Notes...

...that appeared around the house at various times this week.

Spring, obscure tv shows, and how to make a universe

Obviously I have had little to say for the past few weeks. Either that or we've been doing little to talk about, or maybe I've been taking fewer pictures. Part of the impromptu hiatus was due to a sudden influx in book review assignments. Having to spend my evenings reading? You got it. But at least some of those evenings were spent giving in to an obsession with a few obscure TV shows (both Psych and Mad Men returned a couple of weeks ago, plus we've discovered the prowess of BBC shows, mainly Sherlock and Dr. Who). Watching TV until the wee hours of the morning? Not our finest moments, but it's been fun nonetheless.

In the time that I've been basically gone, though, it's amazing how very little has happened. In fact, that's been the real story of the past month: more of the same all over again. Since the last three years have gifted us with warm, early springs, the lethargy of this year's season has been somewhat of a shock and disappointment. Looking back at pictures from this time last year we were in shorts and tees, while this year I was still running in long pants and a fleece until just this week.

Additionally, not much has happened on the home front, and right now I think that's really a good thing. Winter is busy, summer is busy, but spring and fall almost demand a dragging of feet from me. Forget the whole spring cleaning thing, there's plenty of time for that during the long winter months when we're cooped up inside. Spring is for daydreaming, for watching the birds return, for lazy afternoons with a good book. And apparently for late nights with obscure television shows, but that's an anomaly, I think.

For Calvin, on the other hand, spring is about being outside in as few clothes as is bearable, and for as long as possible, no matter the temperature. Or at least that's what it's been about since the first day that even suggested warmth, especially if chalk was involved. Thanks to the frequent night rains, the driveway has been much like an etch-a-sketch. It has accommodated a map of Africa, a slideshowesque how-to on creating a universe (don't forget the black holes), and a map of a unique solar system and planet from said other universe. Which obviates the current household interest: astrophysics. It's like an obsession for the kid right now. If it has anything to do with black holes, antimatter, subatomic particles, or the elements, he's all over it. In fact, he's planned out a rather elaborate project for the 4H fair in July. Which means that things are promising to be a little more engaging around here soon enough, since a few weeks of lethargy are about all we can stand.

Play

Play means many different things to many different people. You can play pretend, you can play a game, you can play at learning, you can play on stage, you can play with things, or play music. I think play changes as we get older, too. When I was young there was nothing I loved so much as to play at being a teacher with the chalkboard in our basement, or to play house in the tunnel of foliage on the berm in our backyard, while now my play is focused more on hobbies.

As an adult, and wife and mother, when we moved into our new home we did not have enough furniture for it, so our front room, ostensibly a sitting room, remained empty except for the piano and a few bookshelves of toys. We took to calling it our play room. It has changed a bit since then—the bookshelves grew like weeds (they now reach to the ceiling!), and we added a dress-up chest, a shelf doubling as a window seat, and now a dog crate—but really we've left it open so that it could continue to be our play room.

There is an etiquette book somewhere that says we shouldn't have the front room, the very first room visitor's see upon entering the house, filled with the things that make the most mess. But in the dead of winter, when the house is chilly and the outside uninviting, the afternoon sun streams through the front window and warms the play room floor. It calls all of us to spread out and bask, so we do. On any given day the floor is strewn with books, art pieces, Legos, or felt sets, and likely a young boy and a couple of dogs, too. That's where we sit to discuss history, run science experiments, read favorite books, or just simply play, with the piano, with dogs, with toys, with each other.

Today it was a building spree—the construction of a pool on a riverside, to be visited by all the fairy tale creatures Calvin could divine, or rummage from various sets, before their return to the castles...and parking garage. And, while Jon was off teaching lessons, for me it was playing with the camera, experimenting with that beautiful afternoon light and falling in love with my hobby all over again. I am still considerably under the weather, so it was nice to lay on the floor in the sporadic sun and just watch the boy play, listening to things those characters said and watching the things they did, and possibly I fell asleep for a few minutes, because I think I was awakened by a spotted pink tongue and a giggling little boy. 

Monday

What did Monday look like?

Awaking to the delicious smell of whole grain waffles thanks to an awesome father/husband (another big checkmark on our resolutions list: finding healthier breakfast solutions than our usual bagel and cream cheese).

Calvin practicing piano at 8:30 in the morning with songs like Ain't it Great to be Crazy? (definitely not before coffee).

A first thing-in-the-morning trip to the library so that I could put out a few proverbial fires raging in the sale room while Calvin did math and spelling worksheets.

Wine bottles and science! The Vacuvin wine saver and an empty bottle, a balloon, a glass of water and a straw, and a vacuum were all we needed for a lengthy discussion about air pressure and vacuums ("think of you, daddy, and me floating around this room bumping into things, then think of the three of us crammed in a closet trying to float around? Which situation is under higher pressure?").

Sentence diagramming. Strangely enough, he loves it.

After lunch it was off to gymnastics, the private homeschooling class version with friends (and the solution to the gymnastics issue? He has opted to switch his second class from the Wednesday melee to the Thursday private class filled with more homeschooling kids—it was a no-brainer when the instructor told him how many of his friends from HAA were in that class as well).

Back home Calvin cuddled under a blanket and lost himself in Greek myths. I went for a run, then spent the next ten minutes trying to regain feeling in my fingers. I knew winter would be back.

Tea, scones, and some photography practice—playing around with ISO (I have the greatest, and most inquisitive, model in the world, but it occurs to me to wonder what we did before the age of digital?).

ISO in order: 250, 400, 2000, 6400, 12800, and 25600

Then we made pizza together, and ate pizza together, and read aloud together from The Two Towers, because after work there's always together time.

And that's what Monday looked like. It's a cool job, isn't it?

Mole hills

We started out on the right foot this week as far as resolutions go. Aside from daily photographs, Calvin and I got out and active every single day this week. For me it was at least a quick jog around the block (1 mile) every day, and for Calvin it was a couple of gymnastics classes and free swim added to our usual routine (which was just a single swimming class).

This is all well and good. Of course I signed him for a couple of gymnastics classes on well-used, probably filthy equipment surrounded by scads of other kids right in the middle of a flu outbreak (sometimes I question my planning), but as it turns out it wasn't the germs I needed to worry about so much. Actually, what had me second guessing the whole affair was his immediate pronouncement upon exiting the gym after the second class that "those boys are mean." Apparently throughout the class the boys were calling names, using ridiculous words (Calvin's term, not mine, for their use of such phrases as "diaper-face" and "poop-head"), and pushing, shoving, and the like. Although I'm pretty sure his feelings weren't hurt, he was uncomfortable and wasn't sure he wanted to go back. Calvin, being amongst the smallest, was the brunt of much of the behavior, and he also said that the teachers were unable to control at least two of the boys.

And so it begins.

I know a lot of parents believe that it's good for kids to handle conflict on their own, good for them to be exposed to the rougher side of childhood socializing, but this is a view with which I have never agreed. If I were attempting to learn a new skill I would not seek training from someone as novice as myself, so why would I want my six-year-old to learn social skills from another six-year-old? I want him to learn the finer points of socializing from people who already know them, like knowing that it's not okay to push someone just because. Not to mention that the skills he is learning now are preparing him for adulthood, and since most adults finding themselves unwittingly in a shoving match would either walk away or seek help, I can't see the purpose behind forcing him to stick it out through a situation in which he feels unsafe.

Of course there's also the whole running away from problems issue—don't be a quitter, and all that jazz. Those are definitely useful lessons or skills to learn, but gymnastics is brand new for Calvin, not something he's pursuing as a life goal, and it's intended to be purely fun. If it's not going to be fun then what's the point? And no I don't want to be the over-protective or coddling parent, but there's something deeper at stake here, I think, and that's trust: my trust that he can make this decision for himself, and his trust that I will give him whatever support he needs to make that decision and follow through with it. Jon and I spend a lot of energy trying extend to Calvin the same respect that we would extend to other adults. We're not perfect at this by any means, and we are always learning, but this is what we try to do, and part of that is giving him room to make his own choices and to live with the consequences, be they positive or negative.

All this over a mole hill.

Part of it is just my usual response to the general "what about socialization?" question that all homeschoolers will hear at least once in their lives, and the rest is really just me thinking out loud (in type). Jon and I have talked about it, and we talked a little with Calvin, too, but no ultimate decision has been made. It would appear that my plan right now is to ignore the situation, but really I'm just waiting for Calvin to think about it in his own time. The awesome thing is that the first gymnastics class of the week is a small class with other members of our homeschooling group (see picture below), so we can go to that class then talk again and see how he feels about class number two. And the more awesome thing is that I can trust him to think about it and decide for himself, and will support him in whatever decision he makes.

That, and knowing that after week one (two?), at least some of our resolutions are still in place.