Poseidon the Flying Giraffe

Just when I thought we were full up on the pet quota:

T made this giant flying giraffe in her Saturday enrichment class "Make Your Own Pet."

She's very proud of him--and she should be! He's magnificent! He has a macrame collar and a shrinky dink name plate.

Don't go round tonight

There are so many things I dislike about living where we do. Our view, though, our view is fabulous!

Singular and Plural

While washing hands in the bathroom today:

R: "I have an ear whack. Can you get it out?"

Me: (looking in his ear) "I don't see anything, Buddy. I think you're ok."

R: "C said I have ear whacks."

Me: "Oh. Yeah, you have some wax in there. We can leave it. It's fine."

Those little glimpses of a child's worldview delight me to no end!

Doh! I forgot to send the kids to school

When I was pregnant with T, I used to dream (like, dream, while I was sleeping,) about my (future) life with two kids. It was never good. I dreamed that I left one of them places. Horrible places. Like on the top of my car, as if one of them were a forgotten cup of coffee. Once I dreamed that I left the baby on a city bus (I didn't even ride the bus.)

Once at the zoo I misread my watch and thought I'd forgotten to pick up the girls from a class. I hadn't, but the possibility was plausible. I was right on time, early even, but for several panicked moments I thought I was about an hour late.

I regularly forget stuff at the grocery--everyone does that. I've spaced a couple of social engagements--I've also been stood up. I've occasionally left the house without my shoes or in my slippers--but not like my friend who used to do it all the time!

I'm generally pretty good with details.

Today I forgot my atm pin. I've had the same pin for years; long enough that the card is about to expire. I use it a couple of times per month. I've typed in the pin probably 50 times.

There I was, standing at the cash machine, needing to get cash for today's incidentals (and paying C's tutor,) and all I could come up with was the combination for my padlock (it's not even similar.)

I wasn't particularly preoccupied--no more so than usual. I wasn't in a hurry. I wasn't Hungry, Angry, Lonely or Tired (the checklist I go through when I don't know why things aren't "right" with me or one of the kids.) For some reason, I just couldn't pull the numbers out of my brain. It was really unsettling.

So, I made plan B (skip the coffeeshop and make alternate arrangements with the tutor,) got on the highway, cranked up some music and hoped for the best.

As soon as I was able to forget about it, it came to me. I hit a different atm on the other side of town, and the crisis was averted.

I'm still unsettled. Like something huge is going to dawn on me at any moment.

Chemistry Lab

We have converted a corner of our laundry room into a chemistry lab. It's actually pretty awesome. Earlier this week T did her lab work down there--Chapter 6: Mixtures, from Real Science 4 Kids (the "4" gets on my last nerve. In spite the dumbed down title, it's actually a good book!)

Today C spent several hours in the lab, concocting and separating her own mixture. She did an awesome job--her filtrate weighed almost spot on, and her evaporated sucrose was ridiculously close.

Both girls have had gotten a huge kick out of using real glassware. C used an alcohol burner today. She's looking forward to working with glass tubing to make her own distillation apparatus next week.

R likes the basement, too. On the other side of the wall with the window is a rug and a couple of couches. When he gets tired of Littlest Petshop, I get out the playdough toys. The "special" basement toys are a lifesaver--since he doesn't get to play with them all the time, when he does get the opportunity he really engages.

Wonder Boy

The boy who sets things on fire is still a force to be reckoned with.

Fortunately, these days he's more intellectual and little less Jack-Jack.

The back seat driving, though...yikes. I play along and answer his questions to a point (beyond that point I say "let's listen to music!" and I turn it UP!) He knows road signs; the easy ones like "STOP," as well as the more nuanced signs like the yellow diamond with the curving arrow. This week I also explained the neighborhood watch sign that's posted at the entrance to the subdivision where C's chemistry tutor lives. It was one of these. He thought it looked like a dinosaur, and he wondered if dinosaurs might try to cross the road there & maybe they needed a sign to say they aren't allowed to cross. He was relating it to this sign, the one that denotes a deer crossing in other locations. That was a tricky explanation, but I think I did ok (he's still working on the concept of extinction, though he seems to be v. clear on "robbers." --not sure what to make of that.)

So, the boy likes to know what's going on in the world, and he's realized that decoding numbers and letters will provide valuable clues. I knew this about him. It's not new information.

What is new is how much of the code he's managed to crack. We were recently reading a new bedtime story, and when we got to the page where it said "STOP!" he pointed at the word and said "stop" before I could read it. It wasn't on a red background. It wasn't in the context of traffic. The font was different. He'd never heard that story before. He recognized and knew the meaning of that combination of letters.

It's good to get the concrete evidence. Something I can point to and say "See!" The boy exhausts (and exhilarates) me.

Look Out, Tiger Mom!

Introducing a lesser known player in the mommy wars...Polar Bear Mom!

My favorite Polar Bear Mom rule:

4. Master the art of getting dirty

My daughter came inside once with dirty hands from playing in the garden for 30 minutes. My wife immediately sent her back outside for two more hours until she was dirty from head to toe. Polar bear moms know the first 30 minutes of playing in the dirt is easy, but it takes uncounted hours to master the art of getting dirty.