies in the oven- we had just enough frozen dough for 16 very small cookies. But it’ll work. No problem. I’ll toss some leftover Halloween M&Ms on top too, to make it look festive.
For future reference, flaxseeds do not replace eggs. C wanted to bring it along anyway, so he did. 5-year-olds aren’t too picky when it comes to chocolate, luckily, so they were only slightly phased by the lumps of greasy chocolate sludge they were served. (I’m glad we had the cookies too!)

Thursday was Show and Share Day. We never remember to bring anything in for it. This time I realized it while dropping C off, and the best I could come up with was- my library card. (Dan at least could have dug a photo out of his wallet.) So I gave it to him and told him to talk about how fun it is to pick out books. (We don’t want to think about what his teachers think of us by now.)

Monday, C had no matching socks that fit him, due to our washing machine being out of commission. "How about you wear sandals today?" Luckily he was amenable, and the weather was borderline-acceptable for it.

Maple likes to help garden... 

View from 36" 

Looking up, looking down

4/26/05

Despite all the truth behind the popular conception that parenthood can leave you in a constant mental fog, only capable of functioning at the intellectual level of a head of baby bok choy (well perhaps less, when we sleep less than a cabbage gets to), there’s also nothing like parenthood to help you take notice of things.

Like how many seconds your infant can sit up by herself now, balanced on pudgy forearms like a potato- shaped motorcycle with missing wheels, before tottering over…Or how noisy the world is during the day when your baby is trying to nap (and how eerily quiet in the house at night, except for the dogs heavy sighs, as you pace back and forth, back and forth)…

I’m also still re-learning to see the world through C's 4.75 year-old eyes—view from 36 inches I’ve been calling it (though his eyes may be farther off the ground than that at this point). The hundreds of digital photos he’s taken since getting the camera the Christmas before last illustrate this well—dog butts; a dozen seemingly identical pictures looking straight across at the top of a block tower; automobiles looming large, shot while passing, as if with a fish eye lens; adults faces from underneath, peering down like parade puppets.

But it’s his fascination with money (and occasionally noticing a track) that has reminded me to look down, and look well. There are a surprising number of coins to be found when you’re that low to the ground, and more than a few bills as well. Although I usually notice other treasures. Today it's amongst the flotsam in the little strip of green space next to A's doctor’s office parking lot.

Even the trash has meaning of course, though. Take the styrofoam coffee cups and takeout plates and discarded car air fresheners, and the solar calculator I tried, just to be sure it didn’t work. These are signals from folks who didn’t take the time, or care enough to bring a travel mug for their cup of Jo, or to find a trash can. I’ve always struggled to understand just when it became OK to cast our garbage to the wind. Sure litter has been around since kids threw clay tablets with their old homework assignments into the pit by the road, but mass roadside litter-storms probably coincide with the period when automobiles started appearing everywhere like dandelions in the spring. I just can’t picture people throwing a pop can from a bicycle very often, or a crumpled piece of paper from a horse-drawn buggy—these modes of transport would put you too close to the offending object, and your guilt, for too long (and again when you passed by on the way home). And if you drove the only car in town, I’d think you’d want to show it off and honk and wave to everyone in passing—"ah-wooooo-ga!"—not be known as the fast and fearless littering roadster).

But when I’m done pondering this and look past the mound of cigarette butts, I see nature(remarkably) in our midst. It takes a moment to register, but those clumps of gray fuzz mean we’re standing below an owls dining room. Below—that means there’s something above—and only then do I look up and notice the great old (and half-dead) tree with no leaves to shade with yet this spring. A relic no-doubt overlooked by those that tidy up nature for us and make sure all those dead trees are removed post-haste (afterall, this thing could fall on your car, or several; though it will most likely come down in a storm, when no one’s likely to be parked at the far end of this big lot).

But I’m glad it’s been overlooked for now (they must not have been looking down closely enough to notice it); and I can picture the owl with a midnight snack, and almost hear it as clearly as the redwing blackbirds are calling right now—telling me it’s spring, and that at night there are also frogs to be heard in the marshy area back there. Maybe I’ll see if A's doctor has night time appointments…

-Dan

No teeth yet... 

A likes to say "ahhhhhh" 

C's preschool was on vacation last week, so we were thankful for the truly excellent weather that let us spend much of the week outside. One of his classmates invited us to a cookout on Wednesday, and we walked over to check it out. (We make a effort to attend all the parties/ gatherings that his friends invite us to because we theorize that spending more time with kids in different social situations will help him make friends.) The host family has four kids, and their yard included paved space for bikes/ scooters, an enormous trampoline, a fancy swingset, etc. Several of C's friends were there with their parents. We were there for an hour or two, and C spoke to probably two people (if you include the time he told Max to get off his bike because C wanted to ride it). But we realized that we weren't really the best models of social behavior, because neither Dan nor I could come up with anything to talk to the other parents about, either. Small talk is apparently not our thing, and I was truly at a loss. After a completely inane conversation with Bella's mom (How old is your son? He's going to be really running soon! You have your hands full, don't you?), I wondered what we were trying to do- we clearly are not able to connect with these folks at anything other than a superficial level, so why do I expect C to? I suppose that we want him to be better at it than we are....

We hosted our third annual clothing swap on Saturday! This time, since we had it later in the year and the weather cooperated, we were able to have everything outside, which was decidedly more pleasant than having dozens of people crammed into our house. There was a lower turnout than usual, possibly because everyone was enjoying the weather elsewhere, but we still had a good time and encouraged people to rid their closets of many many unused clothes. (And I grabbed a few torn or stained pieces to use as fabric for the quilt I'm going to make someday....)

And on Monday the Roomba arrived! We charged it up, set it to go in the living room- and A burst into tears. A hates the Roomba with a passion. The rest of us, though, think it's pretty cool, though C is the only one who's been able to watch it in action for any period of time. Our house isn't very roomba-friendly- it has trouble climbing onto our very-thick area rug in the living room, and our radiators are at exactly the right height for it to get stuck under- but once we have a chance to play with it a little bit, I think it's going to work well. (It crawled under a table in C's room that hasn't been cleaned under in perhaps 2 years, so if nothing else it's removing major dust sources.)

I'll have C take a picture of it soon!