Some Days
Some days, you want to say loudly, so everyone who saw/heard what your son just did/said can hear, "I don't know WHO this boy belongs to! I'm just the babysitter. WHEN is this kid's DAD going to come pick him up?"
Like today as I was teaching Readers Theater. I explained all the cool new things we were going to do with this next reading of our Vachel Lindsay poem, including the counterpoint, which will go like this. . . . . *explain cool counterpoint* . . . . but first I want to go through it without the new counterpoint. Just so we can learn our new parts and get the rythm down. Ok? We're not going to do the counterpoint. Got it? Ok. Here we go, just a read through without the counterpoint. One two three GO!
*Many students reading the poem*
*Max reading the poem with the counterpoint*
*Many students slowing down or stopping, staring at Max, to -- as subtley as possible -- let him know he'd screwed the proverbial pooch on this particular reading*
*Max continuing to read with the counterpoint -- with great conviction and expression, really a model for the rest of the class -- aside from the whole part where he zoned in on the cool part and forgot everything I said after that*
As before, I've got to hand it to him. He doesn't daydream halfway. He daydreams with such singleminded absentmindedness as to be a serious frontrunner in this year's Nobel Prize For Vacuity and Selective Focus.
But then sometimes, on the very same day, he'll assure you in some way that he WAS listening. And on some of those days he's show you that he was really listening TO THE THINGS THAT MATTERED. Aside from the assurance that he's pretty bright after all, and that your time spent parenting would NOT have been better spent on competitive cup-stacking -- he shows his perfect love for you in those moments. Because in those moments you realize that whenever it was you said to him "Listen. . . . this matters. . . .", he did.
Like tonight as I drove him home from piano theory class. I'd just read an article about how cash is becoming blase/outdated, or so VISA would have you think, by the TV commercial where a cash-using coffee buyer inconveniences everyone around him by slowing up the line, being dorky and old-fashioned. Getting ready to launch into a tirade/lecture on the evils of credit, I asked if he'd seen the commercial. He said. . .
"No. But I saw one where they were saying we should use this credit card because it adjusts to your budget. I was all 'If you're using a credit card -- you don't HAVE a budget!'".
*sniff*
*putting away lecture/tirade for use with Ben and Milo in a few years*
*feeling silly for being more ashamed than amused at the counterpoint incident, and committing to keep the big picture in mind especially where the 3 most important little people in my life are concerned*
It's going down to 30 degrees tonight, and I have every reason to believe it will do so tomorrow night and the next night. This would normally be of sub-microscopic concern to me, since we have pellets for our stove and 37 blankets on our bed. But this weekend, I'm camping.
It's a Boy Scout Outdoor Leaders Skills class. I am very comitted to my Lightning Patrol scouts, but have still been desperately seeking a rationale to postpone this volunteer training. Because, you know, THIRTY DEGREES PEOPLE! The reason I cannot flake on this, though, is that those very boys I am so committed to? They're supposed to camp out TWO WEEKS FROM NOW! Yes, when it's likely to be even colder. Our earlier camp trip -- the boys' very first one as real Boy Scouts overnight in a tent of their own with campfires and fun foods and hikes and adventures -- was cancelled due to really really nasty bad weather. Then it was postponed week after week after week because being a Mormon REALLY fills up a family's (not our family, we're not Mormon enough to be that busy) calendar. Even in November. So, as long as there is no wet weather (fluffy snow would be fine, just not muddy snow), we are going camping in sub-freezing temperatures the very day after Thanksgiving. And anything I learn this weekend camping in sub-freezing temperatures is likely to be invaluable when we all do it again in two weeks. So camping I go.
Think happy anti-frostbitten-infected-gangrenous-amputated-limb thoughts and send them generally Pennsylvania'ward?
And as Dy says, kiss those babies :)
Like today as I was teaching Readers Theater. I explained all the cool new things we were going to do with this next reading of our Vachel Lindsay poem, including the counterpoint, which will go like this. . . . . *explain cool counterpoint* . . . . but first I want to go through it without the new counterpoint. Just so we can learn our new parts and get the rythm down. Ok? We're not going to do the counterpoint. Got it? Ok. Here we go, just a read through without the counterpoint. One two three GO!
*Many students reading the poem*
*Max reading the poem with the counterpoint*
*Many students slowing down or stopping, staring at Max, to -- as subtley as possible -- let him know he'd screwed the proverbial pooch on this particular reading*
*Max continuing to read with the counterpoint -- with great conviction and expression, really a model for the rest of the class -- aside from the whole part where he zoned in on the cool part and forgot everything I said after that*
As before, I've got to hand it to him. He doesn't daydream halfway. He daydreams with such singleminded absentmindedness as to be a serious frontrunner in this year's Nobel Prize For Vacuity and Selective Focus.
But then sometimes, on the very same day, he'll assure you in some way that he WAS listening. And on some of those days he's show you that he was really listening TO THE THINGS THAT MATTERED. Aside from the assurance that he's pretty bright after all, and that your time spent parenting would NOT have been better spent on competitive cup-stacking -- he shows his perfect love for you in those moments. Because in those moments you realize that whenever it was you said to him "Listen. . . . this matters. . . .", he did.
Like tonight as I drove him home from piano theory class. I'd just read an article about how cash is becoming blase/outdated, or so VISA would have you think, by the TV commercial where a cash-using coffee buyer inconveniences everyone around him by slowing up the line, being dorky and old-fashioned. Getting ready to launch into a tirade/lecture on the evils of credit, I asked if he'd seen the commercial. He said. . .
"No. But I saw one where they were saying we should use this credit card because it adjusts to your budget. I was all 'If you're using a credit card -- you don't HAVE a budget!'".
*sniff*
*putting away lecture/tirade for use with Ben and Milo in a few years*
*feeling silly for being more ashamed than amused at the counterpoint incident, and committing to keep the big picture in mind especially where the 3 most important little people in my life are concerned*
It's going down to 30 degrees tonight, and I have every reason to believe it will do so tomorrow night and the next night. This would normally be of sub-microscopic concern to me, since we have pellets for our stove and 37 blankets on our bed. But this weekend, I'm camping.
It's a Boy Scout Outdoor Leaders Skills class. I am very comitted to my Lightning Patrol scouts, but have still been desperately seeking a rationale to postpone this volunteer training. Because, you know, THIRTY DEGREES PEOPLE! The reason I cannot flake on this, though, is that those very boys I am so committed to? They're supposed to camp out TWO WEEKS FROM NOW! Yes, when it's likely to be even colder. Our earlier camp trip -- the boys' very first one as real Boy Scouts overnight in a tent of their own with campfires and fun foods and hikes and adventures -- was cancelled due to really really nasty bad weather. Then it was postponed week after week after week because being a Mormon REALLY fills up a family's (not our family, we're not Mormon enough to be that busy) calendar. Even in November. So, as long as there is no wet weather (fluffy snow would be fine, just not muddy snow), we are going camping in sub-freezing temperatures the very day after Thanksgiving. And anything I learn this weekend camping in sub-freezing temperatures is likely to be invaluable when we all do it again in two weeks. So camping I go.
Think happy anti-frostbitten-infected-gangrenous-amputated-limb thoughts and send them generally Pennsylvania'ward?
And as Dy says, kiss those babies :)
posted by Chris at
7:22 PM
2 Comments:
You want to talk to someone crazy, talk to Justin. He's going camoing tonight her in VT, for fun! The low tonight is 29. And he and his friend thik that this is fun. They were reminicing the other night about the "perfect" camping they did last winter where it snowed like 6+inches in the night. CRAZY! I was home under my down conforter nice and toasty. So if you want to ask for some advice feel free to email or call. He'd love to talk winter camping.
Been there, done that. Many times. The key to the whole thing is...be dry when you go to bed. Dry socks, dry tighty whiteys. Use a sleeping bag (or combination thereof) that gives enough insulation to stay comfortable and a foam pad/air mattress that keeps your butt from bumping on the ground. Then just have fun.
(p.s. personal record for coldest night spent in a tent: -32F)
Post a Comment
<< Home