Harold and the Purple Crayon

My son is very interested in books now.  He's liked books for some time, but it was hard to get him to sit still and make it through to the end of the book.  He wanted to turn back and get off on tangents and upgrade to a different book.  In short, he wasn't able to sit through a complete "story" until recently.

Now that he likes books, my husband ends every night reading to him.  Favorites (of my husband) include Dr. Seuss books.  The stories are fun to read, the illustrations are quirky and the stories always have a good moral.  My son realized soon after they started reading some of the Dr. Seuss books that his meal-time bib had the Cat in the Hat on it.

And while my son can be aggressive at times, he is quite respectful of paper books at this age and his experience at school has taught him to use his gentle hands when turning the pages.  And this is good, because board books typically don't have meaningful stories across their few pages.

I have a collection of books saved from both my and my husband's childhood that I go through from time to time to check for age appropriateness.  Recently, I was able to bring out one of my favorites, Harold and the Purple Crayon.  I didn't realize the book was over fifty years old.  Then, when I realized I was over forty years old, it made more sense.  Also, it made me feel old.

It's a charming little story about a boy who draws what he dreams and eventually realizes he wants to go home only he's not sure how to get back.  In the end he discovers the perfect way to get home, and not unlike Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, the answer was with him all along.

The Big Boy Update:  "Two hands momma."  In addition to enjoying reading books of late (see above,) my son has taken on the role of Safety Marshall for the family.  In the morning on the way to school he reminds me, often, that I need to keep "two hands" on the wheel.   On the unsafe front, he decided putting a card-lacing string around his sister's neck and pulling her around this morning was a fabulous idea...

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Dancing for Gramps.  She loves to do that baby sway and stomp thing when music is on.  Yesterday after dinner, I put on some music and she danced for Gramps.  He tried to video it, but every time he pulled out his camera she'd turn away and dance around the corner. 

Fitness Update:  Bonus six mile run with Uncle Jonathan yesterday afternoon.  Today is a day of rest.  And of eating a big breakfast.  Of late, I'm obsessed with bacon, eggs and French toads.  I  mean toast.  Not toads.  That was such a crazy typo I had to leave it in.  Anyone else getting a mental image of a French speaking toad frog?

Someone Once Said:  Freedom begins when you tell Mrs. Grundy to go fly a kite.

My Ignorance Relieves Me

On some things I pride myself on being informed.  On other things, I would much prefer to be ignorant.  There is only so much brain bandwidth and time in the day and there are just things I intentionally don't want to know about.

Let me start with the weather as this is something my opinion has changed in the past year.  In general, I don't worry too much what the weather is.  I don't stand outside in the rain if it's raining and I'm usually going from a car to a building so dressing in season-appropriate clothing is something I would do without checking the weather first.

But now I have children.  It is my responsibility to send them to school in something that is warm enough for the weather of the day.  They play outside every day (baring bad weather) so dressing them in appropriate clothing and outer wear is one of those parent responsibilities.  And that means you need to know what the temperature will be when you leave for school and what it's going to get to by the time they go outside several hours later.   Right now during the change of seasons that means I look at the hourly temperature forecast and make a decision just before dressing them.

At some point I hear they learn to dress themselves.  Won't that be a joy?

The other thing I intentionally avoid is the news.  I grew up with my parents always watching the nightly news after dinner.  They read the newspaper and they are well-informed about local and national news events.  But it always seemed like robberies, stabbings, wars, explosions and people who died.  Sure, there were special interest stories but they didn't pertain to me and I wasn't particularly interested.

I read a parenting book for our parents book club this past month that gave a statistic on news broadcasts.  A typical news broadcast is thirty-one percent commercials and fifty-eight percent violence/war/crime stories.  With figures like that (and my personal dislike for commercials) I don't mind that I'm missing the news.

Sometimes it catches me off guard though.   For example, I didn't know about the Oklahoma City bombing for six hours after it happened because I was working quietly at my home office.  Just recently with the Boston Marathon explosions, I found out via a voice mail my running buddy left me because I didn't have the television on.  I commonly find out notable people have died when I overhear other people's conversations.

But all in all, I don't particularly mind being out of touch with things like this.  There is a lot of cruelty and suffering in the world.  I think focusing on it would, for me, take it's toll.  So in that case, I think my ignorance does relieve me.  I believe I'm happier not knowing some things.

And make note, this is not a recommendation on how others should spend their time.  My husband is an avid news reader.  In general, I find out more news from him than anyone else.  He makes sure to keep me updated when something happens that he knows I should be aware of.   Thanks, Daddy.

The Big Boy Update:  Busy times.  He went to see Mimi the other day to spend the morning and when I arrived to pick him up he proudly showed me his, "Salad" he had made from weeds, grasses and ferns in the yard.  I have such fun memories of making a pretend salad from my childhood.  And about that visit.  Apparently he got tired and told Mimi, "I want to go home."  She called me and asked him to say it again and sure enough, he told me, "Mommy, I want to go home."  So off I went to get him.   This one makes us laugh a lot.  I have a specific bottle of coconut soda water I frequently drink.  He wanted to try it one day and Daddy labeled it, "Tickley Water."  Now, whenever he sees me with one of those bottles he says, "I want ticklewee water."

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Outgoing with a touch of shy.  She's usually very friendly.  For the most part she'll say hello to people and they can even pick her up and hold her.  But on occasion I see her have a little shy streak.  Last night when there were lots of new people in the street after dinner in our neighborhood she did the "hide behind mommy's legs and peek out" thing that's so cute.  But she came around shortly and played with all the new children.

Fitness Update:  Back to the gym this morning and Don had us running some circuit work.  At the end he had us do an exercise my husband had done yesterday that he had told me was very tough to get through.  Don said, "Yeah, it's a finisher."  I felt finished afterwards.

Someone Once Said:  Anyone who cannot cope with mathematics is not fully human. At best he is a tolerable subhuman who has learned to wear shoes, bathe, and not make messes in the house.

Fundraising

I don't like fundraising because I don't like asking people for money.  I just don't.  I don't want you to ask me for my money and I don't want  your money.  I suppose it's that I never wanted anyone to take care of me.  I had a need to make it on my own.  My parents made sure I had what I needed, but they encouraged me to take care of myself.  In large part, I hope I've succeeded.

I was thinking about fundraising today as I saw a presentation by a parent at our school in which she explained the history of our school, it's success, the careful and deliberate process they went through to determine what and how we could move forward to building our own, new facility and, of course, how it is something we're going to need assistance from in order to fund.

She was impressive in her knowledge and I learned a lot at the meeting.  I think I've learned something myself about donations and asking for them because I saw how I was changed personally by this entire school build project.

Sure, I was excited about a new school.  I was thinking about donating to the project, but I wasn't thinking the way I am now, which is to donate more than I would have if I'd just gotten a phone call asking for a check, because I'm excited about the project and I'm invested.

So, while I don't want to ask people for money; it appears I'm on the Fundraising committee, the Capital Campaign committee and I am personally prepared to do what I can to get people as excited about our future school as I am.  Or at least that's my plan...

The Big Boy Update:  Sent to his room.  He was roughhousing yesterday and I didn't understand why.  He was very aggressive and I couldn't get him to calm down so I decided he needed to spend some time in his room.  He was unhappy about it and knocked on his door asking to be let out.  I let him out a bit later saying he could stay out if he played calmly.  He calmly spent time on the bridge playing with a make believe truck until dinner so I suppose sending him to his room to calm down worked.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Fever?  I got texts from her teacher at school today that she had a rising fever.  It never got to 100.5 so she stayed all morning.  I don't know what happened though because she seems fine now, played long and hard before her nap this afternoon and is eating well. 

Fitness Update:  Gym workout today.  I noticed while doing high knee runs with a mirror in front of me that my right foot swings outward more than my left one does when I run.  Is it connected to the IT band pain I had on that side that caused me to get that MRI and find out about the meniscus tear that I'd never noticed?

Someone Once Said: On being a doctor: But about forty years ago I found out I wasn’t God, and ten years later I discovered I wasn’t even Aesculapius.

The Vacuum Cleaner Squirrel Phenomenon

I emptied out the vacuum cleaner yesterday.  We have one of those whole house systems that has a big bin in the garage that I empty out every quarter.  I do this regularly because I forgot once and it got over full and it sounded like it was going to explode.  So now there's a quarterly reminder on my calendar and for that, I'm grateful.

There's a lot of junk in the bottom of the bin that I dump into a trash bag.  There's also a filter that usually has lots of fluff stuck all around it that I have to pull off while holding my breath.  Once I can get to the filter I take it out and carefully, without jostling it, take it outside and bang all the collected dust and dirt in the wooded areas around us.

Only wait, there aren't any wooded areas around us any more.  We have neighbors finally.  And for that, I'm thankful too.  So I trudge down the hill in our back yard and commence banging the filter on the hard ground while fluff and dust flies in all directions.  And yes, this is what you're suppose to do.  You don't have to replace the filter at every cleaning.  You do have to take a shower afterwards though to remove the dust from you.

So I'm looking at all the fluff and dust and how it's interleaved together into these nice mats and pillows and it's all the same color I'd label as, "Squirrel Gray."  How did it get gray?

We don't have gray carpet.  Dirt, is black or brown or more commonly from around here, orange red.  I do have some gray hairs, but not enough to fill a bin and besides, we all know I highlight it.

When you mix a collection of colors together you usually get a result that's something like an ugly brown, not light, squirrel gray.   And it was like this in my last house and the one before.   Is there some sort of vacuum dirt color magic I don't know about?

The Big Boy Update:  He heard me say to daddy that he needed a haircut and he offered up, "I need a haircut!"  So we went this morning and he was excited to get it cut.  He sat so calmly and quietly that I wondered if he was going to go to sleep but when the stylist, Anan, asked him questions he would answer her with enthusiasm.  He looks handsome now.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:   Two.   They work on numbers at school but I haven't expected much from yet on the counting front yet, but she's asked for "two" of something (usually grapes or pretzels or crackers) several times now.  Or maybe she's just saying "food." 

Someone Once Said:  The purpose of any government is never to do any good, but simply to refrain from doing evil.

The Pads and The Rip

I sent myself a reminder to write about this gymnastics topic sometime last night and with some strange level of synchronicity my neighbor brought up her daughter and how she was doing in gymnastics as we ran this morning.  She talked about the uneven bars and how her daughter was doing all these moves she didn't know the names for, but was impressed with nonetheless.

Only last night I'd been thinking about my long gone days of gymnastics.  I loved the bars.  They might have been my favorite, but I liked all the events for the most part.  As my neighbor and I talked I gave her the names for the different skills her daughter had mastered and tried to explain how some were more difficult to learn and why.

And because it had been on my mind last, I asked her if her daughter wore the hand grips when she worked on the uneven bars.  She had seen what I was talking about but they didn't need them at her seven-year-old's level yet.  I told her about what a "rip" was and how they were no fun.

I explained that even with powder on your hands, you put a lot of pressure on the pads of your fingers and over time calluses built up.  The hand grips helped alleviate and lessen the problem, but it doesn't solve it.  Eventually, when your hands are responsible for holding your whole body as you spin around on the bars something gives under the skin and the whole callus will tear off, right down to the very sensitive skin.

Odd that I'd think about that last night.  It took years for my palms to not overgrow calluses after I stopped gymnastics.

The Big Boy Update:  "What's that hook?"  On the way into a store yesterday he stopped at the back of a truck and asked what the trailer hitch was.  It didn't look like a hook to me, but he has a strong sense about how vehicles might connect.  

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  I think we've entered the "I'll wait until you put me in training pants to poop" stage.  Daddy is currently annoyed. 

Fitness Update:  Fourteen miles today.  I took the advice of an experienced runner at one of the stores I frequent for running gear and took two Gu pouches and used them earlier than I normally would have.  It definitely made a difference adding that calorie boost before I started to fade as opposed to when I really needed it. 

Someone Once Said:  Supreme happiness lies in wanting to keep another person safe and warm and happy, and being privileged to try.

Woah:  I Just realized today's is my 500th blog post.  Have I been doing this that long?  Hard to believe...

You couldn't pay me to do that job...

But I'll do it for free instead.

I was having coffee with a friend and fellow parent from school the other morning.  She and I seem to have the same problems.  First, we each had a job that included high-stress, long-hours and intimidating responsibilities.  Both she and I now are officially, intentionally and happily unemployed. 

We both seem to have that problem I mentioned before about jumping, no, diving in, getting involved, volunteering and helping out where needed.  We laughed as we talked because for the amount of work we do some days, we're right back where we started with overall workload.

But would we be as willing to do what we do if we were being paid for it?  I've thought about this on and off for much of the school year.  Our school is, in part, such an excellent school because of the dedicated families that give of their time for events and other school needs.  We had one parent that dedicated so much of her time that she was given the job of office manager the following school year.

And yet I don't want a job doing what I do.  I don't want to have a connection to some amount of money that I tie to why I'm doing the job.  Because I'm not doing it for money.  If the amount was low (and since it's in the field of education, you know it's not going to be high) then would I feel I was underpaid?   If it was high, would I feel more obligated to nights and weekends and time I might have willingly given for free, but begrudge because as an employee I feel obligated?

It's an interesting perspective and I'm in a fortunate position that I can give of my time while being a mother to two small children at home.  But bottom line, I would rather have the satisfaction of giving to the school through my actions than I would a check at the end of the day.

The Big Boy Update:  "I want him out."  This is relatively new.  We know little boys are interested in their penises.  That's just the way it is.  Of late, he wants to pull it back out of his underpants after he's gone to the potty and wander around with it sticking out.  And I'm not even going to mention the "thrusting" that goes on.  Today we needed to get pants and shoes on for a trip to the store when he pulled it back out and said, "I want him out."  Apparently it's a boy.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Houdini.  She is suppose to sit on the bench and wait with the other toddlers until she's escorted to our car at pickup from school.  Apparently she will agree that, yes, she's ready to sit and wait on the bench.  But then she dashes off.  The school administrator today told me she's nicknamed her, Houdini, because she can disappear so quickly.

Fitness Update:  Back to sore.  We're doing the more aggressive exercises lately.  Initially, there were some people in the gym that were clearly doing harder exercises/sets/circuits from our trainer than we were able to do.  But lately he's been putting us on the same track.  It's encouraging that we're making some progress.

Someone Once Said:  I learned centuries back that there is no privacy in any society crowded enough to need ID’s.

Some Things are Never The Same

This is about a forward roll.  You remember those?  You did them all the time when you were young and you learned that it wasn't scary at all to flip your body over on the floor.  Then, you fairly drove your mother nuts because you wouldn't stop doing forward rolls.  Dinner time?  I'll be right there, let me roll from the bedroom to the dining room.  Not you, you say?  That was me.  That was so me.

My mother got me into a gymnastics class eventually because there was just no stopping the forward rolls and the cartwheels and anything else I could come up with from a flips and turns perspective.  But now I'm old.  Well, older.  Much older than that little girl in gymnastics class doing aerials and vaults and floor routines.

So last night I was leaving my children's room and I was happy because they'd finally gone to sleep (which is always cause for celebration as far as I'm concerned.)  There was a nice long hallway in front of me.  It was carpeted.  It looked friendly.  So I thought I'd try a forward roll to see if I still had it.

Ugh.  Well, maybe ugh with a little bit of ow.  I felt hugely ungainly.  I remember forward rolls being effortless and even comfortable.  Not so as an adult.  Maybe my arms and legs are just longer now.  Maybe my nerves are more apt to get jangled.   And then there's that spinal fusion that gives me less mobility in my neck.  It felt more like I had done a forward pentagon instead.

Whatever it was, that forward roll wasn't as fun as I remembered them being.  Interestingly, this morning our trainer had my partner and me do the old leap frog like you did as a child.  Yes, we did leap frog from one end of the basketball court to the other.  Did you know that's a darned tiring exercise?  And talk about uncoordinated.  The amount of laughter we shared as we each felt equally awkward made it fun.

The Big Boy Update:  "The clouds covered up the rain."  Just before we got to school I saw him in the back seat looking up at the cloudy sky and this is the deduction he made.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Hair puller.  Oh no, why does my daughter have a hand full of hair in her hand?  I am thinking it was an accident; I hope it was an accident that she pulled out some hair yesterday morning.  It's getting long and in her eyes so it looks like we'll have to be bow-diligent until it gets long enough to put into a pony tail or pig tails more regularly because I'd like her to not rip out any more.

Fitness Update:  Our trainer told us this morning we are doing well.  He told us this after we both collapsed from some new partner-based pushup/squat/shoulder breaking exercise he had us try.  We couldn't even manage thirty seconds each.  So are we doing well or is he bolstering our confidence? 

Someone Once Said:  Do not carry weapons to give you Dutch courage. If a gun makes you three meters tall and invulnerable, you had better go unarmed and let your sister do the shooting.