|
|
Friday, November 13th, 2009
| |
12:23 am - What *do* they teach them in school nowadays?
|
 Yesterday was parents visiting day at DS' kindergarten, and the DH and I popped in and out over the course of the day (I went early then went to work, then came back again for a bit before going back to work again). IN the in between part where I wasn't there, DS went off to science class. My DH being a weirdo apparently decided to hang around in the empty classroom,while DS went off with his friends and their parents.
Thankfully, FatherGoof was there to fill me in when I returned that Mr. Adorable, answering a question about - well, I'm not too clear on that actually- apparently answered the question with "guillotine" as the example. Not believing, at first, that he actually knew what such a thing was, they asked him if he knew, which, of course, he did. he explained that a big knife comes down and cuts your neck and your head pops off (he's very into heads popping off - I can only imagine this was said rather gleefully).
After some struggling with the concept of a kindergartners and a guillotine, Father Goof reported, someone noted, well, it's all about the physics.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Tuesday, October 27th, 2009
| |
10:44 pm - Salad days
|
DS: Do you know what my favorite animal is?Me: A fox? DS: No, a sn  ake!
DS: No, what?
Me: You are (hug)!
DS: (wriggling away) I'm not an animal!
Me: What are you? Are you a vegetable?
DS: Yes!
Me: What kind of vegetable are you?
DS: A tomato!
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Sunday, October 25th, 2009
| |
9:04 pm - Mystery Braking!
|
My DH is one of those people whom I don't love to drive with. He gets bent out of shape if people are too slow, or whatever, and I just have to grit my teeth or else live with him getting annoyed at me, too. But I've always found it funny to hear him use one expression, which he swears is actually a technical term: "Mystery Braking."
Apparently this is the technical term for people who brake when there's no obvious reason for doing so. Sometimes this is because of two footed driving (One foot on the gas and one on the brake - an *incredibly* dangerous practice. Don't ever do this!) but mostly , if oyu keep an eye out for this, it's just inexplicable - people just braking for no reason.
it hapens a lot, so we are often treated to several repetitions of ths phrase on our way to just about anywhere.
Today, while I was at a meeting dowtown, apparently DH and DS were walking around while waiting for me, when suddenly DS stops inthe middle of the sidewalk, stands perfectly still and announces, "Mystery Braking!!!!"
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Tuesday, October 20th, 2009
| |
10:23 pm - Boy, even the littlies are getting into the healthcare game...
|
Overheard from my DS, Mr. Adorable, to GoofGirl, at their after-school play program pick-up:
Mr. Adorable noticing his old pal and current classmate, goofgirl, arriving while he's playing with lacrosse sticks, "Hey [geekgirl]! Want to play Blue Cross, Blue Shield?"
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Sunday, October 11th, 2009
| |
8:52 pm - A weekend of DS
|
Poor little dude is now actually running a fever, has a sore throat and complains his head hurts. (FYI: We're watching, but not doing anything yet - he won't take any meds, but if the fever goes up, too bad, he's taking them).
But earlier this weekend he was having a great time. This weekend happens to correspond with a holiday in the Jewish calendar called Shmini Atzeret - it's the last gasp of the "high holidays" and we pray for rain and hope that God has forgiven us for all the things we haven't quite gotten right in the past year. Outside of Israel, the holiday is two days, the second of which (more famous, actually, than the actual biblical holiday) is called SImchat Torah (In Israel, the holiday is one day and one does everything on that day). Simcha means joy, because we are rejoicing the the Torah - we finish the end of the year's readings, and roll it back to the beginning of the scroll at Genesis and start again.
On Saturday, we were at the synagogue, and unusually, DS volunteered to march around during the usual procession of taking out the Torah with the rabbi and the other little kids. The congregation keeps a stock of scrolls, which aren't really torahs, but look like them, or stuffed Torahs (I know this is weird to anyone who isn't Jewish, just go with it). It's customary as the Torah is taken out to walk around the room in which the service is held to reenact the giving of the Torah at SInai, and it is customary as the Torah passes to kiss the scroll which contains the most valued gift God has given humans - the laws and stories by which we live our lives- to show our love and respect for God. Generally, in this community, the adults also set an example for the kids and sort of humor them, by kissing the scrolls that the kids carry around too. But my little Lucy Van Pelt son, what does he do, as people come up to respectfully touch a kiss to the "Torah" he's carrying? He yanks it away out of reach, that's what he does.
Had the room in stitches.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Friday, October 9th, 2009
| |
10:40 am - Dirty, Rotten Scowl
|
|
Why, oh why, is it SO difficult to get kids to brush their teeth? This morning tooth brushing instigated a tantrum of epic proportions - the end result being that he rode to school shirtless - and wouldn't put it on until he got to school.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Tuesday, September 22nd, 2009
| |
7:13 am - onetruetiny on fasting on Yom Kippur this yer
|
|
| Sunday, September 20th, 2009
| |
9:30 pm - Han Solo Rides again and a medical report
|
A few days of catching up on the Annals of Bathtime Front:
Friday afternoon, I was home cooking for Rosh Hashanah, which meant my DS was rocketing around the house, playing mostly by himself (I know I will be regretting all the days I didn't play with him soon enough, but I still had to get the cooking done, since no one else was going to do it for me. My DH helpfully always tells me that "I'm making more work for myself" and "I don't have to do all this" however, I have noticed that the one or two times I didn't prepare anything, nothing got prepared. Those were very sucky Sabbaths. Not that I have anything against tuna fish, but... yeah. It's be fine, if I didn't mind having nothing to offer people who came to visit. I don't know how they do it in Detroit, but I grew up in Maryland, where that is about the ultimate in ill-bred).
So, anyhow, every so often I get cajoled into partial participation. One of the games was apparently some kind of star wars type game which involved my begin dead every so often (I blame this on the DH too, since he's the one getting these rather violent Star Wars books out of the library, and then asking me where I think he's picked up the desire to play all these war games. Gee, I wonder. At least he did think to ask me before he screened the actual Star Wars movie. I nixed that one. A five year old. Come on, have some sense here!) This death was originally cyclical: you die after a certain amount of time, and then come back. But after a while, he changed it, introduced this way: "I'm sorry, darlin, but that's the way it has to be..."
Later that evening, I was also informed by my DS that he has a sensitive bladder. What he means by this is that every night before going to bed, I ask him to micturate before beginning the bed-time process. He often claims that he doens't have to go. When I pres him, he usually goes, and always pees, sometimes quite alot. On friday, when I pointed this out to him, he told me he has a sensitive bladder- whenever he goes into the bathroom, it needs to go, but doens't otherwise.
This morning, he posed an additional question to his abba - if I always have to go pee when I go in the bathroom, does that mean I have to pee all the time?
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Friday, September 11th, 2009
| |
7:42 am - 9/11
|
I still think that this is the most moving of the 9/11 memorials. For those who don't know this already, the tune that Rabbi Kula is using is a chant that is used for reading the Book of Lamentations on TIsha B'Av, the saddest day of the Jewish calendar.
UPDATE: *SIgh* I don't know why I can't get embedding to work on LJ
Try this: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/video/2007/09/11/VI2007091101217.html?hpid=topnews
LATER UPDATE: OK. Got it.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Monday, August 31st, 2009
| |
11:01 pm - The ABC's of Doom
|
I only mention the title because it was said by KosherCop when he was visiting last Friday.
What I'm really talking about is that DS goes to Kindergarten tomorrow for the first time. Today he went to his school meet-and-greet, and then spent the afternoon playing with a friend who happens to be in his class. But it feels bittersweet, like the very last story in the Winnie the Pooh books, when Christopher Robin is sad because he won't ever be able to do nothing again. He asks Pooh to wait for him and not feel bad if he doesn't make it up to the magic place to play with him... it always makes me cry. And that's it . Today is really the last day when he can go up with that silly old bear. After today he will have to learn about Kings and Knights and things. And I feel that I've missed so much of it, working, or being busy cooking supper or even just being too tired to play cars sometimes.
I know that no matter what I would have done - even if I had spent every minute with ihm playing, I would have missed something. But I also know about how often I think back to my own childhood and remember it - not much. I suppose the best most of us can do as parents is just not to leave bad memories or screw it up some other way.
I know tomorrow he will still snuggle with Minkie and rub his nose to go to sleep with him, and want to be read to at every possible moment, especialy when it's bedtime, but time grows short when he will be mine.
It is all rather a bit doomish, isn't it?
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Wednesday, August 26th, 2009
| |
7:03 pm - Banana Rags and more!
|
Mr. Adorable and his friend, the Bug King, were playing today. I walked in on the middle of a discussion about "banana rags" (DS does not like them, the bug king does) that took me a while to figure out. Feeding them bananas actually solved the question - those long strings that I always peel off my banana because they feel weird and make the banana taste bad.
I love the term and will be using it from now on.
On the way back from the pool, they were wrapping their towels around them and playing "superhero." Bet you can't guess their secret weapons! They shoot out of their bellybuttons and their... nipples! Yep. Anyone else having weird Austin Powers thoughts intruding here besides me?
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Sunday, August 23rd, 2009
| |
11:52 pm - Meetings in the Holy Land, and an episode of illness
|
One of the great things about going to California is how many other people want to go there too. I'm always assured of running into someone worth seeing - who is likely to be from wherever I am living at the time- while visiting.
This year, it was our friends the Goofs. I have to admit, the Goof family trip was timed extremely well for us. We had just spent about a week with DoulaRabbi and SkaterDude. Because it was DoulaRabbi's birthday, he parents had volunteered to take the kids while she and SkaterDude went on vacation. As undecided as she was about where to go for dinner, for vacation, she settled on a staycation, and was looking forward to cleaning out her closets ( hey. don't yuck someone else's yum!) However, Mr. Adorable was not pleased about this.
We went off to a hotel ( I wasn't about to interrupt possibly the only time alone that SkaterDude and DoulaRabbi might have for the next year!) visited with the Rebbitzer's uncle (that worked out nicely - Uncle Charlie had apparently loaded himself up with gifts for Mr. Adorable, and we spent all day opening and playing with them) and then we went off to assuage the pain of being without Trashtruckboy by a playdate with GoofGirl, with whom Mr. Adorable regularly asks for playdates, but since we've moved beyond walking distance, rarely gets them, since GoofGirl had a different pre-school schedule than he did - and both our families are shomrei shabbat and don't drive on Saturday.
We did manage one Sunday playdate sometimes last year, but somehow, we haven't seemed to have made it happen all that often. Which is too bad, because we like all the Goofs. Maybe next year, since they'll both be going to the same school, at the same time, we can make it happen more often.
Anyhow, off we went to Balboa Park in the San Fernando Valley, which is treated rather liking traveling to Outer Mongolia in Southern California terms (at least, it is if you live in L.A. proper, if you live in the Valley, than it's L.A. which is Outer Mongolia).
It just so happens that once you find it (not necessarily easily done, despite the fact that we started out knowing where Balboa Drive is and that Balboa Park is off it) it is a great playground. There is a lake (and I saw a lifeguard station, which means there's swimming, although I don't know if I would choose to swim there all things being equal) with all sorts of avian fauna; a really fantastic climbing/play area and lots of kids (I love urban playgrounds - people actually use them!) and Latino ice cream trucks. Now you may think that this is kind of a peculiar distinction, but I love them. They always have at least one brand of fruit pop which is way cheaper than all the standard brands, and is actually made from - get this! -fruit!
My favorite happens to be the coconut ones. The rebbitzer got tamarind (which was too sweet, IMO. Tamarind is supposed to be tart). Actually he got two, which I'm betting is the source of our problems that evening.
The Rebbitzer had had a mild headache as we were driving there, which I attributed to the horrible traffic on the 405. By 6:30, we had realized that we had better get some dinner, and since the Goofs were very enthused about CPK, we went there - I never ate there when I lived in LA, because there are so many kosher restaurants there that there's really no reason to eat at a non-kosher place. Now that we live in the DC area, where kosher restaurants are few and far between, we do eat hot dairy out in non-kosher places (although I try to stick to true vegetarian restaurants, which are easier to come by than kosher ones, and the food is really much much better. Kosher food in DC, with one or two exceptions, none of them terribly convenient, is almost uniformly awful - can we get some Persians from L.A. restaurant families to move out here please?) but you can always find something that kosher-keeping types can eat at CPK (If we had been in L.A. I would have said to go to a kosher place, but I'm much less familiar with the kosher restaurants in the Valley, and it really was too far to drive back to L.A., especially at that hour) so off we went to have a little simple something. And we all did and ordered, and waited, and waited, and waited. almost an hour later, the rebbetzer went to ask what had happneded to our food. The manager insisted that the order hadn't gone in but 20 minutes earlier (which still begs the question of where the food was, since no one had ordered anything that couldn't have been cooked faster than that) and the rebbitzer got annoyed and basically gave up. Apparently his headache had gotten much much worse, and he just went off to the car. At that exact moment the food came, so Mr. Adorable and I stayed with the Goofs and ate. The service was like something out of the three stooges. Anything requested took forever to get to the table. To the extent that the Goofs grabbed the check ant the end and said they'd pay it all, in fear of the difficulty of the waiter's attempt to figure out a a split check keeping us there until midnight.
Afterwards we went to go find the Rebbitzer. We wandered around wondering where the car was until I thought to check my phone. He had texted us that he was going to get gas while he waited. When he came to find us, he clearly was not doing well. He said he was feeling better since he had spent the intervening time while we were eating, talking to Ralph onthe big white phone. I can't say he actually looked any better, though. I thought he might either puke or pass out while he was driving and offered several times to drive, but he insisted that if he wasn't driving he might not make it back to the hotel without puking ( this is not a commentary on my driving skills, which are fine, thank you). He did, but immediately crawled into bed and went to sleep. The next day he felt better, had a glass of water and some Naproxin, kept it down, went back to sleep for a while, and then woke up, still a little headachy, but not as much, and weak.
The Doula Rabbis' theory is dehydration - I think this is probably right - by the time you notice you're dehydrated in the low humidity of SoCal, the headache is firmly embedded and drinking anything does make you feel worse (which doens't mean you shouldn't drink, just that you have to know it's going to be worse before it's better) -in other words, those two tamarind popsicles were just enough liquid to start the cure, but made him feel much worse in the meantime.
IN any case, by mid-day the next day he seemed to be fine, and we did make it back to the wet coast in a reasonable state. Of course, since I'm still up typing at 1am, you must know we still haven't adjusted to the time zones. Maybe if I can stay up late enough, I can pretend I'm still in the Holy Land hanging out with DoulaRabbi and my ravs.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| |
11:19 pm - Our comrades, the chickens
|
 Having just returned from a jaunt to the holy land - that is, Southern California, land of sunshine, citrus trees, and low humidity- I am already wondering what ever had prompted me to move back to the east coast. I know my parents are here, but really, couldn't they have moved there? It was really wonderful to see our friends, DoulaRabbi and Skaterdude and their kids (their older son, is almost exactly DS's age; she was my doula as well as my rab school classmate, and while I was in labor, they kept telling her not to push....Trashtruckboy was born not even two weeks later, which was great, since we were able to be there for the brit milah before we moved back here). Hanging with Carrie and Dan is always great, since Skaterdude has exactly the same sense of humor as the Rebbitzer (my DH) - which is to say, no one understands it but them. So far, and we've vacationed with them a few times - once a real vacation travel to Puerto Rico (where I ran into congregants), and twice when their schedules didn't work out for travel, we just went and stayed with them- we seem to be able to be with them nearly indefinitely without irritation breaking out, which is saying something. We don't get to see them every year, but I think I'm going to make sure we try to now, since it works out so well.
In fact, Mr. Adorable, and Trashtruckboy got on like a house afire. The last time we visited with them, they were a lot younger, and weren't really playing *with* other kids yet, and there was some friction that broke out over the minkie/mimi situation (I was never really clear on why, since everyone had their own blankie, what they were fussing over was never obvious) but this time, everyone's minkie/mimi was handled fine (except for one incident, which I put a stop to - they were fine with it, but I didn't care to be flogged with a blankie) and they played together constantly and well - in fact, I fear we upendd camp plans - Trashtruckboy was supposed to be going to camp most of the day all week, but by last Monday, Trashtruckboy was so happy to have Mr. Adorable there to play with, he refused to go to camp, so he stayed home and played all week instead.
Wednesday was DoulaRabbi's birthday. She couldn't decide what she wasn'ted to do or where to go out, so I took matters in hand and threw her a barbeque. The Rebbitzer grilled, which was something to see.
Now, our friends SkaterDude and DoulaRabbi keep chickens. They have a standard, smallish, southern California backyard, but they have built a small pen, in which they keep five chickens for their eggs (They recently switched ove to the same kind of kitchen we have, dairy/pareve - SkaterDude has become a vegetarian, like Mr. Adorable, who has always insisted -fine with me- that he doesn't want to eat animals (except tunafish, and occasionally sushi)).
While the Rebbitzer was out grilling, Mr. Adorable wandered over to the chicken coop and solemnly informed the chickens that they should know that we were "frying" their relatives. My little PETA kid! I'm so proud!
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Wednesday, August 12th, 2009
| |
11:14 pm - Empathy at Camp
|
I wasn't actually the one to go pick him up today from his last day at summer camp.
But in retrospect, there's a lot to report about how camp went this summer. As reported earlier, he still won't do StupidDancing (TM) (even though it's more like movement and not really dance, but okay), but he has learned lots of other things. He now will jump off the side of the pool into the water where it's shallow enough that his head won't go under. When it does go under, he remembers to blow out his nose, and so it hasn't been especially traumatic (we just need to get him to do it on purpose, now).
He no longer starts every day by announcing how much he hates camp, us for making him go, everything in the world, and also breakfast. In fact, yesterday, he even allowed that he had a good time at camp, especially with the Sports counselor an Israeli Shaliach (Yossi) who lets DS give him "electric shocks" (That means DS can punch him in the hand).
He's - according to one of the camp directors, who may be exaggerating so we come back next year (and I like both of them, and don't really have any problem with this, beause they obviously like DS and have treated him very well)- doing computer games in Hebrew on a seventh grade level. I feel rather skeptical about this report; however, I think it's likely that his Hebrew speaking has gotten better over the summer - good enough that he will occasionally deign to speak to me in Hebrew - even though he wouldn't for the past two years when he went to a preschool language immersion program (he's always understood just fine, and spoke perfectly well when forced to do so - he just never wanted to).
He now participates in most things (except StupidDance TM, of course) and spends very little time sulking at the door and refusing to enter.
But the best thing is that he's clearly done some developmental growth emotionally - probably unrelated to camp, but who knows?
The other day, reports one of the directors, she was playing a game with DS and allowed him to win. He very solemnly looked over, patted her gently on the shoulder and told her, "That's okay, I'm sure you're good at lots of other things..."
current mood:  pleased
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Sunday, August 2nd, 2009
| |
3:47 pm - SIblings
|
Have been on Mr. Adorable's mind lately. Yesterday morning he asked me for a little brother. Later in the morning, we spent the morning (Shabbat dontcha know) at shul. It was also the morning in which one of his best buddies in the whole world, Miss Pinky, was to come visit us. To my surprise and delight, they joined us at shul .It was clearly DS' surprise and delight too, because he jumped down to fetch her to the seats where we were siting (in the front) and Miss Pinky and her father joined us up there.
Going to shul is not an unmixed delight for DS, however, he usually manages to be pleasant and even charming, and he does love the rabbi, who is generally indulgent with young children, and also likes DS back a good bit.
DS took Miss PInky in hand, lead her up to the front of the room and made sure she had prime seats (with the rabbi).
One of this rabbis more charming ideas is that he offers the kids a treat towards the end of services (usually a lollipop; I have noticed that other than chocolate, it is not so easy to find kosher treats other than lollipops which are actually appetizing to anyone, let alone children, and as we all know chocolate is not a great idea as a general rule. At least not in shul). DS also made sure to not only bring her up in time for the candy, but got her one of her own. He was incredibly solicitous of her the entire morning.
Later on, someone mentioned to me that they had originally thought that DS and Miss Pinky might be siblings, but that they were being too nice to one another. Miss PInky's father mentioned to me later that someone had come up to him ( a different someone) and said that they had concluded that PinkyDad and I must be siblings, because our kids acted like cousins.
OF course, no sibs would ever be nice to one another. Still, it was awfully adorable to see them being pleasant together.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Wednesday, July 29th, 2009
| |
12:38 am - He comes by it honestly
|
Last year I helped to start a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) program at the shul we went to; this year, at a new shul, I started another one. There is nothing like good fresh veggies. This year, we have gotten a fair number of beets. Now, I may actually be the only person in my house who likes beets. I like them roasted, mostly, with salt and olive oil and lots of herbs. But, I make them anyway. In fact, last week, I made a lot of them. When I made them I was convinced that the best part of the beets for my DS would actually be after the eating of the beets, and I thought I might convince him to eat a few based on their er, interesting effect on eliminated materials, shall we say.
Well, he did try one beet, but like his Abba, he preferred not to. So I got to eat them all, which over the course of a few days, I did. I figured however that the amusement value of pink pee, and really violently magenta poop would transcend the dislike of the actual vegetables.
So here, I am, yelling to my DS, "Hey, you want to see something cool? C'mere!"
DS responds with utter disinterest. I cannot get him to come into the bathroom to see what is just so darn funny. So for about two days, I, a grown woman, every time I eliminate, am yelling all over the house for my DS to come and look at my poop. Yep. I am attempting to get my child to pay attention to poop!
I guess it's safe to day: All his oddities, my DS, he comes by them honestly.
current mood:  embarrassed
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Saturday, July 25th, 2009
| |
9:21 pm - DS updates: Stubbornness; words and phrases of the week
|
So DS is going to an absolutely lovely camp, at which they go swimming, do crafts, play sports, speak Hebrew and learn Israeli dance. The first day they had Israeli dance he came home and announced, "I'm not doing the StupidDances (TM)" (Yes, Stupid dances is clearly a one-word title). And sure enough on Friday, when they invite the parents to come and see all the cute and darling things that they have accomplished that week this is what I was able to film:
yeah - he's the one in the blue shirt on the left - he wouldn't wear the camp t-shirt, either.
Then later this week, while we were driving to camp - he was having a somewhat better morning than usual - usually morning involves hating camp (which he doesn't ever want to leave at the end of the day, reverting to hating it as soon as we walk out the door) sometimes refusing to get dressed ( we have had to bring him naked to camp a couple of times - he usually gets dressed in the car when we pull up and he sees his other option is to be marched in naked)- anyhow, so he was having a prety good morning and we were discussing the not uncommon theme of whom he wishes to marry when he's grown. This has been pretty unswervingly Miss Pinky, as he declared his other female friend that he likes "too grumpy," although she's apparently fine for playing. HE went on to the -what I thought was- next topic, which invoved his seeing a smart car inthe lane next to us, which clearly delighted him. He announced, as he does about pretty much any vehicle he likes, that when he grows up he's going to make that vehicle. With an occasional variation of there will be one for me and one for you Ima, or somethign like that. This was one of those times. He was going to build a smart car (solar electric, of course!) and one for me. And his would have two seats in front, one for him and one for Miss Pinky (this was a new variation) and, he continued, he would put a steering wheel in front of both seats, in case MIss Pinky wanted to drive, so that the could share the drving. I thought that was most generous of him, considering.
Phrases of the week:
"Easy peasy lemon sqeezy"
"henchmen"
referring to a new game that he "won" at camp (one of those little things with balls that you shoot around, like a very, very tiny pinball game) and is completely involved in - he played it all through services at shul today - one of the other adults mentioned that he had thought it sounded like someone on crutches, and he was wondering when that person was planning to come into the room (I had sent him into the hallway becasue it was a bit loud) - so every time he gets a ball in the little scoring table he yells, "Oh, yeah, BABY!" (Where does he learn this stuff?)
Also, last week we went peach picking at a local farm with DS's friend Bug-lover, and since DS really (although somewhat sporadically) hates having his picture taken (except when you take it anyway, and then he wants to see it) and was -to Bug-lover's mother's dismay, was teaching Bug-lover to refuse pictures, we decided to teach them "No paparazzi" which they took to with glee:
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Saturday, July 18th, 2009
| |
9:44 pm - The Annals of Bathtime: Practice makes perfect!
|
Late this afternoon, as many afternooons in summer as we can, we took advantage of our community pool. During adult swim -which at this hour of the evening, generally affords no adults the opportunity to swim unmolested, since the only adults are parents there with children, and not many of those either; but even on the occasions where my family is the ONLY one there, adult swim is, apparently, inviolable. *Sigh*- my DS and I splashed around in the "baby pool."
My DS is currently obsessed with being good at various physical activities. For example, although he will not put his face in the water (I didn't until I was 8 or so, I expect that he will be late with this sort of thing too) he will tell anyone who asks that he knows how to swim - which he will demonstrate with one of those noodle things.
He also loves to run, and will race anyone and anything - he isn't, actually, all that fast, even compared to his peers, but he hasn't seemed to notice that, I don't care to bring it up, mostly, because I don't care how fast he is, and am glad that he likes to run.
While we were splashing around today, we talked about his being fast and how he could get faster, by practicing. I pointed out that most physical skills were things that could be bettered by practicing them, and apparently he took this to heart, since a short while later, he asked about his very loved friend, who is very petite - let's call her Miss Pinky (she loves pink, is a girly girl, and plays cars and trains with my DS, and apparently was caught up in the fervor of a gun battle when friends of her parents brought some toy guns over to her and her sister. She is tiny, but I wouldn't mess with her, if I were 5 and had any brains at all).
Is Miss Pinky fast? My DS asked me.
Yes, I think so, I said.
Could she get faster by practicing?
Yes, of course, so could you, I said.
Smaller? He then asked.
Which made my DH fall off his chaise longue, laughing.
|
|
(1 comment | comment on this)
|
| Thursday, June 25th, 2009
| |
10:10 pm - Forecast:
|
In the car on the way to today's playdate, DS informed me that, "sometimes the pictures in my head look like the future."
-Really, I replied. Like what?
-Well, I can't tell you.
-OK, I understand, sometimes you just want to keep things to yourself. That's okay.
(DS is prince of secrets - he often will respond to "what did you do at school today? with, "It's a secret," or "I'm not going to tell you.")
No, I just don't know what the words are for it.
-Hm. Ok, I said.
Well, it's a picture of a train rushing forward.
(I think to myself, yes, that seems right to me)
After a pause, he added, and then I see a smile at the end of it.
Yehi ratzon - may it be God's will.....
current mood:  thoughtful
|
|
(comment on this)
|
| Wednesday, June 17th, 2009
| |
12:16 am - The Annals of Bathtime:the facts of life edition?
|
The new phrase of the week: when presented with some tasty tidbit, my DS has several times announced "I am a bumblebee, and this [ice cream cone, actual example] is a flower and I am eating the nectar."
'nuff said.
|
|
(comment on this)
|
|
|
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
kolraashgadol's journal