7-Oct-09 - School Days... Wonderful Golden Rule (over Egypt) Days

Meet Zapapapa Xyclopedia. He is 5.5 years old (although if you ask him, he'll tell you he's 79), and he is Pharaoh over all Egypt. He sits on his throne and waits, with perfect Pharaoh-ish petulance, for somebody to walk by so he can rule them. "Out of my Egypt," he clips to his brother, pointing an incriminating finger.

Meet Zapapapa's brother, Je Suis Heureux. At the tender age of 3.5 (although I think he would say 50), he is Pharaoh over Second Egypt, which spans the other half of the living room. But that was yesterday. Today, he is Zapapapa's dog, and he has constructed for himself an elaborate dog house which spans the entire geographical area that was once Second Egypt.

School has broadened these boys' horizons incredibly. Studies of Ancient Egypt have perhaps been the most inspirational, engendering everything from horses and chariots and Ancient Egyptian villas built out of Lego duplos, to their first-ever dress-up project, complete with the intense marker session required to make their cardboard "collars" in order to authenticate the Egyptian garb.

We are using Core K and level 2 language arts from Sonlight for Liam, supplemented with some Miquon math, Prima Latina (an elementary Latin curriculum, which I like partly for the helpful way it approaches English grammar), and handwriting. Parker, who gets in on the history, Bible, read-alouds, and handwriting (his favorite subject) as much as he wants, also has his own special subject: slowly learning to read with the book Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons.

So far, we love it. We did have to make our first modifications to the core when we found a book that was too intense for Liam: The Apple and the Arrow, the legend of William Tell. I have been expecting this. I've already culled out a couple of his readers. The fact that he is reading at a 2nd grade level does not guarantee an emotional readiness for such subjects as the ruins at Pompeii, especially the way it is portrayed in Pompeii: Buried Alive!

But that's fine. We'll come back to those when it is just the right time, and meanwhile these boys are growing by leaps and bounds. Oh, excuse me, I'm late. Time to go read about Viking longships.

10-Jul-09 - Self-sufficient Neediness

If Parker wakes up in the night, he likes to move into our bedroom and sleep "next to Daddy." There is an extra comforter on the floor on Damian's side of the bed, and we bring his pillow and things for him to bed down there. He has been doing this since last September, when his world got turned upside down by seeing his Gramma Bug get carted off to the hospital in an ambulance.

We figured out what that "orange" business was, by the way. At night the shades do not block out the light from the street lamp, which casts an orange glow on the wall of their bedroom. He would talk about the "numbers" that "came out," and that's when I figured out that he meant the shadows made by the bars of Liam's daybed. He was also unnerved by the light at the top of the stairs, which he was afraid would "talk to" him. A couple of nights here without us, while Babcia stayed with them and we helped my mom, was enough to spark this fear of lights that came on and off, in a manner beyond his control, and made funny shadows everywhere.

He was already in a Daddy phase before the whole hospital incident. The week before, when we were on vacation in Gatlinburg, I could not so much as hand Parker his water without getting fussed at. "I want Daddy to do it!!!" After the event, Daddy became his security blanket. Every moment of the day: "Where is Daddy?" Momo we have always with us, but she doesn't seem to have the answers we need, and she is obviously no good at preventing disaster. Daddy is a rock, and we are certain that if we could just always have him two inches away, none of these unpleasant things would touch us.

Long after he has outgrown the original insecurity, Park has been enjoying the privilege of sleeping next to Daddy. But the manner in which this is executed has changed over the months and tells much about his budding maturity. In the initial phase, he used to scream for Daddy in the night, and ask, "Can you sleep next to me?" No, but you can sleep next to me, was the compromise; and pillows and comforter, lovey and animals were moved.

Gradually, terror subsided, but he would frequently fuss and cry, tossing and rolling until someone heard him and correctly interpreted that he needed to pee but was too asleep to know what to do about it. (That was back when he did not do a very practiced job of getting his shorts off by himself during the daytime, let alone in the sleepiness of the night.) By then it was an established principle that if he woke in the night, he got rewarded for his pains by getting to sleep next to Daddy.

He would go through periods when he would sleep through the night without waking. Then he began to get up and run by himself to D's side. The little face would peer into the pillow and whisper, "Daddy, can I sleep with you?" D would get up, take him to pee, move all his essentials, and tuck him in, with Parker radiating contentment. Sometimes I wake up in the morning and find D and P, one high in the bed and one low on the floor, in the exact same sleeping position, as alike as two peas.

One night recently, Parker arrived with pillow in hand and flopped down wordlessly in the usual place. D had to force him up for the bathroom trip, and he was asleep again before the accoutrements were tucked around him.

Last night, D and I woke to find Park turning on the closet light and then closing the door most of the way, which D always does to give a less overwhelming illumination in the bathroom. Parker peed and then came and lay down on his comforter. He graciously accepted when Daddy offered to bring his pillow, etc.

D found the PJ shorts in Parker's bed, where he had taken them off himself preparatory to using our bathroom!

26-Jan-09 - The Orchestra

This is a story dictated by Liam (5yrs old), after his first trip to the Greenville Symphony Orchestra. He had been begging to "see an orchestra," and I could tell by the way that he was asking what it was and how you played it that he thought it was one instrument that required about 100 people to operate. A few videos on YouTube piqued his interest but also frustrated him with their lack of quality visual explanation. These boys are good about sitting still in church, so in honor of their January/February birthdays, we decided to take them to see the real thing.

The Orchestra

Yesterday I went to see an orchestra. I saw lots of instruments and people. They turned the lights off when they were ready to play, but they left the lights on on the stage so we could see the players better. When they were first about to start, there was a speaker talking. Then the conductor came out and talked into the microphone. Then he turned around and conducted the orchestra.

The music did not sound like I wanted it to. I wanted it to sound like Vivaldi. I like Vivaldi's ["Four Seasons"] tune better. I was fine with this music, but I don't really want to hear it again. I liked the timpani best, and the conductor. The timpani is lots of different drums that make different sounds. The conductor moved his hands to tell the players how to play, and it looked a little bit like dancing. I wish there had been guitars.

I had to go upstairs to get to my seat because we sat in the balcony. The players were far away, so I was not as close as I wanted to be, but I could see the whole orchestra. After the concert, we went to a restaurant to eat yummy pizza for dinner.

The End

I tried to get Liam to describe for me why he liked Vivaldi better than this selection of overtures written for various Shakespeare productions. Granted, I like Vivaldi better. It is ordered and peaceful, even in its intensity. Tchaikovsky and Prokofiev, like the Shakespearean themes they express, are boisterous, passionate, comparatively chaotic. I wanted to see if Liam would express this, so I probed a bit along the emotional line.

"How does Vivaldi's Four Seasons make you feel when you listen to it?" I asked. "Does it make you feel happy?"

"It makes me feel like I like it," he says.

"Well, how did this music make you feel?"

"It made me feel like I wanted to hear Vivaldi."

That's my engineer.

25-Nov-08

This morning, Parker took a simple Lego structure Liam had built and spontaneously copied it, substituting red for Liam's light blue. (Incidentally, it is a toss-up whether his favorite color is red or green. I think it depends on the particular item and on his mood.) It is the first time he has ever done that, and the most mental and physical dexterity I have ever seen from him in Lego play. Usually he conceives something he wants and asks Liam or me to build it for him.

24-Sep-08 - Seeing Orange

Parker just said the strangest thing. He had been jumping on the rebounder, and he came into the dining room and stared up at the chandelier (it was off). With an introspective frown, he said to the air in general, "I don't want the orange to come out." He seemed genuinely disturbed, so I probed.

"What orange?"
"The orange up in the sky."
"Where does the orange come out, Parker?"
"Up in the sky." [By this he generally means anywhere in the air above his own height.]
"When does the orange come out?"
"When I get on the truck," he said. We just got the wooden ride-on truck out of the closet yesterday.

I asked if it "comes out" when he jumps on the rebounder. "No," he says, "when I get on the truck." Are they just in the dining room? "Yes. And also in the living room." I asked if it was like little orange lights and he gave me dubious assent.

The only thing I can think of is seeing stars, like maybe he got dizzy on the rebounder. The boys spent a lot of time today spinning in the living room until they fell down. Maybe he kept getting back on his truck after that and associates the sensation with his truck.

It was just so strange. It was one of those moments when you realize there is a whole world inside that little person. That world could be entirely different from anything you have ever known, and you might never realize it. The little guy would have no way of knowing, let alone communicating about it.

Well, anyway, I'll let you know if I see any orange in the air around here.

28-Aug-08 - Math Diary

We are the fortunate inheritors of the Miquon math materials that my mother used in her tutoring days. I am excited about Miquon because it is a very hands-on, learn-by-exploration approach to math. (I love it when free school supplies turn out to be what you would probably have chosen yourself, after researching and comparing all the options!) Not only that, but it provides such extensive teaching that it covers in 3rd grade what modern schools are covering in 5th and 6th grades. We had already had a play session or two with the Cuisenaire rods, during which time Liam fell in love with the rod track/ruler. But it has been several weeks, if not months, since we picked them up.

Liam is very interested in math and seems to need more structured school/play in general these days. So the other day, while going through all my possible preschooling resources, I picked up the "diary" that came with the materials. I found it so helpful and inspiring that today, for fun, I began to do with Liam some of the relevant activities noted in the diary. Parker, of course, tagged along for the ride.

I was so astonished by what I saw in our "math time" that I decided to keep my own diary.

Of course, Liam is only 4.5, and the materials are intended to start in first grade. But there is no reason we can't start exploring. The whole point of Miquon is that the kids decide what they are ready for and when, and there is no pressure to perform to a certain standard.

26-Aug-08 - All Grown Up

Well, not really. But I feel like I don't have a baby anymore. Last Thursday, he weaned himself. Just like that.

He has not really wanted mo-juice for a while, but when he goes to bed, he feels like he has rights he has to exercise and maintain. So he would go through the motions: "Can I have mo-juice?" "Yes," I would sigh, knowing that this is going to end shortly and preferring to let him be the one to terminate it.

But Thursday, after literally two seconds, he said, "Switch sides!" Then after two more seconds he pulled away and looked at me like, "Well, so now what?" So now we just read before we go to bed and he doesn't even ask for m-j anymore. Except in the occasional offhand reference; as in, "Can I pee, and brush teeth, and have a story, and have mo-juice and go to bed?" But when it comes down to actualities, the m-j never gets factored in.

Oh, and the other night he asked to not have a diaper at night. Since he has been keeping them consistently dry, I said sure. He stayed beautifully dry for three or four nights. Then last night he wet the bed. Hardly surprising, really, considering that Liam did not even day train until he was older than Parker is now, and it took Liam a full year before we began to try to motivate him to night train. And we're talking eleven or twelve straight hours without waking up.

Fortunately, Parker is young enough that it does not hurt his feelings (or his ego) to go back to diapers. When I put one on him tonight, he did not even comment. It does not bother me for him to keep wearing them. We still have a bunch left, so we may as well use them... and he has plenty of time to finish growing up!

*****

The boys love to play racquetball. Not being allowed any balls in the house, they have to pretend with plain old air and the make-do racquets of the day (lately they have chosen the little wooden apple trees from their Christmas train set). They reach into their ottoman "basket" and pull out an air "ball," then swing the little "racquet" at it and yell "bigGANG," which Liam says is the sound the ball makes when it bounces off the wall.

The other day I heard Liam saying over and over, "I'm warming!" He has yet to notice that when other sportsmen say it they always include that strange, useless little preposition: warming up.

"I'm warming!" Liam states. Parker replies, "I'm hotting... It's ready!" You can see the wheels turning as Liam tries to figure out what to do with this. "Well," he says to Parker, "right now we're just starting, so we're just warming. In the middle of the game you can say that."

26-Aug-08 - 15 Seconds at the Lunch Table

Momo spills a tall cup of purple fruit smoothie all over the table. She holds up her thick canvas apron, which she is thankfully still wearing, to catch what is dripping straight into her lap.

Daddy stares, catatonic.

"Help me!" Momo squeals!

Daddy leaps into action and then realizes he does not know what he should be doing.

"Towels!" suggests Momo.

"Where?" wonders bewildered Daddy.

"Paper towels!" Momo concedes.

Momo begins schlooping shake across the table and back into her cup with her hand.

Daddy reappears with the roll of paper towels and hands some to Momo.

Liam gags on his toast and spits it up onto his plate.

Momo begins to smear purple goop across the table with the paper towels, and Daddy moves around the table to Liam.

Parker pipes up, "I need to poop!"