Adventures in parenting, vol. 8

His teacher says he's brilliant.

The numbers:  399 out of a possible 410 on the Kindergarten Skills Test (a measure of all their learning goals for the year).  He scored "poorest" on the "penny, nickel, dime, quarter" section of the test.

97th percentile.  (dang, boy, shoot for the 99th!)

On some test with an acronym title (having to do with reading skills), he overshot the expected marks by 400-500%.

She wants to get him in a gifted program, though the powers that be are understandably leery of putting a five year old (soon to be six!) in there.  In the meantime, looks like she'll be sending him/ assigning him a little extra work.

He apparently is awfully shy about getting up in front of the class.

One might say I'm proud of the boy.  We're going to tell him that his teacher says he is cooperative and does well with his friends.  Not a word about the so-called "brilliance."  I doubt he'd care anyway.

"How's the semester going?"

people ask me that question, and honestly, I don't know what to tell them.  I guess it's okay...it just seems like I'm watching it from far away instead of living it.  Strange phenomenon.

In which Piers wonders how he landed in a political briar patch

Interesting days, politically.  And I mean in the department.  There is a contentious job search situation, and I am finding myself stuck between a good buddy and the acting chair of the department.  They are apparently not prone to see eye-to-eye.  I'm trying to go to bat for him, because it has to be done and it looks like I'm the only one that will do it.  Don't think, however, that I'm not unaware that this is my tenure year.  It is taking all my rhetorical skill to phrase things "carefully."

Meanwhile, in the meeting I attended this afternoon, I was reminded that good intentions are far from the same thing as good policy or even good procedure.  One of our more quixotic colleagues has a gigantic plan for tuition and state budget activism, including hearings and reports and press releases, etc.  The problem is, he brings it to the faculty senate in half-baked form, then the questions start raining down . . . and the measure, predictably, goes down--only to be referred to committee, where it should have gone in the first place.   The lesson:  don't half-ass a senate proposal.

I find myself grouchy at all this, lacking patience, wanting to shake some of these people and say, "look at yourself, look at where you are!  GET A GRIP!"  Either that, or go live in a cave and say "LEMME LONE"

Cold, tired, and sore

All I did today was pile up in the bed, on the chair, back in the bed... Hard to determine whether the feeling like bunk part is now because of the bug, or because until just a minute ago I had eaten one banana and four saltines. We'll hope for better results tomorrow.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

crumbles

Above:  video from this weekend's soccer game.  Excuse the poor quality of the camerawork; despite my inteptitude, however, you can see that The Kindergartner kinda got the hang of this soccer thing this weekend.  You will note with some amusement that the coaches spend a lot of time positioning the kids before the throw in.  The action really starts at about .55.

**

We spent almost all day yesterday out & about in one form or another.  After the morning soccer zoo game, I took my bike up to Mayfield, KY to go on a 30-mile bike ride with a buddy from work.  Beautiful weather, weak legs.  Great time!

**

We got to go to a party last night that included an outdoor showing of a Scooby-Doo movie.  Hey, the food was really good, and if the kids want Scooby-Doo, let them watch that while we adults watch the evening football contests.

**

Rough week, especially at work.

thou mak'st my cheek blanch--

--with rage, not fear.  what follows is an email from one of my students in my upper level Shakespeare class (who has already complained about the work):

 HI. I was wondering if I could possibly do one of my papers a little different. I'm currently reading young adult literature to add to a class library and I think some of it could really tie in to Shakespeare. Could I possibly do a paper on bridging that gap and how I might could use it in the classroom? It would be much more applicable to me than researching genre three times. I've already had all my praxis and I think out of 3 tests there were 2 questions on genre.

Let's set aside the wrong part of speech at the end of that first sentence.   This would be fine . . . IF I GAVE A FLYING FARK ABOUT THE FARKING PRAXIS. HULK SMASH

I'm trying to teach you a rigorous Shakespeare class, not some "how to apply Shakespeare to your life" class. 

Probably not the week to ask me a question like this. 

Adventures in parenting, vol. 7

So, the story goes something like this:  there's a child in The Kindergartner's class who is developmentally behind--not disabled, just coming from a rough background, late bloomer, etc., etc.  Yesterday, The Kindergartner's "card" was "pulled" from green to yellow (i.e., a warning) because he was making fun of his less-advanced classmate.  When I got home, The Spouse showed me the note from the teacher, and told me to chat with The Kindergartner about what had happened.  I did, and his response was that he didn't want to talk about it because as he put it, "you'll be disappointed in me."  His demeanor was utterly stoic as he said this, too.  Effective, and I didn't push him on it.  Apparently, his mother had made it pretty clear just what she thought of that kind of behavior. We're keeping an eye on it, and lord help him if he does it again.

It's a fascinating episode for me because of the balance I have to ride between appropriate praise and appropriate scolding.  It's tempting to think one's child incapable of cruelty, though of course children are frequently cruel by nature. 

As with others I love, I try to operate with the same tension that my master Ben Jonson describes:

Though I confess (as every muse hath erred,
And mine not least) I have too oft preferred
Men past their terms, and praised some names too much,
But 'twas with purpose to have made them such.

It behooves us to be kind

from the blog of a woman whose intellect and wit I greatly respect:

"By this age, we have all encountered some pain and loss in our lives. It's just more visible for some of us." Yes, there are those of us who've lost parts of our character, our honesty, our respect and love for others, and our joy in living. That shows too, but it is harder to see. And there's no skimpy garment that makes it any easier.

This is why kindness is so important.  Whom do you know that isn't fighting a battle, whose life isn't caulked and patched, if below the waterline?

Vale, vale

On the yearly pilgrimage to Wise, Virginia, I found my self more somber-minded than usual--it remained that way even as I was on my way home.  The company was congenial, the keynote was on pirates, the food was good, my hosts were as gracious as ever.  My good friend JMA gave a lights-out presentation on marginal annotations in English chorographical texts.  I also got to watch him and his faculty intramural team win the soccer championship for the second year running.  Saw other friends from Chapel Hill days.  And I felt especially keenly the loss of so many people whom I have treasured.
I've been silent the past few days for precisely that reason.

This is a true statement

Piers is not the coolest of customers. 

"Neither can his mind be thought to be in tune, whose words do jar"

It is enormously difficult to deal with people for whom words just don't mean very much.  And the closer the person, the greater the difficulty.

"L" is for . . .

Adventures in parenting, vol. 6

The boy got a trophy for winning second place in his 1 mile race on Saturday.  He has a pretty good coach.

When I woke into my life

tireony.

 

Man overvalues everything
Yet, when he learns the price is pegged to his valuation,
Complains bitterly he is being ruined which, of course, he is.
So kings find it odd they should have a million subjects
Yet share in the thoughts of none, and seducers
Are sincerely puzzled at being unable to love
What they are able to possess; so, long ago,
In an open boat, I wept at giving a city,
Common warmth and touching substance, for a gift
In dealing with shadows.  If age, which is certainly
Just as wicked as youth, look any wiser,
It is only that youth is still able to believe
It will get away with anything, while age
Knows only too well that it has got away with nothing:
The child runs out to play in the garden, convinced
That the furniture will go on with its thinking lesson,
Who, fifty years later, if he plays at all,
Will first ask its kind permission to be excused.

(W. H. Auden)

Prospero to Ariel

Now, Ariel, I am that I am, your late and lonely master,
Who knows now what magic is; --the power to enchant
That comes from disillusion.  What the books can teach one
Is that most desires end up in stinking ponds,
But we have only to learn to sit still and give no orders,
To make you offer us your echo and your mirror;
We have only to believe you, then you dare not lie;
To ask for nothing, and at once from your calm eyes,
With all their lucid proof of apprehension and disorder,
All that we are not stares back at what we are.

(W. H. Auden)

Adventures in parenting, vol. 5

or, "the girlfriend question revisited."  It came to my attention that the Big Brother has chosen AB to be his girlfriend.  I'm not sure what that means, and he apparently doesn't appreciate my nosing around about it.  But there you have it, at any rate. 

I will say again, "stay away from them, boy . . . they ain't nothing but trouble."

(yes, I know that goes both ways, but bear with me)
(paging Rowlf...)

Putting them in a row

Taking on more projects at work, keeping up with the research . . . working hard to keep them all lined up . . .

Adventures in parenting, vol. 5

Allow me to submit that being an introvert is sometimes hard on the parenting front, too.

From an advice website I regularly read:

"Running a family requires you to follow a higher priority, which is to get the best behavior out of your kids regardless of whether you’re feeling exhausted, neglected or disrespected. By that logic, you should have tolerated bickering more and played solitaire less, but your son’s decision to designate you as loser of the blame game won’t fix the past.

Now, you’re stuck in a game of “you ignored me, so I’ll ignore you, no I’ll ignore you more, no I don’t even see you so I can’t ignore you.” This isn’t parenting, this is a vicious circle you don’t want.

So, when your son decides to confront you, don’t share your negative feelings, though you’ve certainly got a right to feel them. If you guilt or intimidate the kids into acting nicer, they’ll get you later.

Forget who started it or who’s the biggest jerk. It’s your job to break the log jam and move things forward, and you do that by being a good guy, which you can do at anytime, even after your kid finishes med school and becomes a shrink to figure out how to deal with dads like you."

I will add at this juncture that it is my pleasure to spend all I have--mentally, emotionally, financially--for the sake of my family.  I just make up my mind to not count the cost.

Soybeaning Day Two

Hey! It's that soybeanny time of year again!

Tractors always have a prominent place in the parade.  Check out the kid
already working on the beer gut style driving.

We're sophisticated.  Mmmm, Strawerries.

So tonight begins the 2010 Tennessee Soybean Festival.  We're going to watch the parade, which will feature VERY LOUD SIRENS from the Police and Fire Department, some marching band action, some cars/trucks sponsored by local politicians, Miss Junior Soybean sitting in the back of a convertible, Captain Skyhawk, some tractors, some horses, the Aaron's Rents truck, an AWANA "float," i.e., trailer towed by a pickup, apparently sponsored by First Baptist Martin (no, the boy is not riding in the float . . . we don't want to mess with it), and lots of cheap candy being tossed to greedy elementary age kids.  The best part of that last thing:  they tend to throw out a lot of Banana Laffy Taffy!

The parades are a lot of fun, and I'll be honest:  it's kinda fun to mock the rednecks who bring up the rear of the parade on their 4-wheelers.  They think they're being impressive.  Oh how wrong they are.

Maybe we'll get a good picture or two for an after-action report.

UPDATE:  Not one crummy piece of Banana Laffy Taffy.  I'm disappointed.

Two Red

Little Red and Fountain

Little Red Falling Asleep While I Mow Grass

I have a real soft spot for this little boy.  Insanely proud of the Big Brother, but this one just knows how to tug at my heart.  By the way, he habitually does this:  wants to "help" me mow the grass, then promptly falls asleep after about 15 minutes of riding.  While the mower is going, mind you.

Grab your life vest

The Pew Center on the States wrote in The Trillion Dollar Gap (February 2010), “A $1 trillion gap exists between the $3.35 trillion in pension, health care and other retirement benefits states have promised their current and retired workers as of fiscal year 2008 and the $2.35 trillion they have on hand to pay for them.”

Link to article

I needn't say how this impacts me . . . a couple of years ago I was thinking that this state retirement deal was too good to be true.  And so it is.

Atropos

Alas! What boots it with uncessant care
To tend the homely slighted Shepherds trade,
And strictly meditate the thankles Muse,
Were it not better don as others use,
To sport with Amaryllis in the shade,
Or with the tangles of Neæra's hair?
Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise
(That last infirmity of Noble mind)
To scorn delights, and live laborious dayes;
But the fair Guerdon when we hope to find,
And think to burst out into sudden blaze,
Comes the blind Fury with th' abhorred shears,
And slits the thin spun life.

Milton, "Lycidas"

Be not deceived--

if I have veil'd my look, I turn the trouble of my countenance Merely upon myself. Vexed I am Of late with passions of some difference, Conceptions only proper to myself, Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviors.

spend, spend, spend

nataliedee.com

No, not talking about the feds.

I'm talking about what it feels like to go through a work day.  I love my work--I feel like I'm at my best when I have this academic teaching/research/service routine working.  I am a fairly competent teacher.  But oh my lord does it drain me.  It feels like deficit spending.

Not a complaint, just an observation.  Life demands more energy from some of us than it does from others.