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!"

21-Aug-08 - Piggybank Books

Look!
Look, look, look!
See Liam read.
See Liam read his Dick and Jane book.
Happy Liam!
Thank you, Grape!
Thank you for our Dick and Jane book!

Oh, look.
See the piggy banks!
Funny little piggy banks.
Liam has a blue piggy bank.
Parker has a pink piggy bank.
Do they have coins?
Yes! They do have coins!

Oh, oh, oh!
We can go to the store.
See us go to the store.
See us go to the store to get a new book.

Look, Liam!
Here is a new Dick and Jane book.
Sally has a car.
See Sally go.
See Spot and Puff go!
See Jane and Dick go!
Go, go, go!
Liam has a piggy bank.
Liam can get a new book.

Oh, see!
Parker has a Biscuit book.
Get the ball, Biscuit!
See Biscuit get his ball.
No, no, no!
Oh, Biscuit!
See Biscuit in the mud!
Silly Biscuit!
Parker has a piggy bank.
Parker can get a book too.

Come, Liam.
Come, come.
See Liam hold his coins.
See Liam get his book.
Go, Liam! Go, go, go!
Go read the new book!

Come, Parker.
Come, come.
See Parker hold his coins.
See Parker get his book.
Here, Parker!
Here is the new book!

Look!
See the piggy banks.
See the blue piggy bank.
See the pink piggy bank.
Do they have coins?
They have little coins.
We can not get a new book now.

Liam likes his Dick and Jane book.
Liam likes to read fast, fast, fast!

13-Aug-08 - Reading

Parker has figured out that Liam can read, and this means that Liam can read to him. It started the other day when I suggested that Liam read a story to Parker that we had read together the night before. So this morning Parker brings a book to Liam and asks, "Can you wead a Parker?" Liam, full of power, stated curtly, "Not yet!"

This produced instant disintegration. "He won't let me!" Parker comes crying to me. So first we had a chat about the way we phrase things. "No thank you, not yet," magically produces acceptance from Parker, while something terse spoken from Liam's high horse squashes Parker's feelings every time. Then I explained to Parker that Liam might need time to look the book over first, because he has never read it by himself. So the boys went to separate chairs with separate books. After a minute or two, Liam announced, "Ok, I can! Parker, do you want to come here so I can read to you?" "Ok!" says an eager Parker. And Liam read him the book. It was an existential moment for a parent!

This was I Love You When, a Gap publication that Babcia picked up with some clothes for them once. It was a toddler favorite, but we have not looked at it in months. Liam only bogged down over a couple of words, and I was able to supply help from the next room, where I was working on the computer. But after a few pages, the boys ran into a different kind of trouble. Parker wanted to talk about the book, and Liam found this frustrating.

"Daddy," Liam complained as Damian walked through to fill his water bottle, "he's talking and he can't hear me, and I want him to hear what I'm saying!" I pointed out that I have the same problem with Liam himself, but this was sort of lost on him. Damian suggested that perhaps Liam could let Parker talk about the item that interested him and then keep reading when Parker was done, but Liam was not keen on this.

"Parker," he said when Damian had left again, "you have to be quiet or I'm not going to read to you." More comments from Parker. "Ok, Parker, then I'm just not going to read until you can be quiet." More talking. More uber frustration from Liam: "Parker, do you want me to read the words to you?" "No," says Parker.

Next I hear silence from Liam and some frustrated grunts and "Give me space!" from Parker. So Parker was told that if he needs space he has to move to the other chair. He did, with the book. He continued his monologue about the pictures, and Liam was left sucking his lovey despondently in the original chair.

Well, Liam, welcome to the joys of older-brothering a toddler.