I'll never know what possessed him, but tonight Julian wrote a list of each task that must occur in the morning before leaving for school.
One of these tasks doesn't exist (2. wash hands, though I guess that's implied in the morning pee). A few were skipped (between 6 and 7 should be "put knapsack on porch").
The remaining jobs are never-ending torture for we parents. Each step has to be pushed through, reminded, bugged, nagged, told again, and again, and again, each subsequent time with a raised voice.
I must qualify: Boys only -- Katrina throws little fits from time to time, but overall moves from one job to the next happily ("time to get my LUNCH!!") and even when she's having a fit she mostly goes through the steps, if noisily. The boys...? It takes a tractor to pull them through.
I really like that the schools have kids write parents Valentine's. Her teacher wrote "Happy Valentine's Day" at the bottom, but the rest were her words.
Julian was proud of a little poem he wrote (and printed at school I guess), part of a larger card with photos of him making kiss faces with his glorious lips. He said proudly, "Everyone else did 'Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, Sugar is sweet, and so are you!', but I wrote this just for you!"
Then Gabriel showed me his monochromatic super-simple Valentine. Now I think I know why Julian made such a point of his poetic creativity.
The boys didn't pass valentine's out (Katrina did hers though, happily), but who would have noticed the Doudna boys' missing valentine's with all the crap that goes around? Good grief, I hate to be a killjoy, but can't the school ban this? They come home with bags and bags of candy, lollipops, candy necklaces and all sorts of weird junk. It's just too darned much, and creates no end of problems when they insist it's theirs and they can eat it anytime they want. They can't of course, but it's just one more thing for me to enforce.
It's official. Katrina is a girl. She changes her clothes constantly!
I can't even remember what she started out in today, but it doesn't take long before she strips down and finds a "dress-up" dress. This one is a hand-me-down from Cousin Remi, as are the boots (and if you're reading this, keep 'em coming!).
Katrina rode her bicycle and played with the soccer ball all day in this outfit, though she disapproved of the picture-taking.
No doubt about it: boys and girls really are different, and this is not socialization. The boys never cared about changing their clothes, and she does it 3-4 times a day!
I'm totally psyched and all a-glow from a GREAT day with my GREAT boys!
We drove up to Truckee Friday night, stayed overnight at an inn, then got to the small ski resort Tahoe-Donner at about 8:10. This was plenty of time to get rentals and lift tickets, as it turns out, since the lifts (only two in the whole place!) didn't open until 9am. And we were there on line right before the lifts even opened!
It felt great to warm up on the bunny slope. The boys hadn't lost a step since our last trip, and Gabriel was barreling down in no time. He rode the surprisingly tricky lift again and again while I hung back to help Julian. (See those houses? These are "ski-in ski-out" -- walk out your doorstep, and ski down to the lift!)
But would a Doudna ski trip be one without logistical challenges? Of course not. Julian had lost his goggles somewhere during the rental process, so had to borrow mine until I could traipse into the lodge to go look for them. Hence the oversized goggles that pushed down on his nose and made it hard for him to breathe.
This place is small, but it's laid out in such a way that means for a lot of hoofing around in ski boots. The lodge and racks are downslope from the lifts, so you have to carry your skis up and down this steep slope that's hard to walk on to take a break. It's remarkably inconvenient to get from one lift to another -- and there's only two!
Despite these challenges, I did find Julian's goggles, in the rental area lost&found, right in time for their 10am lesson.
When I dropped them off for the group lesson, I emphasized to the instructors that they are at really different levels. Aside from the brother problem, really, they don't belong in the same lesson.
I was way off. They are at different levels from each other, but were the only two of all the kids that showed up that morning who were clearly beyond the "magic carpet." As a result, the boys were in the same lesson, but it turned into a semi-private with one instructor -- just the two of them. This place wasn't kidding when they said they were oriented for beginners!
This worked out though. The instructor told me he'd taken them up the longer lift, then did some blue runs, and even a short "black diamond."
I should explain: at Tahoe-Donner, most of the runs are visible from the bottom of the lifts, and none of them look anywhere near as steep or long as Sierra-at-Tahoe's blue "Lower Main," including their "black diamonds." Of course, no ski resort can go without black diamonds, but all "black" meant was the hardest runs there, which weren't very hard.
During the boys' lesson, I explored the various runs and tried to remember all the good advice and exercises I'd gotten in lessons a few weeks ago. I saw people skiing on the "black diamonds" who skiied more tentatively than I do, and some really little kids with tethers too. I was intimidated at first, but found I had much more fun when it was steeper and had some more power (gravity, speed) to work with. Before long I wasn't even pausing before barreling over the edge of the top of a run, which now looked like a fun entryway rather than a terrifying precipice. My demo skis were better for me too; shorter and somehow slippery-er, or so it seemed, making it easier to position my feet.
The runs were wide, the conditions crusty but predictable, nothing like the sheets of icy stuff at Sierra-at-Tahoe a few weeks ago. It was completely uncrowded -- and virtually free of snowboarders! It was amazing how many people were there with little kids though. I think the biggest demographic was the 4-and-under set.
Over lunch, the boys and I chatted happily about our successful morning. I was struck looking into their eyes, especially in the bright ambient lighting in the lodge. Of course, as Mom I can never get enough of looking into my sons' eyes, but the contrast was fascinating.
Gabriel, pure and bright brown.
Julian, gray but darker and with brown framing his pupil, and overall rounder and larger:
My silly boys. There was no place I'd rather be than with them today!
After lunch, I took the boys on one of the easier blue runs that their instructor had taken them on....
...wait, once again, Julian's goggles went missing. His helmet clip didn't hold them on very well, and he lost track of them again. Of course he didn't discover this until we were about to get on the lift, so it was another major physical effort of taking skis off and huffing it down to the lodge to go look for them. Lost&Found #2 had them.
...back to skiing. To the blue! This didn't work at all. Gabriel was at the bottom in about 2 minutes, but Julian had no end of trouble. He fell again and again, mostly on purpose. He wouldn't turn, he was afraid of losing control, and would sit down and pretend to fall every time he picked up any speed. He'd done better than this while we were warming up, then in his lesson. What gives? This was no fun. He was just psyched out somehow.
I somehow coached him to the bottom, by getting him follow me. There I told him to wait for about 15 minutes while I took Gabriel up the other lift. I wanted to take Gabriel down the "black diamonds" I'd done, to see if he could do them safely.
And Gabriel did, and he had a great time. I never fail to be impressed with his enthusiasm and willingness -- no hesitation, no questions, just "Oh GREAT Mom!" On the lift he patted my arm to catch my attention, and I turned to look at him, and he was smiling at me. "What is it?" I asked, half-laughing. "Nothing, I'm just so happy to be with you," he said. Love and pride compete for the top spot.
No problem! He skiied in control and was able to stop, and didn't just bomb straight down. Good for him!
Gabriel had proven himself, so I told him to just go ride the lift and pick any run he wanted -- it's impossible to get lost at this tiny resort. All runs end up at the same place, and he'd just done the hardest run there. So, go for it dude. That was a huge advantage of this small place, I could send Gabriel off on his own without worrying.
I went back to find Julian, who was anxious for a bathroom break, then we tried the bunny hill again. After another run or two, he was doing much better, relaxing and practicing "jumps." There is a tiny "terrain park" (just bumps) next to the bunny hill and he liked taking those too.
By now the bunny hill lift lines were long, so Julian agreed to go up the big lift and try the "Mile Run," the long green from the top. I'd checked this one out before and overall liked it, though it has long flat spots at the beginning and the end. Julian really relaxed and had fun on this once he hoofed it past the dead zones. He did remarkably better when the terrain was more interesting and he had things around him to look at and distract him. It's a mental game with him -- when you turn off "mental" he does a lot better (just like Mom).
Gabriel joined us once on this run. I gave the boys some back shoves to push them along and tried to pull them with my poles in the flat spots. That's really a pain. Steep is better.
It was pretty warm too. Careful grooming keeps the snow in decent ski shape, but the snowpack seems really low. There were bare spots right next to the runs. Truckee has some of the highest snowfall in the nation some years, but not now.
I wanted to run the "black" with Gabriel again, and we were getting low on time, so I formed a plan. We'd all 3 go up the longer lift, Julian would ski down Mile Run on his own. Gabriel and I would take the black down (3 minutes), ride back up the lift (5 minutes), then take another black to shortcut to Mile Run and meet up with Julian. Basically, Gabriel and I would go up and shortcut twice while Julian skiied the long way around, and we'd end up in the same place. If we didn't meet up on the run, we'd meet at the bottom of the lift. No problem, all were game.
Except when Gabriel and I were done with our part, Julian wasn't there at the lift. We waited for a few minutes, but I knew he should have been there by now -- unless he'd fallen and couldn't put his skis back on and was stuck. The lifts were going to close in 10 minutes, so we went back up to run Mile Run in its flat green entirety to look for Julian. I was starting to regret my totally brilliant plan. The sun was getting low, it was getting colder, the lifts were closing, and I didn't know where my 7-year-old was.
Gabriel and I skiied down Mile Run quickly, but, no Julian. When we arrived at the end, there he was waiting at the lift (which was now closed). Phew!
But he was crying. "Where were you, Mom? I thought I was lost!" I felt terrible. I told him we went back to look for him, and we'd just gotten mixed up because we thought he'd be there waiting for us. "I was!" he insisted.
Later, the real story emerged. Julian had beaten us to the lift entrance, but he got back on it and went up again, against instructions. And, inexplicably, instead of taking nice safe slow Mile Run again, he took the blue run that he'd fallen on again and again when I'd taken him on it. Not only is that run much harder for him, but without careful planning and a lot of hoofing, it's hard to get back to the lift where he was supposed to meet us -- never mind that we'd never think to look for him there. But he did all this himself!
He'd met up with a snowboarder on the lift, and said that they talked about each other (ages and such), and that he told the boarder about Bey Blades. This is the worst part for a Mom: this guy was probably shaking his head at Mom: this kid is 7, what's he doing out here alone?! Yeah, well, good point. Other people were just as shocked at my letting Gabriel go on his own, though really this was not an issue there.
As it turned out, Julian totally stepped up to the plate when he was on his own, even if it scared him. He explained that he'd taken this route instead of Mile Run where we expected him to be because he thought it would be faster (true). He did fall a few times, but got back up and kept going. He even took the bumps on a small terrain park alongside the bunny hill. I felt bad that this last run was upsetting to him, but he recovered quickly and I think it was a confidence-booster in the end.
As we packed up to go, I told Julian to make SURE his goggles were on his arm -- NO LOSING THEM AGAIN!! The boys were in full mess-around swing by then, and I was immediately frustrated with how difficult it is to get them to listen to, let alone follow, the most basic instructions ("get in the car" "put on your seatbelt" "stop shoving each other" etc).
We stopped by the Vilbigs' house a few miles away, where we had a nice chat and a very welcome dinner. The boys went straight outside to play in the snow while I engaged in some welcome grownup talk, then came in when it was getting dark.
Then Julian said, "Wait, my goggles!" I assured him that I'd stashed them in his bag in the car. "No, Gabriel got them out of the car -- and then I hid them in the snow!"
Unbelievable. After all I'd done to keep custody of these hapless goggles today, he has to go bury them, and now it was nearly dark. "Well, I think I know where they are!" Gabriel and Julian set out with two borrowed flashlights to dig up the goggles, and they succeeded...mostly. They were out there for a long time, and only one of the flashlights came back at first. Upon prodding, they admitted they'd buried one of the flashlights too. What is wrong with boys sometimes?! Fortunately Gabriel was able to find it too, and we left with all our things and none of theirs.
The drive to Truckee the night before had been seriously impaired by traffic. Ric told me that I'd left at the worst possible time for hitting traffic on 680, though with school getting out at 2:40, it's hard to leave much earlier. I'd made a map mistake and blew my dinner plan for Marie Callendar's, so ended up at Arby's -- ick, but quick. Despite our foray into fast food, it took us well over 5 hours to get from Sunnyvale to Truckee.
But driving home from Truckee on Saturday night -- part of the plan -- was a breeze. The boys fell asleep immediately, I stopped once for gas and to wake them up for the only bathroom break we were getting. No traffic, and we were home in 3-1/2 hours.
These whirlwind overnighters are exhausting, as the drive is long. Some people even compress it into a single day, leaving at 4am! I can't imagine. Still, for all the logistical trouble and heavy carrying and expense, the highest moments make it completely worth it.
This particular ski area is attached to an enormous housing development that also has a snowplay area, a golf course, tennis courts, a marina, campgrounds, a recreation center -- a downhill ski area is just another amenity. So as ski resorts go, it's really small, but it worked perfectly for a single ski day. The lack of crowds and whooshing snowboarders was especially great, and it was so manageable that both boys could ride lifts and ski down on their own (Julian not intentionally at the end, but he did). And, Gabriel and I could really ski together. Yay! I have my skiing partner!
I'm even wondering if we can squeeze in another day trip somewhere before our trip to Sugarbowl coming up in March.
Life and the hamster wheel resume tomorrow, but I always have skiing to think about to cheer me up.
2/13/2012
Original comments:
Julian had his up and down moments, but when he relaxed, he did great. He's starting on parallel turns on his own now, and even went on a very very mini-terrain park, and was practicing "jumps." He really liked Tahoe Donner's one longer green run and did parts of it entirely on his own. Confidence is his biggest challenge, but he made huge progress today. I was so proud of him today.
Gabriel did his first black diamond runs today, as did I, but I must qualify that most of the blues that we did at Sierra-at-Tahoe were harder than what this small resort calls "black diamonds." If I can ski them with confidence, they're not much. Still, I had the most fun on these runs and had some valuable sink-in practice.
Mostly, I was thrilled to see Gabriel in control and safe. Confidence, speed, courage -- not a problem with him. Control and safety are the bigger concerns and he totally met those concerns. I was so proud of him today.
This was just a simple one-day trip and deserves no more mention than that, but it's hard for me not to write every little detail, because it was all SO FUN!!!
Tonight as I was facing the usual hurdle of herding kids out of the car, a longtime neighbor walked by with her dog. Since we've lived here, we've seen this neighbor walk by with her dog, but not always the same dog, since her dogs are always old. This dog looked pretty old too.
Katrina shrieked when she saw the dog -- but not for the old reason of being terrified, but for the new reason that she couldn't get out of her seatbelt quickly enough to go say hello to the dog.
Our kind neighbor, an elderly lady herself, walked up our driveway to introduce her -- get this -- pit-bull/dalmation mix dog, a 12-year-old female named Pokie. "That's because of the polka dots!" our neighbor explained. The dog is white with faint black spots, but her body and head structure clearly say pit bull.
Katrina and Gabriel were all over this mellow, friendly dog with only one ear (she came from a rescue agency and apparently had had such a severe ear infection that the ear was lost). Katrina delighted our neighbor with comments like, "I LOVE this dog, Mommy!" "This is my favorite dog EVER!" Our neighbor remembered Katrina freaking out a year ago at this same dog, so was happy to see her fawning all over the dog instead. Gabriel too was very focused and tender toward the dog, but Julian kept his distance. He's always been nervous around dogs.
We've been thinking about pets for a while. I seriously considered getting two rats, and that's still an option, but Dave mentioned he might tolerate a cat now (allergies). Can we fit a cat into our lives? Still, I am a dog person through and through, always have been. There's no way we can get a dog while I'm working, but the tug came back seeing how much the kids -- even Julian -- loved being around it.
Another reason to add to the growing list of reasons to change our lives.
Right before going up for bed, Julian lamented that I don't like him (we'd had some conflict earlier, quite ordinary). Gabriel was there, so I pulled them both closer and said, "Listen guys...NO ONE in the WHOLE WORLD makes me MADDER than you two. No one makes me want to pick them up by their ankles and shake them up and down like you."
They laughed, so I continued, "Sometimes I get SO mad at you I want to smush a pie in your face! Sometimes I get SO mad I want to tear up pictures of you. Sometimes I get SO mad I want to dump a jar of peanut butter in your bed!" (more laughter). "But no matter HOW mad I ever get, I ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS love you both SO SO SO much," and started to give humorous examples of how much I love them.
Julian was laughing, he appreciates my amateur stand-up routines (moreso the effort than the comedic delivery). But Gabriel was crying.
Crying, Gabriel?! I changed my tone, hugged him and asked him why, and he said tearfully, "You tear up pictures of me?"
Oh my poor kid. I was only kidding! Tearing up pictures was a terrible example, but at the moment it was all I could think of, and I thought I'd recovered quickly with the peanut butter thing. I told him gently that of course I'd never tear up pictures of him, and that I look at pictures of him when I'm at work and that I think about him all the time. He was comforted, but still shaken.
My super-duper tough cookie, the one who so rarely shows sensitivity, who is virtually immune to social pressure, who navigates the usual childhood emotional obstacles with ease -- brought to tears by a joking mention of a parental unbonding gesture. It's not that he doesn't experience the same emotions that all kids do; they're just much better protected most of the time, with occasional breaches that go straight to the heart.
My own heart is still pretty guilty -- but a little warmed -- about it. He really does love me.
A common question to focus people unsure what to do with their lives is, "What would you do with your life if money were no object?" And when they said they'd be a professional parasailer or a gardener or open up a tortilla stand, you say, "then how can you make that happen anyway?"
I thought of a related question today: "What would I do with my life if I knew I only had 20 good years left?" This falls short of "the rest of your life" but involves more of a future than the cliche "live every day as though it is your last."
20 good years is a long time, but it's not so far off. My father was 20 years older than I am now when we started noticing some truly odd behaviors, beyond spacey, beyond normal aging -- things that were just off. At only 68, clear signs of Alzheimer's were setting in, and if he'd been willing to discuss the truth, let alone admit it, he'd likely have been genuinely diagnosed.
So rewind 20 years -- what if that were me? Would I spend this part of my life this way? I have young children, I'm creakier than I was but have no real physical impediments, I have so many ideas (boondoggles?) of things I'd want to do. I've thought a lot recently about what else I'd do, but not with the additional "...and if it were only 20 more years?"
My mother insightfully suggested that the answer might be much clearer if I took the plunge and quit. Let the things that are important bubble to the surface. Like clearing out a room completely before deciding how to rearrange the furniture that was in it.
And then there's having young children. They need me now more than ever, and more and more every year. It won't be long before Gabriel will need me in the distant grunting "don't talk to me mom" kind of way that 12-13 boys need from their mothers.
But I well remember that I wasn't fully content as a full-time mom either. I enjoyed so much about it, but missed the focused thinking I get at work. But now that I'm at work, I miss the time freedom and semi-flexible schedule full-time moms have. I really miss spending much of the day outside in the summer.
I've thought many times of making a list of all the things I'd do if I quit work...but it's so long it's overwhelming and once again my mind is in a room crammed with furniture to the top. I can't find -- heck, even think of -- the balance, so for now, it's status quo.
Today Gabriel came home with letters from every classmate, in response to his "Star Of The Week." After each kid's presentation, all classmates write a letter to the Star, telling them what they thought was interesting about his presentation.
Nearly every kid said they thought "Pesty" (oft cited as 'Pesky') Julian was a very funny name. Yet nearly half the kids also added that they thought it was not nice to say that about your brother!!
Gabriel's tales of his skiing exploits was the second most popular comment. Everyone admired his claimed ability to zoom down the mountain, but more notable was that about 5 kids said something about his falling a lot. In fact, Gabriel only mentioned in passing that he'd crashed a few times the first time he went down an icy blue-level slope, but that really made an impression. One kid even said, "you must have cried a lot." I don't think these kids know him very well!
Julian is quite the celebrity in the 3rd grade now.
We hardly ever -- to the point of "never" -- do playdates, because weekends would be the only time. But somehow this weekend, we had a plethora of them.
Saturday morning, my new friend Cindy invited Katrina over for a playdate with her 2006-er Emily, to give her a break from entertaining this very social little girl. This has never been the case for us: our kids play for so, so, SO long on their own that I always fear playdates will increase the attention I have to put to them. Our kids do become a lot of work when they play together. I don't know if a playdate would add to or subtract from that equation.
Anyway, I was more than happy to "oblige" Cindy -- hah! It's not enough that she loaned me all her ski stuff for 6 weeks and completely advanced my knowledge of ski gear (let's hear it for mitten strings), but now she's taking my daughter off my hands for 2 hours! She's also really easygoing, and full of good information and inspiration. It makes me miss my past Las Madres days of playgroups and outings -- though she also has a very busy 20-month toddler and I so don't miss those days, cute as he is.
Katrina and Emily disappeared together immediately.
(Emily is actually younger than Katrina, with a November birthday, and Cindy has received the expected grief about sending her to kindergarten in August. If I didn't know Emily's age, I'd have guessed her to be pushing 5 -- she's social, outgoing, confident, very verbal and articulate...oh yeah, and completely potty-trained, unlike Katrina. And taller than Katrina. I've assured Cindy to ignore the naysayers.)
While Katrina did the girl thing, I took Julian shopping. Normally he'd object, but this trip involved Bey Blades for Gabriel's birthday playdate tomorrow.
He willingly posed outside a nice little CA-native oasis garden right outside a snow-gear store in an otherwise odious strip mall.
On sale, my size, comfortable...sold! I bought myself ski boots!!!! I was just investigating, but, I can't argue with those elements. Gloves too. Researched ski rentals too, as I'd like to take the boys up for a one-day overnight ski trip next weekend. I was out of time for skis and poles though.
This was one expensive playdate. With all that time to shop, I went back to pick up Katrina $300 lighter.
But it's all worth happy little girls. Katrina did not want to leave, that almost turned ugly, but eventually she did. They had a great time; played in Emily's room, downstairs, outside, and rocked together in a reclining chair. And I think Cindy's objective was met, which was some time without her daughter asking for things every few minutes. It worked great!
Speaking of playdates, that evening, Dave and I joined four other now-longtime Las Madres friends and husbands for a wonderful dinner at an unusual Brazilian restaurant that specializes in unusual meats and cuts them right at your table. The husbands all basically recognize each other, but this was the first time they were all cornered into a table at the same time.
I'm not sure how the guys felt about it, but I certainly enjoyed it. I've known these men as long as the women, and my friends have some really cool husbands, I always enjoy talking to them. For a while there, they were the only men besides Dave who I talked to on a regular basis!
Then today, Sunday, Gabriel had a "birthday playdate." That meant two friends -- more than a playdate but less than a party. I'd planned for his birthday "party" to be in his classroom as Julian's had been, but after I'd committed to it, I learned that the 3rd grade does it very differently. It's really more of a birthday "meeting" -- they "affirm" they child and hand out treats and favors, but that's it -- and no parents! So I baked the muffins and spent the money and time on favors, and Gabriel brought that stuff in, but I wasn't there for his party! Weird.
So we made up for it with a "birthday playdate." Gabriel invited his longtime friend Parth (from kindergarten, and now they've been reunited in their 3rd grade class), and also a first-grader named Dan.
First-grader?! Gabriel could not be dissauded. "Mom, Dan is always so joyful!" he exclaimed. Well, far be it from me to exclude a joyful kid! I really wanted this to be for Gabriel's friends, without pesky little brother, but a first-grader in the mix made it a little odd. Thank goodness Dan isn't in Julian's class (though he does have Gabriel's same first-grade teacher).
So I took chatty Parth and joyful Dan and Gabriel to the nearby ice-skating rink, and we had a great time. I was immediately awash with a warm happy feeling, like I was in my element and I too was home and at peace, as soon as we pulled out of the driveway. I love listening to the boys excited and laughing in the car, and talking and joking with them too. These to me are the pinnacle parenting moments, with the anticipation of a great time doing something active together.
Dan had only skated once, but he was raring to go. He got on the ice before I was ready, and didn't mind at all wall-hugging until I got there. I peeled him off the wall (get kids off the wall first thing, the ice is worst there and they can't learn to skate), showed him a few basics, and before long he was skating on his own.
Parth and Gabriel, who were in ice-skating camp together last summer, also showed him the ropes.
Gabriel was right, Dan was always smiling, always cheerful, never discouraged. He slipped a lot, but never hard, and he did great. By the end, he was skating more than Parth, though Parth was more interested in talking and telling me all about how airplanes work. This kid is as destined to be an aeronautical engineer as Gabriel is to be an electrical one. A good team for an airline company!
But I was really stunned by how kind and sweet and encouraging Gabriel was to Dan. He treated Dan like -- of all things -- a little brother!!!! He doesn't treat his own little brother anything like that!!
Dan couldn't keep up with the 3rd-grader conversation -- he's only 6 years old, and won't turn 7 until August, speaks Hebrew at home and his mother's English is pretty rocky -- but Gabriel obviously enjoys being around him a great deal. So funny how kids pick their friends. Gabriel doesn't have many, but he picks really awesome ones. I adore Parth too, and his mother is the nicest person on the planet.
Back at home, the boys had a snack while I frosted Gabriel's cake. They were joined by Julian, decorated the cake (dumped sprinkles onto it that is), ate some, then played Bey Blades until Moms showed up.
I think I had the best time of all. I didn't get to skate on my own a whole lot, but I didn't mind at all. It was so fun playing with them, teasing Gabriel, asking them to show me things, getting them to follow me, "race" a little. Afterward was fun too, chatting and bantering with them, though more often just stepping back and letting them be little boys together without butting in. This is my favorite kind of playdate!
This weekend wasn't all about playdates, however. It was also about snow preparations. I reserved ski school and lodging for a trip in March, bought ski boots, and went ice-skating.
But it was freakin' 80 degrees out today!! This weather sucks!! It's clear, warm, balmy, fragrant, absolutely stellarly beautiful. California doesn't get better than this -- in May. It's February! It was 60 in Tahoe today! Lovely, great, but I WANT SNOW. Where are the clouds, the storms, the cold?! I'm not sure it makes sense to even attempt skiing this weekend -- this is warmer than the slushy "spring skiing" in April, which is only for the hardcore.
And it's not just the snow either. Dave doesn't really want to expend the effort next weekend for a one-day trip, understandable -- but that means I get a day to myself with just my boys. Those are the most wonderful times for me -- so do a snow dance for me and hope that this extraordinary weather doesn't put the kibosh on an extraordinary time!
How is it I manage to build up a heap of overdue projects? And I mean really silly things, like, going out of my way to buy new kids' storage furniture, then it sits on the porch in boxes for weeks because I never seem to have a block of time to build it, or to bug Dave to build it. Ridiculous.
But finally, finally, finally, I have completed my annual photo calendar. I've set a new record -- it's well into February now!! In the past I've had it done in the first few days of December.
It'd be easier if I didn't insist that every month's photos were taken in last year's month; some months I just don't have good photos, or not enough to round out a "theme." I had particular trouble with photos this year: after completing the calendar and doing a final review, I wound up completely changing 4 or 5 of the months' photos.
Now, can we finally get around to putting together that new furniture?!
It looks like Mr. Horrible is there to stay at work. Whenever I tell a new outrageous story about the absurdity of it, I get asked, "Why are you still there? Life is too short!"
I ask myself that a lot. I could make a convincing argument that it's better for us financially -- two incomes are better than one, and I do earn more than enough to cover the hefty cost of childcare. We could survive (keyword there is "survive") on one income, so it's not financial life-and-death that I work.
I could also say that my original plan was to work long enough to get back up to speed after a long hiatus, update skills, forge new contacts, and gather information for the real goal of going independent, somehow. And all that is still true, but I haven't done anything or even thought much about that next step.
Part of my staying at work is that the very extremity of incompetence and nepotism in one person results in unprecedented team cohesion. The usual petty workplace annoyances are in the noise, and I'm enjoying one of the best coworker relationships I've ever had in my career. Nothing like a common enemy to unite us. And I have some pretty awesome coworkers, and I've always taken well to being mentored.
And at heart, I do really like the work. It reaches the geek in me, it forces me to think critically, and rewards my otherwise useless excruciating attention to detail.
But the truth is: I'm not sure I'd know what else to do with myself. Even though I lamenting every day that I wish I had more time.
I know what I'd like to do: write. Or what I'd have to do, because it's always been my inevitable fate. I shouldn't pretend I have a whole lot of choice in the matter.
But would the desire to write carry over when it actually could be satisfied? Would the ideas flow when there's a big blank chunk of time ahead? Or do they only materialize when there's a tiny sliver of time to squeeze through between the vast mental demands of work and raising children? So often I'm frustrated that my head is bursting with ideas but it's physically impossible to sit down and write them -- would that frustration turn to writer's block if I had the time?
Being a writer -- a real one, not just a puppet, a slave to a garbled mind as I am -- takes discipline. It means being able to make yourself write when the opportunity is there, even if the inspiration isn't. It means being able to put yourself back in that mental space you were in when the idea struck. Being a writer means developing practical skills, not just satisfying impulses. I'm a long, long ways off from that.
So for now, it looks like I'm stuck with Mr. Horrible. Then again, maybe I can view this as material-gathering for a future book or article -- about how I turn it into him being stuck with me instead.
A conversation with my nephew, then another one with my sister a few days later, and all the recent Tiger Mom talk, got me thinking.
My sister is home-schooling my niece and nephew this year, which involves a home-school program three days at a farm, and two days of schooling at home. At home, my sister is using Singapore Math to teach my niece and nephew.
We called my nephew on his birthday, and the boys exchanged a few words about school. Gabriel complained to his cousin about boring repetition in math and other subjects, and Aidan said he didn't have that. It was quite clear who had the better schooling situation!
I don't know much about Singapore Math, but it seems to be embraced by the home-school/alternative/whole-learning set that frowns on "traditional" math learning that is criticized for too much rote learning, memorization, and repetition. But Singapore itself isn't known for its granola flexible society -- it's better-known for Tiger Moms. Is Singapore Math hard-line traditional or alternative warm-n-fuzzy?
I asked my manager about this, and he said that he was indeed raised with Singapore Math -- in Singapore -- but not until he had "the basics" down first -- which includes memorizing multiplication tables. He said nowadays in Singapore, Singapore Math methods are used in conjunction with traditional math techniques. He added that he and his wife compel their two sons to do Singapore Math twice a week at home, because the Palo Alto school district's math curriculum is way too easy! He said they're not the only parents who feel that way, and that the aggressive Jewish and Stanford-professor and Eastern European immigrant parents in Palo Alto make Tiger Mom seem like a creampuff.
So, I still don't get it. How is it that the same math curriculum is embraced by the Tigers and the Granolies?
And where does Cupertino fit in?
Tonight, Gabriel had some math homework that involved finding other ways to solve problems than just brute-force multiplication. Gabriel got stuck on the first problem, and so did I. I understood the intent, but not how to apply it to this problem. The straightforward way to solve the problem itself was to use double-digit multiplication, but Gabriel said they hadn't been taught that yet, and clearly that wasn't the intent of the problem. Maybe if we were both better out-of-the-box creative thinkers we'd have figured out the point of the exercise (and Dave did later), but to get through it, I figured I might as well just show Gabriel how to do double-digit multiplication (that is, where both numbers have more than one digit, like, 14 x12). I'm all about brute force.
This was my first foray into home-schooling; timely since I'd been thinking a lot lately about how challenging it must be. My boys are so rude and resistant about doing even the basics around the house -- how could I possibly get them to respect me as a teacher?
But "home-schooling" has a huge advantage of a tremendous teacher:student ratio. This became apparent within seconds, when I showed Gabriel how to multiply multi-digit numbers. I was floored by his reaction -- he was actually excited by it. Usually he whines and complains about math homework, but he took to this eagerly. It only took a few minutes to show him what to do, then I gave him a 4-digit x 4-digit problem to solve, and he was all over it. He exclaimed, "I learned way more from you than I ever do from this stupid homework, Mom!"
The one-on-one attention likely mattered the most, but I was struck by a few additional things. Gabriel mentioned foam cubes they use in school to demonstrate 1s, 10s, and 100s placement -- visual aids that I think are commonly used in the "whole learning" approach. So our school isn't all about hard-line learning, and the homework reflects that too.
But he had nothing good to say about these visual aids -- he explained eloquently and convincingly how all that is "stupid," and he'd just as soon get on with the regular math. He went on to complain about having to "explain his answer" on worksheets, and the worksheet content itself, which focuses on finding another way to solve a problem (e.g. if you can't do 14 x 12, can you do 14 x (10 + 2)).
Frankly, I'm with him on this. Out loud I defend the methods -- and in principle I do agree with them -- but in truth, I'd just as soon get down to the dirty too. The concept teaching likely works for most kids, but for the uber-literal among us, it's actually more painful. Perhaps it's exceptionally beneficial to us then.
I'm not cut out for home-schooling, and our family dynamic would never support it. But there are certain aspects of it I have respect and envy for, primarily around customizing a curriculum around a particular child. We've long thought that Gabriel of all kids has more specific needs, or would respond better to a more varied curriculum, and lately I've been thinking a lot about this. Tiger Mom inspired me to be much tougher about his attitude toward math tests, and to take a strict line on traditional things like his "math facts" tests (solving 100 simple multiplication problems in 5 minutes to reinforce memorization -- which we now make him do over until he gets them all right). Then my sister inspired me to think more about customizing teaching for a particular kid -- she does this every day after all.
On the other hand, part of life is adapting to the world around you, and there's a whole lot he's gotten out of school that I'd most certainly have missed. He's a really pretty good writer, for instance. He's decent at presenting things and speaking in front of groups, and gets a kick out of tossing humor in.
But there's no doubt that Gabriel would like math much better if he could fast-forward past the concept stuff -- the very material that is supposed to establish the foundation -- and get right to the problem-solving. On the other hand, maybe a kid who has no trouble doing the multiplication needs the supporting material, like how to make the problem easier to solve by reorganizing it.
How much of his enthusiasm about learning multi-digit multiplication was from the material challenge, and how much was from the one-on-one attention? It was both, but he can't fake "ah-hah" moments just because he was basking in individual Mom attention. Gabriel's talented cousin has the acting chops for that, but Gabriel doesn't. He meant it.
I could take this kid places...if I could. His enthusiasm and smiles and relaxation were contagious -- seeing him truly enjoy the lesson instead of bitterly complaining about it really struck me. It's like releasing the emergency brake and letting the car go.
But even if I could home-school, how much else would be lost along the way? He'll always have whatever gifts he was born with, but he won't always have external influences insisting he stretch the sides of him that don't come easily. I was conflicted even before kindergarten with him: should we choose his schooling to develop his strengths or weaknesses? Julian and Katrina are more well-rounded in their abilities and these questions just don't present themselves. But raising Gabriel has always been about unanswered questions.
So what is Singapore Math about anyway?!
2/2/2011
p.s. Here's the homework problem that started all this.
A restaurant uses 14 dozen eggs each day. If the restaurant is open 7 days each week, how many eggs will they use in 4 weeks? Explain why your answer makes sense.
Dave and I both first thought this was simply found as 14 x 7 x 4. But Gabriel pointed out "a dozen eggs." So the problem is really 14 x 12 x 7 x 4, and there's no way around double-digit multiplication -- which they haven't been taught yet. Later, Dave decided that the answer was supposed to be expressed in dozens after all, which brings you back to 14 x 7 x 4. I got tired of trying to divine the semantic intent and just figured I'd show him multi-digit multiplication, which wasn't the point of the exercise, but we both liked it a whole lot better. The "explain why your answer makes sense" is what Gabriel hates the most, and I don't like it either! See, I'd make a horrible home-schooler.
One year today, working full-time at my old company, which is now a new company. It's been good in many ways and horrible in others. One thing I know for sure: I will have no lingering doubts when it's time to go -- I'll be done!
Gabriel has another book report due, which of course he complained about bitterly. He remembers a talk he had with his cousin recently about not having to do reports, and now exalts home-schooling as something that's super-easy and he'd have control over.
But the more I think about it, and the more I work with the boys on their schoolwork (which I do more of now, with my new higher standards for quality of work), the more I see home-schooling as some unreachable pinnacle. How do home-school parents do that! It could only happen with cooperative kids -- for me it's a serious struggle just to get the boys to put their lunch away every day. I can't imagine a whole 20-minute exercise or a whole day keeping their attention. What an intense job that must be.
At the same time, I've read in many places that the #1 factor in quality education is the child/teacher ratio, and home-schoolers certainly get a good one of those. They get committed parents who can be right on top of issues or deficiencies, or elaborate on strengths in exactly the way an individual needs.
I'd be the worst home-schooling parent in the world, and I couldn't possibly take the stress of overcoming the sibling dynamic and getting my children to listen to me, but it's like opening up a new world to think of what I could do with them -- if I could.
Meantime, I'll start my 2nd year of work tomorrow and let my tax dollars do schooling for me.
This sure has been a busy end-of-January. Gabriel had a book report due Friday, an in-class "birthday meeting" Friday, and today, "Star Of The Week."
We worked on this poster over the weekend, and rehearsed his presentation last night. We had 3 weeks to do it, and really only did it in a few days, but it worked out.
I went with him to present it, and it went very well. Gabriel talked easily about his "Breaking News," "Travel Guide," his family, and his favorites.
Then his "sharing" about cultural traditional items or a hobby (thank goodness) was of course about electronics. He showed a radio-controlled car and talked about how it's no longer in tune with the transmitter, then showed a timer he made in his Electronics Learning Lab, modified from a design in the manual.
To my surprise, his teacher told me afterward that he's very comfortable speaking in front of a group. I have to give this school district some credit for that; speaking in front of groups is something they've been doing since kindergarten. I think that's a great thing to develop in everyone; I'd certainly have benefitted from that throughout my life.
The odious job of filling in all the kindergarten registration forms and finding all the right documents was weighing on me all weekend. It's shocking that registering for school is the same tired manual process as was probably done 80 years ago. Online? Download? Electronic? Feh! Here in Silicon Valley, technology capital of the world? No way! You have to go to the backcorners of Kansas for that sort of modernization. Here, you have to fill everything out by hand and replicate your address and phone number on every form. At least this year there was nothing about #2 pencil.
Then there's the pain of turning it all in. Conveniently, Gabriel's Star Of The Week presentation coincided with the kindergarten registration window, so I took care of turning in the forms (a 10-minute reviewing process, for each parent -- heaven forbid there's a line) after his presentation this morning. Aside from a quick trip home to fetch the originals of Katrina's immunization records, it went smoothly. And now it's done.
Done! Katrina is officially registered for kindergarten! My baby! But not a baby and thank goodness for that, but still -- my little girl!!
I can't decide which is freaking me out more today -- my oldest turning 9, or my youngest going to kindergarten. All good stuff, but I'm getting dizzy from the speed at which this child-raising thing is picking up!
I didn't mention my favorite second-born child here, and that is the trouble of being in the middle. He's not oldest turning 9 and he's not the youngest on her way to kindergarten, but he is the one who ran out to greet me when I got home and gave me a big hug and one of his famously fabulous kisses. That part doesn't need to go by fast either.
Not much happened today for Gabriel's birthday, on the surface. But it was a great day for that reason. Julian was at a rare playdate, and this made life MUCH easier around here -- no pestering little sister, no fighting with brother.
(Katrina is reading every word I'm writing over my shoulder and repeating it aloud as I type...ok she got stuck on "shoulder"...)
I took Gabriel to Toys'R'Us so he could buy "Bey Blades," an old rage in new plastic wrapping, a Japanese take on the old "battle tops" games. He's been absorbed in that all day.
This morning before Bey Blades invaded our house, I heard Gabriel playing the piano and singing, and snuck in to take some video. He noticed me partway through the video, but was overall undaunted. (She doesn't know the word "daunted" either.) He does this for an hour at a time - he sure does like his blues!
Katrina is reading super super well, especially for being only 4-1/4. Most people are impressed at her apparent kindergarten-readiness based on that, but Dave and I are increasingly nervous about a much more serious and meaningful kindergarten-readiness metric: she's been "leaking" in her pants more and more. Today she went through three changes of clothes, and would have had more without numerous reminders. Regardless of reading level, no school will (or should) take her if she's still acting like a new potty-training toddler.
(She's reading all this as I'm writing and giggling, which tells me she comprehends it, and tells me again how much she cares about this problem: not at all. Yeah hah hah very funny.)
Maybe by the time she's 9 we'll be done with this. Meantime, we have a birthday to celebrate!
Today was one of those super-busy days in which really nothing gets done, but it's packed anyway. How can that happen?
I took Katrina to the dance place where I used to take classes and did several recitals. As I learned when I got out of college, dance is a lot more convenient than ice-skating, especially when the nearby ice-skating rink is SO convenient but SO lame. Katrina enjoyed watching the "junior" class. I ran into the director of the dance studio, a brilliant talented fabulous dancer who I loved in many ways, but his perfectionism and intensity slowed his classes down too much for me, a recreational dancer who was never going to be professional and needed classes to keep moving instead of picking apart down to the last detail -- usually my style! Still, it was great talking to him and just being there again, especially showing off my beautiful sprite of a daughter. He told me he'd just had his 4th boy, only 5 weeks old.
After visiting the dance studio, I gratefully returned my borrowed ski stuff, and Katrina had an unexpected hourlong playdate with my friend's 2006 daughter while we chatted. They were so cute together playing with the girl's dollhouse, and she sweetly loaned Katrina a stuffed animal.
Back home, lunch for kids, then time for kung fu. I went grocery-shopping during Julian's class, but watched the last 10 minutes of it. I really like it and hope he continues, but he sounds so-so on the idea.
The sifu shows him this "stand down" (I think that's what he called it) position. I like how he corrects Julian's hand position. I'm told Kung Fu is taught more strictly than other activities, though I think these guys are actually pretty loose.
In the same plaza as kung fu, there's an odd little Russian market with really inexpensive produce. I've been going there more and more, especially after discovering that I can get tomatoes there for a quarter of the price than at Whole Foods. I'm hooked on this wonderful roasted tomato-onion soup that I've been making, and was shocked the first time I realized that 3 pounds of tomatoes can cost $15. And now that all the kids like mangoes, it's a good source of inexpensive mangoes, which can also add up in bulk. It's small and dinky and packed with odd interesting items -- and it's always busy.
At the market, I ran into a mom from Gabriel's class and her son too, who I recognized separately from Gabriel recognizing him at the physics show last weekend. It struck me that this was as close to community as it gets around here. All it takes is a few small businesses close together, even in a suburban strip mall.
I unpacked groceries, worked with Gabriel on his Star Of The Week presentation due Monday, trimmed Katrina's bangs, redirected Julian from pestering Katrina 100 times, found an activity craft for Katrina, did some mail-sorting...finally around 4pm my strange late night caught up with me, and still with having eaten nothing more than a muffin my kind friend offered me that morning, crashed for a nap.
I made dinner for the family and my tomato soup (which no one else will eat but I don't care), caught up on Facebook and blogged. Other than the nap it feels like I've been in motion all day -- but my to-do list hasn't shrunk at all.
Sleepover last night...Dave and I went out to dinner and had a nice evening.
But around 3am, I woke up hard and just couldn't shut my mind off. I don't know why, but I was struck with an intense urge to take care of one of those lingering projects. This is to digitize some ancient VHS videos of dance recitals to DVD, using a DVD/VCR player we bought years ago with that express purpose.
And I did, I thought. The DVDs aren't playing everything I tried to put on them, and won't play at all on a computer. I'll figure that out, but meantime it was so interesting to see this old part of my life. It was more than just a part of my life, my life revolved around it. And now it's barely more than a distant memory on crumbling old tapes.
One pair of tapes was particularly interesting: a weekday dance recital in 1998, then some footage from the weekend Reno 200 dual-sport ride in 1998. The two events almost overlapped, but I found a way around it. Thursday night, I had the first recital night. Friday morning, I rode my motorcycle WFO in a record-breaking 3-1/2 hour trip to the Reno airport, where I parked it and flew back to San Jose. I remember calling my father and talking to him over the sound of slot machines at tha airport. Friday night, I did the 2nd recital, then very early Saturday morning, flew back to the Reno airport where I picked up my motorcycle and rode to the start of the Reno 200 ride in Boomtown, meeting Dave (who was not my boyfriend yet) and two other friends.
In my current life, I regret more and more that I'm such an older parent. Having my first baby at age 38 wasn't a big deal at the time, but now at age 47 and entering the max-activity stage of my kids' lives, I find myself more concerned than ever that my age might limit my full enjoyment of my kids' childhoods, and their memory of me. So far it's only made me more determined that they'll only really realize how old I am in retrospect -- "Mom took us camping all the time, being in her 50s didn't stop her." But though my unnatural schedule explains most of my chronic exhaustion, I know there are limits -- at some point I will have to face declining energy and resilience from age. My creaky lower back is a stark indicator of that.
But seeing video clips of my dance and motorcycling life reminds me that my life was very full before the children -- I didn't squander my youth. Dance and motorcycling weren't directly why I had kids so late in life, but whatever drove me to do those things and away from a more settled life were. Perhaps that same drive will keep me tuning out my contemporaries' increasing complaints about age, and maintaining a healthy state of denial. I have to -- what's the alternative?
(Recently I had to chuckle when my coworker and I were stretching to go out for a run at lunch. Another coworker had stepped out for a smoke, and started listing his injuries to explain why he couldn't join us -- somehow our running invites everyone's excuses. We made sympathetic noises and went off for our run. The funny thing is that the injurious smoker is in his 20s, whereas my coworker and I are both 47, and he's a grandfather! There's no denying our age but there's definitely an attitude difference.)
At some point in life, I'll be old enough that looking at videos of my former life will be worthwhile reminiscence, joyful memories with no regrets. I'm not there yet. I'm not ready to sit back and take stock of my life as though it's over. My back may have other ideas about resuming dance classes, and certainly my schedule would never allow it, but my heart hasn't given up.
Fortunately my heart has plenty else to keep it occupied -- tomorrow is Gabriel's NINTH birthday, and what could fill my heart more than that!
Thursday night...prep for Gabriel's in-class birthday party tomorrow (baking muffins, wrapping 20 books, book donation in his name to the library). Final touches on sports book report, practice presentation, finish up homework. Get ready for sleepover tomorrow night. Decline a birthday invitation for Sunday for Katrina. Start looking at the "Star of the Week" presentation due Monday, which we've had for 3 weeks and haven't touched.
Birthday, book report, "Star of the Week" report, sleepover, all in the same weekend. There's got to be payback down the road.
(I updated/finished our ski reports, mostly added pictures....and STILL working on the calendar -- I've never been so behind!)
I took this photo for my Mom yesterday and forgot to post it. Our orange tree is bursting with gorgeous fresh oranges. Fitting for this lovely spring weather we're having, while the East Coast is being bludgeoned once again by snow. For once, I'm actually envious. It's January, it's supposed to be colder.
My back is reminding me who's in control -- it hasn't fully snapped yet, but did everything just short of that. I can't stand completely straight, but my canes are only on notice, not in active duty. I'm sure it was from sitting Sunday morning -- not from the previous 3 days worth of back-tweaking activity.
Has it really been nine years since your mother called me at 6am and said, "it's TIME....oh no here comes another one gotta go...."
And nine years since Uncle Ronan drove the wrong way up 14th streeet to get around traffic to take your mom and dad to the hospital, passing a cab with your grandmother in it, stuck in traffic (but happy for the comic relief) ?
Nine years. That sounds so long in some ways, but completely wonderful when it's about your favorite nephew's birthday.
Today I primed Gabriel for some real work after school: he has a book report due Friday and a "Star Of The Week" presentation due Monday, both of which we're behind on because of going away last weekend. And of course, regular homework.
He took care of the homework part by leaving it at school today, undone. Great.
So, you can catch up on your book report, I told him. He'd already written up the content, from 4 straight days of working on it before we left for our trip, so all he had to do was write up the final version. Later we'll do the crafting portion, but to me the most important part is the writing content. I put him in the office to minimize distraction -- half my trouble getting the boys to do their homework is their irresistable adorable little sister who wants to play.
But he had other ideas.
Fortunately, dessert is enough of an incentive that after dinner I was able to get him to do the final writeup, practice the presentation twice, and plan out the crafting part, including finding a drawing for him to copy. This is a "sports report" for which he picked bobsledding, his "favorite sport" (?!?!?!!!). Even more fortunately, he's psyched to do his "Star Of The Week" project because he wants it to be all about his skiing.
Whew! I was so tired last night that I couldn't sleep! That happens to me, getting all wired. I was really excited about our ski trip, and also fretting about some things I wished had been better.
I did finally fall asleep, but this was one of the very few times I woke up at home and thought, "aw, rats!" Then, "where should we ski next time?"
Of course when my mind is all wound up, one of my best outlets is writing (others are exercising and baking), so I sat down to purge my whirling mind of thoughts and torment my poor blog readers with yet more stream-of-consciousness overflow.
And when the pressure on my brain was finally relieved a little, I got up....and my lower back said: Nay. Fortunately, it let me stand all the way, but transitions up and down are uncomfortable. I'm glad it happened from writing instead of skiing (though the time connection is clear). I'm in for a few days of creaking and groaning and old-lady sounds (and hopefully prescription drugs if my back doctor will agree over the phone). No cane though.
It didn't stop me from taking the boys to something we'd reserved and planned this afternoon, and a primary reason I wanted to come home early (which was in every way a good thing). This is an unusual treat: The Physics Show, a free physics demonstration put on by a local college, and oriented toward kids. We were running late, so I didn't push Dave to get Katrina ready to go, which was just as well. It really was meant for school-age kids.
This was really a nice little show! I was delighted to see that the first topic was Electricity, to give Gabriel some background on his favorite topic. He recognized a demonstration in which a magnet was moved near a coil, then the coil moved near the magnet, while an "electrograph" showed if there was any electricity. "That's AC, Mom!" Gabriel leaned over and told me (alternating current). He hadn't heard of Faraday's Law though. Neither had I. Julian participated more, answering "yes!" when the physics instructor asked things like, "do you want to see that again?"
They also did demos on temperature and pressure, leaving the finale for last. Another physics instructor lay down on a bed of nails, had another bed of nails placed on his torso, then a cinder block placed atop the bed, and then someone smashed the cinder block with a sledgehammer! The point was to show how pressure could be dispersed over a large area, but the boys were mostly excited about the smashing thing.
Just like in high school, this sort of science is interesting but mostly lost on me. I still can't explain why you get shocks getting in and out of a car (something about negative and positive particles repelling each other). It's too much art and not enough tangible visible clear digital -- it needs imagination and faith I don't have. (Biology was my best science, since it was more literal, memorization was a bigger asset, it involved cute fuzzy creatures sometimes, and I never minded dissecting things.)
But when Julian told me later that some kids say that Santa Claus is really your parents (no idea why this was on his mind today), I said, "I'll bet most people don't believe that you can move a 2x4 with a plastic post, without even touching it!" (one of the static electricity repelling demonstrations). I had a believer when I told him, "See, The Force really does exist!"
Tonight was homework catch-up, lunch-making, and we're back to the real world tomorrow.
Professional photographers "FlowPix" were at Sierra-at-Tahoe when we were there. They take the photos with no obligation and post them to SmugMug for optional purchse, but of course when we're back home we can't resist shelling out for precious memories of our little darlings.
Most of these photos are ones of moments I couldn't possibly get myself anyway.
Gabriel and Julian waiting the first day of ski school, with Julian on the ski school's own "magic carpet" to take him back up the little hill.
Katrina's "red team" class waits--- -- then they each get some special help.
I love this series; all of them getting started.
The dorky staged shots are irresistable. I mean, look at these two!
Speaking of dorks....
I felt terrible that Katrina didn't get to go on the lift again on our 3rd day, but this face makes me feel a lot better.
