Adventures in parenting, vol. 15

In the car, on the ride to MPS this morning:

Daddy, is today the last day of November?
Yes, it is, now that you mention it.
Yaaaayy!  That means soon there'll be lots of snow on the ground!
Ummmmm--
That's what happens in December, Daddy.  It's Winter.  We have to have snow.
...
...
It's funny how the books and cartoons having to do with Christmas so often feature snow . . . when most of us don't get any snow until well after Christmas, if at all. 

I didn't mean to take such a long break

...it's just that things are busy around here.

Adventures with Students, vol. 18

Below, verbatim text from an email I received this morning:

My rough draft isnt long in words yet, but what I have put on paper so far I feel is very effective. My mind is racing with ideas on how to go at this paper, which is a good thing I just gotta find ways of putting in on paper. Last night I read all the readings over, and made key notes on different connections or what have you. In other words what Im trying to tell you is IM GONE SMASH THIS PAPER! LOL I think my last paper was a disaster because I can honestly say I didnt go 110% on it like I have been all semester. I have every intention on presenting you with that paper as well, with full detail on the authority of "science." I thank you for Dr. Hill for the praise you give me on my papers but Its because of your unique style of teaching that I have gained so much knowledge in the past couple months. You my homie Dr, Hill, they need more like you big dog, look forward to taking your next course. Holla atcha in a min.

As you can see, dude isn't your usual student, but I've loved having him in my class.  And the praise isn't such a bad thing either.  I mean, as far as praise goes.

Adventures in parenting, vol. 14

Good news from MPS this week:  The Kindergartner was awarded Star Student of the Month for his class.  Aaaand, he got a certificate for "Perfect Attendance, Second Six Weeks" (sounds too much like a public school award). 

The Vulcan Baby showed a new trick last night:  he rolled right off the changing table, and fell to the floor.  Scared his mother to death, but other than squalling out his fright, he was fine.

Little Red, well . . . he's just the way he is.  His new trick is attempting to postpone bedtime by informing us that he is afraid of the "gark."

"doomed to be free"

A moment of deep thought in front of my morning class today as I confronted this statement in an essay by Chinua Achebe. I stopped and asked them what they thought about it.  How can freedom be a "doom," which usually seems like such a negative thing?

I could have told them all sorts of things, because they looked quizzically and sleepily at me without seeming to care about the question.  It was from a place closer to my heart than they know that I spoke:

"Think about all the voices asking, prodding, seducing you to do things, to believe things, to be a certain kind of person . . . and in every case, the possibility of a good choice comes with the peril of a wrong choice, and then there are those choices that you have to make where there are no good options, or choices where the outcome is so uncertain that you don't know how you'll pay.

"I'll tell you:  it doesn't get easier or simpler as you get older; more is at stake, and there are even more restrictions on your options--but you still have to confront the burden of your own freedom.

Paging Mr. Donne and his Third Satire.

Adventures in parenting, vol. 13

The White Belt. 

The Kindergartner has now attended enough Tae Kwon Do "little ninjas" classes (yeah . . . can't do anything about the name, though) to qualify for his official white belt.  He is really enjoying the Monday and Wednesday night sessions, and I hope he'll stick with it.  I could have used something like this when I was his age...something to give me confidence and bodily discipline (at least as much as a six year old can have such a thing). 

He had to go to his AWANA class* at church directly after, but absolutely didn't allow me to change him back into his regular clothes.  He wasn't about to take off that belt.

Heavy Weights

The Spouse came home this afternoon awfully laden down by the pain expressed by her clients.  It has to be hard to hear all that.  She said, "it's hard to not just throw one's hands up in the air and ask, what's the point in trying?" 

I can relate to that question. 

Mr. Mom Weekend a Qualified Success

So we boys had the run of the house while The Spouse and the Vulcan Baby went to Chicago for the Hot Chocolate 15k.  Meanwhile, Little Red developed his seasonal asthma symptoms, and the wheezing made him more frantic and hyper than usual...we're going to start monitoring his food and see if there are certain dyes, etc. that also set him off.  He got me up in the middle of the night on Friday and Saturday nights to give him an Albuterol treatment.  I was in sleep debt anyway, staying up until watching movies.  I won't say that I didn't grow in crankiness yesterday.  Meanwhile, The Kindergartner did fine at his Saturday soccer game, but by the time he got up on Sunday he was complaining of a sore throat . . . and then by the time he got home from children's choir last night, he was running a fever.  'Tis Strep, naturally. 

So we made it, but two of the three of us are limping across the finish line quite sickly.  Oh well.  I'm just glad The Spouse had a good time up in Chicago.

Items of Professional Concern

a.  I've heard the terms "civic engagement" and "service learning" an awful lot this semester.  It's often phrased as an "opportunity" or "point of emphasis."  What I'm waiting for is the moment when it becomes "strongly encouraged" . . . and then a criterion for tenure and promotion . . .

b.  The second edition of this book, which I've been using in my composition class for the past few Fall semesters, is far inferior to the first edition, and I've found myself severely hampered by its tendentious selection of texts.  I'm not teaching the class effectively.  Now I have to decide if I need to dump the textbook for a different book, or try to adjust my approach to fit with the strengths the book retains.

c.  The bookstore people here on this campus have some explaining to do.  I thought their approach to buying textbooks was mandated from "above," wherever that is, but in the latest faculty senate meeting I found that the picture is more complicated (and disturbing). . . it seems that the bookstore itself is attempting to set some policy.  I like the ladies that work there, but their standing on campus especially among the faculty is pretty (and understandably) poor.

d.  Difficult students by the cart-full this term, and I'm not sure I'm responding well to their explicit demands for my attention and their implicit demands on my patience. 

Adventures in parenting, vol. 12

Little Red is in love

Felis catus.

The story was related to us over the weekend:  someone stopped in front of our neighbor's house, opened the door, and tossed out a little black & white kitty.  They had seen the cat that night, but not at all that next day.  Well, fast-forward to Monday, when I received a report from The Spouse that the little kitty had appeared out from under the van, and Little Red was beside himself with joy, playing with said kitty.  The Spouse had fed the kitty, so we know what that means:  welcome, number three.  We're keeping him as an outdoor/garage kitty, figuring that almost 40 pounds of feline in the house is more than enough with the two we have.

Plus, Simon hates interlopers.

Little Red has made the choice for us:  he loves the little cat so very much--laughs, calls him "my best friend," and "sweet little kitty."

We are teaching him to be gentle with the little furball.

Kindness

"put on your bravest face"

I really try to treat everyone with kindness and understanding.  I'm not really the most patient person in the world, and I do actually have strong opinions, but I prefer to keep most of that stuff between myself and my journal.  I'll be honest, though:  recently, my capacity to keep on being kind has been severely tested.  You know how in those movies where the hero and the damsel are hanging over the edge of the cliff by a rope, the camera always gives us a tight shot on the rope as it begins to fray and part?  It's like I'm watching my own patience come undone, strand by strand.  First it's a student whose antics have gone from pitiful to annoying; then it's another student who just takes up too much of my time before class is due to start; then it's a meeting that goes twice as long as it needs to; then it's poor Vulcan Baby, who is quite miserable due to teething--and is making the rest of us miserable; then it's the cat yowling for food . . .

 . . . again, the Bilbo Baggins metaphor about butter scraped too thinly on a crust of bread . . .

 . . . but we mustn't give up, must we? 

Super Hero Squad

Piggy

The Little Ghost