Friday, February 26, 2010
Rachel it is
So, this morning the kids went out to check the nesting box, only to disrupt poor Rachel, our smaller black Australorp. Alex came back in and pronounced that it was "like Rachel is constipated". She went back in the nesting box and emerged ten minutes later or so, and Alex gathered the still-warm egg. It was quite exciting for all of us! Rachel is the smallest of the three and the sweetest--which unfortunately translates to the lowest on the pecking order, as well.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Our First Egg!
Woohoo! Our first egg has been discovered. I checked the nesting box this morning while out refilling the waterer, and, next to our two wooden eggs, there was a slightly smaller but perfect brown egg. I am completely tickled and a little disbelieving! (Is it really a REAL egg? Did a child plant this egg here, because she is so looking forward to them actually laying eggs?) I so want to crack the egg for verification of its authenticity, but I absolutely have to save it for my sweeties to see this evening!
Yes, my grandmother kept chickens, and I did gather eggs a few times as a child, but that was so long ago and infrequent enough that it seems a bit surreal.
So...you might be wondering 'why?' on those wooden eggs. Well, our chickens have always seemed incredibly disinterested in the nesting box, much to my dismay. I even tried to introduce them to it, and they were quite adamantly NOT interested. I had read that placing wooden eggs in the nesting box could 'clue them in' as to where those eggs go. It's very possible that they've laid a few beginner eggs in random places and have just now figured out 'OH! That's what these are!' Fiona and I have lightly scouted the yard with no obvious eggs anywhere, though there are many possible hiding spots, and chickens generally tend to like dark, safe places to lay the eggs.
We'll see if the egg-laying continues, as chickens normally start laying eggs in the spring. The poor chickens have a rather erratic coop heater, which has been overheating the coop a bit at night. We just turned it off, thinking it's better to leave it off so long as temperatures stay above freezing at this point, so it's possible that the egg-laying may go dormant for a time with cooler weather again.
I believe this brown egg would be from one of the Black Australorps, Rachel or Bach, whereas Chloe's eggs should have a creamy white color. These are the light brown eggs, much like grocery store brown eggs. I did pick the traditional egg colors, despite the popularity of the 'Easter egg' colors, as I look at this as a long-time venture and figured I'd get annoyed with the other colors on a regular basis. Everyone else seems to think I'm silly, though, as they'd love blue and green eggs! Just think of me is as the main character in Dr. Seuss' "Green Eggs and Ham". That Sam-I-Am would have his work cut out with me!
Our chickens are and have been free to wander the yard during the day, within the confines of the back yard privacy fence, which they have fortunately respected as their barrier. I suppose the insulting term "chicken" refers to the fact that they are not particularly exploratory and prefer to stay 'close home', which is nice. They voluntarily go into their coop at dusk and roost. We then lock up the coop for the night, to protect them from predators. When they were smaller, I did observe a large gray cat prowling and stalking their coop run, and we had a couple of nights during which an opossum stole into the coop but thankfully did not kill a chicken. Michael secured the coop, which seems to have worked thus far.
We did lose our prettiest Faverolle chicken, Giselle, which we believe was probably to a hawk. Another Faverolle, Perinelle, did not develop properly, and she sadly drowned while trying to work her way under a garden fence over which her pals flew. Losing Peri and Giselle played into my lost chicken enthusiasm, I believe, but the other three girls have been growing steadily and look great out there.
The kids were talking about the 'pet value' of the chickens yesterday, which I was disparaging, as they aren't exactly cuddly or sweet. Fiona pointed out, "but they eat all the bugs!", and I did laugh with that reminder because she's right! Crawly bugs are at a minimum in our back yard now! The kids are still quite happy about the chickens and would love to get more. Perhaps my enthusiasm will pick back up when all three--Chloe, Rachel, and Bach--are laying eggs regularly!
Yes, my grandmother kept chickens, and I did gather eggs a few times as a child, but that was so long ago and infrequent enough that it seems a bit surreal.
So...you might be wondering 'why?' on those wooden eggs. Well, our chickens have always seemed incredibly disinterested in the nesting box, much to my dismay. I even tried to introduce them to it, and they were quite adamantly NOT interested. I had read that placing wooden eggs in the nesting box could 'clue them in' as to where those eggs go. It's very possible that they've laid a few beginner eggs in random places and have just now figured out 'OH! That's what these are!' Fiona and I have lightly scouted the yard with no obvious eggs anywhere, though there are many possible hiding spots, and chickens generally tend to like dark, safe places to lay the eggs.
We'll see if the egg-laying continues, as chickens normally start laying eggs in the spring. The poor chickens have a rather erratic coop heater, which has been overheating the coop a bit at night. We just turned it off, thinking it's better to leave it off so long as temperatures stay above freezing at this point, so it's possible that the egg-laying may go dormant for a time with cooler weather again.
I believe this brown egg would be from one of the Black Australorps, Rachel or Bach, whereas Chloe's eggs should have a creamy white color. These are the light brown eggs, much like grocery store brown eggs. I did pick the traditional egg colors, despite the popularity of the 'Easter egg' colors, as I look at this as a long-time venture and figured I'd get annoyed with the other colors on a regular basis. Everyone else seems to think I'm silly, though, as they'd love blue and green eggs! Just think of me is as the main character in Dr. Seuss' "Green Eggs and Ham". That Sam-I-Am would have his work cut out with me!
Our chickens are and have been free to wander the yard during the day, within the confines of the back yard privacy fence, which they have fortunately respected as their barrier. I suppose the insulting term "chicken" refers to the fact that they are not particularly exploratory and prefer to stay 'close home', which is nice. They voluntarily go into their coop at dusk and roost. We then lock up the coop for the night, to protect them from predators. When they were smaller, I did observe a large gray cat prowling and stalking their coop run, and we had a couple of nights during which an opossum stole into the coop but thankfully did not kill a chicken. Michael secured the coop, which seems to have worked thus far.
We did lose our prettiest Faverolle chicken, Giselle, which we believe was probably to a hawk. Another Faverolle, Perinelle, did not develop properly, and she sadly drowned while trying to work her way under a garden fence over which her pals flew. Losing Peri and Giselle played into my lost chicken enthusiasm, I believe, but the other three girls have been growing steadily and look great out there.
The kids were talking about the 'pet value' of the chickens yesterday, which I was disparaging, as they aren't exactly cuddly or sweet. Fiona pointed out, "but they eat all the bugs!", and I did laugh with that reminder because she's right! Crawly bugs are at a minimum in our back yard now! The kids are still quite happy about the chickens and would love to get more. Perhaps my enthusiasm will pick back up when all three--Chloe, Rachel, and Bach--are laying eggs regularly!
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Stick-to-itness
Numerous ideas and interests seem to pop up repeatedly and too often, really. I am so easily distracted by so many fascinating things these days. I've always considered myself a very tenacious person, but I don't seem to be recently... or maybe it's the opposite! Perhaps I expect to master every subject of interest, which is really a very silly presumption.
It really is good for us to develop a variety of light interests. For example, I've been feeling guilty about losing my chicken passion! Yes, I bought books and learned about some chicken breeds, and then I began Storey's Guide to Raising Chickens in a systematic way, thinking I would finish the complete book like a course, but I only made it through about page 50 in this manner (though I use it as a reference book still). I did learn a lot of interesting things about chickens from my readings and the internet--and it was fun, but, no, I don't need to be a chicken expert! Our chickens have not begun laying eggs yet, but we expect them to soon, as they're now 6 months old.
Michael and I began the Stephen Hawking's Universe series, and, after 3 fascinating episodes, I was inclined to begin a new television series and would have if Michael had not expressed his desire to finish the series. I settled down slightly discontentedly, but as soon as the show began and we continued, I wondered why I had been inclined to switch so quickly.
Even when I work out on the elliptical, I swap between at least two shows at a time--and sometimes three or even four. I make up my mind daily as to which I'm in the mood for (or what's due at the library soon!), and I have been known to switch from one show to another during the same workout session.
At this moment, I have many unfinished projects and books. There are so many things that I buy the supplies to do--recipes, home projects, etc.--and then take an eternity to get around to or simply forget about. ADD? Perhaps. I know from experience that I can commit to an activity, that I can finish particular projects. It's nice to have multiple interests, but we do need to limit ourselves to a certain degree, or the 'fun' things become too much and actually stressors.
The most important component to following through on things, though, is routine and schedule. Perhaps it's time to create one for my 'free' time so that I can follow through on things that are of interest to me...and so that I can evaluate what is worth being on my 'follow-through' list. Perhaps chicken books, sewing doll dresses, and Jewish cooking are not my priorities. Then again, perhaps I would follow through on more things if I restricted this computer time!
It really is good for us to develop a variety of light interests. For example, I've been feeling guilty about losing my chicken passion! Yes, I bought books and learned about some chicken breeds, and then I began Storey's Guide to Raising Chickens in a systematic way, thinking I would finish the complete book like a course, but I only made it through about page 50 in this manner (though I use it as a reference book still). I did learn a lot of interesting things about chickens from my readings and the internet--and it was fun, but, no, I don't need to be a chicken expert! Our chickens have not begun laying eggs yet, but we expect them to soon, as they're now 6 months old.
Michael and I began the Stephen Hawking's Universe series, and, after 3 fascinating episodes, I was inclined to begin a new television series and would have if Michael had not expressed his desire to finish the series. I settled down slightly discontentedly, but as soon as the show began and we continued, I wondered why I had been inclined to switch so quickly.
Even when I work out on the elliptical, I swap between at least two shows at a time--and sometimes three or even four. I make up my mind daily as to which I'm in the mood for (or what's due at the library soon!), and I have been known to switch from one show to another during the same workout session.
At this moment, I have many unfinished projects and books. There are so many things that I buy the supplies to do--recipes, home projects, etc.--and then take an eternity to get around to or simply forget about. ADD? Perhaps. I know from experience that I can commit to an activity, that I can finish particular projects. It's nice to have multiple interests, but we do need to limit ourselves to a certain degree, or the 'fun' things become too much and actually stressors.
The most important component to following through on things, though, is routine and schedule. Perhaps it's time to create one for my 'free' time so that I can follow through on things that are of interest to me...and so that I can evaluate what is worth being on my 'follow-through' list. Perhaps chicken books, sewing doll dresses, and Jewish cooking are not my priorities. Then again, perhaps I would follow through on more things if I restricted this computer time!
Time Curves
The biggest difficulty I have with Stephen Hawking's unified cosmic theory is the treatment of time. Newton saw time as a linear function. Past lies to the past, and the future moves forward. Hawking revised this theory to treat time as simply another aspect of space, which becomes warped with gravity and completely stops within a black hole (ultimate gravity). However, no matter how I think I get Hawking's explanation, I know that my mind doesn't buy it. I will think that I get the whole 'time wrapping around with space' idea, but then I find myself wondering what happens 'after', as though any time warps eventually get it back on the path to linear time.
I mean, how can time continue just outside a black hole but not within the nearby black hole center? I suppose it's like turning off a TV program. It simply doesn't go on, even though we do. When 'time' resumes for the show, it's as though nothing happened no matter how long we've waited to turn it back on. Oh, Hawking does say time always moves 'forward', much like a roller coaster, just not in a straight path.
Hawking shows a cute little diagram of the universe, with a train on a roller-coaster path which finally goes back to the beginning, suggesting that if we lived eternally, we'd repeat time? He also has theories about wormholes from one 'time path' to another nearby on a different track--basically time travel.
Anyhow, sometimes I wonder about this stuff that seems so illogical. Time not linear? I am truly stumped.
In fact, these theorists come up with these abstract theories and then look for supporting evidence with their research, which sometimes seems really open to interpretation. The only way I would even have interpreted the study results to agree with the theory is if I'd known the theory to begin with.
I'm not sure Hawking has any direct 'proof' that time isn't linear, but it seems to work for his unified cosmological theory. Hmm, I think that there was actually a satellite experiment which demonstrated a slight difference in time for a dog, perhaps. Maybe he's right... and it does agree with a Church opinion that time began with creation. What a concept.
I mean, how can time continue just outside a black hole but not within the nearby black hole center? I suppose it's like turning off a TV program. It simply doesn't go on, even though we do. When 'time' resumes for the show, it's as though nothing happened no matter how long we've waited to turn it back on. Oh, Hawking does say time always moves 'forward', much like a roller coaster, just not in a straight path.
Hawking shows a cute little diagram of the universe, with a train on a roller-coaster path which finally goes back to the beginning, suggesting that if we lived eternally, we'd repeat time? He also has theories about wormholes from one 'time path' to another nearby on a different track--basically time travel.
Anyhow, sometimes I wonder about this stuff that seems so illogical. Time not linear? I am truly stumped.
In fact, these theorists come up with these abstract theories and then look for supporting evidence with their research, which sometimes seems really open to interpretation. The only way I would even have interpreted the study results to agree with the theory is if I'd known the theory to begin with.
I'm not sure Hawking has any direct 'proof' that time isn't linear, but it seems to work for his unified cosmological theory. Hmm, I think that there was actually a satellite experiment which demonstrated a slight difference in time for a dog, perhaps. Maybe he's right... and it does agree with a Church opinion that time began with creation. What a concept.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Sleeping Beauty Ballet
Last night, Fiona and I went to see the Tchaikovsky's Sleeping Beauty ballet, performed by the Perm Ballet of Russia. It was lovely, and I'm glad we had the opportunity to see it...but it's sort of like Disney or any other expensive entertainment in that I am content with nothing less than complete bedazzlement when significant money is involved! The Ballet was great, though, and I hate how my cheapness chafes my experiences sometimes--for example, I didn't buy a $10 program for the ballet, though I kept thinking it would have been nice to glance through it during the show. I don't want it as a momento, though, particularly. $80+ dollars for two tickets alone already had me gobsmacked!
The principal dancer who played Aurora was excellent. I enjoyed one point where she held a rigid pose, much like a jewelry box ballerina, while other dancers spun her around continually while they danced. However, she was particularly gaunt and thin among the dancers. At the end of the show, when they were taking bows, she fell backwards after her third bow. The other dancers gracefully righted her in two seconds, and she laughed it off, but I was just consumed with the thought that the poor tiny thing probably hadn't eaten much of anything all day, before dancing a three-hour ballet. All the travelling and worry about weight and performances, regardless of fatigue or illness... it must be a rough life, honestly! I suppose I worry a little extra because my beautiful and healthy little girl is currently dreaming of being a professional ballerina...and artist and singer and any number of other occupations, of course!
Fiona did have the opportunity of taking a Master ballet class with one of the Russian dancers. Unfortunately, she had been expecting an elegant and sparkly ballerina and was quite excited, but instead there was a 40-ish male dancer in street clothes. I was allowed to sit in on the end of class, and it was obvious that Fiona and many of the girls were confused and a little overwhelmed, that they were struggling to follow along with him, and that Fiona's dance teacher felt self-conscious about the 'performance' of her girls--with fussy comments, "you should all know this!" Fiona left a bit down, though of course it was a great opportunity for her and I hope she may have learned a little, though I'm not sure she's advanced to the point of gleaning finesse from a professional yet.
Fiona does normally get very excited about her dance classes, and she does think they're fun. I think the relaxed, low-key and inexpensive performances at the Savannah Arts Academy are inspiring and fun adjuncts to her little-girl ballet classes. While of course the Perm ballet is a fascinating and amazing opportunity, the three-hour length and significant expense and high-pressure master classes make it all just a bit much, unfortunately, for a little girl. More than she needs at this point, anyhow, as, though she watched the ballet with interest, she was exhausted by the third act and asked if we could leave. (Might as well ask the wall to move...not a chance!) Not that we won't do it again, as apparently Fiona's dance instructor is heavily involved in the travelling ballet performances in Savannah and is invested in them--and of course we did enjoy the excellent and lovely performance, despite my griping and concerns!
The principal dancer who played Aurora was excellent. I enjoyed one point where she held a rigid pose, much like a jewelry box ballerina, while other dancers spun her around continually while they danced. However, she was particularly gaunt and thin among the dancers. At the end of the show, when they were taking bows, she fell backwards after her third bow. The other dancers gracefully righted her in two seconds, and she laughed it off, but I was just consumed with the thought that the poor tiny thing probably hadn't eaten much of anything all day, before dancing a three-hour ballet. All the travelling and worry about weight and performances, regardless of fatigue or illness... it must be a rough life, honestly! I suppose I worry a little extra because my beautiful and healthy little girl is currently dreaming of being a professional ballerina...and artist and singer and any number of other occupations, of course!
Fiona did have the opportunity of taking a Master ballet class with one of the Russian dancers. Unfortunately, she had been expecting an elegant and sparkly ballerina and was quite excited, but instead there was a 40-ish male dancer in street clothes. I was allowed to sit in on the end of class, and it was obvious that Fiona and many of the girls were confused and a little overwhelmed, that they were struggling to follow along with him, and that Fiona's dance teacher felt self-conscious about the 'performance' of her girls--with fussy comments, "you should all know this!" Fiona left a bit down, though of course it was a great opportunity for her and I hope she may have learned a little, though I'm not sure she's advanced to the point of gleaning finesse from a professional yet.
Fiona does normally get very excited about her dance classes, and she does think they're fun. I think the relaxed, low-key and inexpensive performances at the Savannah Arts Academy are inspiring and fun adjuncts to her little-girl ballet classes. While of course the Perm ballet is a fascinating and amazing opportunity, the three-hour length and significant expense and high-pressure master classes make it all just a bit much, unfortunately, for a little girl. More than she needs at this point, anyhow, as, though she watched the ballet with interest, she was exhausted by the third act and asked if we could leave. (Might as well ask the wall to move...not a chance!) Not that we won't do it again, as apparently Fiona's dance instructor is heavily involved in the travelling ballet performances in Savannah and is invested in them--and of course we did enjoy the excellent and lovely performance, despite my griping and concerns!
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Conforming to the Legal System
Wouldn't it be nice if everyone just did what they should and that be that? Yesterday was a MAJOR relief for us, as two chronic and independent annoyances were settled and ended. In retrospect, it's clear that the situations would have been over far sooner if we had resorted to legalities rather than assuming logic and common decency would prevail. Both were ridiculous situations, and both were easily settled by upping the ante...in one case with a wonderful lawyer's help. Personally, I generally steer clear of medical AND legal professionals as much as humanly possible, but it is clear that the services of both are occasionally duly required.
I remember the first time that we enlisted a lawyer's help...Michael had been hit by a car while riding a bicycle at college, and the bicycle was damaged and ruined. He was bruised and hurt a bit, but we simply wanted the bicycle to be paid for, which the insurance company refused to do. We went in to see a lawyer, and right in front of us he called and settled the case within a couple of minutes. He was horribly aggressive and loud, but oh-so-effective and simply skimmed off 30% of our win for his payment, so it was nothing out of pocket for us. We left completely gratified, but feeling a bit as though we had enlisted the powerful forces of evil to help us!
So, anyhow, I do feel a bit better this time, as we actually like the very nice lawyer who helped us deal with another evil insurance company. We should have done it sooner, but we at least want to try logic and common sense before resorting to the big guns, I suppose! We do need to pick our battles, though, and if we can hand over certain 'battles' to be settled quickly and decisively by a good lawyer, then hoorah!
I remember the first time that we enlisted a lawyer's help...Michael had been hit by a car while riding a bicycle at college, and the bicycle was damaged and ruined. He was bruised and hurt a bit, but we simply wanted the bicycle to be paid for, which the insurance company refused to do. We went in to see a lawyer, and right in front of us he called and settled the case within a couple of minutes. He was horribly aggressive and loud, but oh-so-effective and simply skimmed off 30% of our win for his payment, so it was nothing out of pocket for us. We left completely gratified, but feeling a bit as though we had enlisted the powerful forces of evil to help us!
So, anyhow, I do feel a bit better this time, as we actually like the very nice lawyer who helped us deal with another evil insurance company. We should have done it sooner, but we at least want to try logic and common sense before resorting to the big guns, I suppose! We do need to pick our battles, though, and if we can hand over certain 'battles' to be settled quickly and decisively by a good lawyer, then hoorah!
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
The Expanding Universe
Michael and I have begun watching Stephen Hawking's Universe, and I found myself dreaming about universes in the shapes of balloons and brains last night, after our conversation about the universe expanding last night.
I had a hard time not viewing the universe as finite, if it's continually expanding. Michael explained it as though we're fish swimming in an ox-bow of a river. We simply can't see how close one point of the river is to the continuing main stream of the river where it's close, and all the fish sees is that the distant point is far away. Michael thinks it's not all linear, due to gravity, and that it sort of bends back and twists upon itself.
He brought up the concept of the wormhole, and he suggested the analogy of the river developing a direct opening to the straight-away of the river, eliminating the ox-bow portion. I'm still trying to wrap my brain around it, but he suggested there would be a point of a huge release of energy, when the river finally fully burst forth to it's straight-away connection.
Anyhow, it made me wonder if that might be a causation of the Big Bang. Maybe our 'universe' really is a discreet entity that we can't see out of, and the explosion sort of is our universe's 'beginning', as it wiped out all else before it? Was the Big Bang an exploding wormhole from another universe?
Don't listen to me! I know nothing about all this stuff, and I've never felt quite so amazed as when I took a physical chemistry class and was introduced to quantum physics. My brain could simply not completely understand the concepts, but I would struggle and get a partial understanding that meant re-defining my concept of reality. My glimpse into quantum mechanics left me amazed and humble.
I am not beyond believing that there are other dimensions, other realities, that share the same finite space within which we exist. Perhaps they exist in the 'dark matter' that we can't see or detect except for the fact that we can measure its indirect influence in ways. We can only see a limited range of wavelengths...how many more possibilities are there?
I believe we have a few more shows in the series, so I may wax on about this subject for a while!
I had a hard time not viewing the universe as finite, if it's continually expanding. Michael explained it as though we're fish swimming in an ox-bow of a river. We simply can't see how close one point of the river is to the continuing main stream of the river where it's close, and all the fish sees is that the distant point is far away. Michael thinks it's not all linear, due to gravity, and that it sort of bends back and twists upon itself.
He brought up the concept of the wormhole, and he suggested the analogy of the river developing a direct opening to the straight-away of the river, eliminating the ox-bow portion. I'm still trying to wrap my brain around it, but he suggested there would be a point of a huge release of energy, when the river finally fully burst forth to it's straight-away connection.
Anyhow, it made me wonder if that might be a causation of the Big Bang. Maybe our 'universe' really is a discreet entity that we can't see out of, and the explosion sort of is our universe's 'beginning', as it wiped out all else before it? Was the Big Bang an exploding wormhole from another universe?
Don't listen to me! I know nothing about all this stuff, and I've never felt quite so amazed as when I took a physical chemistry class and was introduced to quantum physics. My brain could simply not completely understand the concepts, but I would struggle and get a partial understanding that meant re-defining my concept of reality. My glimpse into quantum mechanics left me amazed and humble.
I am not beyond believing that there are other dimensions, other realities, that share the same finite space within which we exist. Perhaps they exist in the 'dark matter' that we can't see or detect except for the fact that we can measure its indirect influence in ways. We can only see a limited range of wavelengths...how many more possibilities are there?
I believe we have a few more shows in the series, so I may wax on about this subject for a while!
Serving the little King!
Alex tipped me $1 for refilling his room humidifier for him last night! What a magnanimous little Leo (rising & moon)! I definitely had a mixed reaction, but I was so surprised I sort of just took it and said, "okay, thanks!" He's a sweetie!
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Ignoring the Professionals!
Ugh! It is so hard to find the right balance with our kids. Sometimes 'helpful' people are simply wrong, and it becomes frustrating to get input that leads us in the wrong direction. I'm speaking of the kids' school teachers now...
Okay, so, the lesser infraction first... Alex's teacher is pushing him to read books at higher AR levels. The AR level translates to 'difficulty', basically. However, the problem is that my boy is perfectly and appropriately immature. Smart and sweet and immature...lovely! I have no burning desire to see him enter the world of teenage emotional angst, and I love to see him playing innocent childhood games. He enjoys reading silly books and some mysteries, like 39 Clues and Hardy Boys. The problem is that most books targeted at his emotional age level are also fairly low AR levels (and by this I mean his correct age level!), whereas Alex has been tested at a very high reading ability, hence the teacher's pressure to read more advanced fiction books.
I wouldn't be so upset at this if I hadn't gotten caught up in buying the teacher's suggestions at first. I went to the library and asked the librarian about her recommendations. She shared my concern about unsuitable material and expressed her own dismay about the idea. In fact, we came to a joint decision that he clearly doesn't need to worry about his reading level, as he can already comprehend 12th grade level materials, according to his test scores!
Isn't that a shame, to sully his mind with inappropriate fictional content when he clearly doesn't need to worry about it?
Whew! Okay, that's my soapbox, but hold on... this is a personalized, Montessori education. The child should progress at his own level, and, since he's reading at an advanced level, shouldn't we be striving to improve that? I suppose that is the logic wherein the teacher influenced me, but I would have to say that his innocence is the priority, and there are LOADS of studies that he can beneficially occupy his time learning. Besides, what's the point of a high reading level? For those other studies, right?
Alex has always been prone to be sensitive and slightly inclined towards anxiety and depression, but that tendency has been far less noticeable in the past 3 years or so. I feel a burden of guilt about that tendency, which I feel has been due to both nature (my own DNA) and nurture (my influence), and I am greatly relieved that he seems to have achieved a healthy, happy disposition for the most part. Yes, I'm irritated at his teacher's misguided suggestion, but I must say that I've been thrilled with her overall influence on Alex. She is mellow and grounded and seems to have a very healthy, fun, and somewhat laid-back attitude about her class. I just wanted to throw that in, after all my fussing!
The second infraction bothers me more because it concerns a criticism of my child. Fiona's teacher began sending home progress reports suggesting she was distracted and unfocused right away. Honestly, I didn't worry about it, as I know she's bright and prone to daydreaming and frankly don't care a whole lot! Sounds perfectly healthy to me, though of course I have some sympathy that the teacher may have to remind her to focus a bit, but overall she's a model child and that's not such a big deal!
However, starting this 2010 year, the progress reports became more serious, to the point where she was receiving notes of 'Needs Constant Guidance' on a daily basis. It finally got to me, and I reacted, including seeking suggestions from others and worrying that I would receive recommendations to get her tested for ADD and medications!
To be fair, maybe I did need to give it a little bit of attention. I began speaking with her about focusing and would follow up daily on how much she'd done at school, and within two weeks her progress report labeled her as 'Independent' every day!
I don't know... maybe that attention was needed, but my reaction was, "She was perfectly fine, and the teacher overreacted!" I don't like seeing my seven-year-old constantly worrying about finishing work plans. Yes, I want her to master the material, but that's never been a problem, and I'm fairly certain she's always done a fairly good job. She's a slow worker, as was I, and I honestly think speed is overrated. In fact, I have some concern that she's likely not spending as much time processing, simply so she can hurry through the content now. What a shame.
This perfectionist feels strongly that perfectionism is damaging and leads to unhappiness. I struggle not to stress my children by pressuring them to be perfect, but it's all too easy to give way when the teachers trigger that dam to open.
Fiona has always been my little ray of sunshine, and I hate to see worry darkening her brow. Alex has always been prone towards anxiety, but he has been happy as a lark much of the time in the past couple of years. I have the strong tendency to pressure them, honestly, and I hate when I realize that I'm applying even more pressure because of someone else's concerns. I can smother and easily make them miserable if I'm not careful, as I can be the wrathful, brooding parent quite easily. I'd rather let them achieve less and be happy, if I can simply control my own concerns and let go. So, this blog is essentially venting my frustration at the teachers' influencing me to lose that resolve!
Okay, so, the lesser infraction first... Alex's teacher is pushing him to read books at higher AR levels. The AR level translates to 'difficulty', basically. However, the problem is that my boy is perfectly and appropriately immature. Smart and sweet and immature...lovely! I have no burning desire to see him enter the world of teenage emotional angst, and I love to see him playing innocent childhood games. He enjoys reading silly books and some mysteries, like 39 Clues and Hardy Boys. The problem is that most books targeted at his emotional age level are also fairly low AR levels (and by this I mean his correct age level!), whereas Alex has been tested at a very high reading ability, hence the teacher's pressure to read more advanced fiction books.
I wouldn't be so upset at this if I hadn't gotten caught up in buying the teacher's suggestions at first. I went to the library and asked the librarian about her recommendations. She shared my concern about unsuitable material and expressed her own dismay about the idea. In fact, we came to a joint decision that he clearly doesn't need to worry about his reading level, as he can already comprehend 12th grade level materials, according to his test scores!
Isn't that a shame, to sully his mind with inappropriate fictional content when he clearly doesn't need to worry about it?
Whew! Okay, that's my soapbox, but hold on... this is a personalized, Montessori education. The child should progress at his own level, and, since he's reading at an advanced level, shouldn't we be striving to improve that? I suppose that is the logic wherein the teacher influenced me, but I would have to say that his innocence is the priority, and there are LOADS of studies that he can beneficially occupy his time learning. Besides, what's the point of a high reading level? For those other studies, right?
Alex has always been prone to be sensitive and slightly inclined towards anxiety and depression, but that tendency has been far less noticeable in the past 3 years or so. I feel a burden of guilt about that tendency, which I feel has been due to both nature (my own DNA) and nurture (my influence), and I am greatly relieved that he seems to have achieved a healthy, happy disposition for the most part. Yes, I'm irritated at his teacher's misguided suggestion, but I must say that I've been thrilled with her overall influence on Alex. She is mellow and grounded and seems to have a very healthy, fun, and somewhat laid-back attitude about her class. I just wanted to throw that in, after all my fussing!
The second infraction bothers me more because it concerns a criticism of my child. Fiona's teacher began sending home progress reports suggesting she was distracted and unfocused right away. Honestly, I didn't worry about it, as I know she's bright and prone to daydreaming and frankly don't care a whole lot! Sounds perfectly healthy to me, though of course I have some sympathy that the teacher may have to remind her to focus a bit, but overall she's a model child and that's not such a big deal!
However, starting this 2010 year, the progress reports became more serious, to the point where she was receiving notes of 'Needs Constant Guidance' on a daily basis. It finally got to me, and I reacted, including seeking suggestions from others and worrying that I would receive recommendations to get her tested for ADD and medications!
To be fair, maybe I did need to give it a little bit of attention. I began speaking with her about focusing and would follow up daily on how much she'd done at school, and within two weeks her progress report labeled her as 'Independent' every day!
I don't know... maybe that attention was needed, but my reaction was, "She was perfectly fine, and the teacher overreacted!" I don't like seeing my seven-year-old constantly worrying about finishing work plans. Yes, I want her to master the material, but that's never been a problem, and I'm fairly certain she's always done a fairly good job. She's a slow worker, as was I, and I honestly think speed is overrated. In fact, I have some concern that she's likely not spending as much time processing, simply so she can hurry through the content now. What a shame.
This perfectionist feels strongly that perfectionism is damaging and leads to unhappiness. I struggle not to stress my children by pressuring them to be perfect, but it's all too easy to give way when the teachers trigger that dam to open.
Fiona has always been my little ray of sunshine, and I hate to see worry darkening her brow. Alex has always been prone towards anxiety, but he has been happy as a lark much of the time in the past couple of years. I have the strong tendency to pressure them, honestly, and I hate when I realize that I'm applying even more pressure because of someone else's concerns. I can smother and easily make them miserable if I'm not careful, as I can be the wrathful, brooding parent quite easily. I'd rather let them achieve less and be happy, if I can simply control my own concerns and let go. So, this blog is essentially venting my frustration at the teachers' influencing me to lose that resolve!
Friday, February 12, 2010
Cheesy thoughts!
I woke yesterday recalling a dream in which I was eating soft cheese in an Indian dish, which I hadn't had for quite some time. It was quite a focused and sensory dream. I soon went downstairs to discover the remnants of Alex's Mutter Paneer microwaveable dinner on the counter. Highly sensitive olfaction or ESP? I'm not sure!
A Historical Book and SNAKES!
I was amazed to find a rare, out-of-print publication from 1897 available thru Barnes & Noble. I ordered it on 2-9 and it was then immediately PRINTED on 2-9! I received it 2-11. The book is priceless to me, but how many others would be interested at all? Sam McGill recounts humorous and historical first-hand anecdotes and descriptions of events and the way of life in Williamsburg County, SC, a genealogical center for me, beginning in the 1820's. Only $23.01 plus tax, free shipping...delivered to my door almost immediately! Kisses to technology! The publisher, www.General-Books.net, apparently prints to order from scanned-in-texts. How economical, green, and fabulous for historians/genealogists!
McGill describes himself as a 'fat, mischievous boy' in early recollections. He details all manner of facts about school, church, life events, natural disasters, and play. He was not from Greeleyville, but his mother-in-law was a Gamble, and he says 'the old Gamble stock...were renowned for beauty'. This, of course, strokes my ego in just the right way :). No personal ancestors of my knowledge are mentioned as of this point, though he is definitely mentioning locales that we have visited and there are many familiar surnames.
McGill refers to himself as 'Sam' and speaks from the third person, which allows him greater liberties with his descriptions. He talks of 'making eyes' with the schoolgirls, who were segregated from sitting with the boys and placed opposite them, though the 'dear, kind things' could probably have used the boys' help with their lessons! He relates excessively strict disciplinary measures with a fond and condoning tone, but he also mentions tricks on the schoolmaster. All is well in Sam's world, which makes for rather fun reading!
My favorite bit so far is where he waxes about the hysterics of the children regarding snakes. I have forever been mystified at my Grandmother's irrational phobia of them, and I could completely envision her and her younger sister Esther in the midst of those mad, frantic children.
My grandmother, Lillian Beatrice Mitchum Brassell, b. 1908, was from neighboring, very rural Berkeley County. She frequently mentioned snakes as I grew up, and I knew that she feared them, but the extent of her phobia did not hit home until I attended my Aunt Esther's 88th birthday party. The sisters were sitting together and watching the children playing in the open field. One mentioned the danger of snakes in the grass, and they worked themselves up to quite a level in no time at all!
A few years later, I was on the porch with Fiona and my grandmother. She expressed concern at my little girl playing so carelessly at the edge of the porch one mid-afternoon, and I agreed, thinking she was concerned with Fiona falling off the porch. Grandmama then continued, "yes, there might be snakes in those bushes!" I was dumbfounded!
Another time, I visited my grandmother in the hospital, where she had been placed on drugs that made her delirious. She warned Michael and me to be careful in walking through the building, as she had seen snakes all over the floors. She spent quite a bit of time describing all the snakes crawling on the doctors and such!
My own mother was not immune to her mother's phobia. Mom has had nightmares with snakes, and she used to be concerned about me jogging at night--not because of risk of injury from falling or an attacker, but because of SNAKES! More than once I couldn't appease her fears, and my mother, much to my chagrine, actually drove the car behind me to shine the headlights ahead of me, in search of those villainous serpents!
So, you can see why I found the hysterical reactions of the children in the 1820's to be of such interest. Sam tells of the boys using 'snake stories' to prove their heroism, and how "the children were in constant dread of them", though his tales and my own mother's recollections reveal no actual memory of any serious injuries due to snakes!
I was disappointed at first to find that the book came without a table of contents nor an index, as I realized I'd have to read completely through the dense 203 pages of fine print in order to glean whether there was any mention of my particular family members, but I'm actually quite pleased now that I find Sam to be quite an eloquent and entertaining fellow.
McGill describes himself as a 'fat, mischievous boy' in early recollections. He details all manner of facts about school, church, life events, natural disasters, and play. He was not from Greeleyville, but his mother-in-law was a Gamble, and he says 'the old Gamble stock...were renowned for beauty'. This, of course, strokes my ego in just the right way :). No personal ancestors of my knowledge are mentioned as of this point, though he is definitely mentioning locales that we have visited and there are many familiar surnames.
McGill refers to himself as 'Sam' and speaks from the third person, which allows him greater liberties with his descriptions. He talks of 'making eyes' with the schoolgirls, who were segregated from sitting with the boys and placed opposite them, though the 'dear, kind things' could probably have used the boys' help with their lessons! He relates excessively strict disciplinary measures with a fond and condoning tone, but he also mentions tricks on the schoolmaster. All is well in Sam's world, which makes for rather fun reading!
My favorite bit so far is where he waxes about the hysterics of the children regarding snakes. I have forever been mystified at my Grandmother's irrational phobia of them, and I could completely envision her and her younger sister Esther in the midst of those mad, frantic children.
My grandmother, Lillian Beatrice Mitchum Brassell, b. 1908, was from neighboring, very rural Berkeley County. She frequently mentioned snakes as I grew up, and I knew that she feared them, but the extent of her phobia did not hit home until I attended my Aunt Esther's 88th birthday party. The sisters were sitting together and watching the children playing in the open field. One mentioned the danger of snakes in the grass, and they worked themselves up to quite a level in no time at all!
A few years later, I was on the porch with Fiona and my grandmother. She expressed concern at my little girl playing so carelessly at the edge of the porch one mid-afternoon, and I agreed, thinking she was concerned with Fiona falling off the porch. Grandmama then continued, "yes, there might be snakes in those bushes!" I was dumbfounded!
Another time, I visited my grandmother in the hospital, where she had been placed on drugs that made her delirious. She warned Michael and me to be careful in walking through the building, as she had seen snakes all over the floors. She spent quite a bit of time describing all the snakes crawling on the doctors and such!
My own mother was not immune to her mother's phobia. Mom has had nightmares with snakes, and she used to be concerned about me jogging at night--not because of risk of injury from falling or an attacker, but because of SNAKES! More than once I couldn't appease her fears, and my mother, much to my chagrine, actually drove the car behind me to shine the headlights ahead of me, in search of those villainous serpents!
So, you can see why I found the hysterical reactions of the children in the 1820's to be of such interest. Sam tells of the boys using 'snake stories' to prove their heroism, and how "the children were in constant dread of them", though his tales and my own mother's recollections reveal no actual memory of any serious injuries due to snakes!
I was disappointed at first to find that the book came without a table of contents nor an index, as I realized I'd have to read completely through the dense 203 pages of fine print in order to glean whether there was any mention of my particular family members, but I'm actually quite pleased now that I find Sam to be quite an eloquent and entertaining fellow.
Monday, February 8, 2010
A refined, tragically romantic ancestress...I hope!
Thinking about Granny's warmth towards her half-sister Gaynelle, as I wrote about a couple of days ago, again triggered my musings about Granny's mysterious heritage. I've mentioned the rumors of adoption, my rebuttal regarding her dimpled chin looking like her dad's own dimpled chin, and the adopted Greeleyville man who looks like her son, my Uncle Donald. Of course Granny has always said she was not adopted, but I felt unsure when I saw in the census record that Jessie, her mom, had no children for ten years before the two girls, and I've always wondered. What I just realized is that, after Jessie had been married to Charles Gamble for ten years, her step-daughters were now teenage girls! In that day especially, it would have been common for the grandparents to raise any illegitimate children. Charles himself had been raised by his own grandparents, largely, and he probably knew the shame associated with the open knowledge of an illegitimate birth. In fact, his mother Amarintha lived with him at least some of the time that my Granny was a young girl. Amarintha never married, and he may have wanted to protect his daughters from the same fate.
So, my new idea is that Jessie and Charlie may have raised their granddaughters as their own children to provide stability for them and to allow Gaynelle and/or Gurleen to be able to marry well and respectfully.
With this in mind, and suspecting Gaynelle as the most likely candidate, given her close long-term relationship with Granny (who even took me to visit Aunt Gaynelle when I was a child), I plugged in a search on-line for Aunt Gaynelle. I didn't expect much, but I also thought her name unusual enough to be helpful in the search process (unlike the zillion Johns and Elizabeths!). I was elated to find that just in 2007 a book of memoirs had been published with recollections dating back over a hundred years of a woman in Kingstree! Many of her pages had been scanned in, and one told of the 'exceptionally pretty' Caroline Cox joining her family for Christmas dinner. According to the memoir, Carrie had naturally curly blonde hair and had later named her baby Gaynelle after a character in a Victorian novel. Sadly, Carrie died when Gaynelle was only 7 months old. Of course I've ordered the book, as that is where the scanned-in page left off, and the next pages were not included! Oh, the book did mention 'Mrs. Gaynelle Gamble Hammet', so it was certainly my Aunt Gaynelle.
Anyhow, it would be fantastic to find out that the romantic and tragic Caroline Cox is actually my great-great grandmother. I have so many loads of illiterate farm folks making up my family tree that I would just LOVE to have somebody a bit more refined in there!
I know I'm likely wrong, but it does pull together everything...if Gaynelle is actually Granny's mother, then it explains Granny's closeness to her, Jessie's strange 'birth pattern', the adoption rumor, Granny's dimpled chin would be from her grandfather, and...drum roll, please...her very curly blonde hair from her grandmother Carrie! Additionally, the father could be the Salters man who fathered the Donald-look-alike adopted man (who would then be Granny's half-brother) that I met in Greeleyville, explaining why Uncle Donald looks like the man!
I'm over the moon about this whole explanation and how well it all fits, but the fact is that I've mistakenly pieced together 'perfect fits' before. When I realized my mistakes, I was so disheartened I just stopped working on genealogy for some time. When I'd find a family with similar names and ages living in a different location, I'd begin to think I'd found the correct family and become very excited, but I'd later realize that it looked as though it had been a wild goose chase. I know thorough documentation is the accepted standard in genealogy, but it's all so much more complex than that.
I have a great-aunt on my mother's side who was born two years after her 'father' passed away. The family knew who the ne'er-do-well real blood father was, but, out of family loyalty, they list her with the other children in the family genealogy. How incredibly frustrating for her future descendants to have to sift through...and with no record of her paternal ancestry to go on. When the point is our genetic heritage, these things do matter--we can prefer whomever we like, such as those who adopted children, but we are still not genetically related to them. I do think the adoptive parents should have a place of mention to be recorded in the genealogy, but it's pointless to then track their own genetic heritage, right? These well-intentioned families have made it impossible in many cases to uncover who the real blood parents are, and sometimes we don't even know that it's going on.
I spoke with my Dad about my ideas, at which he thoroughly laughed. He repeated the rhetorical information, "No, dear...Gaynelle was Granny's half-sister" and, upon, listening to my explanations, he finally just said, "well, there's absolutely no way to know". I suppose I'll just hope that more old memoirs are published revealing the truths!
I doubt there's any personal account of Carrie Cox in existence, besides the one in the recently-published old memoir. I'm so delighted to have found it, and I hope to discover more within the whole book. It's amazing that the whole 'dust-to-dust' concept really does seem to apply to most folks!
If the family tree is correct, I do have that link with British royalty through the Packs, but those are, honestly, more 'notorious' in my mind than anything. I likely have a Native American link, as well, which has its own kind of romance, but Carrie sounds like a truly romantic character--closer to my own reality than Native Americans or British Royalty or even hard-working illiterate farm folk...so, yes, I hope she is my ancestress, and I'll be tickled if it turns out to be so!
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So, my new idea is that Jessie and Charlie may have raised their granddaughters as their own children to provide stability for them and to allow Gaynelle and/or Gurleen to be able to marry well and respectfully.
With this in mind, and suspecting Gaynelle as the most likely candidate, given her close long-term relationship with Granny (who even took me to visit Aunt Gaynelle when I was a child), I plugged in a search on-line for Aunt Gaynelle. I didn't expect much, but I also thought her name unusual enough to be helpful in the search process (unlike the zillion Johns and Elizabeths!). I was elated to find that just in 2007 a book of memoirs had been published with recollections dating back over a hundred years of a woman in Kingstree! Many of her pages had been scanned in, and one told of the 'exceptionally pretty' Caroline Cox joining her family for Christmas dinner. According to the memoir, Carrie had naturally curly blonde hair and had later named her baby Gaynelle after a character in a Victorian novel. Sadly, Carrie died when Gaynelle was only 7 months old. Of course I've ordered the book, as that is where the scanned-in page left off, and the next pages were not included! Oh, the book did mention 'Mrs. Gaynelle Gamble Hammet', so it was certainly my Aunt Gaynelle.
Anyhow, it would be fantastic to find out that the romantic and tragic Caroline Cox is actually my great-great grandmother. I have so many loads of illiterate farm folks making up my family tree that I would just LOVE to have somebody a bit more refined in there!
I know I'm likely wrong, but it does pull together everything...if Gaynelle is actually Granny's mother, then it explains Granny's closeness to her, Jessie's strange 'birth pattern', the adoption rumor, Granny's dimpled chin would be from her grandfather, and...drum roll, please...her very curly blonde hair from her grandmother Carrie! Additionally, the father could be the Salters man who fathered the Donald-look-alike adopted man (who would then be Granny's half-brother) that I met in Greeleyville, explaining why Uncle Donald looks like the man!
I'm over the moon about this whole explanation and how well it all fits, but the fact is that I've mistakenly pieced together 'perfect fits' before. When I realized my mistakes, I was so disheartened I just stopped working on genealogy for some time. When I'd find a family with similar names and ages living in a different location, I'd begin to think I'd found the correct family and become very excited, but I'd later realize that it looked as though it had been a wild goose chase. I know thorough documentation is the accepted standard in genealogy, but it's all so much more complex than that.
I have a great-aunt on my mother's side who was born two years after her 'father' passed away. The family knew who the ne'er-do-well real blood father was, but, out of family loyalty, they list her with the other children in the family genealogy. How incredibly frustrating for her future descendants to have to sift through...and with no record of her paternal ancestry to go on. When the point is our genetic heritage, these things do matter--we can prefer whomever we like, such as those who adopted children, but we are still not genetically related to them. I do think the adoptive parents should have a place of mention to be recorded in the genealogy, but it's pointless to then track their own genetic heritage, right? These well-intentioned families have made it impossible in many cases to uncover who the real blood parents are, and sometimes we don't even know that it's going on.
I spoke with my Dad about my ideas, at which he thoroughly laughed. He repeated the rhetorical information, "No, dear...Gaynelle was Granny's half-sister" and, upon, listening to my explanations, he finally just said, "well, there's absolutely no way to know". I suppose I'll just hope that more old memoirs are published revealing the truths!
I doubt there's any personal account of Carrie Cox in existence, besides the one in the recently-published old memoir. I'm so delighted to have found it, and I hope to discover more within the whole book. It's amazing that the whole 'dust-to-dust' concept really does seem to apply to most folks!
If the family tree is correct, I do have that link with British royalty through the Packs, but those are, honestly, more 'notorious' in my mind than anything. I likely have a Native American link, as well, which has its own kind of romance, but Carrie sounds like a truly romantic character--closer to my own reality than Native Americans or British Royalty or even hard-working illiterate farm folk...so, yes, I hope she is my ancestress, and I'll be tickled if it turns out to be so!
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Sunday, February 7, 2010
Math Class and ESP
We went to parent-teacher conferences on Friday, which went quite well overall. We discussed Alex's 7th grade math class with his 5th grade teacher, and the only problem seems to be that he can be forgetful about remembering to go to the scheduled classes at the middle school, which are irregular and not daily. His teacher related that Alex forgot to go to the math class the whole week following winter break. I was quite surprised when I heard that, as I had had a vivid, inexplicable dream sometime in early January about missing a math class continually. I don't believe I heard a peep about Alex missing math until the conference! Makes you wonder how many other things you dream about and never know why...
I can't help but wonder, though, if in fact he did mention in passing about missing a math class. It's possible that the dream isn't really so mysterious.
However, I had a dream perhaps a year ago about my former best friend visiting us from Washington. I wrote her about the dream, and there were numerous elements that correlated to events that were currently occurring in her life, which I most certainly did not know about--to include the fact that she had been toying with the idea of us having a visit that same night! Her hair color and a piece of art on the wall were two bits that she'd been focusing on the previous day and that I mentioned. In the dream, I was disturbed that while she was visiting she kept going into the restroom to vomit into a Baby Bjorn potty. In reality, her small son was keeping her up that night with his vomiting! In between vomiting episodes, she was on-line looking for trip ideas to visit with me!
Okay, not the sweetest dream in the world, but I had to mention it--especially as I'd again translated a son's experience to his mother...exactly like me missing math classes in my dream!
These incidents also suggest to me that we're so much more connected than we tend to realize. With certain people at least... Alex would read my mind as a baby and still occasionally seems to. I thought it was primarily his talent, but perhaps we're linked in to one another.
Have I mentioned a few of those incidents? Only a year or two ago, when we were on a family trip, Alex asked if we could do something. I clearly thought, "sure, why not?", but Michael answered him aloud with a firm "no", and I kept my mouth shut. Alex spat back, "Why not? Mom just said yes!" Michael responded, "no, she didn't," and Alex said, "she said, 'sure, why not?'!" Fiona and Michael both told him that I hadn't said anything, but then I had to admit that I had thought it plain as day. This incident stands out only because I have had a ton of similar incidents with Alex where he'll respond to my thoughts, and though I'd think they were only thoughts, I figured that maybe I'd spoken aloud without realizing it. This was great validation to hear Michael and Fiona confirm that I hadn't said it aloud, because when he claimed I had I thought perhaps I really had without knowing (always making me feel a bit batty!).
I remember holding him in his sling when he was under two, and I'd think a clear question and he'd answer, "no" or "yes" without any indication that we weren't having a spoken conversation.
Once, when he was about 3 years old, I was preparing him a bowl of oatmeal. I typically only put salt in his plain oatmeal, but I was remembering nostalgically about how my mother put cinnamon and brown sugar on our oatmeal. Alex, who was seated at the table, began to giggle and laughed, "Cinnamon's playing in my oatmeal!" I had been merely musing to myself, but he had picked up on something that he didn't even understand...the Cinnamon he knew was a character on Blue's Clues! He'd never been introduced to the spice and had no reason to associate it with oatmeal.
My theory is that Alex receives clear, word-for-word messages. He doesn't necessarily understand them, and he can definitely be oblivious to emotions, but he does 'hear' the words--so much so that he won't realize they weren't spoken aloud. Fiona, on the other hand, is attune to my emotions. I haven't seen the sort of mind-reading that Alex has, but she can sense my emotions amazingly. This could be simply a great sensitivity, but perfectly normal and not extrasensory. She is in tune, though, and will bring up subjects that I'm thinking about. Nothing that I can't explain away, though, yet!
I can't help but wonder, though, if in fact he did mention in passing about missing a math class. It's possible that the dream isn't really so mysterious.
However, I had a dream perhaps a year ago about my former best friend visiting us from Washington. I wrote her about the dream, and there were numerous elements that correlated to events that were currently occurring in her life, which I most certainly did not know about--to include the fact that she had been toying with the idea of us having a visit that same night! Her hair color and a piece of art on the wall were two bits that she'd been focusing on the previous day and that I mentioned. In the dream, I was disturbed that while she was visiting she kept going into the restroom to vomit into a Baby Bjorn potty. In reality, her small son was keeping her up that night with his vomiting! In between vomiting episodes, she was on-line looking for trip ideas to visit with me!
Okay, not the sweetest dream in the world, but I had to mention it--especially as I'd again translated a son's experience to his mother...exactly like me missing math classes in my dream!
These incidents also suggest to me that we're so much more connected than we tend to realize. With certain people at least... Alex would read my mind as a baby and still occasionally seems to. I thought it was primarily his talent, but perhaps we're linked in to one another.
Have I mentioned a few of those incidents? Only a year or two ago, when we were on a family trip, Alex asked if we could do something. I clearly thought, "sure, why not?", but Michael answered him aloud with a firm "no", and I kept my mouth shut. Alex spat back, "Why not? Mom just said yes!" Michael responded, "no, she didn't," and Alex said, "she said, 'sure, why not?'!" Fiona and Michael both told him that I hadn't said anything, but then I had to admit that I had thought it plain as day. This incident stands out only because I have had a ton of similar incidents with Alex where he'll respond to my thoughts, and though I'd think they were only thoughts, I figured that maybe I'd spoken aloud without realizing it. This was great validation to hear Michael and Fiona confirm that I hadn't said it aloud, because when he claimed I had I thought perhaps I really had without knowing (always making me feel a bit batty!).
I remember holding him in his sling when he was under two, and I'd think a clear question and he'd answer, "no" or "yes" without any indication that we weren't having a spoken conversation.
Once, when he was about 3 years old, I was preparing him a bowl of oatmeal. I typically only put salt in his plain oatmeal, but I was remembering nostalgically about how my mother put cinnamon and brown sugar on our oatmeal. Alex, who was seated at the table, began to giggle and laughed, "Cinnamon's playing in my oatmeal!" I had been merely musing to myself, but he had picked up on something that he didn't even understand...the Cinnamon he knew was a character on Blue's Clues! He'd never been introduced to the spice and had no reason to associate it with oatmeal.
My theory is that Alex receives clear, word-for-word messages. He doesn't necessarily understand them, and he can definitely be oblivious to emotions, but he does 'hear' the words--so much so that he won't realize they weren't spoken aloud. Fiona, on the other hand, is attune to my emotions. I haven't seen the sort of mind-reading that Alex has, but she can sense my emotions amazingly. This could be simply a great sensitivity, but perfectly normal and not extrasensory. She is in tune, though, and will bring up subjects that I'm thinking about. Nothing that I can't explain away, though, yet!
Thursday, February 4, 2010
TV Bugs
Michael and I just finished the 5th season of Desperate Housewives last night. We have gotten into a 'date night' habit of watching our shows after getting the kids to bed. At first, we watched television shows because movies were deemed too long, but we have somehow gotten to the point where we'll watch two episodes at bare minimum, once we get started. This is wonderful for me, as I can often catch a nap the next day if needed, and Michael will literally spend hours rubbing my feet as we watch. I'm as spoiled as can possibly be! It's totally fantastic, though I do feel a tad guilty!
We have gone through all seven seasons of The Gilmore Girls as well, which did start the whole nighttime show habit to begin with...
Meanwhile, for our exercise routines, we both are watching more action-based shows, like the Buffy the Vampire Slayer series (currently season 6) and Angel, the spin-off series (now watching season 3) while we elliptical. We don't typically exercise at the same time, and I tend to have more time than him, so I have completed some other shows on my own--most notably all five seasons of Alias.
Anyhow, if you add up the hours that we've devoted to these stories, it is quite impressive. Michael and I have our own private cultural literacy and references that we throw at one another these days. He's clever about sending me texts like "oy with the poodles already!" (a Gilmorism) and such.
Ironically, we do NOT have cable. I refuse to get cable. Not because I don't like it, but because I'd be completely addicted to the TV all the time. Absolutely unhealthy for me, as I'm already having trouble with moderation! Oh, and there's also the fact that I think it would be unhealthy for the kids, and I'd like to screen what they are viewing for some time.
Anyhow, I am at heart a TV bug. I love stories and fantasy. For now, though, Michael and I are going to try to take a break with the TV date nights, at least for a bit, now that we've finished this last show. We need to shift the balance back towards moderation and let him get some sleep!
We have gone through all seven seasons of The Gilmore Girls as well, which did start the whole nighttime show habit to begin with...
Meanwhile, for our exercise routines, we both are watching more action-based shows, like the Buffy the Vampire Slayer series (currently season 6) and Angel, the spin-off series (now watching season 3) while we elliptical. We don't typically exercise at the same time, and I tend to have more time than him, so I have completed some other shows on my own--most notably all five seasons of Alias.
Anyhow, if you add up the hours that we've devoted to these stories, it is quite impressive. Michael and I have our own private cultural literacy and references that we throw at one another these days. He's clever about sending me texts like "oy with the poodles already!" (a Gilmorism) and such.
Ironically, we do NOT have cable. I refuse to get cable. Not because I don't like it, but because I'd be completely addicted to the TV all the time. Absolutely unhealthy for me, as I'm already having trouble with moderation! Oh, and there's also the fact that I think it would be unhealthy for the kids, and I'd like to screen what they are viewing for some time.
Anyhow, I am at heart a TV bug. I love stories and fantasy. For now, though, Michael and I are going to try to take a break with the TV date nights, at least for a bit, now that we've finished this last show. We need to shift the balance back towards moderation and let him get some sleep!
A Merry Outing
Yesterday was Wednesday, a nothing-special school day. Normally the kids would have come home for their normal schoolnight routine, but this particular Wednesday Uncle Jeff and his fiancee Seresa decided to spend some quality fun time with Alex, 11, and Fiona, 7.
They picked the kids up from school in the afternoon and headed to Star Castle, the rollerskating rink. On this nothing-special school day, the rink was uncharacteristically empty, and they had the whole place to themselves. Summer days and weekends generally see long lines of kids here, especially as it is a favorite 'fun' destination for summer day-camps.
The uncrowded rink was perfect for the newbie skaters, as they had previously been a bit intimidated by the speed and size of older skaters, and they skated for quite some time--Alex gaining skill and speed and Fiona happily toughing it out, despite her repeated falls. They also had a fun game of laser tag at Star Castle.
For dinner, they ate at the Asian Buffet, meeting up with Grammy and Gramps, and then they all went out to see the new movie, "The Tooth Fairy", in a likewise empty theatre. The kids had a FABULOUS time and came home far too late for a school night, completely sated and spoiled!
Their special evening triggers memories of a couple of stories for me... I'm thinking of Annie, when Daddy Warbucks rented an entire theatre so they could watch a movie entirely by themselves. Actually, I always think of that story when I'm 'lucky' enough to catch an empty theatre for a movie. It feels special and like we've definitely gotten our money's worth!
This time, the kids were dancing and performing for the family before the show, since they had the theatre all to themselves. How fun and relaxed!
Another story that comes to mind is my granny's special memories of her own fun outings with her older half-sister Gaynelle. Aunt Gaynelle was a young woman who had married fairly well and actually owned a car. She lived in the nearby town of Kingstree, and she made a point of regularly coming to pick up her younger half-sisters, Ginnie and Kat, from Greeleyville on Saturdays to take them out to a movie and to get ice cream. I was always fascinated by Granny's story and warm memories. She was recalling events from the very early 1930's, and I wonder if she saw any silent films, as that was the period of transition to 'talkie' films.
I am thrilled that my kids have been blessed to have such a merry outing with their fun uncle and his fiancee. Those memories will last a lifetime, as Granny's own memories attest to.
I am also inspired regarding my own young niece and nephew. Given that we have similarly aged children, we've created different memories with my sister Stephenie's children, Elizabeth and Nicholas, which mostly involve playing with cousins at sleepovers and birthday parties, but I am feeling now that I would like to make an effort to have a fun date with them--something distinctive to make them feel special and loved. The value of a single fun and memorable day for a child is priceless, and I am so glad that Jeff and Reese made the special effort.
They picked the kids up from school in the afternoon and headed to Star Castle, the rollerskating rink. On this nothing-special school day, the rink was uncharacteristically empty, and they had the whole place to themselves. Summer days and weekends generally see long lines of kids here, especially as it is a favorite 'fun' destination for summer day-camps.
The uncrowded rink was perfect for the newbie skaters, as they had previously been a bit intimidated by the speed and size of older skaters, and they skated for quite some time--Alex gaining skill and speed and Fiona happily toughing it out, despite her repeated falls. They also had a fun game of laser tag at Star Castle.
For dinner, they ate at the Asian Buffet, meeting up with Grammy and Gramps, and then they all went out to see the new movie, "The Tooth Fairy", in a likewise empty theatre. The kids had a FABULOUS time and came home far too late for a school night, completely sated and spoiled!
Their special evening triggers memories of a couple of stories for me... I'm thinking of Annie, when Daddy Warbucks rented an entire theatre so they could watch a movie entirely by themselves. Actually, I always think of that story when I'm 'lucky' enough to catch an empty theatre for a movie. It feels special and like we've definitely gotten our money's worth!
This time, the kids were dancing and performing for the family before the show, since they had the theatre all to themselves. How fun and relaxed!
Another story that comes to mind is my granny's special memories of her own fun outings with her older half-sister Gaynelle. Aunt Gaynelle was a young woman who had married fairly well and actually owned a car. She lived in the nearby town of Kingstree, and she made a point of regularly coming to pick up her younger half-sisters, Ginnie and Kat, from Greeleyville on Saturdays to take them out to a movie and to get ice cream. I was always fascinated by Granny's story and warm memories. She was recalling events from the very early 1930's, and I wonder if she saw any silent films, as that was the period of transition to 'talkie' films.
I am thrilled that my kids have been blessed to have such a merry outing with their fun uncle and his fiancee. Those memories will last a lifetime, as Granny's own memories attest to.
I am also inspired regarding my own young niece and nephew. Given that we have similarly aged children, we've created different memories with my sister Stephenie's children, Elizabeth and Nicholas, which mostly involve playing with cousins at sleepovers and birthday parties, but I am feeling now that I would like to make an effort to have a fun date with them--something distinctive to make them feel special and loved. The value of a single fun and memorable day for a child is priceless, and I am so glad that Jeff and Reese made the special effort.
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